Chapter Ten
Amia slowly walked back from the kitchen of the manor where she carried a glass of water, sipping on it quietly. The corridors of the Atherton manor were dimly lit and quiet. The stars outside glittered in through the clear windows and frozen net curtains, absorbing the gentle light to glimmer like translucent sheets of silver.
The little Cleric paused outside one wall length window and gazed through the parted net curtains up at the night sky. The fragmented moons glowed, but even they were eclipsed by the great pink lights of Asmodae that lay at the northern end of the Tower of Eternity, on the other side of the Abyss.
Amia felt her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. It had been four days since she came back from the Abyss with Beralin. Although Amia felt back to full strength physically, her mental state was still exhausted. The thwarted invasion had taken its toll on her and everyone else that had fought in that battle.
It felt like it had been a dream – a nightmare. It seemed unreal that she had help command what had probably been the biggest battle of the Millennium since the Cataclysm. However, the memory of it was all still as clear as day. Her body felt too light without her armour, mace and shield. Her reactions were still as fast and as jumpy as ever, still in battle-mode despite the calm safeness of the Atherton manor. She could still hear the yells and cries of her comrades and the roars or the Balaur. Steel against steel clanged in her ears, the echoes of jarring pain jolted up her arms with every hit and block.
It was over now though. They had won, and now the Legions in the Abyss began the long restoring of the defensive rings around Teminon Landing. It would be a long process, directed by Sudryl's Sword Legion. But Julius and the other Brigade Generals did not waste time. Already they had begun work, and already they sent patrols out over Elysea, from the great capital of Sanctum, to the most remote of places like Poeta, checking on civilians and hunting for Balaur or Asmodians that may have snuck in through broken Abyss Gates.
They did not dismiss the possibility that the invasion – as huge as it was – could have been a mere distraction for something even bigger.
It was impossible to comprehend and achieve, but Julius did not take chances. It was better to be safe than sorry.
Amia sighed, wondering how Michael was. Just thinking of him brought a faint smile to her lips. She could not deny the relief in her heart at seeing him fine when she was called back to the Landing. All bickering and immatureness had been put aside.
When they wanted to, they could be together in perfect harmony. Yet they usually were not. It made Amia snort softly. Perhaps it was a defensive mechanism for them both, for each was too shy or embarrassed to admit their true feelings. Maybe they were too afraid to take it so seriously yet.
Yet when Amia thought about it like that, she felt her shoulders drop glumly. Even though they had won this invasion, it felt like the start of something huge. What if . . . what if Amia and Michael did not have much time left? What if one of them was Displaced and died before they could take their relationship somewhere seriously?
She felt a pang in her heart, and Amia dragged her gaze away from the sky and closed her eyes briefly.
I won't be the one who admits first, she thought with determination. I've suffered enough under his teasing. He has to admit to me.
She would not give out first. Her stubbornness and pride would make sure of that.
Amia carried on quietly to Beralin's quarters. The door to the bedroom was ajar just as she left it, with the soft glow of light emanating out. Just before she walked in though, she realised someone else was in there besides Beralin. However, she felt no concern.
She recognised his back and golden hair straight away from the gap in the door.
Julius sat in the chair beside the bed that Amia had used for healing and checking on Beralin's vitals. He was still dressed in armoured-robes, but with the outer layers cast off to save weight. His posture was tired as he held Beralin's hand in his.
Amia watched in silence, smiling softly. She truly adored the relationship and affection between Julius and Beralin. They were a perfect couple in Amia's eyes.
"Only Purebloods can pull off that sort of relationship and make it look good," Surion had mused once, earning a thwack from Amia, followed by his exclamation of, "What was that for? I was saying a compliment!"
Amia ignored the fact that Julius and Beralin were half siblings. So what if they were related by blood? Love did not make such distinctions. It was pure and beautiful in whatever form it materialised in.
But, although the harmony between Julius and Beralin was legendary, no one, not even Amia, had seen anything more than that. There were sometimes whispered rumours to add some interest to gossip in Sanctum, but there had never been any evidence. If Amia had not seen anything, then no one else had. That was certain.
Julius's expression puzzled her sometimes though, like now. Sadness and something else haunted his eyes. It was in these incredibly rare moments where Amia glimpsed a man who was far older than a hundred years.
It tickled something at the back of her mind, creating and odd pit in her stomach. There was a mask, and something hid behind it.
