Transcendence, page 2
part #6 of The Beginning After The End Series
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, running my fingers through my hair. It was long and messy now, past my chin.
The dream had been so vivid. It had felt like I was back on Earth, reliving my previous life.
I lay there, dazed and unable to get out of bed, until someone knocked at my door.
“Come in,” I answered, expecting it to be either my parents or my sister. Instead, the man who entered appeared to be in his late twenties, dressed in black clothes underneath the thin leather armor used by scouts. He dipped his head in a respectful bow before relaying his message.
“Sir, the location for the meeting with the Alacryan messenger has been decided. Commander Virion has asked me to request that you to prepare to meet with the messenger with him and Lord Aldir.”
“Got it. I’ll be out in ten minutes,” I replied, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.
“Shall I send over a maid to help you get ready?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No need.”
“Very well.” The man left after another bow, closing the door behind him.
I quickly washed up and tied my hair back at the crown of my head, leaving my bangs to fall just past my forehead. I dressed in a fine white tunic trimmed with gold to complement the dark mantle I wore over it. Properly clothed, with my hair pulled back neatly, I looked like a very dashing noble. My dream was still fresh in my mind, and it had brought with it a flood of memories from that life. Even the clothes were so very different. The pants in this world were incredibly tight, by comparison—but I had to admit, they offered great mobility and freedom when fighting.
“A dapper appearance for one about to fight in a war,” Virion remarked as I approached him and Aldir.
“Thanks.” I winked, smoothing my sleeve. Aldir’s clothing practically glowed with all the gold and gems decorating it, but Virion wore a simple black robe, as he was still in mourning after Director Cynthia’s murder.
It had only been a few days, but Virion appeared to have aged a century.
By the signature black metal spike that had been found jutting out of Cynthia’s chest, it was obvious that the assassination had been carried out by one who possessed the powers of the Vritra Clan. It was unlikely that an actual clan member had performed the attack—that would have jeopardized the no-asura agreement in the war—but that didn’t mean one of their descendants couldn’t have done it.
The question that ate at my mind—and Virion’s—was how they had done it. According to the guards and the nurse caring for her, nobody had seen anyone leave or enter the floor Director Goodsky had been housed on. The door, which had been closed and locked, hadn’t been tampered with either. Everything remained a mystery except one fact: that somehow, the Vritra Clan was involved.
“The ships are about a day away from our shore, Arthur. Are you ready to meet this representative?” Virion asked.
“I am. But are you ready?” I responded, genuinely concerned. “You’re not going to kill the messenger, right?”
With a faint smile, Tessia’s grandfather shook his head.
Aldir stepped toward the glowing teleportation gate. “Good. Then let us depart.”
Chapter 2
Ultimatum
Memories I thought I had forgotten flashed in my head with every blink, the scenes haunting me in broad daylight as we prepared to make our way to the location we had designated to meet with the messenger.
‘Are you okay, Arthur?’ Sylvie’s concern touched my mind.
I’m fine, Sylv. Though I’m still getting used to the fact that you call me by my name now, I replied, scratching her small ears.
‘Grandfather said it’s important that I uphold the dignity of the dragons.’ My bond held her tiny snout up high, sauntering beside me as we exited the teleportation gate Aldir had conjured. It had brought us to a small clearing on a rise just above a remote fishing town called Slore, more than a dozen miles south of Etistin.
Well, I can’t say you weren’t cuter before, when you called me “Papa.” I smirked.
‘Don’t worry. I still see you as my papa!’ She rubbed her side against my leg while we walked, as if to comfort me. The occasional moist breeze carried with it a strong smell of the sea, and I felt sticky despite the frigid air.
“I still don’t feel right about having this meeting without any backup,” Virion said warily.
“If this messenger has the audacity to act against us, I will have every right to intervene,” Aldir assured the commander, one corner of his mouth twitching up in the barest hint of a smile. Though two of his eyes were closed, the third—a single, vivid purple eye—stared down the path ahead, ever watchful.
