The Beginning After The End

Chapter 507: Copy of Upper hand

ARTHUR LEYWINn/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

I clenched and unclenched my regrown left hand as we waited for the grand hall to be opened. All twenty of those sent on the hunt were gathered, plus Boo and Regis. The young asuras were quiet and almost reverent. Beside me, Chul carried the small white remains of the beast on a plum-purple cushion. It had been carefully arrayed to look as if it could be sleeping, with its fox-like snout tucked under its bushy white tail.

The energy was nervous, but beneath the tension was a comfortable familiarity.

On our return journey from the mountain—the descent was much easier than the climb, as we’d been allowed to fly—Naesia, Riven, and the others had continually assured me that our battle was one that would echo down through history, told in great tapestries and frescoes on the walls of their respective clan homes.

The doors opened, and our procession began forward. Naesia, as the leader of our hunt, entered first with her phoenixes behind her. She wore a red and gray gown embroidered in gold and was draped in chains and jewels. Each of her phoenix followers was adorned in equal finery.

The dragons followed, led by Vireah. Her long, pink hair was carefully coiffed atop her head, exposing her neck and shoulders. Teal scales in the form of an armored gown spilled down to her ankles, broken by the occasional twinkling gemstone.

Behind the dragons, Riven walked side by side with his sister, Romii. The pair looked striking with their identical dark hair and red eyes. Riven’s horns swept back and then up, slightly out to the sides, while Romii’s curled back and down until they pointed forward again, like a ram’s. Both wore suits of deep gray and green, matching their two clan members who came behind. The basilisk who’d lost his arm had the sleeve shorn off at the shoulder, proudly displaying the scarred stump.

Zelyna led her leviathans in a position of pride just before my own clan. Veruhn’s daughter wore her etched leather armor supported by knitted scales down her shoulders and legs, worn like a shawl and skirt. In a reversal of the other clans, her kinsmen were dressed in more flamboyant garb, making her stand out in her utilitarian attire.

Finally, my clan and I stepped into the grand hall. I immediately spotted my mother. She was standing off in a little pocket of open space, as if she were hesitant to linger too closely to the powerful asuras who surrounded her.

Next, I located each of the other great lords, spread throughout among their own small delegations. The other races were significantly outnumbered by the dragons present. The crowd applauded politely as each group of four entered, with Vireah and her Indrath escorts receiving the most attention. My clan and I received a muted response by comparison, but I only acknowledged this with one small thread of my thoughts.

Beside me, Ellie was draped in a floor-length silver gown. Garnets and amethysts studded the shoulders, and purple embroidery swept down the length of the gown like swirling currents of aether. It was a gift from Veruhn’s clothiers, and I could tell just how much Ellie loved it by the way she kept looking down at herself to watch the fabric and shining embroidery move.

Sylvie wore a scale dress like Vireah’s, except in silver and amethyst hues. Beside her, Chul looked uncomfortable in a borrowed leather jerkin fabricated from the golden hide of some Epheotan mana beast with embroidery of red thread.

‘Still say it’s not fair that I didn’t get a fancy outfit for the big party,’ Regis thought from the rear, where he padded along beside Boo.

‘Maybe when you become a real boy,’ Sylvie teased, outwardly keeping a straight face as the crowd politely applauded for our entrance.

My own attire had also been lovingly crafted by the leviathans, a gift waiting for me upon my return from the hunt. I appreciated that Veruhn understood me well enough to keep it simple. Dark, tapered trousers contrasted against a startlingly white doublet with split sleeves that revealed a hint of gray beneath. A thick golden belt was fastened around my waist, and a teal cloak draped across my shoulders, falling almost to the floor.

My ensemble was completed by King’s Gambit and Realmheart, conjuring a crown on my brow around which floated pale locks of my hair, and violet runes glowing beneath my eyes.

Several other threads of my consciousness kept note of my surroundings: primarily, those present, and their actions.

Charon drew my eye first, his rough appearance making him stand out against the backdrop of shining, colorful asuras. He stood off by himself, and he watched me like a hawk. I caught a glimpse of Vajrakor as well, deep in conversation with Sarvash of the Matali clan, the dark-haired, bearded dragon I’d struck after the battle to reclaim Oludari Vritra from the Wraiths.

Veruhn lingered in oblivious conversation with Morwenna, leader of the hamadryads. As always, she stood stiff as a statue, looking as if she could have been carved from wood. Lords Rai and Novis flanked Radix of Clan Grandus, who watched the basilisks and phoenixes march through the hall with a sour look.