"How long do you intend to stand behind the door, Amia?" Julius asked, though it was not really a question.
It made her jump slightly, and she giggled awkwardly, opening the door further to allow her small body to slip in. "I didn't want to interrupt you. You don't get to spend any more time with her than we do. Our duties to Elysea always call first."
Julius's gaze flickered to the window. "To Elysea . . ." he trailed off. He closed his eyes, resting his head down. "Your loyalty is so absolute to the land," he whispered, his voice barely audible that Amia had to strain to hear him.
She did not understand what he meant, something which was not that rare. He spoke in riddles all too often. She was still thinking when he spoke again.
"Has she woken up yet while I was away?"
Amia moved to sit in one of the armchairs of the room, and plonked herself down with a sigh. "No. But her internal vitals are all stable. Sleep is now all she needs to restore the rest of the energy, which is returning slowly, but steadily."
Julius raised his head with a deep breath. "That is a relief then. I know I can always count on you."
Amia felt a bubble of warmth grow within her at the compliment from her Brigade General. "How is the restoration going?"
Julius stroked Beralin's hand absentmindedly, but his eyes gazed far beyond the room they were in. "It will be a long while before the Landing and our Abyssal bases are back to normal. Stability alone will take around two months." He then exhaled softly and stood. "Speaking of which, I must return."
Amia also rose.
"Send a message to me if there is any change in Bera's health," he said gently.
Amia nodded. "Of course. Now go! The Daevas need you to lead them!"
With that prompt, Julius smiled a little at last from her tone, lifting whatever weight Amia still had on her shoulders.
His hands flashed out, glyphs and runes glimmered in the air and the array that formulated and spun on the floor beneath his feet. Light streamed up from the geometric lines that filled the room with a surge in Aether. And then his body began to fade, before disappearing all together.
The Aether dissipated in the air, and Amia sat back down. She hoped her Legion and friends were alright in the Abyss. She hoped that Beralin would wake up soon.
It was a dream. I was dreaming. Yet it was a dream quite unlike any other. I watched through the eyes of a baby in her cot, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. It was dark and quiet with night.
The baby was bored. I was bored.
I realised something – I was the baby.
The cot's handles and bars had been gnawed by my young teeth in boredom and interest. The room's wardrobes, dressers and toys were all mine. The smell was familiar.
Glowing green dust floated across the room in the still air, sometimes shimmering away, sometimes returning, sometimes combined together to make patterns . . . lines . . . and then other times they dissipated apart.
I watched with interest as they gathered next to the cot into a humanoid shape. And then the glow faded to leave behind a figure standing next to it. His clothes were pretty. His hair was like dim fire. His green eyes were like the boy's eyes that always came to play with me.
I did not cry at the presence of this new face I had never seen, for his eyes were the same as that boy's. He was familiar. He felt safe. I liked his smile as this tall man reached into the cot. It was kind and gentle.
My tiny hand reached up in turn in curiosity, grabbing his finger.
He pulled his hand away and cupped it against my head. His hand was big and protective. His smile made me smile, filling my tiny chest with a strange warmth.
But, there was something else in his expression, a sadness that made my chest hurt.
He stroked my head and growing hair. His lips moved, his voice was as soft as the glowing green dust. It was nice.
His words made no sense back then, for my young mind had yet to begin making any proper connections in language. However, this was a dream, another memory remembered, and now with a mind of many decades in age, channelled through this dream, I could finally understand what he said.
"I wish I could look after you," he whispered gently. "Forgive me for not fulfilling that role. But I will protect you from afar, until the time is right."
I could not hold onto the dream as my awareness rose from the deep seas of unconsciousness. As I rose, I knew that the dream had been a memory, one so deeply buried in my subconscious that it should not normally be remembered, for an infant's memory did not start to remember until a few years later.
However, this memory was different, which may have been why it was remembered to begin with. It was a memory of him. It was the same man that came to me against Tiamat.
Upon recalling that name, everything came rushing back; the invasion of Balaur, my mission, my fight against Tiamat, seeing that man who triggered my manipulation of Aether, and falling into the Abyss on the sinking flagship.
My eyes opened heavily.
I was expecting to see the darkness of the Abyss and the fragments of lost Fortresses and Abyssal fungi floating in the distance. Instead, I stared at a ceiling.
