Ryk E. Spoor's Blog, page 40

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 12

Well, between Kaizatenzei and Evanwyl lies an area not nearly so pleasant as either...

 

 

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Chapter 12.

     Tobimar heard the triple twang-twang-twang as Poplock's clockwork crossbow fired. "Behind you!"

Tobimar whirled, silver-green swords out, slashing across the shadow wraith which was already burning white in three places, shattering it to fading shards of night. "Close."

"We're not done!"

Two more shadow wraiths, graverisen affected by the dark powers in Rivendream Pass, had materialized from the dimness beneath the twisted trees – trees that were now ripping their roots free of the soil and bending towards them. One wraith raised a hand and gestured, carving symbols of light in the air. It's a mage! What –

The symbols blazed up, and instantly a roaring sphere of flame streaked towards the little party.

To Tobimar's surprise, it was Rion who acted first. Bracing and focusing on his sword's edge, Kyri's brother cut down and split the attack, both fiery pieces passing harmlessly to either side. Justiciar or no, he's damned good. The skill to cut enchantments isn't something learned easily.

That pause had given Kyri her chance. She charged out from behind her brother, Flamewing carving straight through an outstretched, coiling branch, and bore down on the shadow wraiths. "Myrionar!" she shouted, and the immense sword burst into its own golden flame. The shadow wraiths flowed back, trying to disappear into the gloom, but the fire of Myrionar left precious little to hide in.

By then Tobimar had caught up. He sprang across the remaining distance, focusing his awareness and strength through the swords the Spiritsmith had forged, and felt the essence of the creature resist, then fail. It, too, exploded in fading mists of night. Rion harried the third while Kyri kept the hostile trees at bay; then Poplock put another of his alchemical flame-darts into the shadow wraith's half-substantial head and Rion's swords finished tearing it apart.

With that, the trees shuddered, sinking slowly back into the ground, moaning and leaning away from the terrible flaming sword, one of them beating ponderously against its own branches that had caught fire. Gradually the poisonously green, dimly-lit jungle subsided into its eerily watchful near-silence.

Rion wiped his brow, shaking slightly. "I had wondered… if you were exaggerating. I started to think you had not when we left Kaizatenzei. Now I know you did not describe this abominable place well enough."

"To be fair," Poplock said soberly, "I don't think anyone could describe this place well enough. You have to be here to understand. And honestly, I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"Oh, there's a few I would wish it on," Kyri said grimly, looking around warily. "If I wasn't afraid they'd find it pleasant."

"I don't suppose we could go back to Sha Murnitenzei?" Rion said with a wan smile. "It's only a day and a half. They'd probably welcome the chance for another party."

"We'd just have to come back out here again," Tobimar said with an answering grin, as the little party began to move cautiously up the slowly-increasing slope of Rivendream Pass. "And I don't know about you, Rion, but I think I'd find it worse, having gone back into Kaizatenzei for but a day or so."

"I can't disagree," Rion said after a moment, with another shiver. He looked up the tangled slope where only the faintest of trails was visible. "How far is it?"

Kyri answered, though her eyes were still scanning the brush as they moved upslope. "Well, we didn't measure it… but that's the pass through the Khalals, so we're crossing through a mountain range, at least partly – even if this valley sort of dents the Kalals in. A hundred and fifty miles? Two hundred? Weeks of travel, anyway. Maybe we can move a little faster since we've done this before, and we've got you with us, but…

Rion's eyes widened, then his jaw set. "Weeks. In this place. Myrionar's Mercy. And you three came through here without even knowing that Kaizatenzei was on the other side? Maybe I wasn't really worthy of being a Justiciar, because I'm not sure I'd have had the courage to do that."

Kyri flashed him one of the smiles that seemed reserved for her big brother – filled not just with affection, but admiration that only a younger sibling could have for their older, better brother. "You would've done it alone, if you had to. I know you, Rion."

Rion glanced at Tobimar, as if to say well, if she says so, and then chuckled. The sound was both a relief and somehow alien in Rivendream Pass. "I suppose if anyone does, it's my sister. So…" he glanced around, including Poplock in his survey, "… do we have a plan as to our next moves?"

Poplock shifted on his shoulder; Tobimar caught Kyri's eye; she nodded. At that, Poplock relaxed slightly. "Okay," the little Toad said. "I guess we should bring you up to date. Sorry, but we've done those kind of discussions mostly among us three. We should probably include you from now on."

Rion shook his head. "I can't blame you. I wouldn't entirely trust me either, yet."

"I trust you, Rion," Kyri said firmly.

"You are prejudiced," Poplock said just as firmly. "And you know it. It's good you trust him. Just as long as you know we don't, yet. Honestly, until we've dealt with this Viedra guy, I'm not going to relax."

Kyri sighed, then stuck Flamewing into a suspicious-looking bulge on a tree root; the bulge screeched and splayed multiple clawed legs before collapsing. "Agreed. You shouldn't."

"All right." The Toad shifted to the shoulder nearest to Rion. "So, our next moves – after not dying in Rivendream, that is. The plan's pretty simple, based on what we've learned. Oh, first – that other figure that Thorny was talking to when you caught them out. Could it have been the Watchland?"

Rion thought, then shook his head. "No. My gut feeling was Skyharrier, and the height and build… they're not right for the Watchland." He looked apologetic. "Of course… there's no certainty that I remember everything right either."

"No, there isn't," agreed Tobimar. "Given that you're at least in some way a construct, there's a lot that Wieran could have changed, especially with a major demon helping."

Kyri frowned. "So, no evidence one way or the other on the Watchland there."

Tobimar shrugged. "No, but honestly? Miri's evidence is more than enough, if we trust her – and I do, and I think the rest of us do, too." Kyri nodded.

"Anyway," Poplock said with a slight emphasis, "the plan is first to scout out Evanwyl – see if everything looks okay. If it is, we'll sneak in a little farther, see if Xavier and any of his friends have shown up." Poplock gave the broadest grin his not-terribly-mobile lips allowed. "They'll kinda stand out, so that's not going to be too hard."

"If they are there?"

"Well, we make contact right away, clue 'em in. Believe me, if we can get Xavier in on the party, we want him in on it. You'll like him, he's a neat guy, warrior, looks kinda like your sister Urelle, fights like Tobimar."

"Except better," Tobimar said.

"Different," Kyri corrected him. "You both learned the same basic discipline, but he was taught different parts. It's true he has a couple of pretty frightening tricks, though."

Poplock looked at them like a sage interrupted in a lecture. "If I could finish?"

"Sorry," Tobimar said contritely.

"So, as I was saying, if Xavier and his friends are there, we make contact. Might have to spend some time talking with them, get to know 'em – you can't work well with people you don't really understand, after all.

"After that, or if they're not there, we'll be ready to start the dangerous part of the operation – the parts that might or will tip off our enemies that we've got 'em pegged. First, we go to the Temple of Myrionar and see if Arbiter Kelsley will let us dig through the Temple records; somewhere in there they've got to have some idea of where the Justiciar's Retreat is."

Rion nodded. "We can't confront our enemies if we can't find them."

"Right. So, whatever comes of that, our next stop is the Watchland himself. Preferably not in his home, of course."

"You're going to confront him before going to the Retreat?"

"Of course," Kyri said firmly. "There's only three possibilities, Rion. The first is that I'm right that there're two sides to the Watchland, good and bad – and maybe we can use the good side against the bad. The second and third possibilities come from the chance that either I'm wrong, or whatever's good in him can't really stand up to Viedraverion. In that case, either he will decide to take us on immediately, or he'll decide to run for the Retreat. I am pretty sure that no matter what tricks he may have in place, he will not be able to keep me from finding the Retreat if I'm following him closely enough. If he leads us to the Retreat, or we beat him and can find our way there with Kelsley's help… well, then the final chapter of this plays out one way or the other."

Rion nodded. "I see. But what if … well, he's made his move? What if Evanwyl… isn't Evanwyl?" He was obviously tormented by the thought, and Tobimar couldn't blame him; Tobimar probably had the same expression when he wondered what had happened to Skysand in the time he'd been gone.

Kyri's face was suddenly cold and hard as stone. "Then we go straight for the Watchland, no pauses, no chance for anyone to raise an alarm or prepare. At the most we try to scout things out as carefully as we can beforehand, but we can't take a risk of alerting them. There's only four of us; we can't afford to give them time to get a larger force against us, even if we're stronger individually. And yes, Rion, Tobimar, I understand that depending on… what Viedraverion is, and what allies he may have and powers he may use, we may end up fighting our own friends." She held them all with her gaze. "If that's the case… we try not to hurt them. But we have to win, or this was all for nothing. We continue until we are all down… or we've won."

The three others looked at each other, and then nodded. "Agreed."

Rion touched her arm. "You know… that means we might have to fight Lythos."

She nodded. "I know."

"He could kill us."

She looked momentarily infinitely sad. "No, Rion. I don't think he could. Not me, anyway. Oh, he's a better warrior than me – than probably all of us put together. But if you remember, Lythos himself told us 'enough skill can overcome power. But enough power can overcome skill. Those who have both… they are the masters.' Well, Tobimar and I fought an Elderwyrm and lived. I think we're… well, out of his reach, no matter what his skill."

Rion stared at her, then shook his head with a grin. "I… still have a hard time grasping that."

Tobimar snorted. "So do we. There are times it still doesn't seem quite real. Even though we fought it, and you and I crossed the scars on the landscape the monster left. I don't think our minds are really meant to be able to comprehend something on that scale."

"Oh, it happened," Poplock said calmly. "Otherwise I'd still have that crystal, and wouldn't have had to replace that Gemcalling matrix." He patted the elaborate ring around his upper arm, a ring with a glittering blue-purple gem set in it. "And wouldn't have the scars where my arm got shattered."

"In any case… don't worry about it, Rion," Kyri said, and hugged her brother. "Time enough for that when we get there."

Tobimar agreed with her. Right now, they had to stay alive – though that really should be easier now, given the powers they'd learned to use. But no point in borrowing trouble from the future.

Whatever was waiting for them… wouldn't be waiting much longer.

 

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 11

 

Where there are heroes, there must be a villain...

 

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Chapter 11.

     Once more the scroll remained silvery, blank, even as the voice spoke from it. "A few weeks only, now."

"Really? You have made good time. The matrix remains intact?"

"Astonishingly so. I need only focus on my intended path and impression, and it brings forth the words, the posture, the gestures… everything I need." The voice paused, and in the silence it read something else.

"You sound troubled, my friend."

"It brings forth… feelings, as well. I cannot fight those any more than the thoughts, without risking discovery. Yet…"

"You are not being… affected by these feelings, are you?"

The hesitation was a far clearer signal than the answer. "I… I am trying not to be. I know the penalty for failure. But… she was… very important to him."

"Of course she was. But you must not allow this to affect your own emotions. You know how dangerous that would be – and not merely because you might be discovered." It was just as well that its unseen agent could not see it either, or it might have found the broad, vindicated grin the creature wore to be incongruous, even eerily unsettling, in comparison with the concerned, warning tone of its voice. Perfect. He will hold out for a bit longer, but fall eventually – as I have expected.

"Yes, I know. I will not allow it to affect me. Other than that, everything seems perfectly on schedule. They…" A pause, in which the creature could hear some other distant sounds. "…sorry, I must go."

The scroll went inert, now a simple metallic object. It leaned back and laughed, then shook its head. Only a few weeks? I will have to prepare soon!

It stood and began to leave, but it had taken no more than two steps when the scroll chimed an emergency alert – something most unusual. It immediately returned to the table and passed its hand over the surface. "I am here."

The face revealed on the scroll was of Chissith, a sand-demon of moderate power but excellent tactical skills, second or third in command of Yergoth's forces – forces that were supposedly in the process of crushing Skysand.

Chissith did not look like someone who was busy crushing a country; on the contrary, the congealed, unshifting mess on one side of its normally fluid visage looked like someone else had been doing the crushing. "L… Lord Viedra… help me…"

"What a surprise, Chissith. I hadn't expected Yergoth to hand this scroll over to anyone else." It smiled broadly.

"Yergoth… dessstroyed," Chissith said, voice slow, hissing and moaning like the wind over sand in pain and disbelief. "Mosssst of the forcesss… annihilated…" It glanced away, as though fearing pursuit.