The Aerind and Thyestes clans were notably absent. I knew that the sylphs disliked convening under enclosed roofs and did everything they could to avoid exactly this kind of gathering. Ademir of the Thyestes, on the other hand, was deeply at odds with Kezess. Clearly their conflict hadn’t been resolved in my absence.

Naesia stopped twenty feet or so in front of Kezess’s throne, where he sat overlooking the festivities with his usual sharp gaze. His eyes were a light lavender in color today, but otherwise, he looked and dressed as he always did.

The rest of the asuran hunters moved to stand level with the phoenixes, leaving a path open in the center for me and my companions. We filled in the space, then Chul and I took a single step forward. “Lord Indrath,” I announced simply. “I present you the trophy of our hunt: a questing beast of legend, the likes of which has never been seen in Epheotus before, nor will be seen again.”

Kezess stood, his focus intensely on the posed body of the small creature. Chul stepped forward, outwardly oblivious of his own unlikely position in this ceremony, and Kezess took a few slow, purposeful steps away from the throne. When they met, both stopped. At this point, Chul was supposed to go down on one knee. He did not.

After waiting only a beat, Kezess seemed to realize this small disobedience. He reached out, brushing his fingers through the fox-like tail. “A glorious hunt that will be many times in the retelling, I’m sure,” he projected, his voice ringing into every corner of the huge chamber. “I am told my wife has promised a boon toward the hunt’s victors.”

“It was a battle no single asura or clan could have won alone,” I said in answer, matching my tone and volume to Kezess’s. “The victory belonged to us all.”

Naesia took a half-step out of the line of hunters. “The Avignis clan would ensure the truth is known. This victory belongs to Clan Leywin. Lord Arthur defeated this beast almost single-handedly when the rest of our efforts proved fruitless.”

Vireah was the next to advance. “Whatever boon the Lord of the Indrath clan sees fit to give should go to the archons, our newly risen brothers and sisters.” Her words were echoed by the rest of the asuras.

Kezess smiled around, looking unusually chipper. “A great hunt, orchestrated and undertaken by some of our brightest youths, bringing together members of five of our great clans. It is with much pride and respect that I welcome you and your clans into my home. You’ve each displayed great humility, daring, and skill. I can see in your faces and how you interact that this trial has brought you closer together.

“In addition, this was a chance for Clan Leywin to show exactly why they’ve been elevated to their new station, and it is clear they have succeeded.” Kezess paused, and a rumbling was briefly audible from the back rows of the crowd. The voices cut off immediately, and although Kezess did not outwardly react, I had no doubt he’d paused just to allow these voices to rise above the din, effectively calling out any detractors. “Please, eat, drink, and socialize. Hunters, enjoy each other’s company for these last moments before you return to your clan-homes.”

The crowd’s focus broke, and the gathered asura, momentarily homogenous, dissolved into individuals and small groups once more. Riven patted my back forcefully while Naesia squeezed my wrist before leading the other phoenixes to where her father, Novis, waited with a large congregation from Featherwalk Aerie.

Vireah hugged my sister before giving Sylvie a respectful bow. She caught my eye for a lingering moment, then went to find her mother and clanmates. Riven leaned against me and watched her go. Conspiratorially, he said, “A fine warrior, that one. She’d make a good wife, I think.” He nudged me. “You know, my own sister, Romii, has been speaking of you quite often as well. She—”

“Can hear you,” Romii said, suddenly pushing Riven from behind. The basilisk laughed, held up his hands, shot me a wink, and started to retreat.

The basilisk who’d lost his arm, Ishan, joined in the laughter and hooked Romii with his good arm. His bright red eyes jumped around, looking everywhere but at me. “Come on,” Ishan was saying. “Let’s eat, drink, and then get the abyss out of here. I can’t wait to spend the next few days lounging around the healers and regrowing my arm.”

The two followed Riven in the direction of the basilisk delegation.

“The food does smell incredible,” Chul rumbled, patting his stomach. “Come, Regis. Feast with me.”

Regis’s tail wagged excitedly. “You don’t have to tell me twice. I worked up quite the appetite saving your ass from that beast.”

Chul gave a booming laugh and kicked one of Regis’s front paws out from under him as he took a step, causing the shadow wolf form to stumble clumsily. Regis responded by nipping at Chul’s ankles, drawing uncertain looks from some of the nearby dragons.

