Transcendence, page 16
part #6 of The Beginning After The End Series
Brier nodded in reply, and we continued our trek until one of his men—a woman, actually—pointed out a few more trees with the same corrosion in the middle of their trunks. Some trees were still standing, the acid making only a small hole, while others were melted down to the roots.
A sharp snap from above caused us all to immediately whirl toward the sound. The woman swiftly nocked an arrow on her bow and fired.
The arrow struck the source of the sound… a branch. Letting out the breath I hadn’t meant to hold, I studied the branch that had fallen, realizing that parts of it had been corroded by the same acid on the trees. I shot a menacing glare at the archer, who immediately dipped her head apologetically. Incompetent.
I signaled for everyone to continue, but stayed close to the rear of the team in case anything were to happen.
Though the winds continued to buffet the trees around us, the forest was eerily quiet. There was no scuttering of nearby animals, and I had yet to hear the call of a single bird—it was almost as if the inhabitants of the forest had all run for their lives.
Suddenly a pained scream pierced the silence. We stopped again as everyone looked toward me for guidance.
From the deep timbre of the scream, it sounded like Ulric—but was it really worth giving our position away if he had already been caught? Whether it was the Lance or the supposed enemy he was facing, the element of surprise was one of our only advantages.
Brier, who had been close friends with Ulric since long before he’d joined my division as a head, stared at me with knitted brows. His eyes seemed to be asking me to let him go, but I motioned for him to wait. I separated our team of five into two groups, with Brier in the team of three, and the archer staying by my side, then we fanned out and slowly made our way toward the sound of Ulric’s scream.
The density of the trees dwindled as we approached a large clearing, with more and more signs of the acid evident around us. The ground beneath us abruptly dipped, almost causing us to tumble downhill into a mysterious fog that grew thicker as we got closer to the glade. With the archer covering me, and Brier and his group a few paces ahead to my left, I unclipped the handle of my artifact, Stormcrow, and imbued mana to transform it into a mighty halberd.
With the ghastly green mist blocking our view and the ground uneven below, I suppressed the temptation to turn back, keeping my thoughts fixed on my goal of becoming a Lance. I raised my arm, then, holding up three fingers, I silently counted down.
Three.
Two.
One.
With a roar, Brier slashed out with his serrated daggers, unleashing a torrent of sharp gales to dissipate the potentially dangerous mist.
What in the…
My will to fight all but vanished as the green fog cleared. Stormcrow nearly slipped out of my loosened fingers as we all stood and stared, jaws slack, at the scene just a few yards ahead.
We had unknowingly stumbled on the edge of a massive crater. In the center stood an enormous and awe-inspiring spear that made my priceless artifact, handed down through my family for generations, look like a used toothpick. Impaled on it was what seemed to be a lanky imp-like fiend.
The ground sizzled underneath the suspended monster, the same murky acid dripping from its grotesque body. A faint hiss sounded from the green fog continuously spewing from the gaping wound, but it was undoubtedly dead.
Perhaps the only thing more striking than that scene was the sight of the obsidian dragon so casually sleeping next to the boy slumped against a tree on the other side of the crater—a boy who could be none other than Arthur. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I had seen the dragon when Arthur was first knighted as a Lance, the fear currently gripping at my chest might have just squeezed the life out of my heart.
For a second, I thought the boy and his bond had both died during the fight, but the steady rise and fall of the dragon’s body said otherwise. I pried my gaze from the black dragon to see Ulric on the ground on the other side of the crater. His troops—minus one—were huddled around him, nursing the stumps where his left arm and leg used to be.
Perhaps the boy died in battle, I thought, hopeful. I assessed the situation as best I could from this distance. It was hard to see the state of the boy from here, but by the ragged breathing of the imposing beast beside him, it was safe to say they both had incurred some kind of damage.
I loosened my grip on Stormcrow. “Retrieve the general’s body.”