"Dear me. And last I had heard there was just 'a little unexpected resistance', and 'we are assured of victory shortly'. What terrible powers could have intervened there, Chissith? Did one of the gods violate the Pact?" It couldn't keep its grin from widening yet more.

"No… gods… jusssst two –" The sand-demon's remaining eye widened. "Noooooooo—"

There was a momentary flash of movement that to the creature's eye looked like a river in flood, and the connection abruptly ceased, leaving the scroll as reflectively blank as ever.

Well, well. That was a bit of a surprise. Not entirely, true, but I would have expected something not quite so utterly overwhelming. But… the same sort of thing seems to have happened at Artania. Balgoltha's forces were abruptly shattered just yesterday and none of the survivors gave a coherent account of what actually happened.

     It seems that the plan is –

Without warning, the scroll darkened, to show a figure visible only as the darkest outline within darkness, the eyes blank wells of brilliant blue fire; an eerie, sussurant howl accompanied the vision. "Viedraverion."

"Ahh, Your Majesty, I had been expecting your call."

Kerlamion's rumbling, echoing voice, the sound of an endless fall and the destruction of air, held no trace of levity or amusement; it was filled with tightly-leashed rage. "You would do well to moderate your tone, Viedraverion. I have tolerated your behavior due to your successes, but I now see a series of failures, and the armies of the Empire and the Dragon both surround my walls."

"We knew that turn of events was to happen already, however." It was still smiling, and the blue-flame eyes narrowed dangerously.

"That turn of events, yes, but your plan also included other events – ones that would also have freed other forces to act to assist against this siege. Instead, I have heard a litany of failures!"

"A litany? How terrible."

The shadowy figure leaned forward, and the unseen lips drew back in a snarl that showed the same deadly glow within the mouth. "Have a care, Viedraverion! Neither your record nor your blood makes you immune to my wrath, and I near the end of my patience! This very moment I felt the fall of Yergoth of the Endless Desert; a short time agone, Balgotha fell and his spirit has not been seen in my halls; no word has come from the Academy, and I have heard stirrings from far Aegeia that things are not all as they should be. Explain yourself, or you shall suffer my anger first!"

As good a time as any; the King will be most busy from now until at least a few weeks hence… and it seems that a few weeks is all I will need. "Explain myself? Very well, Kerlamion. The explanation, really, is quite simple. I gave you a plan that stood a reasonable chance of success on its own, and allowed you to follow it, as your success – or failure – did not matter at all to me, but keeping you occupied with something did matter. Now, however, I have no more need to waste time with your puerile dreams of conquest, which are – as I expected – coming apart at a rather startling rate."

Kerlamion leaned back slowly, glowing eyes narrowing. "You are not insane. Yet these actions would seem to shout of insanity. You say the plan had a reasonable chance of success, yet it is failing almost simultaneously across all of Zarathan. Why would you do this? To weaken me? Are you entertaining a mad belief that you could usurp my throne?"

It laughed long and loud. "Oh, Lord Kerlamion, I have not the faintest interest in your throne. I said the plan had a good chance of success on its own. But many other factors are involved besides that one plan – most particularly, perhaps, Konstantin Khoros. I think you can lay the blame for the debacle of Skysand and Artania at his door, and perhaps that of Aegeia as well, though I would be unsurprised to discover that the Lady of Wisdom had a hand in it as well; that is, after all, her territory. But I have other, more pressing matters to attend to, matters in which your Hells mean really nothing at all."

Kerlamion suddenly stood, glowering down at his own scroll. "You … who are you?"

"And now you begin to understand, Kerlamion. A bit slow to realize, but then, I have had some practice in fooling others."

"What have you done with my first son?" The King of All Hells clenched his fists, and the air howled in blue agony.

"I? Found him nigh-dead already, defeated in his mission, humiliated by his own plans, and took what remained for my own purposes. But that was long, long ago, mighty Kerlamion, long before it was reported to you that his task-in-exile was complete."

It allowed itself to smile broadly as Kerlamion sagged back into his throne. "You have been playing my own son for four hundred thousand years?"

"I have. And you have only suspected now because I have allowed you to."

The massive black form bent forward, and the mouth was a blazing slit with jagged fire for fangs. "I will destroy you, whatever your true form. I will seek you out with all the power of the Hells, and there will be no place in all the myriad worlds, in all the universes beyond the Veil, where you can hide." Kerlamion's voice rose to an echoing thunder. "I will call forth the hosts of the Black City to search for you, yea, for a thousand times a thousand years if I must, even if I give up all I have gained and more! I will discover your name and erase you and it from—"

"Oh, but you know my name, little one," it said, and dropped the human guise, grinning now with a mouth of blades and eyes of its own inhuman flame.

Kerlamion's eyes widened and he staggered back. "Lightslayer."

A light laugh. "How charming; the second time I've been reminded of that lovely old nickname. But yes, you know me now, Kerlamion. Now do you think you can threaten me?"

The huge dark head shook slowly from side to side.

"Excellent. Then I will not have to listen to your bluster any more." It began to rise.

"Wait!" Kerlamion's voice shook with restrained rage. "You planned for my failure. Why?"

"Oh, no, Demon-King. Even now, it may be that you will find victory. My plans were sound, so far as they went, and while it is true I did not intend to stay the course, so to speak, you have managed to accomplish what has not been done in ages: bring the Black City here to Zarathan, and this time without the other gods to intervene. You have the best chance to achieve your conquest that you have ever had."

"Why did you do all of this? What do you seek?"

It raised an admonishing finger. "Oh, now, where would be the fun in telling you? Some questions should remain unanswered. I'm sure you'll learn when the time comes. Fare thee well, o King of All Hells; I doubt we shall speak again, at least in this age."

It passed its hand over the surface, erasing the visage of the furious and shaken Kerlamion, and threw back its head for a thundering, inhuman laugh that shook most of the Retreat.

And so the endgame is begun.

 

 

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 10

 

Now, Kyri had made a promise to Lady Shae...

 

 

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Chapter 10.

     Zogen Josan stared at them from wide eyes. He hadn't moved for several seconds.

It is, Kyri admitted to herself, an awful lot to take in at once, even if some of it tells you that you weren't crazy.

Reflect Jenten also had the glaze-eyed look of someone hit in the head hard during sparring. He was the only other person they'd brought in to hear the story of what had happened in Sha Kaizatenzei Valatar; the ruler of Jenten's Mill had a right to know the truth, but none of them wanted to deal with the questions the whole town would be asking.

Not entirely to her surprise, Zogen recovered first. "By the Seven Lights, Phoenix. You … you swear to us that this is all true?"

"As true as anything I have ever said, Zogen," she said emphatically.

"It is … still so hard to believe. Our rulers demons? Yet demons who changed their minds? A Great Dragon of legend? Master Wieran the enemy?" He shook his head.

"Yet we have our own evidence for her story," Namuhuan Jenten said with a nod in her direction. "For did not many of us see her, blazing with golden fire, stopping a moving mountain of water? Did not the Temple of Myrionar itself come awake in blue and gold and silver in that moment? Lady Phoenix, we must once more thank you and your patron Myrionar; it seems that you did not come merely to unravel small mysteries, but to set right things vastly darker."

I'm at least getting used to the compliments so that I don't blush all the time, but it still makes me feel so… so … fake sometimes. "Thank you, Reflect. I hope you will understand that we intend to continue on as soon as possible."

"Of course," Zogen said, with a nod to the Reflect. "You have said nothing directly, but both the Reflect and I can hear beneath the words; you have a terrible task awaiting you on the other side of the mountains."

"Terrible enough," she agreed. "I felt that we had to tell the two of you the truth ourselves, though. I have only one other task here: I must speak with those who have chosen to serve in the Temple of Myrionar."

Zogen glanced at the Reflect, who smiled. "Of what must you speak?" the former Unity Guard asked. "For while I may be a very poor imitation at the moment, I have undertaken to become a servant of Myrionar, and have been studying your writings – and praying – for the proper guidance. It may be very long before I might call myself an Arbiter, but perhaps I might claim the title of Seeker Josan without being entirely arrogant."

"You?" She felt a huge grin spreading across her face, and heard Tobimar chuckling behind her. "Oh, Zogen, that's … I'm so honored, I –"

"Oh, enough of your humility! Take the credit for being such an example that I had not a choice but to follow you if I were to keep my self-respect." Despite the sharpness of his words, Zogen's smile was affectionate. "Now ask."

"Well… they have chosen to found a Temple in Valatar. They need the full copies of the writings I have given you – and I promise you that I'll send copies of the real holy writings as soon as I get home – so if you could possibly…?"

"Transcribing the words and principles would seem an eminently reasonable thing for me to do, my lady Phoenix; I will learn the words more clearly, and achieve your goal. Worry no more on it, then. I will make sure that a proper and full copy of your words reaches Valatar as soon as possible."

"So, I guess that means you're not going back to being a Unity Guard, huh?" Poplock asked.

Zogen shrugged. "Immediately? Certainly not; I must focus on this new path until it is as clear to me as the Necklace. But later… perhaps. There will still be much work to do. Unless," he turned to Kyri with sudden concern, "there is something in the Way of Myrionar that would forbid me to do so?"

Kyri thought. "No, I don't think so. It's clear that Terian himself has accepted the title of the Light as you view him, and Terian is one of Myrionar's oldest and most renowned allies. Your ultimate loyalty would of course have to remain with the Balanced Sword, but I cannot see that properly serving the interests of the reawakening Kaizatenzei, with its rulers now serving the Light for real and true, could in any way conflict with Myrionar's goals." She smiled and looked over at Tobimar.

He returned the smile and turned to Zogen. "Kyri and I even discussed the possibility that someone who serves another – Terian, of course, in my case – could become a Justiciar; there seems nothing that forbids it. Myrionar, Terian, Chromaias, and the Dragon King himself all accept and work with each other; they expect us to do the same here on Zarathan. I think that Myrionar would consider it an honor to have a servant of Terian choose the calling of Justice and Vengeance… and that Terian would be equally honored to have a Justiciar choose to follow him in prayer and worship."

"Then… perhaps I shall return to the Guard, one day. Once I feel I have truly understood the new calling I have chosen." Zogen rose and bowed to both of them. "I thank you again, Phoenix, Tobimar. Rest assured, I shall myself carry the transcribed materials to Valatar."

Kyri rose and took his hand. "Thank you, Zogen. To know that someone like you has taken up the Balance… it means a lot to me."

"And to all of us," agreed Reflect Jenten. "He's gone from our strange recluse to our new holy man, and we have needed one. Now go, go. You traveled far out of your way to come here, and you don't need to be mobbed by all our citizens and slowed again. Take the side door from my mansion; no one's likely to see you there."

"If you don't think it will be a problem –"

"Oh, there's plenty who will be disappointed. Just promise me you'll return here to visit once your mission is complete, and I'll explain it all to our townsfolk."

She smiled, relieved. "That I can promise. Tobimar and I very much want to come back."

"Then it is done. Go, now, and may the Light follow you."

As they exited the meeting room, Rion looked up from where he had been playing cards with Poplock and Nimally. "Done? Just as well. These two have succeeded in halving my meager resources."

"Oh, just a little luck," Poplock said unconvincingly, as he scraped coins into his little pouch.

"I begin to suspect that there is no such thing as 'luck' where you are concerned," Nimally said. "I cannot believe you hid your nature for your entire passage across Kaizatenzei."

"Not entirely. Old Hiriista figured me out almost at a glance. Sharp old lizard."

"That he is," Nimally agreed. "And a kind healer, as well. I followed his advice and I am finally healed."

She said these words with only a hint of a shudder. I don't think I could speak of it so casually if I'd been through her ordeal. Nimally had been the host of the master-itrichel, the horrific mind-parasite that had used the children of Jenten's Mill for its brood. The nightmares she must have; I would never wish that on anyone. "It is very good to see that you are healed, Nimally."

"Thank you. I see you are leaving already?" She sighed. "And I was just thinking of the appropriate seating arrangements for the banquet."

"Not another banquet!" said Tobimar in mock horror.

"Get on with you, then," Nimally said with a smile. "The side door's just that way."

As the Reflect had indicated, there were none to see them leaving from the side door; a few minutes brisk walk took them into the woods, and an hour of more sedate progress led them to the road that would bring them back to the Necklace.

"I don't think you'll escape a banquet in Sha Murnitenzei," Rion said. "From what I've heard, anyway."

