The Column of Ash [Epic Fantasy]

The meeting of magistrosi was not an important one, but that usually didn't matter to Demetria, who could always make herself alert and aware for whatever work was needed. She filled in for Daecinus, speaking as best she could on concerns of preparation for war. The more interesting aspect of the meeting was reading the other magistrosi, trying to spot any stretched truths or hidden motives, but thus far, all were mostly honest. Even with Daecinus gone, they stayed on good behavior. Could his display of harsh justice in Ersani explain this? Is it fear that holds them steady when opportunism might dictate otherwise? Or are they simply motivated to see this war through, knowing what awaits us in Vasia? It was an important question—perhaps one of the most important—yet it was also nearly impossible to know. I need to put more work into developing a proper network of informants.

Still, even with all these considerations before her, Demetria couldn't focus. A worrying thought, spurred on by intuitions of concern and fear, grew from the spot in her mind where Daecinus's mental presence lingered. Over a vast distance, everything was dampened, shrinking his presence into the faintest of whispers, sometimes even unheard. Only the strongest emotions and thoughts could transmit over such distances, and even then, she occasionally couldn't make them out into anything distinct. The bond was almost nonexistent with such separation.

But now it was different. Demetria was seated, listening attentively, when it hit her, almost eliciting a gasp. Daecinus was afraid, furious, and then defeated.

Defeated…

That was not right. Not at all.

She passed the meeting as alert as she could be, then excused herself early and sought out Desirdus, the older archon Sorcerer and political head of the Second Fleet, whom she trusted with more sensitive tasks and plans. They stood over a map as a cartographer calculated the potential distance traveled on horseback from Novakrayu to the Grand Observatory in the days since he'd left. There was quite a range of uncertainty, but it was feasible that he'd arrived at the Observatory today. The timing of the wave of powerful emotions was simply too concerning to ignore.

"Great Lady," Desirdus said as the cartographer left the chamber, "need we worry about the Returned One? It is not foretold that his fall should happen before a new age is ushered in. And though I view these shifts in governance as potentially drastic, it is not enough to qualify as the end of our age as of yet. Therefore, he has not fallen."

Demetria strummed the table with her fingertips, nails softly clicking on the smooth wooden surface. Yes, she should trust Daecinus to handle whatever came his way—he was the most powerful Sorcerer in New Petha and perhaps in the world. But there were two possible exceptions to that status: the priest in Nova and Maecia. Could Maecia have done something to elicit those emotions? The fear and anger were worrying, yes, but that sense of defeat?

She knew him too well to dismiss the emotion.

"I trust Daecinus to handle most threats, but this was different. I just feel it," she said, pulling her shoulders back and facing the archon with the strength and determination necessary. "He is not one to take himself out of harm's way if he thinks his intervention is necessary. He could be in danger, and as unlikely as it is, Maecia could be the one responsible."

His abundant brow drew upward in surprise and concern. "The Honorary Episcos is a woman of strong intent and will. If her plans conflicted with the Returned One's own… Yes, though it pains me, I see your point. Ignatia could be in trouble, too. Would you like me to go then? I can bring an escort."

"If he is in danger, then we need a stronger response." Do I go myself? I am weaker than Daecinus is and untrained in battle. Can I help much? It was difficult to say, for there was also the problem of maintaining stability here. If she left with most other loyalists, would the upset archons see it as an opening to strike? Would the magistrosi? And further, what if it got out that Daecinus was in trouble? That might very well undercut their entire efforts in New Petha! "I will speak with Magistros Eudoxia and see if she can go under the veneer of a field exercise dealing with Dead or some such issue on the mainland. You may join her. Once there, you can proceed toward the Observatory. If the Black Han can spare any troops in Novakrayu, that would be much appreciated. He owes us, still. This must all be done quietly." Demetria thought of Maecia and her potential betrayal, clenching her jaw tight. "Whatever her position and fame here, if she opposes us, then all of this is for naught, and Vasia wins. Select loyalists—anyone who can face her in a fight without endangering their allegiance. Whatever your beliefs and previous loyalties, know that all rests upon Daecinus's safety. If Maecia opposes us, Desirdus… If she has betrayed and endangered Daecinus… There will be no room for compromise. I want her crushed."

…

Emalia watched helplessly as Daecinus was beaten. She was used as leverage, as a bargaining chip. And though she doubted he could kill his own sister at that moment, it didn't help her self-blame for being little more than a weakness for Daecinus. She shook herself from such thoughts and shuffled over to the man. He had a Greyskin watching him, whereas she and Sovina only had a human watchman. Nearby, the Sorcerer named Ignatia, if Emalia's memory was correct, lay unconscious, watched by another of the Dead. Ignatia had tried to help Daecinus and was hit pretty hard by one of the men for it.

All Daecinus's warriors were dead. They seemed good, as far as mercenaries went, and it hurt to see them gone. Particularly when, in a roundabout fashion, she'd been instrumental in leading them to their deaths. Stop it. Enough of that. Not everything is about you, she thought to herself, squatting down next to Daecinus, who sat on the floor, watching Maecia direct work for a combination of humans and Dead. There were perhaps a dozen humans at the location and more than two dozen Dead. More before the fight, of course.