Brier signaled for one of his men to go forward—then Ulric, who’d now spotted us, flailed his remaining arm.
“Don’t!” Ulric and his troops screamed—but Brier’s subordinate had already leaped into the crater to make his way to the other side where Arthur was.
As Brier’s man dashed past the lanky fiend, a murky tentacle erupted from its body and clamped onto his ankle. The soldier howled in pain, but rather than pulling at him, the tentacle severed his mana-protected foot, sending him tumbling down toward the center of the crater. The soldier’s arm landed in the puddle of green sludge—almost immediately, the acid worked its way through his armor and flesh until not even bone was left.
The soldier, still shrieking in agony, pulled away from caustic substance, but the tentacle wrapped itself around his legs and dragged the rest of his body into the puddle.
We stood there, horrified and silent, the only sounds coming from the acid working through the soldier’s body and the archer retching behind me.
“Don’t go near the monster!” Ulric huffed, his voice labored from pain. “The general said it won’t attack if you keep your distance.”
“What is going on?!” I roared, losing my composure. “Give me a report!”
“We don’t exactly know, Captain,” one of Ulric’s troops sputtered. “We sensed mana fluctuations nearby so we scouted around the area; then Head Ulric and Esvin slipped and fell down into the crater. Head Ulric was able to make it out, but Esvin…”
“Is that monster still alive?” I asked, taking a step back in case another tentacle sprouted out of its body.
“No, it’s not.”
I whipped my head around toward the source of the hoarse voice. The boy was now awake. “You!” I raised Stormcrow, pointing it at Arthur. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
The Lance’s hard eyes, his irises nearly glowing with an azure radiance, focused on me from beneath his auburn bangs.
“With the death of that retainer? Yes.” His gaze remained harsh, his voice even. “With your soldiers’ deaths? No. That would be because that thing’s automatic defense spells are still active even after she’s died.”
I could feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment—the boy was talking to me as if I was a fool. “Why didn’t you help them, then—or warn us?”
“I’m sorry; did you want me to put up a caution sign?” the boy mocked. “Quite frankly, I’m having a hard time staying conscious, let alone warning mages who obviously didn’t want to be found.”
“General Leywin, you were under suspicion for fleeing in battle, but now that this new information has come to light, we’ll ask that you come with us so we can take you to the Council for further questioning,” I announced, afraid to take even a single step, despite Ulric’s reassurance.
But the boy remained seated against the tree. “I’ll go to the castle on my own accord. Right now, I have other matters to attend to,” he replied.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, General,” I said through gritted teeth. “Information on the enemy leaders is crucial. The Council needs to be informed at once.”
Gathering my wits, I started to make my way toward the boy—steering clear of the tentacles’ reach—when the obsidian dragon’s eyes shot open, freezing every one of us in our tracks.
Its shimmering topaz gaze bored directly into me, making my body shrivel reflexively. The dragon’s eyes contained a ferocity and wisdom that made every mana beast I had bested seem like a plush doll.
“Take another step if you wish to lose your head,” the dragon rumbled, baring its fangs.
“I-It speaks!” Brier cried out, stepping back in fear.
Gripping Stormcrow’s handle tighter to suppress my instinctive desire to retreat, I replied, “My apologies, mighty dragon. We have no intention of hurting your master. We simply wish to bring him safely to the Council and see to it that his wounds are treated.”
The dragon huffed out air from its snout, almost as if it scoffed at my words. “My promise still stands, Captain. Take another step—”
“Enough,” Arthur cut in as he leaned against the dragon to get to his feet. He came toward me with slow steps, but clearly had no intention of stopping.
He was tall for one his age, standing just a few inches over me, but it felt as though he were somehow towering over me. Unconsciously, I stepped out of his path as he walked past me without a single word, and made his way down to the center of the crater where the tentacle had killed one of my soldiers.
I cursed in my head—not at him, but at myself for being so ignorant. Only now did I begin to realize the gap between me and this boy.
