Chapter 430: Father (End of web novel book 2...ish. More like book 5 now, lol)

The blizzard had lifted by the time Alex and Claygon stepped outside into the cold night air.

But the storm had done its work.

Snow drifts rose high in the castle’s courtyard, laying thick on every roof and capping the inner wall in a rampart of white. They covered the signs of battle, hiding them, making it seem—for one irrational moment—that it had been done on purpose to hide their shame. It was as if the world was concealing something ugly, washing it in white paint to hide that it ever was.

An image of Mrs. Lu hastily sweeping dirt under a bearskin rug before guests arrived came back to him. It had always been a fond memory, especially when Mr. Lu brought it up to his wife, but Alex now found it disturbing, realising how much it had in common with the snow sweeping over the tragedy that had just befallen the castle.

‘How many more times are sights like this going to be a part of my life?’ Alex thought, his boots crunching on heavy snow as Claygon ploughed along beside him.

His boot caught something hard buried in a drift and he stumbled, almost falling.

A crushed spear-fly corpse lay beneath the snow, probably one of many. Gingerly, he picked it up by its crumpled wings, looking at a nearby hill—one of the few formed not by fallen snow, but by the hands of the Generasians.

Ravener-spawn were piled high—high enough to tower over even the castle walls—and more were still being carted over, adding to the growing pile. Beside the gruesome sight, wizards were gathering and cataloguing specimens, preparing them for the scalpel and the autopsy table.

As Alex strode to the foot of the grisly pile and tossed away the spear-fly, he hoped that the bodies would provide some new insights into their anatomy, tactics, and maybe even clues to help defeat them permanently.

“It’s the least you could do.” He spit on a dead bone-charger before he and Clagyon turned away. Alex wasn’t the first to spit on the slain invaders’ bodies.

And he was sure he wouldn’t be the last.

He trudged through snow drifts, contemplating the battle: the successes, the failures, and what they should do to prepare for the next—and there was no doubt there’d be a next. “I need that staff,” he whispered, breath misting in the cold, rising toward the grey clouds. His eyes turned to a spot where a vast hole had been; it was now back filled by earth magic, and covered in a layer of fresh, white powder. It was the hole from which two monsters—who’d almost cost him everything—had climbed. “That behemoth and hive-as-one came out of that hole almost right on top of me.”

He touched his side, rubbing his skin, remembering the numbing cold of the hive-as-one’s magic as it withered his strength. “They came at me and I didn’t have a quick enough response. My potions are good, but with the wind blowing so hard, they were mostly useless. I need another way to react faster: the potions aren’t enough.”

His frown deepened the more he thought about the attack. “I use a lot of protective spells, but I need stronger ones. Greater force armour is a must, and as soon as I get to fourth-tier spells, I’ve got to learn an invisibility spell.”

His fingers raked his short beard. “Maybe some more illusion spells in general. Next semester I’ll be learning more blood magic…if I can build Corpse Puppet into my staff, I’ll be able to pull that out in a fight. Better to turn dead enemies into fighters than be overwhelmed by live ones. Same with Warp Flesh…”

He remembered beams of light firing from his invisible enemy, freezing people in place and holding them so it could sweep them with its petrifying ray.

He remembered the paralysed face of Watcher Shaw, frozen in a snarl of defiance before he turned to stone. Alex winced at the memory: he hadn’t known the Watcher captain well, but he was a fierce leader and a great tactician who’d seen them through some bad situations.

If it weren’t for him, Alex was sure that a lot more people would have died.

‘Rest in peace,’ he thought, looking at the spot where the Watcher had taken his last breath. ‘I hate to admit it, but that paralysing ray was very effective. I need to find out if there’s a spell that does the same thing, something that I could use against really tough threats…especially fast ones. I also need a way to make invisible things detectable.’

He thought back to his team fighting invisible adversaries in the Games of Roal. Back then, he’d sort of ‘cheated’ using the Mark and sending forceballs to where he thought enemies were.

Then—when the Mark prevented him from doing anything it considered combat—he was still able to tell his team where their opponents were.