“Your companions grow more at home here with each passing day,” Zelyna said. She was the last of our hunting party to hang back. Shooting a look at Kezess, who was now speaking to a small circle of other high-ranking asura, she quietly added, “Do not be lulled into a false sense of security.” She then inclined her head slightly, gave my sister a wry smile, and strode away, leaving the grand hall.

‘My grandfather is in a strangely pleasant mood today,’ Sylvie thought. She clasped hands with Ellie, who was staring around in wonder. My sister grinned at my bond. Out loud, Sylvie said, “Come on, let’s go see your mother. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so uncomfortable.”

As if waiting for me to be alone, several asuras—a mix of dragons, hamadryads, and titans—swarmed in, peppering me with compliments and questions about our hunt. I withdrew the bulk of my King’s Gambit-empowered mind to other tasks, speaking with the asuras in a polite but practiced way.

In the days following our hunt, I’d had a lot of time to think. Too much, according to Sylvie and Regis. The hunt itself had clarified several important details for me, and opened up many more questions about the future of Epheotus and its people. I was beginning to feel like the gravitational center of a vast galaxy of decisions to be made, each one spiraling around me and fading in and out of my focus.

After multiple rounds of well-wishers and curious asura coming to have a look at me, a familiar face approached.

“Sarvash of the Matali clan,” I announced, holding out a hand as a gesture of good will. We had not parted company on the best of terms last time.

The dragon gave me a steel-eyed look as he took my hand. “Lord Archon. I…” He hesitated. After withdrawing his hand, he crossed his arms and scoffed. “Didn’t I say you’d never be an asura, no matter how much you pretended? More the fool, I, then. Clan Intharah has long been close with the Matali clan, and young Vireah’s account of your hunt is already circulating among us. I was dismissive of your abilities after our battle with the Wraiths. I apologize for that.”

“No need,” I answered honestly. I considered apologizing for striking him, but given the change in our comparative station, I elected not to. “It was a tense moment. You lost a member of your family. I know that pain.”

We both fell silent, thoughtful. After several long seconds, Sarvash cleared his throat. “I won’t take up any more of your time, Lord Archon.” With a nod, he slipped back into the crowd, returning to his people.

“Nice to see you getting along.”

Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I found Kezess standing right next to me. “No point making enemies where allies could easily be found instead.” As I spoke, I let my gaze jump to Morwenna, Radix, Charon, and Myre. I lingered on Myre, who was flowing around the outer edge of the hall speaking to all she passed. In her younger form, she was enchanting, and I was reminded unfavorably of stories from my youth, those of witches ensorcelling weak-minded townsfolk and children.

A flicker of annoyance passed over Kezess’s features. “So, you have earned a boon.” He began to walk. It was obvious that he expected me to follow. I’d already considered how this conversation would go and was eager to have it, so I fell into stride beside him. “What would Arthur Leywin, lord of the archon race, ask of me? Guarantees for the fate of Dicathen, perhaps, or maybe a promise not to harm your friend, Chul, or any of his traitorous kin.”

He glanced at me, but if he was hoping to shock me, he’d fallen far short. I knew he’d recognize Chul for what he was immediately, but the fact that Chul hadn’t immediately been apprehended on entering Epheotus meant they were unlikely to do so now. Besides, the Path of Insight had already given away Mordain and his clan’s survival in Dicathen.

Whatever his purpose, Kezess at least had the good grace not to look disappointed. “Or perhaps you’ll ask my leave to propose marriage to one of the lovely young asuras who participated in this hunt. I’m sure Novis and Rai have been pushing hard to make you see the sense of such an alliance.”

I chuckled. “You weren’t exactly subtle about sending Vireah my way.”

Kezess gave me a rare smile, his lavender eyes crinkling at the corners. “Must keep up appearances, mustn't we?”

I stopped and glanced around, gauging my timing. The other lords of the great clans had taken seats at a table set off to one side of the hall and appeared to be deeply involved in some private conversation. The rest of the asuras in attendance gave this table a wide berth.

“The truth is,” I began, veering off our course slightly to bring us closer to the rest of the great lords, “I don’t need to ask you for any of those things. I am my own assurance that the…events of the past won’t be repeated in Dicathen. The same can be said of Chul’s safety.” I spoke at a normal volume but projected my voice in such a way that I knew it would reach the ears of Veruhn and the others. “I don’t need your boon, Kezess.”

I stopped walking, strategically placing a column between Kezess and the other lords. Radix watched me openly, while Morawenna cast nervous looks at the column hiding her lord. The others put on a show of not listening.