I stood silently as he trudged carefully down the sloping ground. He came in range of the corroding vine, which seemed to be made of some mysterious mana, but the tentacle simply froze and shattered on contact.
The boy approached that puddle, capable of melting even armor and bone, and casually placed a foot over it. The acid froze into a solid state, and the boy stepped on it and reached up toward the monster. He pulled out a worn teal sword and said, “Sylvie, let’s go.”
The obsidian dragon beat its wings, creating a surge of wind below it. The dragon hovered over its master and lowered its tail for him to grab onto.
Mounted atop the mighty beast, the boy sheathed his sword and peered down at me, his look harsh and disapproving. “Get Captain Glory or someone else capable to take the retainer’s corpse to the Council.”
There was a sharp sting to his words that I would have punished anyone else for, but I held my tongue. The fear still lingering in me, and the overwhelmingly imposing pressure that he radiated as he gave his instructions, made me lose all the remaining confidence I had.
He truly was a Lance.
I sheathed my weapon and dropped to one knee. “Yes, General.”
Chapter 20
Covert
GREY
Nico, Cecilia, and I remained silent as we sat around the shoddy patio table, staring at the words printed on the fabric-like sheet of paper in our hands.
“We… we got in,” I finally muttered, not taking my eyes off of my acceptance letter. “I can’t believe we got in.”
“Speak for yourself. The only one Cecilia and I were worried about was you, Grey,” Nico teased, but even he couldn’t hide his excitement at the news.
“I can’t believe it either,” Cecilia whispered, her voice trembling.
“Whoa! Are you crying, Cecilia?”
“No. I just have something in my eye—that’s all.”
I finally pried my eyes from the acceptance letter in my hand to see Cecilia hurriedly wiping her eyes with the ends of her sleeves, her usually creamy cheeks flushed bright red.
“Congratulations, you three,” Headmaster Wilbeck’s clear voice sounded from the entrance to the backyard.
“Headmaster!” Nico exclaimed, proudly holding his letter up like a trophy for her to see.
“I’ll need to find some spare frames to display those letters,” she said with a smile as she walked toward us, then gave each one of us a hug.
Looking at the gentle smile on her face, a pang of guilt struck my chest. She was the woman who had raised me like a son ever since I could remember, yet I was selfishly going away to a distant city. “Headmaster… are you sure it’s okay for us to go? I can stay and help out at the orphanage. It’s no big deal. I’m no good at studying like Nico and Cecilia anyway; besides, it’s expensive and you’re getting old so—ouch!” I yelped, rubbing my stinging forehead.
“I’ll take you to the academy if I have to drag you in your underwear myself,” she scolded, her finger curled up, ready to flick me again. “All these years of raising a troublemaker like you has finally paid off and you want to—what? Stay here? Not on my watch.”
“Nico is the troublemaker. I just get dragged along!” I protested, raising my hands to protect my forehead from the assault.
“Then I guess Mr. Sever deserves one of these as well,” the headmaster declared, flicking my best friend’s forehead with the speed and accuracy of a trained soldier.
“Ow! Grey! What gives?” Nico cried, vigorously rubbing his forehead.
I heard a soft giggle beside me. Nico and I both snapped our heads around to see Cecilia smiling for the first time.
The two of us stared, wide-eyed and jaws agape. Even the headmaster was surprised.
“Did she finally break?” Nico whispered, leaning close to my ears.
I stabbed my friend in his side with my elbow, my eyes glued to the strange sight of Cecilia laughing. My chest tightened and I felt my face getting hot, but only when Cecilia noticed that we were all staring did I realize I was blushing, just like she was.
I quickly turned around and stood up to avoid her gaze, stretching for no reason other than to draw attention away from my face.
Headmaster Wilbeck must have seen through me, because she gave me that devious grin that made her look ten years younger.