‘But that’d be too dangerous in a true battle,’ he thought. ‘The invisible monster was fast. Really fast and if I was doing something the Mark didn’t like and it interfered, I’d be stone dust right now. No, I need to think of something else. Some way to mark invisible enemies. If I don’t, something’s going to get me one day. I can’t just keep relying on Claygon’s power.”

Alex looked at his golem: the giant, silent guardian. Always there. Always quiet. Always reliable.

That was something the young wizard had started to take for granted, and one day it was going to cost them both dearly.

“You’re always protecting me,” he said. “But…I haven’t been doing enough to protect you.”

Pain marked his eyes as they ran across the white marble of his golem’s form when he recalled the cracks that had cut into him.

“That’s twice now that you’ve been hurt badly: once by the war-spear and now by the sonic scream from that Ravener-spawn,” he said. “You know, it's only because your body was clay—not stone—that you didn’t shatter. That one difference in your composition saved you. But after you evolved…I dunno what made you immune to that scream, but whatever it was, I’m thanking the Traveller for it. Maybe you absorbed some of that thing’s magic. It’s something we really gotta explore together.”

They were nearing the aeld tree, passing by expedition members on clean up duty: defenders loading the last of the enemy bodies, earth mages searching for Ravener-spawn holes, and other wizards casting spells that renewed shattered stone.

He exhaled, his eyes stinging.

Claygon could have shattered, just like those stones. He rubbed his eyes, and turned away from what could have been, feeling grateful that it hadn’t happened.

Ahead, the aeld tree’s leaves fluttered in the wintery landscape.

Alex cocked his head, examining it from base to crown.

Its light brought warmth and comfort and…satisfaction?

He raised an eyebrow.

“Are…are you feeling proud of yourself?” Alex laughed. “I’m kinda getting a little bit of satisfaction coming off of you.”

That self-satisfaction seemed to heighten at his words, he could imagine the little tree puffing up its chest, if it had one.

“Yeah, that’s definitely what I’m getting from you,” he said, touching its bark. His hand rubbed the tree trunk, drinking in the magical sapling’s warmth. “And, you know what? I think you should be proud of yourself.”

He gestured around the courtyard.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you helping us out. I know the courtyard was slippery and all, but those bone-chargers were falling over like drunks after a night in the Bear’s Bowl Tavern. Or like Khalik and Thundar after exams.” He chuckled. “You bring fortune to those who take care of you, right? Well, we definitely had some fortune today. Between Gwyllain noticing what was going on and bringing the Heroes—I gotta ask what that’s about—and that invisible thing falling over…yeah, we definitely had luck and good fortune on our side.”

Alex pat the tree trunk. “I’m grateful for that and I’m going to try and get the best fae and wizard-made fertiliser that I can and drench your roots in it until you’re taller than the keep.”

There was a happy little pulse from the tree which felt like a tickle to Alex’s soul. He, like the tree, was filled with a contented warmth.

“Alright, you’ll take care of me and I’ll take care of you. But for right now…thanks. Thanks for what you’ve done. We’re all really lucky—”

A voice cut him off, one that was calling out from behind him. “Alexander!”

He turned, finding the small form of Gwyllain ploughing, leaping and tunnelling his way through the drifts. Despite the cold and lack of warm clothing in the cold night air, the asrai showed no sign of shuddering as he made his way to the wizard.

“You’re taking care of the aeld very well.” His large eyes fell on the tree. “I could tell how it feels from halfway back to the keep.”

“Yeah, I hope it’s happy,” Alex said. “It feels strange, in a way. Everyone else is either grieving, thinking or strategizing.”

“Aye, that’s what they’re doing up there alright,” Gwyllain nodded to a window in the keep. “And it’s aaaall a little too big for me. Too much excitement, I think. I asked to be excused because…I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised to see you,” Alex laughed. “I thought you said you’d be avoiding me until I was a hundred or something? Or maybe even older.”

“Well, it felt bad to be just letting you and yours get eaten by Ravener-spawn,” he said. “Just didn’t feel right to me.”

Alex watched him closely.

He looked away as he spoke…he was hiding something.

The Thameish wizard nodded his head. “Well, I appreciate what you’ve done…even if that meant putting yourself in danger. Do you want something from me?”