There was no silent roar of the Abyss in my ears. Instead, it was a gentle quiet, the only sound being the faint crackle of fire in the fireplace that was on the other side of the room, shedding a warming glow throughout the room, coupled by a lamp nearby that was set to glow dimly.
The smell was familiar, the scent of books and herbs, underlying with faint perfume.
It was my room.
At first, I was confused. Before I lost consciousness, I was convinced that I would fall into the Abyss and become lost. But as I lay there, I sent my mind through my body.
I felt it all; the heart thumping in my chest, the blood pulsing through my veins, my chest rising and falling with my breath, the weight of the duvet on top of me as I lay.
This really was my room. I had been saved. I had actually been saved and survived and impossible battle.
Overwhelming relief flooded me, and I struggled myself up into a sitting position, wanting to really see my room.
The fire of the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the rug that was draped over the polished, wooden floor. The warm cream colours of the walls caught the warmth of the firelight behind the portraits. The curtains were drawn. My many shelves of books covered the entire length of one wall. Two armchairs sat before the fire.
Movement beside me caught my sleepy attention and I turned to look at who sat in the chair beside.
"Amia?" I croaked in amazement.
Amia woke quickly with a soft groan. The armour of war was discarded away, and she wore a nice dress instead. A book rested in her lap. Rings were under her eyes.
But that did not in any way hinder the incredible joy and further relief at seeing her.
As soon as she saw me, the sleep was chased away from her eyes, reignited with her usual fire of energy and she bolted up with a gasp.
"Bera!" She squealed, flinging her arms around my neck as she leapt across the gap that separated us. "You're awake at last! We were so worried!"
I barely stayed upright under her weight, which was not much, but after having just woken up, my strength was elsewhere.
"I was so scared for you," Amia almost began to wail, ignoring my grunt of protest from the tightness of her arms. "When we realised it was Tiamat who led the southern armada, we had no idea of what would happen to you."
As Amia's emotions exploded, I was struggling to breathe and get to grips with the sudden reunion. "Amia, Amia, wait. You're arms are too tight. One thing at a time, I can't breathe," I wheezed.
Amia gasped again, letting go and leant back on the bed. "Ah! I'm sorry! I'm just so glad that you're awake. You've been unconscious for seven days."
I sat back up with a massive breath, resting back against the bed board and I winced. "A week?" I repeated in dismay. "I've been out for a week? What happened?"
Amia brought her legs up on the bed, hugging her knees and visibly calmed herself.
"After the Balaur flags were raised and we found out it was Tiamat who led the invasion, Michael called for reinforcements from Lady Ariel, and called for Julius."
My face paled slightly. "Julius?" I whispered.
I subdued him with a poisoned kiss before I left for the Abyss. How soon did he wake up afterwards? Did he remember what I did to him? Our argument?
No, I told myself firmly, silencing the storm that was developing within my mind and heart. Whenever he woke up was certainly after I had found the flagship, otherwise he may have stopped me sooner. As for whether he could remember . . . he should not. That poison had amnesia affects. It made me feel relieved that he would not recall our argument, or at least, not completely. However, to my disbelief, I found my heart disappointed that he would not remember my kiss. My heart wanted him to acknowledge me within his own heart in the same way. I could not control that desire, no matter how much I tried to subdue it.
Amia nodded. "Yes, he came with three other Legions, but not to take over command from Michael. The reinforcements were a huge help and Surion and Michael managed to maintain the remaining rings of defence. They were amazing. But even though they were so coordinated, we would have lost if the reinforcements didn't arrive," she said with a shiver, a hint of darkness in her tone.
My skin also felt cold. I had passed that armada silently on my mission to find the flagship. The size was unimaginable. The tension and killing purpose that saturated the air was terrifying.
Yet my faith in Michael and Surion had not wavered. I had no idea what it looked like at Teminon Landing and at the defensive rings during the battle, and I had no doubt that it looked awe inspiring, but in comparison to the armada, nothing I had experienced today could beat the terrible intimidation and hopelessness I felt upon gazing at the masses upon masses of Dredgion Battleships.
"The battle was won when you blew up the flagship," Amia continued. "The Balaur retreated and then . . . and then Julius brought you back."
I tensed, glancing across at her. She was shaking her head. "Now that I think about it, it's no wonder that Julius brought you back in the state that you were. You were on that same flagship and fought Tiamat himself. It's Aion's divine will that you weren't captured or Displaced!"
Staring at my lap, my brain sucked up Amia's words like a dry sponge.