“I’d better head back inside, kids. School doesn’t start for a few weeks, but make a list of things you’ll need so you don’t forget anything when one of the volunteers takes you all to town.” The headmaster made her way back to the sliding door she’d come from, turning around once more before stepping inside. “And congratulations again, you three.”
ARTHUR LEYWIN
‘We’re drawing near the border.’
Sylvie’s voice rang in my head, pulling me out of my slumber. The white clouds, still blurry to my tired eyes, slowly came back into focus as I blinked. I peered down below, seeing that we’d just passed the Sehz Canal, which flowed through Carn and Maybur City and into the western coast.
How are you feeling? I asked, stretching my sore neck and back with my legs dangling off the side at the base of my bond’s neck.
‘I should ask you the same. I admit using my powers drained me more than I had expected but you definitely overexerted yourself,’ Sylvie chided, extending her large wings to slow our descent.
My groan was swept away by the rushing wind. I know. It seems I have a ways to go if I want to actually go head-to-head with a Scythe.
‘We’re both young; time is a luxury that we are fortunate to have. We just need to remain careful and not do anything rash… like trying to go up against a retainer alone.’
I promise not to let that happen again. Besides, you saved the day there at the end, I said comfortingly, patting her scaled neck.
My bond didn’t reply, responding instead with a wave of frustration and helplessness. I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t have to. She knew how I felt.
We landed on the unsettled land just above the border to the Kingdom of Darv. The once-damp soil of the forest had turned dry and hard, with cracks lining every inch. The trade route that the dwarves and humans used to exchange their goods was near the eastern corner of Darv, by the Grand Mountains, so there were no visible roads this far out toward the coast.
“It’s still cold,” I grumbled as my cloak billowed in the wind.
‘You should grow scales like me,’ Sylvie joked as she lowered her body to let me down.
“I’m just glad I’m still able to muster up enough mana to keep from freezing.” I raised my leg and brought it around my bond’s neck, but as soon as my legs touched the ground, a sharp pain coursed through my entire lower body and sent me crumbling into the dirt.
‘The injuries in your legs aren’t getting better.’ Sylvie’s voice was wrapped in concern and guilt, as if she were the one responsible for my pain. ‘Maybe it’d be best if you keep riding me.’
“No,” I gasped, willing more mana into my legs as a temporary solution. “If my suspicions are correct, we’re going to need to lay low, and we’ve already taken a risk of being exposed by riding this far down.”
‘Very well.’ Sylvie’s large body began glowing as she shifted back into her fox-like form. Rather than riding on top of me like usual, she trotted beside me.
“Looks like Lady Myre’s prediction was right,” I said, taking careful steps. “Even after being healed with the vivum aether art, my lower body feels like it did when I was a newborn.”
‘Grandmother’s control and knowledge of aether in the vivum path is much greater than mine. Maybe if she was here…’ Another wave of guilt washed over me from my bond as her pointed ears drooped.
Stop sulking, I chided, picking up the pace as we ventured into the dwarven territory. Your grandmother’s warning was rather vague, but I think, with some rest, that my assimilated body will begin to heal itself. I should be fine.
I chose my words with care, trying to hide my lack of confidence, but it was obvious that my emotions had leaked into her. The explosion of mana inside each of my muscles was so intense, I should have been thankful I was even able to walk, but I couldn’t help but be frustrated at how weak I was. Using Burst Step, three times no less, had left me with shattered bones and shredded muscles, which would have been almost irreparable if not for Sylvie. I winced at the mere thought of my mother’s expression if she were to see the state I was in… would she—or any emitter—have been able to heal me?
Swallowing down the dispiriting thoughts, I surveyed the area. Ahead of me was a vast expanse of varying shades of brown and yellow. The scant plant life scattered around consisted of either broken branches and shrubs, carried by the wind from the forest, or weeds sprouting from the cracks on the ground. I made note of the large boulders spread about, in case we needed to hide or take cover from the harsh winds, but there were no signs of activity.