"No," she agreed, "we probably won't. That's the first city of Kaizatenzei we saw, and the last one before we have to leave and enter the corrupted forest and go through Rivendream Pass. They'll want to hear something of our story and celebrate, and – honestly – I'll want one more night here in Kaizatenzei before I have to go back into… that."

She shuddered. Rion reached out and touched her shoulder. "Is it that bad?"

"You have no idea, Rion. It's… it's like…" She paused a moment, searching for a way to describe the hideous wrongness of Rivendream Pass that her brother could grasp. "It's like… that moment when Thornfalcon let you see what he really was? That instant when something normal and safe and sane suddenly turns to be completely, utterly corrupt and evil? That. Imagine the entirety of nature, every tree, every beast, every insect, the very air itself being as corrupt and hostile and lethal as Kaizatenzei is pure and uplifting."

Rion frowned as he tried to imagine what she described. She saw a slight shiver. "If it's that bad, I'm amazed you got here."

"I wouldn't have without Tobimar and Poplock." She nodded at the other two, walking some distance ahead.

"So… do you love him? Really?"

I must really believe he's Rion, because that question doesn't feel like an intrusion. More like Father questioning me. "Yes, I do. Really. I know it seems abrupt to you… and I guess in a way it was. He and Poplock saved me from Thornfalcon."

"Hm. They tell the tale slightly differently. Tobimar says you saved him."

"Well… both are true. If Tobimar and Poplock hadn't arrived just in time, Thornfalcon would have… tortured and sacrificed me." She saw no point in detailing just how Thornfalcon had obviously intended to carry out the torture, but Rion's expression showed that he could probably guess. "Then when I got free, I guess I did save them. And then all three of us barely killed Thornfalcon. After that it took all of us plus Xavier to deal with the gateway of monsters Thornfalcon had left behind."

He looked at her, then shook his head again with a smile. "And they say you did it by yourself, with the power of Myrionar. My little sister… a Justiciar." Rion looked at her armor. "But why Phoenix?"

"You ought to know that."

"Well, yes. Rebirth."

"And…?"

He looked … blank for an instant, then smacked his head. "Ugh. I'm not quite… perfect, I guess. Whatever they did to bring me back. Took me a second to remember. Things are foggy…" He blinked. "But… yes, of course. You were always the Phoenix and I was the Dragon."

She felt a slight creeping chill. She had almost managed to forget the macabre nature of Rion's reappearance, but this brought the disquiet back in full force. The association of Dragon and Phoenix went back to her youngest memories. It's Rion… but is it all of him? Or is there something else there as well?

"Does this mean you'll be having a whole new set of Justiciars?" Rion continued, apparently unaware of her thoughts. "Dibs on being Dragon, then."

Kyri forced the thoughts back. No point in second-guessing. He's still Rion. Just maybe a little … injured. "If you meet the qualifications."

"Oh, ouch. Am I going to have to go through all the Trials again?"

"We'll see. If we all live through this, I think that'll probably qualify as trials."

"You're likely right." He looked up to where sunlight trickled in green-tinted gold through the canopy. "The old Justiciars were named after birds; you're going for, what? Legendary flying creatures?"

"Makes sense to me. Phoenix, Dragon, Thunderbird, Eonwyl – if I can get the blessing of a temple of Eonae, anyway – Griffin, things like that." She made the sign of the Balance. "We need a clean start, and the old Raiments will at the least need to be re-blessed and probably reforged by the Spiritsmith."

He looked at her with the fond smile she remembered so well, and the cold discomfort faded almost entirely away. "And reforged in the image of our old toys."

She realized that he was right; that set of figurines hadn't just had the Dragon and Phoenix but all the others she had named, and more. "Oh, by Myrionar, did I actually do that?"

He laughed and impulsively flung an arm around her, hugging her close. "Of course you did, little sister. But with perfectly good reason and symbolism even a God couldn't complain about… and," he looked serious again, "with the heart that a Justiciar needs. I'm not a Justiciar now – I've tried, but the power isn't there – but if one day I am… I know my sister's made an example for me to live up to."

She hugged him back; for now, things were exactly as she'd hoped, and she thanked Myrionar for that. "And I know you will live up to it."

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 9

The party had set out, and that means a long journey in the wilds...

 

 

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Chapter 9.

Poplock caught a tenzili on the wing and crunched down. The glowy-stuff the little insects used gave them a particular tang that he liked.

"That's… kind of eerie, Poplock," commented Tobimar.

"What is?

"When you eat those things you end up with a glowing mouth for an hour or so. So I just see this little floating smile and sudden flash of you gulping something else down."

"I didn't realize that! Sounds neat!"

Tobimar chuckled. "In a creepy way, yes, I think." The Skysand Prince finished putting the supper dishes away and then went to sit beside Kyri on the other side of the camp.

The toad noticed Rion looking pensively at them; the one-time Justiciar shrugged and frowned, then turned to look out into the darkness surrounding the camp. "If no one objects," he said, "I'll do a scout around camp before we all turn in."

Kyri and Tobimar glanced around, both with some reluctance. Knowing what was on their minds, Poplock bounced up onto Rion's shoulder. "I'll come with you." The relief on the others' faces was obvious.

So was the wry smile on Rion's, even in the near-blackness under the stars above Kaizatenzei. He walked a few moments in silence, moving easily and quietly through the brush. "Not letting me out of your sight yet, are you?"

"Would you, in our position?"

Rion didn't answer right away; finally he let out an explosive sigh. "No, I suppose not."

"Part of you was counting on that."

"What?"

Poplock gave him a gentle kick to the side of the head. "I saw you looking at them. You're not comfortable with that, are you? You figured one or the other would insist on coming with you."

The blond-haired head dropped down in unmistakable embarrassment. "I… look, for me it's two years ago. My sister hadn't even noticed anyone aside from Aran and the Watchland, and now suddenly I find she's … well, serious about this so-called prince I've never met before. Of course I'm a little worried." He raised his head and cocked an eyebrow at the Toad. "And given what I now know about those other two, I think I have a little bit of a reason to be cautious about her judgment there."

Poplock snorted. "Okay, you might have a point. 'Cept it's still not really your business."

"No," Rion conceded after a moment. "But after our parents died… I guess I still want to take care of everything. That's stupid, though; she's obviously taking care of herself perfectly well. Better than I took care of her or me, for that matter."

"You got kinda suckered like everyone else. She still thinks you're the greatest thing living; you don't know how hard it is for her to let us stay suspicious of you."

A quiet chuckle. "About as hard as it would be for me, I would guess." He paused, then smacked his sword against a nearby bush; something hissed but scuttled swiftly away, recognizing Rion was much too dangerous to confront. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Don't guarantee I'll answer it, but you can ask."

The one-time Justiciar hesitated again. "No one… no one really told me the results of your analysis, just that you had decided that I really was at least a part of Rion Vantage. Could you please tell me what you found out?"

Poplock considered. He obviously could tell Rion everything. The question was whether he should.

After a moment's reflection, he decided that there was no real reason not to. It had been a few weeks. If Rion had a deeper game he was playing, it clearly wasn't time for him to move yet, and nothing that they'd discovered would be a surprise to him.

"You're not exactly human. I suppose you probably guessed that."

"My human body was left in Evanwyl. I had hoped that it had been re-created here. No?"

"The samples we took … well, you were saturated with magical energies, no surprise there, and there were components that were human, some that were probably Demonic, and … well, there's no nice way to say this… some that were graverisen."

Rion looked at him with faint horror. "I'm … graverisen?"

"There's a part of some type of walking dead there – can't tell what type, though. Plus demonic power and essence, and human. That all isn't surprising, though. They probably took part of your original corpse as a pattern, and this Viedra guy used his demon-power to build you a new body." He hesitated, because the next part was worse.

"What? Come, Toad, don't stop now."

"Okay, but you'll really hate this one. He still needed a living human body as a base, something to take that fragment of your soul – something like making a new flickerflower bush by grafting a branch from it onto a simjin root. So—"

"Oh, great Balance." Rion's face, always much lighter than his sister's, looked almost white in the starlight, and he stopped walking. "I… I'm wearing someone's reshaped body?"

"And," Poplock said, "one whose soul was used to rebuild yours. At least, that's our guess. Wieran, or Viedraverion, or both were involved, and they're like way out of my league and even out of Hiriista's. What we found… could mean something completely different. But that's our best theory."

Rion did not move for several minutes. Finally he gave such a shudder that it nearly pitched Poplock off the tall man's shoulder. "Myrionar's Mercy. Someone was erased just to make an imitation of myself. For what purpose?"

Poplock gave a bounce-shrug. "No idea, really. We kinda hope that they just weren't done with you, so you're pretty much who you appear to be –"

"—but maybe I'm not at all, and I'm going to turn on you at some point. I may not even know I will."

The Toad stared up at the sparkling sky, the edge of the Balance just visible above the trees. "No, maybe you won't. Wieran sure managed to do that well enough with the Unity Guard, and if we're right you were a special project for his biggest patron."

Rion nodded, and began walking again – but more slowly. Poplock could feel the heaviness in the stride. "Poplock… just so you know… if that turns out to be the case, I want you to know ahead of time – I don't care what happens to me. Just keep me from hurting Kyri. However you have to. Okay?"

"Trust me, if you try to hurt either her or Tobimar, I'll stick Steelthorn through your ankle and then cut your throat as you hit the ground. Just so we're clear on that."

"That's comforting to know." The attempt at humor was weak but sounded genuine.

"But," Poplock said.

"But?"

"But I do think there's something of the real Rion Vantage in there. And if that's true?" He looked straight into Rion's startled eyes. "Then I've seen your sister in action, and if there's one thing I know about her, it's that there is nothing that she'll let stop her from doing the right thing. So if you're the brother she thinks is so incredible, then you should be able to fight any control anyone puts in your head. Don't ask me to keep you from hurting Kyri. Do it yourself."

Rion looked away, then looked back with an almost sheepish grin. "I … I guess you're right. What kind of a Justiciar would I be if I let someone else turn me against my friends?"

"Not much of one, that's for sure."

They moved on for a few moments before Rion spoke again. "Thank you, Poplock."

"Just speaking the truth as I see it. But you're welcome."

"But," Rion said, pausing as he reached a small clearing that gave a view to the East and the faint red glow of Ajaska, the westernmost of the three volcanic vents ringing Sha Alatenzei, "if I'm really something other than what I seem… aren't you taking an awful risk just having me with you? Without anyone else?"

Poplock knew Rion wasn't just referring to the current situation – the little Toad alone with Rion – but to the small four-person party itself. "A risk? Sure. An awful risk? No."

Rion raised an eyebrow at him. "How do you figure that? If I am a time-destruction spell or something, I could be—"

"—worse than what we've faced?" Poplock swayed side to side in his equivalent of a headshake. "If you think I haven't already planned out how to take you out right now, you're making a really big mistake. As for all three of us – we killed Thornfalcon. Me and Tobimar beat the hell out of Lady Shae. We survived an Elderwyrm. Tobimar will cut you from a hundred feet away and Kyri will level the whole forest to get you, if you backstab us. Maybe you could kill us… but I know which side of that bet I am taking."

Rion threw back his head and laughed long and loud, the sound disappearing into the trees. "Well said, Poplock Duckweed. Well said. Then I say that if I am who I think I am… I am very, very glad my sister has gained such friends."

"And if you are… I'm really glad you're here, because she's missed you. A lot."

His face softened. "I know." The little campfire was now visible again ahead of them; the two figures sitting near it were so close that they seemed to be one.

Rion smiled. "But not so much she closed her eyes. Good enough."

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 8

And now let's see what might be the most tragic figure of the saga...

 

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Chapter 8.

     With a slight groan of effort, Aran heaved himself over the sharp edge of the black-glass scar across the land. Ahead, he could see that the Necklace continued down a gentle slope a short distance away. If he'd been willing to walk down the dark-polished miniature canyon for another quarter mile, it would have ended due to that downward slope. But the slope rose again in the distance, and Aran Condor could see the smooth-crescent bite that had been carved out of the hill, directly in line with the glass valley.

Looking back, he could not repress another shiver of awe. The Elderwyrm's rage had carved the land like a sword straight from the forge, in lines from the battleground that cut irresistibly through everything in their path for incredible distances. This glassy ebony mark on the land ran past Syratenzei and, he thought, had even left a mark on the far-distant mountains ringing Kaizatenzei itself; depending on how the ground rose and the curve of the earth had presented itself , it had reached depths of hundreds of feet at points along the way, at one point boring straight through the earth as a vast black tunnel that was slowly flooding from both without and within.