Gwyllain flinched slightly.

Just slightly.

“No! Of course not, don’t want anything now,” he said.

‘Now,’ Alex thought. ‘He’ll probably come looking for a favour later. Best to watch my words with him.’

“Well, even if you don’t want anything now, you should at least stay for the evening. Get something to eat. I’ll give you some wine. You deserve it for what you did for us.”

“Aye, I’ll take you up on that.” The asrai smiled. “Only had human wine a couple of times. And it was old.”

“Sometimes it’s better when it’s old,” Alex pointed out.

“Not the stuff I got my hands on, it tasted like bog water,” he grimaced. “But, wine will have to wait. First, I’ve got to go down and tell the blue caps what’s happened. No doubt, they’re still hopping mad at all the churning and smashing that went on. So, I’d better let them know it wasn’t you mortals’ fault.”

“We’d all appreciate that,” Alex said. “Wouldn’t want them to be upset with us.”

“Oh, but before I go…” Gwyllain looked around, his eyes scanning the moonlit snow, making sure no one was near. Then he waved to Alex. “Lean down here.”

The tall young man frowned, crouching in the snowdrift. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

“Beware the fellow that brought me.”

“What fello—Oh you mean the Gu—”

“Shhhh!” Gwyllain hissed. “Don’t say the name. Some fae’ve got a bad habit of…putting lures in their names. Makin’ ‘em all sticky-like and letting them know when their name’s been spoken. Not sure if he’s one, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Alex recalled the predatory aura coming from the stocky fae. He glanced up at the keep. “Okay…won’t say his name unless I have to.”

“He’s got many,” Gwyllain whispered. “And he’s a nasty one. Dark rumours about him. And they say he doesn’t play too gently with mortals.”

“What kind of rumours?”

“Best not to speak of it much more,” the asrai whispered. “I gave my warning and now I’d best be off. I’ll see you when it’s time to eat.”

With that, the asrai bobbed his head in a short bow, took a step into the snow and vanished.

Alex looked at where the little fae had just stood. “By the Traveller, I’ve got to learn to disappear like that.”

Rising to his full height and sighing, he considered the asrai’s warning. “Enemies…potential dangers…they just keep multiplying. And, Baelin’ll be taking me into a demonic abyss soon. I’ve got enough things to think about. I’ll just tell Baelin what Gwyllain said and be done with it.”

He exhaled, his breath drifted away like fog.

The road ahead would be rougher.

His first semester of second year had ended with darkness, blood and chaos.

…but also with some good.

He looked at the evolved Claygon standing beside the aeld tree, head facing the sapling. The sight brought a smile to Alex’s face. His golem and the young tree seemed to like each other: he could feel curiosity emanating from the sapling along with a welcoming warmth.

Alex chuckled. “You must be thinking that Claygon looks different. Well, he’s still the same…he’s just gone through a couple of upgrades. That’s the thing, you’ll find a lot of things around you change, just like the castle over there.” He gestured to the keep and stone walls. “The land’s changed but in many ways, it stayed the same. Hmmm…you know what, maybe I’ll leave you two to chat for a while. Or whatever you do to communicate.”

He looked at his golem. “I’ll be back to pick you up in a bit, my friend. Just enjoy your time.”

Putting thoughts of dark times from his mind, Alexander Roth began his trek back to the keep. The road ahead might be a dark one, but he would be ready for it, no matter what dangers it held, be they demons, Ravener-spawn, or fae.

He had his spells.

He had his friends.

And, he even had the Mark.

With hope, that would be—

“Father.”

Alex nearly jumped a foot in the air, letting out a scream that sounded like it should have come from Selina. He looked around for the source of the voice. Was that Gwyllain pulling a prank?

It sounded like it had come from right on top of—

“Over…here…father.”

Alexander Roth froze dead in his tracks.

The voice had not come from on top of him.

It had come from inside his head, and behind him.

Slowly, he turned, his eyes falling on Claygon.

His golem was looking straight at him.

And in his mind, he could hear the nervous, tentative voice tinged with all of its trepidation.

All of its longing.

And he knew—without a doubt—whose voice it was.

“Hello…father,” Claygon gently whispered in his mind.