Transcendence, page 4
part #6 of The Beginning After The End Series
My father placed a consoling hand on my mother’s back as she shuddered.
“I didn’t know that either, at the time; it hadn’t been that long since I had awakened and I’d never fully trained in the different aspects of healing. I didn’t think I needed to.” Wiping away her tears, she looked up at me with red eyes. “I closed everyone’s wounds, but the venom from the stingers’ tails had infected the flesh below. Everyone else, including your father, was able to get treated in time, before it could do any serious harm, but Lensa’s wound was close to her mana core, and, although I closed her wounds, the venom spread.”
I drew in a breath sharply. “Then…”
“Yes. Her mana core got infected to the point where she could no longer practice mana manipulation. I had robbed my friend and teammate of the one true joy in her life.”
“At least she survived,” I said, trying to comfort her, but she shook her head.
“She went off into a dungeon by herself and never came back out,” my mother said. “She had always said she wanted to die gloriously in battle, but she went into a high-risk dungeon knowing she couldn’t use magic. She wanted to get herself killed. And you know what the funny part is?” My mother looked up, trying to keep the tears from falling as she laughed bitterly. “If I hadn’t closed the wound, the doctor would’ve been able to extract the poison easily. She probably would have been fine if I hadn’t healed her.”
I opened my mouth, hoping words would form, but none did. My father remained silent as well, his hand still gently stroking my mother’s back.
After a few minutes, my mother composed herself. “I’ve been scared to properly use magic for anything more than minor injuries since then. When we were attacked on our way to Xyrus, I was barely able to bring myself to heal your father. But after you told us about your… secret and went off to train, while we were holed up in that cave, Elder Rinia helped me. I doubt Adam’s death was a sign, but after everything the Twin Horns have done for your father and me, I think it’s time for us to be there for them.”
The resolution in my mother’s eyes made it clear that she wasn’t saying this to gain my approval.
“That’s not the only reason though,” my father said in a hushed tone. “Now that you’re back, it’s been killing me to think about you fighting in the war while we’re here, safely twiddling our thumbs and waiting for good news.”
“But what if something happens to either of you? What will happen to Ellie?” I argued, still uneasy about them going into battle. “You could…” I cut off, unable to finish that thought out loud.
“The same goes for you, Arthur. No matter how strong you are, death rarely comes from just weakness; it sneaks up when your guard is down. I’ll protect your mother, and you can bet that our goal in this war will be to make it out in one piece and come back to you and your sister, but you have to do the same.” My father paused for a second as his gaze hardened. “We may not have raised you as we thought we had, with your past-life memories and all, but you can be damn sure that Ellie sees you as her loving brother, so don’t be too eager to sacrifice yourself for some vague ‘greater good.’ You need to come out of this war safely. Even if we lose this war, there will always be a chance to fight back. You only truly lose when you die, because there are no second chances after that.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Well…”
“You know what I mean!” my father snapped, eliciting a faint smile from my mother.
Just then, a hurried knock drew our attention to the door. After trading glances with my parents, I said, “It’s open.”
The wooden door swung open to reveal Virion, still in the black robe he had worn for our meeting with the Vritra. “Boy, have you heard?”
“Commander Virion!” My parents bolted up from their seats.
“Please. Just ‘Virion’ is fine for Arthur’s parents,” he replied with a quick wave of his hand.
“The attack?” I guessed, judging by his perturbed expression.
“Good, you have then.” Virion nodded. “And have you told your parents?”
“My parents were the ones who told me.”
Virion’s brows rose in mild surprise, but he merely shook his head as he regarded my parents. “Then you must’ve heard what happened to your ex-party member.”
My father responded with a solemn nod.
“You have my deepest condolences,” the commander said somberly. “Some of the soldiers who were there have just arrived at the castle. I came to get Arthur, but I’m positive that at least the leader of the Twin Horns is here. Would you like to come with us?”
I sent Sylvie a quick transmission telling her we were going to be on the lower floor and that she should stay with Ellie, and the four of us hurried to the teleportation room.
The towering iron doors that protected the teleportation room had been left open. Soldiers, exhausted from battle, stumbled out of the glowing gate in the center of the chamber. Some still had their weapons drawn and bloody.
Guards lined the walls in case anyone other than Dicathen soldiers made their way through the portal, and handmaids and nurses waited with fresh gauze and vials of antiseptics and ointment to treat the badly injured soldiers as they were led or carried away on stretchers.
I spotted Helen first and nudged my parents, pointing in her direction.
Needless to say, the leader of the Twin Horns was in a miserable state. Her metal chest guard was cracked, and only a fragment of her shoulder brace was still attached to her. The leather armor that protected the rest of her body had gashes all over it, lined with dried blood, but her expression wasn’t one of weariness or pain. There was a raging tempest in her eyes as she walked down the platform, her broken bow still in hand.
“Helen!” my father called out. My parents immediately rushed toward Helen. Her expression softened at the sight of my parents, and she returned their embrace.