And the Phoenix – and her companions – defeated this thing, surely, or the Dragon would reign supreme here… if he had not simply leveled everything for a hundred miles.

The thought was beyond merely daunting; it was sometimes almost enough to make him reconsider his mission. Even the Demonshard Blade had hesitated at the thought of facing the Elderwyrm, and it was really the Demonshard that offered Aran his only hope to overcome the Phoenix and, finally, get his vengeance for Phoenix' murder of his friend and adoptive father, Shrike.

He shook his head and took a grip of his courage. It's a little late now. You asked the King of All Hells for his help hunting the Phoenix down; you'd been serving his son Viedraverion for the years before. Do you think there is any other way out of this?

     Morbidly he mused that the best outcome might be his own death following immediately after striking down the Phoenix Justiciar.

Then he shoved that thought, too, away. I've done good since then. I have! Maybe I can't ever make up for what I've done… or what I will do… but I can make the cost less. I can be remembered for something other than evil. There's people here who won't hear my name and spit, even when the truth comes out. At least I hope so.

As he got farther from that vile dead wound in the earth, the shining peace of Kaizatenzei returned, and with it some of his own spirit. He'd held off the Demonshard's influence in this place, forced it to serve his ends, helped rebuild Sha Kuratenzei and Syratenzei after the disasters, rescued others along his way. He smiled wryly. "And I've been calling myself the Condor Justiciar of Myrionar. Who knows, there may even be a believer now somewhere along my route."

Which would in its own way be quite a blow against his so-called master. Aran felt the smile tighten to a near-snarl. That was the real reason he couldn't afford to die even after taking down the Phoenix. Phoenix was a personal issue. But the "Patron" of the false Justiciars? He – or to be more accurate, it – was the cause of the whole issue, and wouldn't it be just indeed for the creature to meet its downfall at the hands, not of its greatest known enemy, but someone it thought was its puppet?

Aran reached the crest of the hill and looked down upon Sha Kaizatenzei Valatar.

The legendary Valatar Tower was fallen; most of the floating bridges that had crossed the town in lines of crystal and dream were shattered. Yet the beauty of the great city remained, and for a few moments Aran, the Condor Justiciar, could do nothing but stare, drinking in the shining rose-sunset tinted loveliness and feeling it ease, for at least a few moments, the tension and guilt and fear.

Finally he shook himself and moved down the last stretch of the Necklace towards the town. Evening now. Tomorrow… tomorrow I think I'll have to go to the current palace, whatever they're using while rebuilding the Valatar Palace, and see if I can get an audience with this ruler, Lady Shae. She must know where the Phoenix is… if the Phoenix isn't still here.

There was of course a considerable danger in meeting up with the Phoenix here. Presumably the city knew – had probably watched – as the Justiciar of Myrionar and companions had done the impossible; they'd be uncontested heroes and any assassination attempt would probably result in him getting lynched. So he'd have to be somewhat circumspect until he discovered whether the Phoenix was still here. If his target had left recently, though, Aran could probably catch them on the road with no witnesses…

The gates were still wide open as he approached; he nodded to the two guards standing attentively at the sides, but evaded conversation. A quick glance at the buildings ahead showed him one with a sign – the Dawning Light – that was clearly for a travelers' inn.

Aran hastened his steps slightly as he neared the inn; his legs ached – all of him ached, actually, because climbing in and out of the scar and walking down the slick glassy surface had been what he'd done for most of the day, and was far more wearing than ordinary walking. A meal and a good bed will do me a lot of good.

Arranging for a room took a little longer; refugees had taken many spaces, and apparently Lady Shae and her right hand – Light Miri, whom he'd met earlier – had decreed that refugees be housed and fed at the inns (expenses, he heard, borne entirely by the Lady of Light). But he was able to get a small corner room finally, and sat in the quietest corner of the downstairs dining room that he could find.

In the middle of finishing his gyllidat – an interesting grilled dessert pastry hed never tried before – he became aware of someone standing near his table.

Glancing up, Aran saw it was a young woman of about his own age. "Yes, miss?"

"Excuse me, sir, but… would you be named Aran?"

What in the Balance… "Why do you ask, miss?"

She tilted her head, studying him. "Because you fit the description. The armor you're wearing, like a great condor?"

Cautiously now… "What description?"

"I was given a letter to deliver to you, if you ever arrived in Sha Kaizatenzei Valatar. Told that if you were coming, you'd show up in one of the inns soon. If your name is Aran."

His heart felt as though it was sinking through his chest. Who would act in this fashion to get a message to him? Not the Phoenix. Not anyone he knew of an ordinary sort. But Viedraverion? Quite likely. "Yes, my name is Aran," he said, trying not to sound too angry. It wasn't her fault she was being used as a messenger. "Do I have to pay…?"

"Oh, no, sir; paid half in advance, I will be paid again once it's delivered."

And how will it know…

As he took the thick parchment envelope, he was surprised by its weight; more than ordinary paper was within. The seal on the envelope was also complex, and now Aran understood; once the seal was broken, whoever sent it would know the delivery was complete. "Thank you, then."

She bowed and moved off – apparently with other deliveries. They have a delivery service in the city for messages? Well… yes, I suppose they must. We didn't need any in Evanwyl, but I did see something of the sort in Sha Kuratenzei.

He finished his dinner first; there was no particular reason to rush, and the contents would be likely something he didn't want exposed to public view. Once he was done, he went up to his small room, set as many wards as he reasonably could manage, and only then sat at the tiny wooden table and placed his hands on the seal. "Aran Condor," he said, and bent the seal; it popped with a flash of green and eerie yellow.

Undoubtedly our Patron, he thought grimly, as the contents slid into view: a polished mirror-scroll, silver trimmed with gold. He remembered with a chill his last viewing of such a scroll – the mirror-finish replaced with the pure-black face and dead-blue eyes of Kerlamion himself.

With a sigh, Condor picked it up and held it before him. "I am here."

There was no immediate response, and Condor had a sudden hope that there would be no response. Maybe something had happened in the intervening time. If his Patron was no more…

But if that were the case, he would have known; the powers it gave them would have faded away.

On his third attempt, the silver faded suddenly, replaced with the cheerful smiling face of their Patron. "Ah, Condor! How wonderful! You've made it all the way to Valatar."

"Not without incident. I still haven't caught up with Phoenix, always just a few weeks behind them, and in the meantime this… place almost got destroyed – by a Great Elderwyrm, no less!"

"Yes, indeed, Sanamaveridion himself. But about Phoenix – I'm afraid we were both a bit misled."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you would be very ill-advised to go talk to the lovely rulers of Kaizatenzei and bring up the subject; you see, while I had thought they were – in a general sense, mind you – on my side, both Lady Shae and Light Miri betrayed my cause, and that of the King of All Hells." He looked sincerely apologetic. "I am afraid that while you thought you were following the Phoenix, they were just laying a false trail; the Phoenix was going the other way around the lake."

For a moment Aran sat still, dumbfounded. Tricked? Following a false trail all that way? Hundreds of miles following NOTHING?

Then he cursed and turned away. "Myrionar's Balance, how stupid could I be. Of course, that makes sense of everything."

"Really? What does it make sense of?"

He gestured vaguely. "I kept running into problems – real people problems, monsters, kidnappings, all that kind of thing – that it seemed obvious to me were the kinds of things a real Justiciar would have to deal with. It passed belief that the Phoenix would just pass them by unless there was something just incredibly immediately important driving them on, but I never got a hint of what important thing that could be.

"But now I know I was just getting whatever false hints they wanted to keep me going in the direction I was already headed. Thunder and Fire!" He kicked the wall so hard it left a hole, and winced. Great, I'll have to pay for that.

"Yes, I see. Quite correct, of course. From what little I got from Miri when she severed our relationship, Phoenix did indeed get involved in such things along the route the party actually took."

"Do you at least know if Phoenix is still here in Valatar?"

It smiled apologetically. "I am afraid not. You are now, in actuality, in the position you thought you were in earlier – a few weeks behind the Phoenix. The last symbol of Myrionar is now on its way home – to Evanwyl."

Aran closed his eyes and counted from fifty backwards to zero. This kept him from cursing again, at least, and saved the walls and furniture from more abuse. "At least I know where Phoenix is headed. I should be able to make up distance, unless they're pushing forward on a hard march."

"They shouldn't be; they have no reason to think it is necessary, and why would there be? Everything's fine at home." The smile was suddenly just a hair too sharp and shiny, and Aran shivered. "Get your rest tonight, Aran. You will catch them this time. I guarantee it."

"And if I don't? If they reach Evanwyl? I—"

"Aran, Aran, I understand your oath completely. I assure you, none of us will stand in your way." Its eyes lit up with sudden amusement. "In fact, I think we could help you."

"What?" He was immediately – and he felt justifiably – suspicious.

"What do you think the Phoenix is going to do when he – or she – arrives in Evanwyl?"

"Now? After what they've done here? Come after you, of course!"

"But how will they find us?"

"They… oh." He paused. "Oh, I see. If I work it correctly, I could lead them to you. And then…"

"And then," agreed the other with a chuckle, "You can get your vengeance and we can … deal with the Phoenix' companions so that no one interferes with you at all."

The idea worked. If Phoenix had companions, and they'd even lived through that last battle, they'd be dangerous, dangerous adversaries. Having his Patron and his old comrades taking on those adversaries… "Agreed. If I don't catch and kill Phoenix before we enter Evanwyl, I'll find a way to get them to follow me." He felt his lips twist in an ironic smile. "Given that Phoenix will want to kill me about as much as I want to kill them, that probably won't be too hard."

"No, I wouldn't think so. Well, then, Aran, I leave you with wishes for a peaceful night's rest. Good night!" It hesitated before making the final cutoff gesture. "Oh, this scroll – break it after we are done, please."

"As you wish, sir."

"Farewell, then." The scroll went blank. Aran immediately picked it up and bent it double; it split and cracked down the center, and instantly began to evaporate. A summoning or temporary creation… maybe a functional duplicate of some original our Patron has elsewhere? He'd never really studied magic in detail. The important point was that no trace of the mirror would remain in a few moments.

He grinned suddenly. Yes, an excellent plan, Patron. Bring your most powerful enemies to our stronghold, where they will be most vulnerable. 

     But you will be in greatest danger there, too, for there will be nowhere for you to hide… and once Phoenix is dead, no reason for me to wait.

 

 

 

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 7

It's time for Our Heroes to set back out on their quest...

 

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Chapter 7.

     "You know, I really hate to say goodbye," Poplock said, as he shook Hiriista's extended claw between his forepaws.

"As do I, more than I can express. We make excellent teammates, all of us, do we not?"

"Beyond any doubt," Kalshae said with a laugh. "I learned this to my sorrow… and my joy. A strange yet satisfying end to many things, despite our losses."

"And one that's resolved so many of our questions," Tobimar said. "Not just my quest, but some of Kyri's as well."

Poplock bounce-nodded. "Including where all those monsters came from."

The experimental laboratory where Wieran had worked on his life-shaping had been – as Poplock had suspected – down the third portion of the underground part of the Valatar Palace, the branch to the right as one came down the stairs from the Throneroom. Shae and Miri had both verified that it was a place that contained almost uncounted monstrous things – both "successes", like the enhanced itrichel they'd encountered in Jenten's Mill, and far more failures – which were the things that had come through the gateway at Thornfalcon's estate.

"Wieran had some way of controlling them, preventing them from tearing each other apart – mostly," Miri had said. "I asked him once why he didn't just destroy them, and he looked at me – as he often did – as if I were an idiot, and gave two reasons: first that they represented data that he might want to re-examine, and second that even the failures might serve a purpose."

"Yeah, like being cannon fodder, as Xavier once put it, for someone like Thornfalcon," Poplock had responded.

But whatever might have been down there before, it was no more; the third corridor, and whatever lay beyond, had collapsed. Uncounted thousands of tons of rock had obliterated Wieran's third laboratory.

Poplock bounced again, shaking off the memory. "Definitely good to have those answers, but now that we've got the one answer about who the Big Bad is, we really need to get moving."

"I'm sorry we have to go –" Kyri began.