"How are you doing?" she asked him.

"As well as you might expect, I would say." He didn't look away from his sister. She tried reading his face, but it was steeled over. His angular features looked severe, particularly in the angled glow of the sun filtering through the many high windows of the Grand Observatory. "Where is Protis?"

"Underground in a locked room. They bound him up. Uh, it, I mean."

"Underground? There is no sublayer here."

"I think one was dug."

"I see."

"For what it's worth, I am sorry. Truly. I wish... I wish I could have stopped her, Daecinus…"

"I thought myself prepared and still was defeated soundly. She's grown in the years we've been apart." His expression, already sharp, darkened. "She's stronger than I am. Than that priest of the Column is. I underestimated her. And yet she uses her strength for self-annihilation."

Emalia nodded, feeling her own mood darken further. "So, you've figured out what she's doing here."

"At first, I didn't understand it… Why here? Why my creation? However, it appears that some of the building's elements were untouched. See there?" He pointed to a massive bronze ring encapsulating all the rest. It looked weathered, scarred, and ancient, though, oddly, not rusted. "An original section. She wants to leverage the Sorcery engine I built. Or what's left of it. And out here, no interested parties can get in the way."

"Engine? So that's what they do."

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"Yes. It should enable her to push beyond her means as a Sorcerer to reach the High and, with sufficient modifications, the Low. But instead of a foolhardy attempt at usurping their power, she will block it so Souls still separate and leave our plane, but none can be called down to empower Spells. Over time, more Souls leave our plane, withering a Sorcerer's supply of latent, available fuel. I imagine she's been doing this for some time but is now expanding her efforts with the aim of cutting us off for good." With each word, the life seemed to leave the poor man as if he were accepting some kind of terrible, unavoidable truth. "Wendof was right about this, as I feared. Gah! I should have prepared. I should have..."

Emalia focused on the problem at hand. That always helped her. "Blocking access on a global scale would require a massive expenditure of Souls. Every time a Sorcerer challenges that blockage, it would strain her Spell, right? How could she afford it?"

"Sacrifices."

She cocked her head, confused. "That's too small a scale, Daecinus. A sacrifice wouldn't…" Her eyes widened. "You're not speaking of individuals, are you?"

"She's changed drastically. She was always a woman of determination and conviction, but this is excessive. I looked into her eyes and saw a sliver of what I knew. Whatever she's gone through… Whatever she's committed herself to… It's significant. So yes, I think she is willing to sacrifice many for this pursuit." He grimaced. "In Drazivaska, I read of rogue Sorcerer attacks on the outskirts of Vasian holdings, sometimes reaching in, threatening Nova—"

"It's happened multiple times earlier on. Less so in the last two hundred years, though a few instances stand out at the borders. Gods, you think that was her?"

"Yes. I believe she may have tried to fight Vasia first, then failed, and finally resolved herself to this."

Sovina appeared beside them, ever capable of eavesdropping, it seemed. "She's got a lot of humans working for her. I've counted over twenty different people in the last few days. Some are coming and going."

Twenty? Emalia didn't catch the movements clearly. This was bigger than she expected.

Daecinus nodded, jaw setting, red eyes locking on their human guard, making him take an uncomfortable step back. He gave them enough space for relative privacy, even under the Greyskin monstrosity's close watch. "That implies organization," he muttered. "I shouldn't be surprised. That was always her calling. I wonder how extensive the network is, particularly to afford, procure, and transport such bronze rings."

"Can you beat her?" Sovina asked.

"No. Even with my Artifacts, I couldn't, not soundly enough to avoid catastrophe."

"She'd do that? Hold everyone—including herself—hostage?" Emalia shook her head in disbelief. "It has to be a bluff."

"She is that dedicated, I'm afraid."

Sovina stood, lip curling in disgust. "So then what? We accept our fates and die? We need to fight, Daecinus."

"Sit down."

"I'm not—"

"Sit." It was not an ask but a command. Emalia tugged at her companion's arm, and Sovina complied.

"Get me close enough, and I'll do it," Sovina muttered.

"The first priority is freeing Protis to warn Novakrayu and, by extension, New Petha," Daecinus whispered as if Sovina hadn't spoken, hand clutching his other arm near the stump at the elbow, fingers strumming. "By now, with luck, Demetria will have felt my emotions. She'll be summoning a force to send my way—hopefully without her present. New Petha must remain stable, and she'll likely judge her own influence there too important. I imagine she'd hand this to someone reliable and trustworthy… Eudoxia comes to mind, naturally. She'll bring a number of loyal Sorcerers and Dead. If it will be enough to handle Maecia, I don't know. I do not expect this to be the extent of my sister's strength."

"That's right!" Emalia said, trying to keep quiet, though excited with the notion of forming a plan to do something. "We think she's leaving here soon. I don't believe the, uh, engine is sufficient on its own. We overheard her saying something about Kremya, of all places. We think she wants to raise more Dead. But why?"

