Chapter 483: What Was Lost

Chapter 483: What Was Lost

ARTHUR LEYWIN

“Hello, Arthur.”

The voice drifted to me through a haze—distant and ethereal, but familiar. I was drowsing, nestled deep within a cozy blanket of thoughtless fatigue. There was something exciting about the familiar voice, but that alone wasn’t enough to draw me out of my metaphorical nest. As this thought pierced the fog of my sleep, it set a spark to something else, and a burning idea radiated through the fugue.

This fatigue felt wrong. Unnatural, even. Like the sleep had sunk its claws into me and wouldn’t let me go.

Aether bloomed from my core in response to my jolt of discomfort, and the fog boiled away. I sat up suddenly and looked around, half in a panic with no memory of how I’d reached my current location. I was surrounded by bright white stone, molded smoothly into curves and arches.

“Peace, Arthur, peace.”

Turning away from the unusual architecture of the building around me, I instead focused on the elderly woman sitting by my bed. Her wrinkles deepened as she gave me a warm smile, and for a moment, I was fifteen years old again. The panic eased almost as quickly as it had come. I was in bed. Regis, in his puppy form, was lying on top of the blanket at my feet, sleeping deeply. I was safe.

“Lady Myre. It’s been a long time...”

“To me, it seems as if only a short time has passed,” she answered simply.

I considered the difference in our perspectives and wondered at the validity of my own reckoning of time. After all, how much time had passed in the keystone? How many lives had I lived between my last meeting with Myre? By one interpretation, it had been an eternity. From another, though, it was only a few short years. For the first time, I truly glimpsed the alien perspective of asura like Kezess and Agrona, and thought I understood just a little of how they see the passage of time.

“Where am I?”

“Epheotus,” she said. Her eyes flicked to one of the arched windows, and my own gaze followed hers. “More specifically, you’re in the town of Everburn.”

Through the arched window, I could see the buildings across the street. The walls were clean, smooth, white or cream stone that arched up to roofs tiled in turquoise and cyan. Arched windows, mirrors of the one I was looking out of, dotted the fronts, but I could make out little of what was behind them. As I examined the buildings, a mossy green-haired asura strode by, his brows knit in concentration, his mouth moving as he talked under his breath, apparently to himself.

Behind the buildings, the shadow of a massive, distant mountain, little more than a blue silhouette against a blue sky, towered over the city. The mountain had a distinctive split shape.

“One of several dragon towns in the shadow of Mount Geolus, yes,” Myre continued. “I thought this would be more...comfortable, for your family. Than the castle, I mean.”

“Where are Ellie and my mother?”

Although the grandmotherly smile never left her face, Myre’s gaze was intense and watchful. I couldn’t help the feeling that she was reading me like a book. “I felt you waking and sent them on a short errand. Forgive me, Arthur, but I wanted a moment to speak to you alone.”

Frowning, I eased myself up into a sitting position and swung my legs off the bed. I was dressed in silken nightclothes that I didn’t recognize, their glossy white contrasting against the deep-forest green of the bedsheets. “Speak to me? As a guest, or as a prisoner?”

“Do not forget that you yourself requested Windsom bring your family to Epheotus,” she answered, but her tone remained gentle. “You are, as before, my very welcome guest, Arthur.”

I mulled this over as the shattered fragments of my memory continued to slot themselves back into place. “Agrona?”

Myre nodded, her silver-gray hair bobbing around her face. “Imprisoned within Castle Indrath. He and his kinsman, Oludari Vritra, both. But...”

Her hesitance and her nervous expression made my stomach twist. “What is it, Myre?”

Glancing out the window toward Mount Geolus, she leaned forward slightly. “Agrona is mute. Even Kezess has been unsuccessful in driving Agrona to speak. Even his thoughts are shrouded, if there are any. But he feels...wrong. Empty. Arthur, I need to know what happened in that cave.”

I quickly considered what Kezess might already know. Have they been able to take anything from my mind without my knowledge? I wondered darkly. As much as I wanted to trust Myre, I couldn’t trust Kezess, and she was his wife. They had appeared together in the cave, right before I fell unconscious, and she could be operating on his behalf at that very moment.