"Light, will you stop apologizing?" Miri said with exasperated fondness. "You came to our country, woke me to the light, defeated our enemies – including the Elderwyrm himself – and helped us get back on our feet. You've got to take care of your own people. Of course I wish you could stay – so does all Kaizatenzei. But you need to go."

"Shame old Wieran's upper workshop got ruined," Poplock said. "We might've been able to get a couple of those teleport gems and cut weeks off the trip."

Tobimar shook his head. "Do either of you really think you could have figured out how he did all that – even if his lab was intact?"

After a hesitation, Hiriista shook his head and hissed a sigh. "No. No, he was far, far ahead of us. He had clearly mastered aspects of magic that I have not an inkling of."

"Shame he was a total nutcase," Poplock said. Then he sat up higher on Tobimar's shoulder. "I guess you guys let everyone else know we were leaving?"

Kyri stopped dead on the top step of the mansion they had been staying in while part of Valatar Castle was restored, and stared in consternation.

A cheer so loud and deep that it became a roar shook the air, and the gathered people of Sha Kaizatenzei Valatar waved and cheered again. "Kyri! Tobimar! Poplock!"

Miri and Shae laughed at Kyri's expression; Poplock had to admit that she looked pretty funny. "Oh, how, now?" Shae said with a broad grin, and then gave Kyri a sisterly hug that almost tipped her over – Shae being significantly taller and bigger than Kyri. "Did you think we would let you leave our city without the people knowing, and at least telling you with their voices how much you will be missed?"

Her face three shades darker than normal, Kyri muttered, "I had hoped you would…"

"Come on, Kyri!" Miri grabbed her hand and started pulling her down the stairs. "You're leaving now, but we've got something to show you on the way."

"Something to show me?"

The crowd had looked disorganized to Poplock, but as the two women approached it parted in a straight line up Dawnlight Way, the central street of the city. The rest of the little party followed Kyri and Miri; Poplock glanced to his right.

Rion returned his glance. "I still can't believe my little sister's come so far, so fast."

"She had a lot of motivation. And a little help," Poplock said. Inwardly, Poplock still wasn't completely convinced that "Rion" was who he appeared to be. Oh, the story made sense, and it was hard to imagine that someone could have planned out the sequence of events that put him in their party… but Poplock felt that there was an awful lot of evidence that the head baddie – this "Viedraverion" – was just exactly that good. Still, Rion had passed all the tests they could figure. There were a few minor quirks of magic around him, but since there was no telling yet exactly how his new body could have been supplied, that wasn't very informative.

"Still…" Rion gave a disbelieving chuckle. "I thought I was the one who was going to be the Justiciar in the family, the hero to bring our parents' murderers to justice. And here's my sister doing the job for me, while I was… dead? Or something close to it."

The crowd closed in behind them, not quite close enough to be intimidating, but following the group as they moved up the street.

"Just be glad she and the rest of us did, or you'd still be in that tank. Anyway, as I understand it, you're something pretty darn tough yourself. We can use all the help we can get."

Rion ran his fingers through hair vastly lighter than his sister's; according to Kyri, Rion got all the traits of their mother, while Kyri and their little sister Urelle both took after their father. "I'm pretty good, yes – and now that I'm feeling more myself, I'll be able to help." He glanced down at the armor he was wearing. "This stuff isn't bad, and I'm grateful to our hosts… but I need to get better armor and weapons. If we're going up against the other Justiciars…"

"We'll keep an eye out, but from what he said, the Spiritsmith was heading out a little while after we left, so I don't think we can get you a real replacement for the one you lost."

"I didn't lose it. I was killed in it." When he spoke with the angry iron in his voice, Rion did sound very like Kyri. "And I plan to get it back from the people who took it from me – the ones that played at being our friends."

Poplock bounce-nodded. "That's our plan, too." He glanced up. "Ooo, looks like we're almost to the show-and-tell – whatever it is."

Miri and Kyri were standing in front of a building that Poplock thought, thinking back, had been some kind of large storefront before the big battle. Now the front was covered with a huge piece of cloth held in place by a few ropes; the little Toad squinted and was able to make out a few people standing on either side of the building, holding ropes. Ah, it's an unveiling. They'll pull those ropes, and the cloth gets pulled apart like a giant curtain.

"What's going on here?" Kyri asked, staring at the cream-white cloth as it rippled in the breeze coming down the street. There was a similar ripple in the chuckles that ran through the crowd.

"We wanted to make sure that you all saw this before you left." Shae raised her hand, and the veiling cloth fell away to each side.

Poplock stared, then wished he could grin as widely as Tobimar.

The face of the building had been reworked, its front now in deep sky blue with touches of silver and gold, and over the doorway, the symbol of the Balanced Sword. And clearly visible inside, by light shining down through what must be a skylight, was a statue of a tall woman holding an immense sword aloft – a sword that was suspending two great balance-pans on its point, one pan on each side.

Considering how they had to be doing this in little spurts of their spare time, probably dozens of them – they got her pretty well. The fall of the hair, the overall shape of the armor, and the stance – that was, beyond a doubt, Kyri Victoria Vantage, the Phoenix Justiciar.

"Oh, great Balance…" Kyri murmured, managing to combine joy, embarrassment, and shock into a single expression.

"I see we succeeded in hiding it from you," Hiriista said proudly.

Poplock looked over to the mazakh magewright narrowly. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Ahh, my friend, your first loyalty is to Tobimar and the Phoenix; I would not have strained your discretion so."

"Bah. It would clearly have been worth it."

"But you already have your own temples of the Light," Kyri was saying. "You don't need –"

"We don't need to," interrupted Shae gently. "We want to. Within the first day after the disaster I had thirty-six requests for a temple to your god Myrionar, to honor Its emissary on our behalf."

"But you put me as part of the Balance! That's… that's too much, it's using me to symbolize Myrionar. Please… Please, if you must, keep the statue, but … but put up a plain Balanced Sword, all right?"

Miri started to laugh, then saw the deadly seriousness of Kyri's face. "You mean it."

"Yeah, she does," Poplock said, bouncing to the Justiciar's shoulder. "It's a big thing in the religion – I've learned a lot about it, traveling with her. The fact that there isn't a face for Myrionar is important. Makes it so there's no arguing that Myrionar really favors humans, or mazakh, or Children of Odin, or Toads; It is purely for justice for all. Right, Kyri?"

"Yes, that's it. Thanks, Poplock. I… I don't want to offend any of you, it's… its so incredibly touching, I never expected this, but that statue, it's just too much…"

"Understood," Shae said firmly. "We shall move the statue to a place of honor that is not at the altar, and place the simpler sword and balance symbol above. We have only begun to understand your ways – most of what we did here came from Miri and Hiriista, who were present when you prepared your more extensive teachings for those in Jenten's Mill. We didn't dare ask you for similar writings at the time, not if the surprise was to remain a surprise."

Kyri smiled more naturally – it was easier to relax, Poplock guessed, if you weren't worried that your image was being used in a sacrilegious representation of your own religion. "I guess not. We were leaving now, but…"

"Fear not; as you know, the Unity Guard are now preparing to return to their customary cities. I will have one of them – Danrall, I think – go to Jenten's Mill and acquire a copy for use here in Valatar."

"No, leave that to me," Kyri said. "It's my job to spread Myrionar's faith, and we did plan to stop at Jenten's Mill so that Zogen would know that he had been right to worry… and does not have to worry any longer. Maybe he'll even bring it himself, and rejoin the Unity Guard."

"If you would do that for us, we would be very grateful," Shae said.

"I will be grateful," Kyri said, face darkening with several shades of embarrassment anew as she looked back towards her statue, "for you give Myrionar new life, so don't thank me any more. Just… let us finish this quest. We'll come back, I promise!"

"If we survive," Poplock observed pointedly. "But yeah, all three of us will want to visit you again. Don't think you've seen the last of us."

Miri and Shae laughed and then bowed low. With a whispering rustle, the entire crowd echoed the gesture, a bow that rippled outward through the city like a wave. "Then be on your way, Phoenix Kyri, Tobimar Silverun, Poplock Duckweed, and Rion Vantage. May the Light shine upon you and illuminate your souls and the blessings of Kaizatenzei follow you always. Good luck," and Shae's face suddenly acquired a fierce grin, "and good hunting."

The crowd rose and parted, and the four companions turned, walking towards the risen sun, from the steps of the Temple of Myrionar.

 

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 6

We can't go on without occasionally looking in on the OTHER side of the board...

 

------

 

 

Chapter 6.

"They … they seem to be exactly as they were," Bolthawk murmured, in a tone of mingled fear and awe.

It followed the false Justiciar's gaze to where Mist Owl stood in conversation with the earlier Silver Eagle, Gareth Lamell, and Skyharrier. "Oh, indeed, they are exactly as they were." It chuckled. "I suppose your surprise comes from your first re-introduction to your fallen comrades?"

Assured by its tone that this was not a dangerous subject, Bolthawk nodded. "They stank of the grave, their eyes were dull, they seemed graverisen, nothing more. But over the last week…"

"Yes, they have perked up quite a bit since then, haven't they?" It gestured for Bolthawk to take a firmer grip on the damaged piece of Silver Eagle's raiment which was currently on the creature's workbench, and then began gently hammering on the metal; faint ripples of green and shadow flickered from the armor as the being worked on it, bringing the armor back together. Ahh, Spiritsmith, your work is supernal; a shame it had to be marred so. My repairs will be serviceable, but hardly up to your standard. Then again, you would rather they were not repaired at all than serving my purposes, so I suppose that's as you'd prefer it.

"The fact is that for one such as myself, bringing the dead back fully takes a bit of time," it said, continuing the discussion. "The body must be either repaired or in some cases rebuilt, the soul brought back, and the connection between the two must heal as the body… learns, I suppose is the best term, how to live again. By now, that process is quite complete."

"You mean… they are not just wraiths or revenants?"

"They are as fully alive as they were before they met their deaths, yes. If I were somehow felled tomorrow, they would not collapse and turn to moldering corpses or anything of that nature. They are not imitations of their prior selves, Bolthawk. They are precisely who they appear to be… just with some rather unique experiences that you have been fortunate enough to avoid thus far."

Bolthawk's expression was a delicious mingling of awe and fear. "Never have I heard of anyone reviving the dead after so long a span of time, in the case of Gareth, many years indeed. Not even the gods."

"It does, in truth, require some rather unique circumstances, I admit. But more than that you have no need to know."

"Where is Thornfalcon, then? Surely you would've wanted him back more than the rest of us."

Your stolid exterior, Child of Odin, is rather misleading when you show so clear an evaluation of the world around you. "You are of course correct, Bolthawk; he had the best overall… mindset for the job as I envisioned it. Unfortunately, and rather ironically, his journey along the path to become one of my people led to him meeting the final death, one from which even I could not retrieve him."

"That path gave him a weakness, then?" Bolthawk's face suddenly went pale; it could tell that Bolthawk was realizing that the question itself was potentially dangerous, one that could draw an immediate and fatal reaction.

Instead it laughed. "Certainly it did, Bolthawk. Of course poor Thornfalcon, being so new to his power, was far more vulnerable to that weakness than I; I would have been wounded by the same strikes, but not slain, let alone had my soul shredded irretrievably. All things have their weaknesses, even the King of All Hells … or me. But while I might, if it amused me, tell you his weakness, I think I will leave mine for others to guess."

"I would expect nothing else, sir."

It grinned again, and straightened, looking at the now almost invisible seam. Almost done. "It wouldn't do you a great deal of good, Bolthawk; the oaths you and the others have sworn would make it inadvisable for you to plan a rebellion, even if I not only told you my weakness but allowed you to prepare to make use of it. It's more a dramatic preference than anything else; all things must be done properly, you understand?"

Bolthawk started to nod, then cocked his head, and shrugged. "I can't say I do, sir."

"I suppose not. If you live long enough, perhaps we shall have this conversation again and your answer may change. But –"

A signal touched its consciousness in a way another might have described hearing a faint but significant sound. "Ah. I have something to attend to. Clean this up and lay it aside; I'll complete the work later."

It took only a few minutes to reach the inner sanctum of the Retreat and place the silver-and-gold scroll on its pedestal. "Yes?"

The scroll did not show a face; the person on the other end did not have the capability to make a full connection. "Initial attempt complete. Progress as expected."

