Chapter 19-12 The Roads Untrod

Chapter 19-12 The Roads Untrod

We are not certain what the paths are or how they are functionally expressed. All we know is this: of the 62,384,556 attempts that we, Stormtree, Sanctus, and Ashthrone have made on the High Seraphs life, every operation has ended in abject failure with no survivors among the operatives deployed.

Despite the Sleepers we have seeded across Highflames choirs and the personnel we have turned, we remain unable to procure any useful intelligence regarding Veylis Avadaers Heaven. This, in part, is likely because no one within the Chorus knows either. Neither has any Agnos interfaced with Veylis Avadaers Frame for the past four hundred years.

A possibility could be that she has gone without any adjustments all that time, but with the creation of new Heavens and Domains and from what we can judge from simulations of her personality, it is highly unlikely she would foreswear growth in exchange for secrecy.

The greater likelihood is that she herself is trained in the ways of thaumaturgy by virtue of being blood to Jaus Avandaer.

Constructing a simulation from the mem-data we managed to obtain from our fallen assets, the nature of the path seems to mimic the natural world in some fashion, with visual feeds perceiving a rebuilding of space, matter, or place around them. Considering the lack of resonance with any of those Domains, however, it is likely she is tapping a concept into far more esoteric.

Though no operatives have ever managed to return from the paths alive, the High Seraph sometimes sends the bodies of the fallen back to their families or parent Guild. We deduce that this honor is afforded only to those she finds interesting in feat or spirit.

Our attempts at seizing mem-data related to her from Chief Paladin Naeko have also proven to be less than fruitful. The assets we used against him remain metaphysically impotentunable to inflict violence of any kind upon themselves, objects, or other people.

Whatever the case, my summation is thus.

If the council demands it of me, I will do my utmost to prepare, orchestrate, and execute the operation to assassinate Veylis Avanadaer. But my personal recommendation, formed from years of active experience, hard data, and lack of intelligence, is that this is a waste.

A waste of effort. A waste of lives. A waste of materials. A waste of time.

Veylis Avandaer is not a problem we can solve simply by ghosts or blades.

-Mirror-Concave Izu MGrin

19-12

The Roads Untrod

The breeze brushing across the filth-coated stones of the hall whistled at Uthred, the noise shrill like laughter, mocking him for his deed.

It was all he could to avert his eyes. If he looked, something in him knew the High Seraph would have judged him. Failed him for weakness.

He fixed the point of his vision toward the horizon, gaze climbing as building light poured down. Blood was pooling at his feet now. Blood, a shade darker than her hair. Her body was a falsehood, but the hollowness panged inside him, true and deep.

As the unnatural brightness coiled across reality, Uthred Greatling straightened his posture and reviewed the state of his combat-skin. His equipment was ready. His Rend was almost nonexistent. The only question was his spirit, and so he was to show his will once more.

For himself.

For the High Seraph.

A demonstration of worthiness.

My resolve stands, he said, pushing the words out from his lungs. He had no urge to speak, but speak he did, if only to burden his mind with a new focus. He needed to get the High Seraph to respond. Needed to

Why do you assume that I care about your resolve?

The hairs on Uthreds neck stood. Her voice came from below where her body lay, and for the pan of a heartbeat, he thought his mind was betraying him. Then, she rose, rising tall and staring down at him. His body was trapped between two thoughts and lurched as if pulled by conflicting movements; he wished to turn away, but also to strike her down once more.The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.

Her face remained a blank canvas. Her skin, wan like paper, regarded him without any discernable features. No eyes. No nose. No ears. No lips. Not even true complexion. Only her hair spilled out from the skull in threads of color, alternating between red and auburn while bathed in the caress of the light.

A dryness filled Uthred throat as he took a step back.

The thing bearing his wifes contours titled its head at him. Why do you retreat now, Uthred? Have you not cut me down once? Did you not state your resolve remains?

Mustering his strength, he planted his feet and refused to move. The monoblade remained extended, his fingers gripping the hilt tight. I do.

Then why did you kill me? The question sounded so genuine, words of lowest contralto articulated clean and clear. You didnt want to do it. I can feel it. See it in your posture. But you did it anyway. Cut me down. You seem to have strength confused with surrender, my love. Supplication to an outside power is not honor.

Do not spit this poison at me, Uthred growled, mind screaming for him to cleave the creature down once more and ignite the pieces with his Heaven. But his body was reluctant, and from her words grew a seed of despair.

It is true. She knows. Of course she knows. She has been watching you. Do you know? For three days her eyes rested on you, peering at you from the light. Learning who you are now, how you have changed. If you have changed.