"There is one missing element to her construction, which I can see: fuel. You are right, Emalia; she will need an army to attain the fuel she needs. That's why we need to get Protis out of here to warn them."

"Them?" Sovina asked, frowning.

"Oh no," Emalia muttered. "She's going to go for Novakrayu, isn't she? That's what you meant by warn them? Do you really think she would do such a thing?"

Daecinus stared at the ground, jaw so tight she could see the muscles flexing in his cheeks. "I'm afraid it is a distinct possibility that she intends to use everyone in Novakrayu for fuel."

…

We waited for nightfall to pursue our plan. The darkness did little against Sorcerous vision, but it did somewhat counter the humans; besides, even my sister had to sleep. Crucially, even as I'd surrendered almost all my Artifacts to Maecia, I'd still kept the Sorcerous eye hidden under my clothing. Either she didn't search me thoroughly or simply didn't care, knowing I would not attack her, but I felt its cold presence on my flesh and took a deep breath. Emalia and Sovina were awake, though they pretended to be asleep. I caught the flash of the whites of their eyes as we looked at each other. It was time to begin.

I stood and looked at the Reaver. It was not intelligent, not like my Soulborne, and could only obey simple commands like guarding or fighting. There was a reason we only ever used them as simple shock troops in war. As such, there was significant nuance in guarding a prisoner that Maecia's simple creations could hardly muster. So, I walked from the creature to the drowsy human guard. He startled, standing straight to regard me cautiously.

"What?" he asked with a frown.

"I require an escort."

"Why?"

"I need to go outside."

"Oh, do you?"

I frowned at him. "I need to urinate, and I refuse to do so in my own domain."

"It's not your domain anymore. It's the mistress's." I didn't deign him a response. "Ugh, fine." He went over to the Reaver and gestured toward me. "Follow him outside. Continue your duties watching over him."

The creature made no noise of confirmation or understanding but moved to shadow me as I exited the Grand Observatory. So Maecia divested some element of control to her guards, as I thought.

Instead of simply wandering out into the dark, I turned and found the horses; inside the saddlebags of one of Emalia and Sovina's mounts was an Artifact from Novakrayu that masked one's Sorcerous presence—a necklace of silver and bone. We theorized it was how those Sorcerer priests snuck under our noses for so long. The one on the ship must have thrown theirs out to avoid getting it into the wrong hands. Regardless, with it, my Spells should be at least somewhat masked, though I doubted it would do much. As I took the Artifact out, the Reaver drew close with a rumbling warning. Still, it did not stop me. It didn't know what this was or if I should have it. Its only directives were to stop me from escaping or attacking, essentially.

Still, that didn't mean that the Reaver wouldn't take it from me when it had the chance.

"This spot seems agreeable," I said, flashing Soulsight to spot Protis down below. The Reaver didn't seem to react to my Spell, which was a good thing, for otherwise, I would be dealing with an angry, dangerous Reaver in close quarters. With Protis's location in mind, I strode to the side of the Grand Observatory with the Dead in tow until I was roughly above my creation's location.

This should be far enough. Without turning, trying to appear as casual as possible, I sucked the latent power from the Sorcerer's Eye, stored up from past use, and tried to seize the Reaver's mind. It was not easy taking control of another's Dead, particularly when the Sorcerer was powerful. But Maecia was not here to protect this lone creature, and I was certainly no weakling myself. Thus, after a moment of struggle, the Reaver's warding protections broke, and I took control. As soon as it happened, I stared about, ready for an attack, but none came. Could it really be so easy?

Hardly. There would be at least a dozen Reavers patrolling the outskirts of the hills, ready to pounce on us should we leave, and even if I wished to risk such engagements without my Artifacts, I didn't know if I could risk Emalia, Sovina, and especially Ignatia, who was recovering from her head wound. And then, while away, what could we do that Protis could not? We would just slow the Soulborne down on its journey to Novakrayu. But with Maecia, we could learn more about her plan, her forces, and her timing. We had to stay behind.

I stared at the Reaver and pointed to a point on the ground a few paces from the structure's wall. "Dig."

It did as commanded without a moment of hesitation. I exhaled softly and sat down with my back to the building, watching my surroundings. This was the most dangerous point. If a different Dead thrall of Maecia's saw us here, I was uncertain whether they could tell the Reaver was under my control or not. I supposed not, but it was hard to say.

As it dug, I considered the ramifications of what I had to do to ensure Maecia could not force my hand. She could threaten another and use that against me to force Protis's return—this was why I could not send a Reaver I stole, even if I could somehow circumnavigate the issue of its lack of communication abilities and dependence on my proximity. Protis was the only way. Besides, I selfishly wished my creation to be free of this danger. It was too far along, too developed and sentient to lose here.

After longer than I would have liked, the Reaver finished its work and stood dumbly at the top of the hole to look at me. "Any threats inside?" I asked.

It merely stared at me.

"Clear any threats beside Protis—my Soulborne."

It slunk down into the shadowed depths as I glanced around the corner, hoping Emalia and Sovina's side of things went as smoothly as mine.