I left Virion, who was still anxiously waiting for Tess to walk through the portal, and made my way toward Helen.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” I said, giving her a gentle hug. “I’m sorry for what happened to Adam… If only I had stayed down there with you—”
“Don’t,” Helen stopped me. “No good ever comes of thinking like that. What happened, happened. The best thing to do is focus on how we’ll make those damn Alacryans and their mutant pets pay.”
“What you have to focus on right now is resting,” my mother said. “Come, we’ll have a nurse look at you.”
Helen insisted she was okay but let my mother guide her out of the portal room, following the trail of wounded soldiers headed toward the medical wing, my father trailing closely behind them. I wondered when they would tell Helen about their plans to re-join the Twin Horns, but I stayed near the teleportation platform, waiting for Tess to come back.
The soldiers who escaped had managed to reach one of the hidden teleportation gates within the Beast Glades, but they hadn’t had time for a headcount. It was possible that the horde of mana beasts could still ambush them outside the dungeon. Each minute that passed by without Tess showing up made me worry even more.
It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity passed as I watched the unfamiliar faces stagger out of the teleportation gate. Finally, a familiar face popped out of the portal—it was the boy named Stannard.
He had a few scuffs on his tunic and pants, and his face was smeared with dirt, but there was no blood on him. I took that as a positive sign.
I didn’t hesitate; I dashed over to him, pulling him aside the instant he stepped out of the gate.
“Whoa! What giv—”
“Where’s Tessia? Was she with you?” I bombarded him with questions, gripping his arm tightly.
“Arthur Leywin?” A twinge crossed his face. “Ouch. Your grip is a bit tight.”
I immediately let go, my gaze darting from Stannard to the teleportation gate just in case Tess came out.
“Sorry, Stannard. I heard about the ambush in the dungeon. Where’s the rest of your team?” I asked impatiently, forced to raise my voice over the increasing noise of groaning soldiers, shouted orders, and hurried conversations as friends and comrades found each other in the chaos.
“Th-They should’ve been behind me,” he replied, looking back. “It was too crazy. We had to keep running in case they chased after us.”
Stannard was shivering and his knees buckled. I let him lean against me and helped him to the side of the room, where he could sit and lean against the wall.
Looking at everyone’s state, I realized that Helen had clearly understated the severity of the ambush. As I peered over the crowd of soldiers, I spotted the rest of Tess’s teammates.
The girl named Caria was carrying Darvus, the boy I had dueled against, on her back, despite her own multiple wounds. His feet dragged on the ground because of their difference in height. Her curly brown hair was tangled and caked with blood at the ends, and her leather armor was tattered beyond repair.
Rushing to them, I lifted the unconscious augmenter from Caria’s back and carried him myself, which seemed to surprise her. She thanked me, sounding exhausted, as I guided her to Stannard.
When I put Darvus down, he stirred awake with a pained groan. He tried to focus on me from under his wild hair, and as soon as he realized who he was staring at, his glazed eyes narrowed. “You… because of that bloody technique of yours, I couldn’t muster up any mana to fight!”
Despite his anger, his voice came out hoarse and weak.
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
Darvus sank back against the wall before falling back into unconsciousness, joining the sleeping Stannard.
I snagged a pitcher of water from a passing handmaid and gave it to Caria. She immediately raised the glass pitcher to her lips, sloshing water down her front as she clumsily gulped down the entire contents before passing the empty container back to me. She slumped down next to Darvus, clearly spent.
“Caria.” I gently shook her shoulder to keep her from falling asleep. “I need to know what happened to Tessia.”
Caria’s eyes were already half-closed. She seemed about to speak when, instead, her lips curled into a grin and she pointed behind me wordlessly.
Confused, I looked over my shoulder. Hobbling out of the portal—dirty, her clothes tattered, hair in disarray, armor dented and cracked, but alive and in one piece—was Tessia.
Chapter 5
Numbers Behind Age
TESSIA ERALITH
I stepped through the teleportation gate and onto a platform, feeling weary and frustrated. I could’ve helped back there, but they wouldn’t let me. The soldiers who stayed behind to fight had all echoed the same words—that I needed to go; my safety was the priority.
What the hell was the point of training so damn hard if everyone treated me like some glass sculpture?
I let out a deep breath, hoping to expel the frustration from my system, but all it did was remind me of how thirsty I was. I looked around the crowd of soldiers, guards, and nurses for anyone with the water I needed to quench my parched throat. Then I caught sight of my teammates.
Stannard and Darvus were asleep against the wall. Caria was sitting up, speaking to someone, and then she pointed at me. The man she had been talking to turned his head.
My chest tightened as he stood up from his crouching position. His furrowed brows and the sharp gaze with which he regarded his surroundings instantly relaxed as he locked eyes with me.
It was Art.
I stared mindlessly as he walked towards me. The first time I had seen him, two years ago, he had been covered in blood and grime, looking somewhat like a monster himself. However, the Art approaching me now looked like a completely different person. Dressed in a sharp white tunic which was trimmed luxuriously with gold, and a long black mantle that seemed to shroud him in mystery, he exuded a sort of grand aura that belittled every royal family in Dicathen. His long hair was bound up, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw. His auburn bangs fell messily over his forehead and past his azure eyes, which crinkled with his breathtaking smile.