“Considering everything the Vritra have done—breeding asura half-bloods, turning our mana beasts into mutants, and now the ships—I can’t imagine how long Agrona has been planning this. Despite the extensive preparation, though, I can’t shake the feeling that this war is just some sort of game to him. The choices he’s made, the risks he’s taken…” Commander Virion trailed off, shaking his head.
“If Agrona were easy to predict, he never would’ve gotten this far,” Aldir acknowledged reluctantly. “Since he, like all the other asuras residing in this world, is prohibited from directly participating in the war, he’s been coming up with ways to work around that by being the almighty hand that moves the chess pieces—at least for his side.”
“And who is the almighty hand moving the pieces for our side?” Virion asked with a raised brow.
“You are the one leading this war, are you not?” Aldir retorted.
Virion shrugged. “That’s what I tell myself at night.”
“All right,” I interrupted. “Is this the meeting place?”
“Of course not,” Virion said with a weary sigh, tying back his long white hair.
“This is the farthest I can take us. From here we’ll travel to our real destination,” Aldir clarified. “It’s in the middle of the ocean.”
“Lead the way,” I said.
Aldir’s feet slowly rose from the ground as a milky aura surrounded both him and Virion. After a moment, the aura lifted Virion into the air as well. Virion’s lips shut tight and he curled in on himself slightly, like a cat picked up by its scruff.
As the two of them picked up speed, rising quickly above the clouds, Sylvie scampered towards the edge of the cliff.
‘Jump!’ Sylvie chirped, then leaped off.
Without a second thought, I followed my bond. As I propelled myself up and over the steep edge, I took a moment to admire the bird’s-eye view of the bustling town directly below me.
Just as I began to fall, Sylvie’s massive figure appeared below, scooping me up from the air with a snap of her powerful wings. I patted the base of her long, black neck as we sped through the clouds.
Sylvie, have you gained weight? I joked.
‘That joke is getting old, you know,’ Sylvie grumbled.
Not to me. I let out a refreshing whoop at the top of my lungs, and it was blown away by the harsh wind slicing against us as we gathered speed.
I spotted the tiny figures of Aldir and Virion ahead of us. Sylvie caught up to them, but stayed a few dozen yards behind Aldir as we surfed along the top of the clouds. This far up in the sky, the only sound was the sharp whistle of air around us, making the journey peaceful despite the purpose of our trip.
As I stared in a daze at the blue and white of our surroundings, my mind wandered back to that day in Epheotus after I had finished my training. The brusque king of the asuras had wanted to see me before I headed back to Dicathen. It was the second encounter I’d had with Lord Indrath, and also the moment I realized who Myre was.
The elderly asura, who had healed me and taught me how to read spells using Realmheart, had been seated next to the stone-faced Lord Indrath, an amused grin on her now-youthful face.
I’d stood there speechless, my mouth ajar, until Lord Indrath beckoned me forward, saying simply, “I’m sure you remember my wife, Myre.”
Needless to say, the meeting hadn’t gone as I had thought it would. For one, Lord Indrath had been much less critical this time compared to the first time we had met; he’d even—barely—acknowledged my improvement, although he had added that if it weren’t for Myre’s help, I would’ve been a lost cause.
Before leaving, Lord Indrath had given me one piece of advice. Oddly, he had activated his aether ability, freezing time for everyone present—even his wife—except for the two of us. I’d stared blankly at the king of the asuras as Myre, Sylvie, and the guards remained static, and he had left me with a cryptic message:
‘It’s wisest to close your heart to the elf princess.’
That was all he had said before withdrawing his powers and having the guards escort Sylvie and me back to Windsom and Wren, who were waiting for us outside.
‘We’re almost here,’ Sylvie announced, snapping me back to the present.
Aldir and Virion had stopped above the clouds, waiting for us to catch up.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this but I will anyway. No one knows how much the Vritra actually know so it’d be wise to keep your true strength hidden during this meeting.” Aldir’s voice tickled uncomfortably in my ear as if he was whispering right next to me.