"Good. Do not contact me more often than once every three weeks. The more you disturb the matrix, the greater the chance you will be discovered. Let its truth hide your own."

"Understood. I will only act under the agreed-upon conditions."

"Correct. Thank you for your report."

It leaned back in the chair with a smile. Placing agents at the right places, with the right preparation, could be so much more effective than sending armies or monsters. And – as with Miri, the poor girl – it wasn't even necessary that the agent understood what their true goals were, or even that they follow its literal instructions. Many agents, again including Miri as well as Master Wieran and Kalshae, were best when they thought it was their agent, or at most ally, and thought that by disregarding its instructions they would foil its plans.

But if you knew how such people thought, you could make sure that even their betrayals were part of the plan. So far, everything was going according to that plan. The most dangerous – and by the same principle, most entertaining – parts were coming soon, however.

But, it reminded itself, even the most careful manipulator could also be manipulated. And as the endgame approached, it had to watch the board more carefully than ever. Even the smallest piece – like, say, a Toad – could upset plans years in the making.

That would be extremely costly for it; setting up these precise conditions had taken more years than even Thornfalcon would have believed. It certainly did not want to lose this particular game.

And yet… if that were to happen… wouldn't that be exciting?

Smiling broadly, it turned and strode out to rejoin the Justiciars.

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 5

They had made a hideous discovery...

 

------

 

 

Chapter 5.

     "It makes all too much sense," Tobimar said quietly.

He saw Kyri nod, still pale under her dark skin. Rion had nearly collapsed after that last revelation, and it was clear that he needed rest badly. Now he and Kyri stood at the edge of Valatar, and he rested a hand on her shoulder.

She started at that, then nodded again. "Of course. And fits perfectly with that sensation I had around him – the one that first led me to be suspicious of the Unity Guard."

"That's right, you sometimes really liked him and sometimes got a creepy feeling about him," Poplock said, nibbling on a beetle he'd caught bumbling by.

"Exactly. Just like the Unity Guard when they were being switched from their real selves to their other… mode of operation, I guess?"

"But if that's the case… this demonlord isn't a simple Eternal Servant type simulacrum or anything," Tobimar said, trying to make some sense out of the situation. "What does this… two sided sense mean?"

Kyri shook her head. "I can't say for sure. Just… there were times that I'm absolutely sure that the man I was talking to was a man, and one who sincerely cared about me and my family. Perhaps the demon possesses him on occasion? Maybe this Viedraverion has trapped the soul of the original Jeridan? I don't know, but I'm sure that it's not as simple as the demon simply pretending."

"I'm sure too." Tobimar remembered how accurate her senses were; he wasn't sure if that was because she was the Justiciar of Myrionar, or if one of the reasons Myrionar had chosen her to begin with was that she had such a keen ability to see through deception. "Though Thornfalcon fooled you."

"That's been bothering me a lot, too," Kyri admitted. "But I think I know why. I'd been raised with him around – much more than the Watchland, too – and with everyone treating him on face value. I think I'd learned to shove those warnings away even when I was very young, because it was obvious that he couldn't really be a bad man. And by the time I was older, he'd really perfected his role and, maybe, could use his powers to hide his very nature."

He saw her face suddenly lighten with surprise. "What is it?"

Kyri looked both angry and sad. "Just remembered another clue that I missed. When the Justiciars came into the house and gave me their … apology, something I guess was almost honest for some and less so for others… they kept glancing back, through the door, watching someone else. I thought it was just worry about privacy, and later I wondered for a while if it was Mist Owl they were watching… but now I realize it was the Watchland."

She looked up towards the green-shadowed leaves of the trees before them, slightly touched with gray as a huge cloud changed the sunlight to dusk. "We can't wait much longer."

"No, we can't," agreed Poplock. "Tobimar's solved his riddle, you've paid us back for our help, it's time for us to help get to the bottom of yours. And with what we just found out..."

Tobimar cursed. "Great Terian. The Watchland's in charge of your entire country, and we just left him there while we walked off into what everyone thought was a deathtrap!" He had a sudden vision of what could have happened to that tiny, isolated country with a Demonlord in charge, one who now had no one to hold him back and whose plans were now well underway. Even Kyri's Sho-ka-taida Lythos would be no match for such a creature; Tobimar remembered the other people he had met and come to know during the weeks he'd remained in Evanwyl – Arbiter Kelsley, priest of the Balance and one of the most truly holy men Tobimar had ever been privileged to meet; little Sasha Rithair, Evanwyl's resident Summoner and all-purpose magician who'd done her best to teach Poplock her craft; Master of House Vanstell, dryly competent and faithful retainer; Minuzi, tall, dark-haired apothecary and housewife who despite her business found time to visit Kyri often as a neighbor and family friend rather than someone looking for the "Justiciar Phoenix".

The thought of them under the rule – or worse – of the demonlord who had planned the assassination of the Sauran King was almost more than he could bear. "You're right, we have to get back. With us out of the way, there's no telling what he's been doing since we left."

"Yeah," Poplock agreed, "and even our friend Xavier might be in trouble. He said he'd be trying to meet up with us once he finished his trip, right?"

"Balance, you're right. And he started out weeks before we left for the Spiritsmith. If he actually made it to the Mountain…" Kyri trailed off. "Well, he either did or he didn't. But he could easily be on his way back right now. And if he gets there and doesn't know what Jeridan is…"

"… things could get real ugly," the Toad finished. "Lots of reasons to go, not too many to stay."

Tobimar could see her hesitation, and took her hand. "I know – Rion. Don't worry, Kyri. Do you think I'd tell you to just leave your brother – if that's what he really is – behind?"

She looked embarrassed. "I… don't want to make other people wait just for –"

"It's not just for you. Or him, for that matter," Tobimar said emphatically. "His presence here can't be a coincidence. Maybe what they planned was to have him sent back to Evanwyl at a certain point. Wieran would have been able to implant all sorts of directives in him without him even knowing. But Wieran never got around to it, not with his main project consuming his time. Maybe Rion was a backup plan. But there's no way this doesn't connect to you, and we're not ignoring it, or making you ignore it either."

She looked at them both gratefully, and then hugged him tightly; Tobimar could see one of her hands give Poplock a pat, including him in the embrace. "Thank you both. And if you're right… if Hiriista's right, and that really is Rion…"

"… then we'd be plain stupid to leave behind another real honest-to-gods Justiciar of Myrionar when we're going to face down a demonlord," Poplock finished for her. "If their country didn't need 'em so bad right now, I'd be begging Miri and Shae to come with us."

Tobimar thought of that and smiled. "And I think we could probably convince them even so; they owe us a lot, and I can tell that Miri, at least, would rather like to see Evanwyl and the rest of the world as it is now, rather than the way it was thousands of years ago." He shook his head. "But that wouldn't be the right thing to do."

"No," agreed Kyri, still not quite letting him go. "Kaizatenzei does need them, and I think they need Kaizatenzei."

"Oh yeah," Poplock agreed. "We don't want them away from the bright shininess and going back to being demons; they only changed their minds a little while ago. Let that set a bit, I think, kinda like pourstone. 'Course, I don't know how long that shiny perfection's going to last now that the Sun's gone poof."

Tobimar shrugged. "You're probably right that it will fade in time," he said, finally stepping away from Kyri after a quick kiss. "But I'd guess that'll take quite a while, especially since the force that was causing all the corruption beneath was probably Sanamaveridion, and he's gone."

"I hope so," Kyri said, looking out at the peaceful shining of stars above the city. "I'd like to think it will always be like this."

"So do I," Poplock said, but his tone was serious. "But that's sure not gonna happen if we wait much longer."

Tobimar nodded. It had been a wonderful, terrifying, and in some ways healing journey through Kaizatenzei. But now they knew that they had left the architect of the world's disasters – of what in fact must be the next Chaoswar – behind them, and Viedraverion was surely not idle.

Time was running out.

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 4

It's time to delve into the mystery of Kyri's supposedly-dead brother...

 

 

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Chapter 4.

     "Ready," said Poplock.

 

Kyri looked around the large, rectangular room and saw Miri, Tobimar, and Lady Shae in combat poses. "Do you actually think he's going to lunge out of the tube to kill us all?" she demanded, feeling a somewhat unreasonable annoyance at this suspicion. We don't know it's Rion, she reminded herself. It really can't be him. Can it?

 

"Expect, no," Hriista said from beside her. "Think it is a possibility not to be utterly discounted, yes. You yourself admit that you saw your brother killed, were present when your priest failed to keep him alive due to his soul being torn apart. It is, therefore, vanishingly unlikely that this is indeed your brother. It is thus rather more likely that this is some form of trap. I am still unclear as to what the nature and purpose of such a trap would be, and the fact that apparently this tube was present for well over a year prior to your arrival argues against it being a trap in the conventional sense. But such caution is wise, would you not agree?"

 

"I … yes, I do," she admitted reluctantly. She sighed and looked down at the shadowy face behind the glassy port of the tube. "What do I have to do?"

 

"If this is your brother, it is obviously best that you be the first person he sees," Hiriista said. "By your account he was a formidable warrior, and awakening without warning to an unknown group of people could be… unfortunate for all concerned. Physically it appears that these tubes have provisions to keep the being within in good health for some indefinite time; we know that this should be the case as Zogen Josan was able to be retrieved and returned to duty as his living body relatively quickly without anyone noticing anything particularly odd. But I would still doubt that he is actually going to emerge with all faculties and physical capabilities at full strength."

 

He pointed to a series of three gold and blue catches. "Release those three – first this one, then the one on the other side, then the third – and then you can lift the cover up. Poplock and I have performed all other preparations; you may proceed when you are ready."

 

Kyri found herself hesitating, her fingers trembling as they rested on the first catch. Am I afraid of finding out it's not him, or am I afraid of what it will mean if it is him? What will it mean if it is?

 

With an effort she banished the questions. They'll be answered once I open this thing. With swift, precise motions, she unsnapped the catches, the smooth clack of their operation echoing around the laboratory that was currently being borrowed from one of Kaizatenzei's best alchemists. Taking a breath, she threw the cover back.

 

The top of the casket-like tube was hinged in the vicinity of the figure's feet. As soon as the cover had risen nearly vertical, it seemed to trigger something within; the cloudy liquid with its faint, sharp smell began to drain out the bottom of the tube, running swiftly towards the drain set in the floor. Slowly the liquid level dropped and the figure within was revealed; lighter-skinned than she, blond hair matted, and features she knew almost as well as her own. It's Rion! No… it's Rion's face, she corrected herself. I've heard it said that everyone has a double in some other town. Maybe this is Rion's double, someone I've never met and never would have.

 

But the coincidence that this "double" would have been sealed in a tube "a year or two" ago… perhaps, even, the same time that Rion had died… how likely was that?

 

Liquid dribbled from the figure's nose; a blue-green light shimmered from the sides of the tube and the liquid fountained from his nose; the chest suddenly rose and fell.

 

With abruptness that startled her, blue eyes snapped open and the figure half-sat up, a weak, pathetic scream wheezing from the mouth that was open in a horrified "o". The eyes blinked, then focused on her. "K… Kyri…"

 

It was her brother's voice, speaking her name. She couldn't forget that, couldn't possibly be mistaking it for any other voice. "R… Rion?"

 

He took a deep breath, then coughed, reached up a hand to grip her arm shakily, spoke, staring at her with horror still written across his face. "The… Justiciars… Kyri, they're corrupt… it was Thornfalcon, Kyri, Thornfalcon who…"

 

His other hand moved to his stomach and froze. He tore his gaze from her and looked down, then back up in disbelief. "What… was it a nightmare? I…"

 

She didn't know what to say or how to respond. It sounded like Rion, it looked like Rion, it was saying what Rion would say if, somehow, he had been brought back from the moment of his death, yet…

 

In that moment it seemed that the young man became aware of the surroundings. "… w… where am I?"

 

"You're in the city of Valatar in the country of Kaizatenzei," Miri said, apparently having decided at least for the moment that he wasn't dangerous.

 

"What do you remember last?" Hiriista said.

 

Rion (Kyri couldn't help but think of him as Rion now) blinked and his brow furrowed at the sight of the mazakh, but then he shrugged slowly. "I… had finally found the proof I needed that the Justiciars were not what they seemed, and I was running home, when Thornfalcon caught up with me. We dueled, but he –"

 

His gaze snapped back to Kyri. "Kyri, he's a monster, he's not even human, I couldn't beat him, even Myrionar's power was –"

 

She found herself laying a hand on his arm. "Rion, it's all right. It's over. Thornfalcon's dead."