He was almost upon me before I snapped out of my daze. There were soldiers and guards nearby that I had to keep my composure around. It had barely been a day since the last time I’d seen Art, and judging by his demeanor then, I was sure he disliked emotional reunions in public.
With a hoarse cough, I tried to stand taller, puffing myself up to muster as much poise and dignity as I could, despite my unkempt appearance.
I stuck my hand out for him to shake, keeping my expression stoic. “Good to see you so soon, Arth—”
But my gesture was ignored. His powerful hand wove underneath my arm, landing firmly on my back as he pulled me toward him. I stumbled forward at the sudden force and my face pressed against his thin tunic, bathing me in his warmth.
I stood motionless in his embrace. I’d been approached, pursued, and courted by almost every man brave enough to look past my lineage, and the only things I’d ever felt for them were pity and annoyance. But now my body felt as if it had been both frozen and melted at the same time.
Whether the entire room had fallen silent or my sense of hearing had just disappeared, I couldn’t tell, but my other senses had become overwhelmed. Within the safe haven of his sturdy arms, a faint hint of oak and a crisp ocean breeze filled my nose as I felt him bury his face into my neck.
My limbs remained frozen, but my empty stomach fluttered uncontrollably when Art’s arm squeezed just a fraction tighter.
Art finally spoke. “I’m glad you’re okay.” His warm breath blew against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. My arms twitched, instinctively wanting to hug him back, but the piercing stares I felt from everyone around us made me stop.
“Of course I’m okay,” I said, somehow mustering up the strength to push him away despite every fiber in my body urging me to pull him closer. I could feel blood rushing all the way up my neck to the very top of my head as I stared at Art, his face just inches away from my own.
I could see his eyes moving, tracing every feature of my face as he studied me. Taking a deep breath, as if a large weight had been lifted, he looked at me with a gentle smile. “Come on. I’ll take you to your grandfather.”
It felt as though I was swimming in some sort of thick, viscous liquid in my head. The world around me blurred with muffled conversations and shadows of people I couldn’t quite make out. My body seemed to move on its own, acting and responding on instinct as my mind kept replaying my arrival at the castle. Now that I was just remembering it, I started analyzing every action and inaction of the scene, trying to put meaning into each thing Art had done—the firmness yet tenderness of his hug, the desperation and relief that had poured out of him when his eyes locked onto mine.
I replayed the scene over and over again in my head, nitpicking every little detail. However, the conclusion I reached every time was the same. I hated how composed he was every time we met. And, after all of this time, I hated how weak and helpless I still felt around him.
I wasn’t able to see much of Art after our initial reunion at the castle. I was swept away and escorted to my room by a team of nurses as soon as my grandfather had released me from his embrace. After checking to make sure my teammates had been tended to, I plopped gingerly into my bed, finding comfort in the fact that my simply furnished room was exactly as I had left it.
While the nurses removed my armor and wiped me down with scented towels, I felt my body sinking deeper and deeper into the sheets until the world faded to darkness.
“—should tell her, Virion.” Art’s familiar voice pulled me out of my slumber. Rubbing my eyes, I squinted at the morning sun just barely peeking above the layer of clouds below us.
I took a second to assess the situation, then a frightening thought struck me. I immediately peeked underneath my covers, giving a sigh of relief to find myself clothed.
“She’s going to find out eventually. You can’t hide something like this from her; it’s impossible.” Art’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. He spoke in a hushed tone but his words rang clearly in my ears.
“It’s fine if she finds out later, but she’s not ready for this. Now shush! What if she hears?” my grandfather whispered back.
“She’ll listen to you if you respect her enough to tell her. If she finds out from anyone else, what do you think she’s going to do?” Art argued back, his voice growing sharper.
“Damn you, boy. What if she decides to go? Then what?”
“We’ll figure it out after we hear her response. Virion, you and I both know what your granddaughter is capable of once she puts her mind to something.”
“I know,” my grandfather snapped back. “I just can’t… those Vritra bastards murdered Cynthia right here in this castle, Arthur! What if…”
I couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation over the sound of my heart, which was beating louder and louder. Master Cynthia is dead? That’s impossible, right?
Master Cynthia had always been leagues above anyone I knew in terms of magical abilities. Her expertise in mana manipulation was on par with—maybe even above—Grandpa’s. She had taught me everything from basic control to advanced execution of spells while sword fighting. There’s no way she could be killed by Vritra thugs. I tried convincing myself of this, but my hands trembled as I gripped my blanket.
I sat up in bed, wiping away a stray tear that had managed to escape, and waited for them to come in.
I answered immediately when they knocked on the door. Dressed simply in a grey tunic and black pants with his hair tied up into a knot, Art came in first. He was followed by my grandfather, who was wearing the same black robe he had been wearing yesterday.