“What about Sylvie?” I shouted over the sound of the asura’s dragon wings beating at the air.
“Lady Sylvie will have to transform back into her miniature from,” Aldir answered. “I will carry you down, Arthur.”
‘I’ll lay low for now, but I’m not going to stay hidden during the war. If I want to protect you, I’ll do so with you on my back,’ Sylvie declared as she turned into her white fox form.
I began free-falling but Aldir dipped underneath Sylvie and me, wrapping us in the same aura that enveloped Virion.
We descended beneath the layer of clouds below us, plummeting through the blanket of white, the moisture in the air dampening our clothes, until we spotted the shimmering ocean gently rippling in all directions.
Despite the phenomenal view of the never-ending stretch of water, my gaze instantly focused on the dark specks littered across the ocean to my right. A few dozen miles north, I could see the fleet of Alacryan ships heading toward the shore near Etistin City, the capital of Sapin.
‘Look there,’ Sylvie pointed out. Floating on the water below was a pitch-black platform about the size of a small house.
As we descended, moments behind Virion and Aldir, I could make out two small figures. From a distance, they had blended in with the platform they stood on.
A shiver ran down my spine. Every hair on my body stood on end, and I could feel my heart beating faster the closer we drifted toward the platform.
“They’re there,” I said aloud to no one in particular. “But I don’t think they’re ordinary messengers.”
Making a soft landing onto the platform, the three of us walked toward the center, with Sylvie following behind me. My jaws clenched at the sight of the two supposed messengers. By their familiar pale grey skin tone and striking red eyes, I knew they had to be part of the Vritra Clan.
“Welcome to our humble abode,” the taller of the two sneered, his lanky arms spread wide.
Virion narrowed his eyes. “We assumed we’d be meeting with a messenger. That role seems to be beneath both of you.”
“I’m flattered, but at this moment we are mere messengers,” he replied with an exaggerated smile. His companion remained silent.
Examining the two Vritra, despite their ancestry and blood, the two couldn’t be more different. The one on my left stood just a bit taller than me with a ramrod straight posture. He had deep-set eyes underneath heavy lids, giving a mysteriously charming quality to his stern face. With his neatly-cropped head of ash black hair and his tight-fitting black armor underneath a lavish purple cape, the Vritra would have looked like something out of every woman’s dreams if it weren’t for the pair of horns jutting out just above his ears.
The other Vritra—the one who had been talking—stood well over six feet tall, towering over us all despite his hunched posture. His long, thin arms dangled by his sides as if they had popped out of their sockets. This Vritra didn’t wear armor; instead, his body was wrapped completely in thick dark bandages underneath a shabby black mantle that hung from his shoulders. Messy bangs peeked out from underneath his tattered hood, accentuating his peculiar appearance.
This was the first time I had come face-to-face with a Vritra, so I was surprised to see how much smaller the horns of the purple-caped Vritra were compared to the one that had attacked Sylvia in the cave during my childhood. But I couldn’t sense the level of either of these messengers, which could have meant they were purposely hiding their auras, or simply that they were that much stronger than I was.
“I am Cylrit and this is Uto. It is an honor to meet you, Aldir. We retainers have heard much about the famous asuras in Epheotus.” Cylrit’s gaze locked onto Aldir’s as if Virion and I didn’t even exist, but it wasn’t out of respect. “I trust that you will uphold the pact and remain a noncombatant?”
I was surprised at how casually he had mentioned that he was a retainer. That meant he was one of the leading figures in this war who were actually allowed to fight—just beneath the Four Scythes.
“Assuming your side will do the same? Yes,” Aldir answered, his stare just as piercing as Cylrit’s.
“That’s a shame. I wanted to try fighting an asura, but I guess I’ll have to settle for slaughtering a few thousand of you lessers,” Uto spat, glaring at me. The lanky Vritra took a step toward me, craning his neck down with a sneer. “I get why Mr. One-Eye and Grampa Elf are here but I didn’t expect the boy wonder, Arthur Leywin, to grace us with his presence.”