“I see,” Kezess answered softly. His eyes darkened to a plum color, and the air grew heavy around him. “A shame. I thought perhaps our clans were growing closer. I admit I’m disappointed to be proven wrong.”

“You mean you’re disappointed to miss out on yet another way to try and make me beholden to you,” I said. There was no disrespect or vitriol in my voice, only the pure statement of fact. “As if the mark you left on me isn’t enough to ensure my adherence to our deal.” This was a risk, as it drew Kezess’s attention to the aetheric binding he’d placed on me when I first agreed to walk the Path of Insight for him—which I’d immediately broken and replaced with my own aether.

“But that doesn’t mean we miss an opportunity to build trust with each other.”

Kezess’s brows furrowed, and he fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve. “A strange tone to take if that is your stated goal, Arthur.”

I cocked my head to the side, careful not to glance at our eavesdroppers. “I’m just trying to be clear, Kezess. Because if we’re to be peers, reliance must go both directions. I refuse to take more from you now, but I am willing to give you something.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he searched my own, then widened with realization. He straightened and adjusted his jacket. “And what is it you have to give me that would be of any value?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer.

It had been in the aftermath of our hunt as I watched the others recuperating and healing that the decision had clicked into place. Conversation with the young asuras had started the wheel spinning, and the shared vision with Sylvie had forced me into a new perspective, but in the end, it had been my comradery with the hunters—and my knowledge of what must happen to their homes and their peoples—that made me reconsider my initial answer to Kezess.

“I will give you the mourning pearl to heal Agrona.”

Veruhn coughed, choking on his drink.

Smiling wryly, Kezess took a step forward, forcing me to back up or let him trod on my foot. He stared at the other great lords. Morwenna looked down, appearing almost disappointed with herself. Rai and Novis both made a show of drinking deeply from their elaborate goblets. Radix stared not at Kezess, but Veruhn, who had to cover his mouth with a handkerchief as he struggled to catch his breath.

Kezess made no effort to disguise his sneer. “Well played, Arthur.”

If Kezess really could heal Agrona, then he could not only make the High Sovereign face judgement and punishment, giving the people of Epheotus closure, but he could also help these youthful asuras understand their own past, and how it intersects with that of my world. In that understanding, I hoped to begin a path toward belief in the future I needed them to not only see but to desire.

“We’ll do it immediately, while so many of us are still in my castle,” Kezess said after giving the matter some thought. “Go. Mingle. Search for these allies you claim to seek. I will send for you when it is time.”

With that, he spun and marched from the hall, his sleeves billowing and his steps thunderous. There was a lull as everyone stopped to watch him go. Many trailing eyes shifted to me when he was gone.

‘So…did we win? It seems like we won, but aren’t we giving Kezess exactly what he wants?’ Regis asked into my mind.

Sylvie caught my eye from across the room. ‘Not only did Arthur put himself in a position to publicly decline a boon from Kezess, he turned the tables and made it clear to the other lords that Kezess was reliant on Arthur instead.’ She paused, raising one brow meaningfully. ‘A maneuver which you said you’d be careful in delivering.’

I was extremely careful, I thought, glancing over at Veruhn and the rest of my peers. Morwenna was standing and preparing to leave. Radix leaned back, his arms crossed over his broad chest, glaring down at a plate of half-eaten food. Rai and Novis had their heads together and whispered back and forth urgently.

Veruhn, his coughing fit subsiding, excused himself from the others and stood. I waited for him to approach, which he did. “You remember what I said?” The question was simple, matter-of-fact.

“I do,” I answered.

The ancient leviathan nodded, his glassy eyes drifting across the room. After pausing for several seconds, he marched away wordlessly, heading for his daughter and the other leviathans.

I located my mother and crossed the hall to her, avoiding several attempts to start up conversations along the way.

She beamed at me. “Arthur. Art. You cut quite the dashing figure even amongst all of these gods.”

My sister, standing next to Mom, twirled. “We’re definitely the best-looking archons at the party!”

Mom rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I am proud of you, you know. And Rey…your father would be, too, if he were here.”

Ellie made a noise somewhere between a laugh, a hiccup, and a sob. “He wouldn’t believe any of this.”

Mom shook her head. “Actually, I don’t think he’d be surprised at all. He always believed his son could do anything.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, sharing their sad smile. “He’d say something like, ‘I always knew you’d end up a deity, my boy.’ Then he’d challenge me to a wrestling match or a spar, right here in the middle of the hall.”