 

"Dead?" He stared with comical disbelief. "How?"

 

"I killed him myself. Though not without a lot of help."

 

"You…?" His eyes finally seemed to focus on what she was wearing, and the horror drained away, slowly replaced with dawning wonder. "By… the… Balance. You? A Justiciar? My little sister, a Justiciar?" He started to rise, but his arms wouldn't support him enough to let him stand. "But… I don't recognize that Raiment."

 

"You found out the Justiciars were corrupt," she said. "So once Myrionar answered my prayers… well, actually," she blushed, remembering, "once Myrionar answered my demands, I had to go get the Spiritsmith to make uncorrupted Raiment."

 

He burst out laughing, and it was Rion's laugh – weak, interspersed with fits of coughing, but Rion's laugh, oh, so very much. "You demanded something of Myrionar? And then went and found the Spiritsmith to… how long has it been?"

 

She thought back over what had happened: Rion's funeral, packing and traveling over the Great Road to Zarathanton, confronting Myrionar in the Forest Sea, finding the Spiritsmith and gaining her Raiment… killing Mist Owl and Shrike and nearly being killed by Thornfalcon… then all the terrible and wonderful adventures since that took them through Rivendream Pass and Kaizatenzei to where she sat now… "Almost two years, Rion."

 

"Two years?" He fell silent, staring first at her, then looking around the room, studying everyone and everything with the careful, considered gaze that she remembered so well. "Where is Urelle?"

 

A pang of worry that she had repressed for months resurfaced. "I… I wish I knew for sure. We left Evanwyl – went to Zarathanton, and… well, after I was chosen and headed out…" she stopped. "Oh, gods, Rion, it's too much to explain right now."

 

"Especially," said Tobimar, stepping up, "since we have much more important questions to be answered. I'm sorry, Kyri," he said to her, and she could see his genuine sympathy, "but we can't hold off on this."

 

Rion raised an eyebrow, then glanced up. "I suppose you know what you are doing here. More than I do, at any rate. But could I get out of this… elaborate coffin and get some clothes on?"

 

Miri burst out giggling. "Our apologies!" she said. "Poplock, could you…"

 

"No problem." The little toad hopped onto the edge of the tube, Rion regarding him with bemusement, and did a mumbled gesture that caused a rainbow mist to march from Rion's head to his toes, leaving him – and the interior of the casket – perfectly clean and dry. Hiriista handed Rion a robe. "That will do for now, I trust."

 

"Sufficient to be acceptable, yes," Rion agreed, and slipped it on and tied it before standing slowly up; he wavered and Kyri caught his elbow, steadying him. "I guess I am not entirely myself," he muttered.

 

She guided him to a table on the other side of the room and let him sit down; the others followed and took their own seats around the table. She remained standing for a minute, worrying, before she forced herself to sit.

 

"Before we do anything else, I need to introduce you," she said. "Rion, this is Tobimar Silverun, Seventh of Seven of Skysand. The Toad on his shoulder is Poplock Duckweed; together with another friend of theirs, Xavier Ross, they saved me from Thornfalcon's trap and helped me finally kill him and wipe out the monsters he had brought into Evanwyl."

 

Rion bowed from his waist. "Then both greetings and my thanks, Tobimar and Poplock, for helping my sister avenge our parents' deaths – and I suppose my own – and making my country a cleaner place."

 

"Believe me," Poplock said, "it was our pleasure. Some people just need a lot of killing, and Thorny there, he was about top of the list."

 

"Yes, he was," Rion said, not even a trace of a smile visible.

 

"The mazakh with the magnificent crest is Hiriista, finest magewright in Kaizatenzei, and a wonderful companion to have on any journey."

 

Hiriista shook his crest in pleased embarrassment as Rion acknowledged him.

 

"And this is Miri, Light of Kaizatenzei – that means one of their protectors and warriors, like the Justiciars back home – and one of my new and best friends."

 

Miri nodded and blushed at Kyri's praise, but Kyri felt it was important to emphasize her position both personal and professional; it couldn't hurt to make sure that an ex-demon remembered why they decided to make that change, and more importantly would help prevent unfortunate reactions when they had to discuss her nature in front of Rion.

 

"Finally, this is Lady Shae, the Lady of Light, ruler of this country,"

 

For that Rion did rise and do a proper bow of respect. "You should have introduced her first, sister. Don't you know etiquette at all?"

 

She giggled, and Shae laughed and responded, "Nay, young man, she introduced the saviors of my country first, and so I, being the ruler who made certain… errors that led to it being in danger in the first place, am truly the last that needed introduction."

 

Rion looked at her with half-disbelieving eyes. "Savior of another country – that I never heard of – after managing to become a Justiciar and killing off Thornfalcon? You've been awfully busy, little sister."

 

"Yes, she has," Tobimar agreed. "But we have to turn to the more serious question of whether you have the right to call her 'sister'."

 

Rion's head snapped around. "What?"

 

"Well, that was a little more blunt than I would have recommended putting it," Poplock said with a kick of reproof to the blue-eyed Prince, "but, yes, basically. See, you died two years ago in front of your sister and that nice old priest Arbiter Kelsley, who practically killed himself trying to put your soul back together – and failed. You had your funeral and everything, and your body was there for it all. So… how can you be here at all, and still be Rion Vantage?"

 

His wide-blue gaze returned to her, eyes now wide with shock. "Kyri? Is this… true?"

 

"Yes," she said, and restrained the impulse to comfort him. My heart thinks this is Rion… but my head can't see how that's possible.

 

"Well." He sat in silence for a few moments. "I certainly see the problem," he said finally. "If my body, or what's left of it, is back in Evanwyl, and I died in front of Kyri… then I shouldn't be here. But by the Balance I sure feel like Rion Vantage!"

 

Hiriista leaned forward. "You mentioned what happened to you, Rion – for I suppose that is the best name for us to use for now, provisionally. Think back. Think carefully. Tell us the details of your last thoughts, and I especially want you to pay attention to those which may seem nightmare or delirium; this may provide us with key insight as to what truly happened to you… or what was used to create you."

 

Rion shuddered. "I… suppose so. But while it has been two years for you, for me it was… just moments ago, by my memory." He paused. "And yet… yet it feels longer. As though my death was far in the past."

 

"Go on," Miri said gently.

 

Rion drew in a deep breath and let it out. "All right.

 

"I was at the Justiciar's Retreat, trying to find the last piece of evidence I needed to prove what I had come to suspect – that the Justiciars were, somehow, false. I don't have to explain that to you now, I guess, but do you realize how hard it was for me to even think of it?"

 

Kyri would have laughed, but it hurt too much. "No, you don't, Rion. Even after you… died, they fooled us again. I only found out the truth almost by accident."

 

"Well… The problem for me was that while everyone acted as though Mist Owl was supposed to be the leader, he would often put off a decision and then come back with his orders an hour or a day later. He usually excused this as his preferring to think on things, and at his age that took time, but somehow it felt as though he was going to ask someone else for advice and coming back with his orders later. And every once in a while it seemed that he would glance at someone else – usually Thornfalcon – as though seeking confirmation.

 

"So I managed to enter the sanctum, where the leader of the Justiciars is supposed to hold council in case of emergencies, special events, you know the kind of thing. I'd done this as carefully and quietly as I could, even praying to Myrionar for the ability to hide myself and pierce illusions. And as I said, I managed to get the door of the sanctum open and looked in.

 

"It was very dark, with only a faint light about a quarter of the way across what was a much, much bigger room than I'd imagined. But there was a person outlined against that faint light, and I could recognize the thin, tall figure easily: Thornfalcon. He was talking to one of the other Justiciars – Skyharrier, I'm pretty sure – and the bit I heard mentioned my name in a tone that wasn't positive.

 

"Honestly, I hadn't expected anyone to be in that room, or that if anyone was there that they'd be in the dark. Even as I heard my name, Thornfalcon glanced around and I knew he couldn't possibly miss me outlined in the light from the hall. I slammed the door to as soon as I heard Thornfalcon's sword sliding out of its sheath, and threw a sealing prayer at the lock, then ran like Hell itself was after me."

 

His face was even paler. "I think it was, then. I called on Myrionar, and I was fast, so fast that even Mist Owl barely had time to turn and gape as I passed him and was out into the forest. I knew that all I had to do was get to the Temple. I was sure in my heart that Kelsley was still untouched, still a man of the Balance, and so I didn't have to hold back, just run, run faster than any man, so fast with the power of Myrionar that they would never catch me.

 

"And… I thought they wouldn't. I was sure. It takes many hours to get to the retreat normally, you know that, but I think I was almost home in two, the jungle flying by, Myrionar's power buoying me up, and I had hope, Kyri, I was sure that Myrionar would not fail me –

 

"—and then I saw Thornfalcon step out of the shadows ahead of me, smiling."

 

Kyri shuddered herself, and saw both Tobimar and Poplock shiver. They had faced more powerful adversaries… but she wasn't sure that any of them, even the parasitic itrichel, could have matched Thornfalcon for sheer, vile malevolence.

 

Rion looked at them and managed a faint, wan smile. "I don't suppose I need to describe how I discovered that I was outmatched."

 

"No," Hiriista said. "But you must describe your final moments, to the very end, in as much detail as you can. Because there we may find a clue as to whether you are an impostor, or in some wise the true Rion, impossible though that would seem."

 

"Of course." Rion's shoulders hunched, part of him trying to crouch, to hide and protect himself from hideous memory. "Could I… have something to drink? Stronger than water, please."

 

Kyri reached into her neverfull pack and brought out a bottle of Gharis Sunset – an ale that was one of her favorites, but that Rion really didn't like at all. "Here."

 

Rion took the bottle, pulled the seal aside absently, and took a swig. Immediately he made a face. "Oh, Balance, I should've guessed you'd have packed some of that swill along," he muttered. "Oh well… it's better than nothing right now."

 

If he isn't really Rion, he's incredibly well-trained.

 

The blue eyes were haunted as he continued. "Thornfalcon and I exchanged several passes of blades. I'd sparred with him before, but I knew even before we drew swords that he had been holding back. Then again, so had I, some.

 

"At first it looked like we might be even… and that meant that with the Vantage strength and my endurance, I had a good chance, I could wear him down, eventually hammer Skytalon right through his guard. But then I heard screams in the distance and I saw him smile – the coldest, most bone-chilling smile I've ever seen."

 

Kyri couldn't repress another shudder, remembering that smile herself.

 

"I remember demanding from him what he'd done, and he explained very calmly that the entire idea was to arrange my death in a way that none would ever associate with the Justiciars." He drew a shaky breath. "And then he… he changed. This huge, dark shadow seemed to grow out of him, a shadow with moon-blank eyes and huge claws and spectral fur, and I suddenly felt my sword sagging, feeling as though it had become a dozen times heavier."

 

His hands tightened on the bottle, and there was an abrupt crack; loam-dark ale foamed across the table as Rion jumped back with an apologetic curse.

 

Poplock rolled his eyes, but repeated his cleansing spell; the table and Rion were neat again, though there was a sparkling mass of broken glass in front of his seat.

 

Rion smiled weakly. "Wasn't even aware I was doing that."

 

"Don't concern yourself with it," Lady Shae said, and gestured; the glass vanished. "Continue, please."

 

He nodded. "Of course." He swallowed, then went on. "I called on Myrionar, of course, and for a moment I felt stronger… but as we fought I felt my power draining away and I finally understood what kind of a monster Thornfalcon was. But that was far too late, and his sword started carving me apart – one cut at a time, and with every cut I felt my strength departing, my endurance failing, the night growing darker, with him laughing, laughing all the time..."

 

He paused. "… or was he? Part of me says he stopped laughing at the very end, but another part says I heard that laughter for a long, long time."

 

"You don't remember me reaching you? I talked to you, Rion! You tried to tell me what was going on, you just couldn't before…" Her voice wavered and she stopped.

 

Rion's brow furrowed and he was silent a moment. "N… no. I'm sorry, I can't remember a thing. And I wanted to see you, so much, Kyri. You and Urelle and Aunt Victoria. But it just went black, with that laughter…"

 

He trailed off again, but this time thinking. "The laughter did go on a long time. But then … I don't know how long, I wasn't really conscious I think, these are more impressions than memories, if you know what I mean?" He looked anxiously at Hiriista, who gave a slow assenting nod.