I wasn’t sure how the Vritra had heard of me, but I maintained my cool façade. “I could say the same for you. To what do we owe the pleasure of the retainers showing their faces here?”
“Like Cylrit said, we are here as messengers. We didn’t want to give you the opportunity to capture and torture an innocent messenger for information. Because that’s what I’d do.” Uto’s slanted red eyes peered into mine, searching for signs of fear or anger.
Instead, I returned his provocation with a nonchalant smirk. “I can’t wait to find you on the battlefield.”
He replied with a murderous gaze, his lips spreading into a wicked grin. “Why wait? I love slicing through children’s flesh the most.”
“Uto! Enough,” Cylrit reprimanded him.
“What?” Uto shrugged innocently. “Mr. One-Eye here can’t touch us anyway.”
“Nor would I want to touch any filthy lessurans,” Aldir answered calmly, holding the lanky Vritra’s gaze. “Now. Since we didn’t come here to exchange frivolities, get on with your message and disappear from my sight.”
By the slight twitch in Uto’s brows, I could tell he was annoyed that his attempt at provoking Aldir had backfired. However, before he had the chance to respond, Cylrit stretched out an arm to restrain him.
“The message that His Majesty has tasked me to deliver to the leaders of Dicathen is simply this: Surrender the ruling families and mercy will be given to those who deserve it. Continue resistance and our army will eradicate everyone on this continent without discretion,” Cylrit recited, still looking only at Aldir.
“You call those terms?” Virion burst out. “That’s a one-sided ultimatum!”
Uto bent down to be at eye-level with Virion. “Be thankful you even have the choice. Don’t worry. If you decide on the first option, I promise to be extra gentle when slicing off your head.”
Cylrit stared daggers at his companion. “We weren’t sent here to incite a fight, Uto.”
“That was never my intention, just a friendly warning about the upcoming battle,” the lanky Vritra replied, but then he turned to back to Virion with a perverse grin. “I hope to meet you again, Elf King. You and your granddaughter. I’ll make sure to enjoy myself thoroughly while you watch.”
Disregarding Aldir’s warning, I stepped forward, ready to draw the sword in my dimension ring, but Virion moved first.
In a flash, his fist made contact with Uto’s jaw. Tessia’s grandfather had already activated his second phase, a shroud of black covering his entire body and head, but I could still make out the rage in his eyes.
Uto’s head immediately snapped back at the blow, lifting him off the ground and knocking loose the hood that had been covering his head.
“That kinda tickled,” the lanky Vritra growled, cracking his neck. Uto’s nose jutted out at a weird angle, but my eyes were glued to his horns.
It wasn’t the shape or the size of his horns that stunned me.
No, it was the familiar chip on his left horn. The chip that the Lance, Alea, had made in the battle that cost her her life.
Chapter 3
What War Means For Everyone
The haunting images of Alea’s bloody corpse, her limbs brutally severed and core destroyed, flooded my mind as I stared at the chip in Uto’s left horn.
Any form of inhibition that had kept me from killing the Vritra disappeared as I advanced toward him.
“Was it you?” I asked, my voice dripping with malice.
Sylvie’s concern seeped into my head from behind, but it was no use.
With each step forward, the self-control that had enabled me to remain neutral during this meeting faded. Mana surged from my body like a storm, shocking the Vritra and snapping Virion from his outrage.
“Were you the one who killed Alea?” I took another step.
“What was that, pup?” Uto snapped, his eyebrows furrowed with impatience.
“The Lance in the dungeon who had all her limbs cut off before dying,” I clarified, my voice icy. “Was it you?”
“Ahh,” the Vritra said, his lips curling upward.
Just from the tone of his voice, I already knew the answer. Taunting Virion and using his granddaughter as ammunition was one thing, but the fact that he was the one responsible for Alea’s horrible torture and death now gave gravity to his threats.