We laughed together, then fell to chatting casually, reminding each other of old stories and wondering about the state of affairs back home. Others flowed in and out of the conversation, but my focus turned toward what was to come after the celebration ended. As if my attention sped its arrival, soon enough people were beginning to offer us their farewells before exiting, and the crowd grew sparse.

It felt like barely any time had passed before Morwenna of the Mapellia clan returned. Her butter-yellow eyes sought me out from across the grand hall, and she approached stiffly. “Lord Indrath is ready for you.” The other great lords had already left.

Mom and Ellie looked at me in surprise, but I waved away any concern they may have had. “We’ll be staying at the castle for the time being. Sylvie will arrange everything with the staff.” After giving Mom a quick kiss on the cheek and ruffling Ellie’s hair, I gestured for Morwenna to lead the way.

Regis hurried over. Instead of causing a scene by padding along at my side, he melted into my body. Sylvie and Chul stayed behind.

Morwenna led us out of the grand hall, along a series of corridors, down several stairs, and finally to a barren patch of wall. The tall hamadryad waved a bark-covered hand, and a portal appeared inside the stone. She stood aside, and I stepped through.

I was back in the plain stone corridor that led to Agrona’s prison cell.

Morwenna appeared beside me, then continued down the corridor. Before, there had been solid walls on both sides. Now, a single door marked the point where Agrona’s cell existed. Morwenna gave a stiff knock, and the door opened inward.

The cell had expanded considerably since I’d last been there. It was roomy enough to easily contain Novis, Rai, Radix, and Kezess, while still accommodating Agrona, who floated in a beam of light at one side of the chamber. Morwenna joined the others, and they all watched me carefully. Each asuran lord wore a unique expression, but these powerful beings couldn’t entirely hide the thread of worry that connected them all.

Veruhn was notably absent. As I looked at Agrona, I recalled Veruhn’s words—his prophecy—about the mourning pearls he’d gifted to me.

“Three parts to your being. Three boundaries to your transcendence. Three lives bound to you in obligation. You are the heart of the maelstrom. All around you, chaos. In your wake, destruction.”

His words didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but even with King’s Gambit, I had elected not to overburden myself dissecting the meanings of this “prophecy.” Not that I doubted these echoes Veruhn saw in the aether-rich waves of the boundary sea, but I’d had more than enough experience with the temptations and dangers of foresight.

Kezess held out his hand. Reaching into the extradimensional space connected to the runes on my arm, I withdrew the small blue pearl. Before handing it over, I rolled it around in my fingers, watching the liquid within swirl. Several seconds passed. Kezess’s brows pinched together ever so slightly. Biting back any second thoughts or regret, I set the pearl in his palm.

Kezess took it firmly but carefully in his fist, then wasted no time. Approaching Agrona’s prone, floating form, he opened the dirty, ripped shirt with a wave of his hand. Kezess didn’t even bother to use a knife, just drew his finger down Agrona’s chest, and the skin opened. Meat and bone separated, revealing the rough black lump that was Agrona’s core.

Deftly, Kezess inserted the mourning pearl, then stood back.

Nothing happened immediately. Morwenna shuffled, then forced herself to be still. I caught Rai, Radix, and Novis exchanging a look.

The wound began to glow.

Just like with Chul and then Tessia, mana poured forth, a veritable sea of it. The prison cell was bathed in light, and Agrona’s flesh rapidly knit back together. The mana glowed through his skin, growing brighter and brighter until he was little more than a white silhouette.

Something was happening. This felt different than before.

Regis bristled inside me.

The other lords took a step back. Even Kezess shifted, his stormy purple eyes intent on Agrona.

“His horns…” Novis spoke in barely a whisper.

My gaze locked onto the antler-like basilisk horns that spread out from atop his head. They were shrinking, the spines retracting, the central trunks growing thicker. His frame broadened, and he seemed to stretch, growing several inches taller. His features were shifting, but through the light, it was difficult to make out the specifics.

“It’s not healing him, it’s transforming him,” Morwenna said, shooting me a distrustful glare.

The light and wash of mana was beginning to fade. Details slowly became clear.

The once sharp-featured face was now broad and flat. Dull, blood-clot red eyes blinked open and shut rapidly. An unfamiliar face gazed around the room, bleary and struggling to focus.

Radix’s face scrunched in a combination of interest and disbelief. “This sort of fusion of mana arts. Who…”

Kezess was sneering at the Vritra, his fists clenched, knuckles gone white.

“Who is this?” I asked, feeling suddenly like the only one not in on a secret.

Rai took me by the arm and pulled me back a step. “This isn’t Agrona. It’s Khaernos Vritra.”