And so the High Seraph sends you to test me?

I am not a test, the blank-faced thing said. I am but an echo. A reverberation of your past. A construct formed from alternative possibility. Nothing more. Never to be more. Never to be beyond the reach of her Heaven.

Avo set to work immediately, subsuming minds and deaths. The Waveraider sparked and buckled, unraveling as the Sanguinity spread itself. New knowledge spilled into Avos consciousness alongside the new templates. Lives relived and secrets unveiled. Memories of other barges intercepted and raided greeted him.

Along with how they achieved their ambushes.

Beyond the New Vultun border existed a sea of encampments, mobile settlements of FATELESS amassed, desperate to get into the city. Here sprouted opportunity and predation alike. Smugglers looking to stock their cargo. Scouters seeking potential circuit fighters. Swindlers working the crowds, making what profits they can. And amateur Necros plying their craft, binding secondhand Metas to those with something worth trading.

Releasing mem-cons through the population, letting the invasive memories spread, and giving the Waveriders something to track.

I see, Avo said, breathing as he grinned. Panic pulsed through his newest templates while his attention turned away from the other bodies moving inside the barge. Using a bottleneck

***

I see, the blank-faced thing said. Her voice was empty of judgment, without condemnation nor pity.

You see, Uthred replied. The casualness of her words churned frustration inside him. First, he was taken into this place. Then, he was told to bare himself and make speech of his shame. In return, all he got was this? A casual statement bereft of any substance. No. No, you do not see. Jhred is dead. Abrel is being held by Paladins for what she did in the aftermath. The Paladinsthat bastard Naeko. He refuses me. The other Houses, they spurn us. The Meritocrats, they smell our blood.

Turning away from the imitation of his wife, Uthred swept his surroundings and searched for any sign of the High Seraph, a hint of her person. Is this the admission you seek? A statement of weakness? Of the embarrassment, House Greatling has brought upon you? Upon the Guild?

Nothing. Still nothing. His jaw clenched. He fought to keep his temper controlled.

She cares nothing for shame, the shadow of Lady Greatling said. Stand and deliver. Deeds, Uthred. Deeds above all. Merit through action. Have you forgotten

I have not! The words escaped from Uthred as a shout, the force of his bellow startling even him. A moment of shock followed, and he stepped away from his wifes shadow. I have forgotten nothing. Except for you. Shaking his head, he looked around this placethe place of his greatest triumphbefore returning his gaze to his wife. I have served. I have served beyond faithfully. I have deeds enough. Glory enough. But faded victories are as varnished gold, and so the shadows of present defeat prevail. Jhred was he was always your boy. Your son more than mine. He could not master himself. And I could not spare him my scorn. And so he left. And so he died.

Abrel she is born of us but bears my rage. She loved Jhred deep, and so, whatever happened it must have

Uthred refused to sigh. He held the exhaustion inside himself. What do you wish of me, Great Avandaer? Take her away. I do not deserve this insult. I have given all for Highflame. Do not taunt me with my wifes shadow.

And why do you assume that I am an insult?

You have hair. A voice. But I dont know if its yours. And I have no face to recall when I leave.

And is that something you want? To remember me? To have my banishment unstricken from the records?

Uthred paused.

It is possible. All defeats can be atoned. All blemishes can be smoothed. All shame can be turned to glory. You are in the pathshistory retold. The roads untrod. Where did you wish your life led you? And what do you wish to become of your fate now?

I I wish to wipe away our failings. Achieve redemption Redemption. To prove the worth of our bloodline once more.

The failings of your son, or your daughter?

Uthreds eyes hardened into a glare. Our failings. Ours. I am their father. Their patriarch. The fault is mine to claim.

So you say. the shadow of his wife hummed a shaking laugh, the low melody of voice feeding his ire. You know what is to come soon. The assembly. The trial. More than Highflame will judge you. More than our guild will see your shame.

I know, Uthred said. I will face them. They cannot shake me.

But your daughter can. Are you prepared to abandon her, Authority Greatling? For the greater good of the guild and the name of your house? What price are you willing to pay to show your resolve? To undo your shame?

Coldness rose up his throat. I

What if Ithe voice of Veylis AvandaerHigh Seraph, demanded a sacrifice you are not prepared to give? What then? What will you do then, Authority Greatling.

Uthred closed his eyes and centered himself. ...Would my position do instead? My life?

Then, in an instant, the shadow of his wife went very still. No, it will not.

And then the walls suddenly splashed inwards as existence itself fell like a hammer upon Uthred Greatling.