Carefully activating King’s Gambit, I split my mind into multiple branches, each one focusing on a different layer of truth, potential truth, and outright lie. Aloud, I said, “Using a power the ancient djinn called Fate, an aspect of aether, I was able to destroy the Legacy’s potential by separating it from both the reincarnated version of Cecilia, my old friend from Earth, and from Agrona himself, making it impossible for him to ever utilize its power for himself. There was some kind of...shockwave from the act. Perhaps it did something to his mind.”

Again, that piercing look. “You have learned to control this...Fate, then?”

“No,” I said, letting my eyes fall and my voice fill with regret. The disparate branches of my thoughts were layered over one another, all thinking the same thing. “It was not something I could use, only...influence. And even then, only in the moments after I’d solved the keystone. The power is not something that can be controlled.”

I didn’t know if I spoke the truth or not, really, but I kept the thread of that thought buried beneath several others. With the aspect of Fate’s presence and assistance, I had been able to directly alter those threads in a way I didn’t fully understand, but there had been no time to examine my agreement with Fate or the keystone’s aftermath. I didn’t yet know what those events may have unlocked within me. My only concern right now was that Kezess not learn everything I knew—neither about Fate nor about the dragons’ repeated genocides.

“Ah, well, perhaps that is for the best,” Myre said, giving no outward indication that she doubted what I said or even that she could read the several interwoven branches of my thoughts. “Such things are better not tampered with.” With a little shake of her head, she refocused on me, and her smile returned. “You’ll be wanting to know more about what’s happened, of course. All the dragons have been recalled to Epheotus, and the rift has been closed again. Whatever Agrona hoped to accomplish by taking it over, he has failed.”

I frowned, focusing on one small detail. “My understanding was that Epheotus would die if the rift was closed.”

“The connection remains,” Myre explained patiently, “but the portal is shut. It would take aetheric knowledge beyond any yet alive—even you, Arthur—to cut the tether that binds Epheotus to your world.”

Which is what the rebel djinn hoped to use Fate to accomplish. I’d seen the possibility in my own searching, with Fate at my side, through potential futures. But to do so would be an act of genocide just as horrible as what the dragons themselves had done. Perhaps I would if there was no other way to prevent Kezess from repeating history, but even then I didn’t know if I could condemn all of asuran-kind to slowly waste away as Epheotus dissolved around them.

“I see,” I said after a moment, releasing King’s Gambit. “I shouldn’t stay long, then. I don’t mean to be rude, Lady Myre, but I’d like to speak to my family.”

“I’d like to see her.” Not waiting for a response, I stood and strode past Mom and Ellie, pushing aside the curtain and moving through the door in a single motion.

The large living area beyond was airy and full of light. The tall, curved ceilings and arched doors and windows were distinct from any architectural style I’d seen utilized in Dicathen or Alacrya. The walls were of a smooth white stone that was unmarked by tools. Blues, greens, and yellows stood out against the white in the forms of rugs, wall hangings, bright crystals that shed light into the darker corners, and blooming flowers that filled the space not only with color but also a bouquet of sweet smells.

Sensing Tessia’s mana signature shining brightly from her now white stage core, I navigated around a small table that had been grown from a single piece of wood toward another room, also divided from the rest of the house by a curtain. Pausing for a heartbeat before pushing the curtain aside, I considered just what Tessia would be facing when she finally woke.

She’d been a prisoner in her own body since before the destruction of Elenoir. She’d watched Cecilia become a weapon for Agrona, helpless to intervene. She’d learned the truth about me and my past life, but also had certainly been subjected to all kinds of lies as well. As much as I was still conflicted about what any kind of relationship might look like, what would Tessia feel?

The memory of our exchange at the Wall had been replaying in the background of my thoughts on repeat.

“I love you.” Even now, I almost couldn’t believe I’d told her. It was so complicated, with my previous life memories still a secret, and the fear that she would react like my parents, or even worse, was potent.

“I love you too, idiot. But we’re at war. We both have responsibilities, and people that need us.” Her voice had been a solemn whisper and her eyes full of tears, but her lips had twitched with an uncertain smile as we teased each other to break the tension.

I know. And I have things I want to tell you, so how about we make a promise?”

“What sort of promise?”

“A promise to stay alive—so that we can have a future together, a relationship... a family.”

“I promise.”

It seemed unbelievable to me now that I’d been brave and hopeful enough to make such a promise. I had experienced so much since then, had so many close calls, seen the truth of power in this world...