Julius came. He still came for me. But when?
"I am sorry, Bera."
Those were the last words I thought I heard before I fell completely unconscious. As I now thought about it, I recalled a little more. I caught a blurred glimpse of a beautiful being, like an angel. He had Julius's hair and eyes. It was Julius who whispered those words.
I could not describe the feeling in my heart. It was so sweet, yet absolutely agonising.
My head fell into my hands. I did not know what to do. I had to control this.
Yet I did not understand. Why was he sorry? What had he ever done to me to make him feel guilty to apologise? Normally it was me with the guilty conscious, apologising!
Had it something to do with hidden knowledge about us that he was purposely keeping hidden? Did it have something to do with our one-time death? Did it have something to do with that man with the same green eyes as us and red hair? Was it related to the tapestry and manipulation of Aether which I was somehow able to do?
Upon realising that, I looked up.
I could remember . . . I could still remember the battle against Tiamat clearly. I remembered how I attained victory at the Divine Fortress and how Cedric died. I remembered my dreams – more memories of a past that I did not know I had.
"Are you alright, Bera?" Amia asked worriedly, leaning forward and placing a palm against my forehead. "You barely had an aura when Julius brought you back. Healing you was a difficult task even for me. The spells were half as effective because your body had no Aetheric pull."
I smiled weakly and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm just a bit tired. I cannot thank you enough for healing me. Your skills truly are remarkable; never let anyone else assume otherwise."
Amia smiled back, her eyes moist and she patted my hand. "Lie back down and have some more rest. You'll need this sleep now just to re-adjust your internal clocks."
I did so, sliding back down and let my head fall back onto the pillow, closing my eyes. Amia slid off the bed.
"I'll cast some more healing on you when you're asleep so when you wake up you'll be back to a more acceptable strength," she said, shuffling around somewhere. "But, just out of curiosity, how did you destroy the flagship?" She asked meekly.
Behind my eyelids, the battle replied in my mind. There was the man with an aura of an Ascended Empyrean Lord, yet not one of the original twelve. He triggered that inner power that slept somewhere within my subconscious, and with that power, I used it to defend against Tiamat.
"I made her use her power against her," I breathed. "She destroyed the ship with her own firepower."
There was a soft hum. "An Assassin trick?"
I smirked faintly. "You could say that."
There was the soft poofing sound of the chair's cushion deflating slightly as Amia sat on it. "You people are clever and tricky . . . wait."
Her tone forced me to crack an eye open. Amia's eyes were wide. "You said 'she'?"
With that, I knew I could close my eyes again so I did. "Yes," I said sleepily. "Tiamat is a woman."
In the silence that followed, I did not have to have eyes opened to see that Amia's jaw had dropped.
"But –!"
"Later, Amia," I interrupted with tiredness. "I'm exhausted."
Amia sighed. "Very well," she said sheepishly. "Rest. You'll have much more strength and energy when you wake."
The tension flowed from my body, muscles unclenching and my mind calmed. Amia's presence – while a handful sometimes – was a safe one.
"Thank you, Amia," I murmured as my conscious slipped back underneath the dark waters of sleep.
Teminon Landing and the defensive rings were still masses of action a week after the Balaur invasion retreated. The exhaustion was showing on everyone, as they had yet to have any proper rest. Even though Michael chased away his heavy fatigue with spells, he was beginning to feel it do more harm than good. Spells – no matter how pure or their intention in this case – could not defeat the ultimate natural healing of all.
Sleep and rest.
Michael continued directing and organising. With Julius taking the ultimate lead in the restabilising and restoration, it already lifted a huge weight and stress from his shoulders.
It made Michael feel guilty sometimes, with just how much he actually relied on Julius. Everyone did.
Did it ever make Julius feel stressed? Because if it did, then he did not show it. But Michael did wonder. How much was he not showing?
Even during this past week with Beralin unconscious and in Amia's care, Julius carried out his duty with excellence. However, as his friend, Michael did see the slight distracted and distant gaze in Julius's eyes.
But, Amia was with her. And that made Michael feel further relief. If Amia was with her, then Beralin would be fine. She would heal. They were close friends as well. The six of them had the utmost trust and faith in each other.
"Michael."
The Chanter turned around at the call. He arched an eyebrow as the Gladiator strode towards him. Cloak and all. It was quite a sight.