 

"So after a long time the laughing faded, and I felt cold, icy cold, and … I don't know, I felt as though I had suddenly been brought into a gigantic chamber, a chamber filled with the essence of ice. But there was fire, too. And it wasn't either. Myrionar's Blade, I can't say what I mean."

 

"You mean to say that these were impressions, analogies, not literal truths," Hiriista said. "You do not, for instance, believe you were brought into an actual giant chamber."

 

"Yes, that's it. I'd been somewhere… warm yet deadly, with laughter, and now I was somewhere huge and both hot and lethally cold, and instead of laughter the cold was amused and then…"

 

Kyri was so tense she realized her nails were digging into her palms. She forced her hands to relax. "Then?"

 

Rion stared into unguessable distances. "Then… I was forgotten, I think. Or put aside? I don't know. I can't make sense of these sensations. My words just aren't… it's something I feel but it wasn't real, not like here. But after some time I can't guess I finally I felt something change around me, more darkness, but with feelings that weren't all dark and laughing and hate-filled, and then everything faded away completely…" he glanced to her, "… until I opened my eyes and saw you."

 

Kyri didn't know what to think, and from his frown neither did Tobimar. But Poplock and Hiriista were exchanging glances, and she saw both Miri and Lady Shae nodding slowly.

 

"All right, it seems that made sense to most of you," she said finally. "What did that mean? What happened? Is he Rion?"

 

The four looked at each other, then the others nodded at Hiriista, who rose and bowed slightly.

 

"There are… tests I would like to do, but I believe that we all have a good idea what happened… and if we are correct, then he is, indeed, Rion – or a part of him."

 

"A part of me?" Rion echoed.

 

"A new body – manufactured from what I cannot be sure – but with a fragment of your soul placed within, to grow and heal. If we interpret those images correctly, Thornfalcon had taken parts of your soul, but instead of simply consuming them, gave them to someone else, I would presume this Patron –"

 

"Who is almost certainly Viedraverion," Miri put in.

 

"—as I said, his Patron, possibly the demonlord she has named, and certainly a being of far greater power than Thornfalcon. The Patron kept your spirit-fragment intact within himself or possibly some sort of spirit container, and eventually placed it into the body you now wear and shipped you off to Wieran. For what purpose I cannot fathom, but this would appear to be the likely scenario."

 

Rion was studying his arms and hands as though they would give him a clue as to how this had all happened. Kyri was however more interested in something else. "Miri, who is 'Viedraverion'? You've mentioned him to us earlier but in all the other work we've been doing we didn't have time to talk."

 

"Viedraverion," Lady Shae answered, "is one of the most powerful Demonlords – a Child of the First to Kerlamion himself. In fact, Viedra is supposedly the actual first child of Kerlamion, which would make him vastly more powerful than any Child of the Second and even most other Firsts."

 

"He… helped us a lot," Miri said hesitantly, something which caused Rion's head to snap up in consternation.

 

"Sorry, Rion. You're not the only mixed up entity here," Poplock said. "Our two good friends over there used to be Demonlords themselves before they changed their minds. And that wasn't all that long ago."

 

Rion blinked. "Used to be Demonlords?"

 

"It's a long story," Miri said uncomfortably. "And I'll tell it to you, later. But let me finish. He was … well, not a direct ally, but a resource. He sent Weiran to us, let us know you were coming, verified that Tobimar was the Key, all that sort of thing, but that's not really the important thing. The really important thing is that he's the architect of Kerlamion's grand invasion."

 

Kyri felt her mouth drop open. It took a moment to close it again. "Wait. Are you saying that … that the monster responsible for making Thornfalcon, for corrupting the Justiciars, is also the one who arranged the Sauran King's assassination, the invasion of Artania and Aegia and –"

 

"- yes. I am saying exactly that. He has been living in Evanwyl most of the time, and I think his private project is there, somehow, but he's been directing almost everything that Father and his forces have been doing."

 

"Terian's Light," Tobimar murmured. "I remember talking with King Toron about all this; we couldn't figure out who was responsible for the coordinated unrest; we even contemplated it being one of the Great Wolves that assassinated the prior Sauran King, because of the perfection of the disguise."

 

Poplock bounced assent. "But we knew that couldn't be the case because this was an assault by demons and lots of other nasties, all across the continent, and the Wolves don't work for anyone except –"

 

"Yes," Miri said. "Except the Godslayer, Virigar, their own King. They do not work with any other creatures, which is just as well."

 

"But it being the first child of Kerlamion, one of the most powerful of all demons? That fits, especially with the tricks he might have gotten from Master Wieran along the way. And this all connects to Evanwyl somehow."

 

"I presume so," Miri said. "I've seen his current human guise many times; would you like to see it?"

 

Kyri's hands tightened into fists. "See the monster responsible for all this? Oh, yes. I want to know him when I see him."

 

Miri concentrated for a moment, then touched one of the gems set in her left armlet.

 

Light shimmered in the air between them, coalesced into a human figure.

 

Kyri found herself on her feet, her chair clattering away unnoticed, feeling as though a terrible abyss had opened at her feet; Rion had risen too, and Tobimar as well, all of them staring in disbelieving shock. "Oh, drought," Poplock finally said, and his tone was utterly devoid of his usual humor.

 

Before them, floating perfectly defined in midair, was the handsome, blonde-haired figure of Jeridan Velion, Watchland of Evanwyl.

 

 

 

 

 

Phoenix Ascendant: Chapter 3

There had been losses in the battle, and now after...

 

 

Chapter 3.

     Poplock gave his own little salute from atop Danrall's shoulder as Tanvol's body, clad in a pure white robe with the pattern of the Seven and One embroidered on it in gems and gold thread, was borne towards the shores of Enneisolaten by seven people: Lady Shae, Miri, Anora, Herminta Gantil and another Color whose name Poplock didn't quite remember, Hiriista… and Tobimar. Tobimar had insisted he be the Seventh, and none had argued with him.

The Unity Guard had been silent as the body was prepared and the seven had stood. But as Tanvol passed the last in line, they began to sing, a solemn and powerful chant, and turned as one to march behind the seven bearers. Looking behind, Poplock saw most of the population of the city, thousands strong. They were following, some grim, some sad, some crying silent tears, but all of them following with proud and measured pace.

As the procession reached the shore – a shore more broad and low than it had been before the Great Dragon rose from beneath its depths – the Unity Guard began to fan out, spreading towards other white-wrapped bodies waiting on simple rafts at the edge of the great lake.

Tanvol would not depart alone.

At that, we were lucky. Even counting the Unity Guards, less than a hundred people died in Sha Kaizatenzei Valatar. There had, of course, been at least thirty-five other tubes that had been crushed along with four other Unity Guards, and Poplock suspected a lot more had died in outlying areas – the ones actually struck by Sanamaveridion's ravening fires – but while the main city had suffered much physical damage, its people had mostly survived. Poplock hopped from Danrall's shoulder and, after a moment, bounced back to Tobimar and climbed back to his accustomed place. I owe Tanvol too; I … wouldn't want to be doing any of this without Tobimar.

Lady Shae yielded the place of honor next to Tanvol, Light of Kaizatenzei, to Tobimar, and instead became honor guard to Light Dravan Igo, the one Kyri had killed in freeing Miri. The others took up places at the side of the fallen, Unity Guard or merchant or mother or, in two heartbreaking instances, child, and stood tall and straight, looking west towards the setting sun.

"Lady Phoenix," Shae said, "we await you."

Kyri stood at the very edge of the water, at the farthest point of land remaining. "I do not know your rituals well…"

Lady Shae shook her head. "I was the speaker for the Light, but in this disaster I had a terrible hand; I will not speak our words. You know us well enough, Phoenix, and your friend and companion stands as Final Guide to his savior. I trust you will find the words and gestures of your own that say what needs be said."

Poplock nodded. Shae carried too much guilt for these deaths to feel comfortable giving the last rites, and the same went for Miri; it made sense that she'd give the position to the next most visible hero, the Phoenix who had shattered wave and withstood the Dragon with wings and sword of flame that had been visible even from endangered Valatar.

Kyri took a deep breath, and when she spoke, her voice was unnaturally strong, but not a shout; it merely carried like a shout, like a crack of thunder, yet spoke quietly, softly, warmly.

"We stand here on the shores of Enneisolaten, at the border between land and inland sea, to say our farewells and give final salutes to those who have crossed the greater border from this world to the Light in the Darkness," Kyri began. "I will not tell you not to grieve, for grieving is a part of loss; even if we are all to meet beyond death, still it is the departing of friends, of family, of children and teachers and lovers and protectors.

"But they would be happy to know that most of us remain, that their hopes and dreams were not destroyed – that Sha Kaizatenzei Valatar still stands, and will rise again. The Tower is fallen, but the Light endures within us all, and lives most strongly of all in those who gave of themselves that we might live."

She turned and faced the sun, now a blazing sphere sitting atop the surface of the great lake, drawing a glowing path across the water to where Phoenix stood. "I cannot speak for the Light in the Darkness, for Terian; but I can speak for Myrionar, his ally and friend, and I stand ready to send them on their journey to the Light. Let Tanvol, Light of Kaizatenzei, lead your people to the Light, and I hope and pray that Myrionar will be his guide."

Poplock held on as Tobimar shoved the little raft out, and it floated free, slowly drifting on the water; Kyri pointed her sword, and golden fire reached out and caressed the wood of the raft, pulling it forward, guiding it to drift outward along the path of gold-shimmering water, flames of the same color beginning to dance along the edges of the raft.

More scrapes within the silence, and the other rafts with their white-wrapped cargo began to drift from the shore. Kyri's red-gold flame flowed down both shores, directing the drift, and setting each to glow with the same fire.

Flame leapt higher on Tanvol's raft, which was now drifting farther away. "Terian the Infinite, in the name of Myrionar I commend these people, the fallen of Kaizatenzei, into your care. I ask you – I beg you – to hear me and bring them to you, receive them into the Light, for though they knew not your name, they served you and have held your Light in their hearts for all their lives."

Kyri bowed her head, and then raised it, gazing steadily at the armada of fiery rafts, all flickering with the golden fire of the Phoenix.

Then Poplock felt Tobimar's shoulder stiffen beneath him, even as his own little hands gripped suddenly tighter.

The setting sun ignited in blue-white fire, spreading star-bright light across the water, a path of gleaming silver and sapphire that stretched to meet the oncoming fleet, and as it did so their flames turned to argent and sky. Silhouetted against the now brilliantly-blazing orb was a tiny figure, cloak or cape streaming in a distant wind, arms outstretched as if to welcome friends and family home. The pure, brilliant fire rose higher, dazzling all of the watchers, so that Poplock turned away and even Phoenix raised her hand to shield her eyes.

And when the light faded, there were only the calm ripples of Enneisolaten glittering ruby and amber in the last rays of the setting sun; of the myriad rafts and their fires there was not a trace.

For long moments, none spoke; even Kyri was staring in disbelief.

Then Lady Shae gave the great spread-armed bow to the Phoenix Justiciar, lowering herself until her forehead nearly touched the shore, and there was an echoing rustle up and down the shore as everyone from Hiriista and Miri to the entirety of the gathered crowd followed her lead.

Only Tobimar and Poplock stood unbowed and looked into the gray eyes that still showed Kyri's wonder that she, she of all people, could be the focus of such gratitude and awe… and the heavy awareness of the responsibility that placed upon her. And now she's become a symbol all over again, to these people, as much as she was to Evanwyl. Oh, Tobimar's got some of that too, but she's got the presence… and the god acts through her. They'll remember the Phoenix of Myrionar first and always.

At last Shae rose. "We – we all – thank you, and through you Myrionar, for Its intercession on our behalf, and give praise to the Light, to Terian himself, for taking our fallen to his side." There was a murmur of agreement, echoing gratitude that covered the peninsula. "We can now return to our city with the sure knowledge that those we had lost await us in the Light, and wish us all joy and strength."

The stars had begun to shine out above, the clarity of the sky resonating with the purity that still somehow persisted about Sha Kaizatenzei Valatar, and as they began to move towards the broken, beautiful city, Poplock glanced back, and saw Kyri silhouetted against the fading crimson of the sunset.

Above her, just visible against the coming night, the stars of the Balanced Sword shimmered.