Now, it felt like a fool's promise. Desperate and blind and wild with hope.

My hand pressed into the glossy fabric of the curtain, pushing it aside.

In a small room nearly identical to the one I’d woken up in, Tess lay in a similar bed with the same thick, emerald-green blankets, although hers had been half kicked off. She was dressed similarly as well, in silky night clothes of white fabric embroidered with green vines, so perfect for her that I suddenly wondered if Myre had ordered them be made just for Tessia.

As I took a step into the room, she stirred slightly. Her gunmetal hair pooled on the pillow around her, and for an instant the image of her that I could see was overlaid with another picture of her, from another life, when we had only just been married and lay in our marital bed together for the first time...

Not real, I reminded myself as blood stained the memory.

I took a second step, and she opened her eyes. I sank into those glassy teal orbs, moving as if in a dream to the edge of her bed. My fingers brushed the surface of her blanket but didn’t touch her. My tongue seemed to grow several times over inside my mouth. I realized distantly that I had forgotten to keep channeling aether into King’s Gambit.

Ellie was beside me then, bending over and crushing Tessia in a fierce hug. “Tess!” she exclaimed.

“E-Ellie?” Over Ellie’s shoulder, I could see Tess staring around in wonder and confusion. “W-what happened? Where am—sky above!” She released Ellie and raised her hands behind my sister, staring at her outstretched fingers. “My body! I’m in control of my body!”

Ellie choked down a sob as she backed off, one hand over her mouth. Mom rested a hand on her shoulder, exerting a light pressure. “Eleanor, we should give them some time.”

Ellie’s mouth opened but no words came out. After a couple of seconds like that, she just nodded and turned away. Mom gave me a look that was half plea, half warning, smiled at Tessia, and then backed out of the room after my sister.

“Arthur...” Tessia breathed, scooching to sit up with her back against the headboard. “Of course. Forgive me, I remember now. We...we were saying goodbye. I thought...” She swallowed heavily and looked down at her clasped hands.

“I was never going to let that happen,” I assured her. The words felt hollow as I spoke them, framed against the backdrop of my multiple battles against Cecilia and my waffling about what to do with the Legacy. It seemed certain that Tessia would have understood my struggle...and my failings.

The ghost of a smile flickered over her features. She was pale, especially around her lips, and a melancholyt had settled into her resting expression that I didn’t remember. Otherwise, she was exactly how I still pictured her in my mind: strong, beautiful, and regal. Although I didn’t mean to, I glanced at her neck, aware of the absence of the cord that should have carried her half of the leaf-heart pendant. My hand rose to my chest, where my own should have rested, but I had lost it in Telmore City after the battle against Nico and Cadell.

She seemed to understand. “It really was beautiful. The pendant, I mean. Well, the moment. The promise. It was all beautiful. Not the way I had thought it all would go, of course. Not then, and certainly not after, but...at least we had that. It was real.”

“It was,” I assured her. My gaze was fixed on the ground. Suddenly I felt her hand grasping for my own. Her fingers entwined within mine. Slowly, I turned to look at her. “I meant everything I said then.”

She was staring at our entwined fingers. Her jaw was tense, her eyes searching, her lips pressed tightly together. It wasn’t the look of someone seeking solace or physical comfort in touch. No, it felt more like she was holding me like an anchor.

“At least I finally understand why you could never reciprocate my affections when we were younger.” The ghost of a smile returned. “To me, you were this...mystical, beautiful fascination. I was infatuated with you before we even made it to Zestier. Having you living there in our home with us—with me—felt like something out of a fairy story.” The line of her gaze slowly drifted up my arm, neck, lips, to finally settle on my own eyes. “But to you...I was just a kid. A silly little girl.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you,” I said quickly, holding eye contact. “I never wanted to lie to you, I just couldn’t...”

“I know,” she said into the lingering silence after I trailed off, words failing me. “There’s nothing you’ve done that I haven’t already forgiven.”

I searched her eyes, the sharp downturn of her brows, the tension in every breath, the stumbling beat of her heart. What does this mean for our promise? I wanted to ask, but I held myself back. It was too much to put on her right then. Demanding an answer from her just to help myself sort out my own emotions would be unfair.

But one thing was clear. Things between us were different than when we’d made our promise, and I didn’t know if we could get back what we’d lost.