"Surion. What are you doing back here?" Michael asked, coming up to meet his friend. "What about the outer rings?"
Despite the rings under Surion's eyes, the Gladiator grinned. "They're fine at the moment; they can risk my absence for a few hours. Besides, I just came back to give my report to Julius."
They both glanced away to the centre of the Landing. Julius stood, looking as calm as ever. He gave out orders and commands with clear instructions. Everything was beginning to move with organisation now that he took control.
A messenger approached their leader and handed him a letter. The paper was slightly pink when he opened it.
"Amia," both Michael and Surion intoned together, recognising that paper immediately. Only she would be childish enough to still use pink paper and parchment. The two men chuckled slightly.
"Ah, you two."
They turned to their opposite side, seeing Seregon seemingly glide towards them, as ethereal as a ghost, a rather frightening one with his armoured robes. He looked a little more tired than usual, but aside from that, his face looked as uninterested with everyone as normal.
Surion snorted. "Don't tell me you fought without changing your expression at all."
Seregon raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps."
"Let me guess, you were still bored?" Michael pressed in amused dismay.
Seregon smirked darkly. "No. For once, this battle was thrilling."
"Hurray!" Surion exclaimed. "At last we find something that interests our freezing Spirit Master."
Seregon made no response and his smirk faded back to his impassiveness. "Are you also here to hand in your updates?"
Michael nodded and turned to begin heading towards Julius. The other two joined him.
"Yes. I figured I'd give him a moment to get back into the swing of directing after he returned from Orien," Michael said.
Seregon frowned, as did Surion who then asked in a softer tone. "Any news about Bera?"
Michael shook his head. "Not that I know of. Julius doesn't show anything."
Surion sighed. "I swear, that man is harder to read than you, Seregon."
As they approached the courtyard, Michael watched his Brigade General. Julius was reading the note.
Then his shoulders sank with released tension, his eyes closed for a moment and a wave of relief washed across Julius's face.
He then opened his eyes and folded the note, looking directly at the three as they arrived and Julius smiled.
"Well, Bera woke up a few hours ago. According to Amia's message, everything is fine."
Surion and Michael mirrored Julius's smile, and Seregon sighed in that same relief. "That's the first bit of good news since the Balaur retreat," Michael mused.
"I couldn't agree more," Surion almost bellowed in delight, clapping Michael across the back. "To face a Dragon Lord and survive. And now she is virtually fully-healed, right?"
"Oof," Michael puffed, and then scowled down at Surion. Surion seemed oblivious to his taller friend's scowl.
"Physically, yes," Julius agreed. "She will need rest."
Michael nodded grimly, recalling Beralin's state when Julius brought her back. Even with the visible wounds healed on the surface, the internal body would need rest to full recover after such a strange and exhaustive drain on her internal energy.
"I wonder if Fasimede really had no inkling as to the opponent Bera had been sent to assassinate," Seregon murmured.
It caused Michael and Surion to glance at him from his dangerous, underlying tone.
"It is unlikely," Julius muttered. "Despite his position of power, his orders are the Seraphim Lord's orders. I will be meeting them over course of the next couple of weeks."
Michael's eyes widened slightly. Was that a hint of bitterness? Dislike? A hidden accusation, in his voice?
Julius caught his eyes. Looking at those deep emerald pools, Michael felt a shred of wariness. There was something in Julius's gaze – to just let it go.
"Have you brought reports?" Julius continued, breaking eye contact for a moment, but the feeling did not go away.
"Aye," Surion nodded. "The first and second rings are in a poor state and are near enough destroyed. I've established a temporary ring of Daevas in the meantime to act as a temporary replacement while we restore the basic foundations of the outer rings. This will take at least another week, but we are working swiftly. Once the foundations are set in place, then I can begin to work on stabilising the rings."
Julius frowned slightly. "They will take the longest. Michael. Your report."
Michael nodded to attention. "The third and fourth rings sustained heavy damage as well, particularly the third. The repairs are going according to plan, but it will also take a couple of weeks before we see some real improvement."
Julius nodded in thanks, looking to Seregon lastly. "Seregon. Report."
Seregon bowed, formal as always. "The fifth ring is stable, sustaining some minor damage. However, some key strategic pressure points were hit with carefully aimed Aether cannons. I believe the Landing may have been spied on for a long time for the Balaur to be able to know where to aim and hit. Aside from that, the ring is being well-maintained. Very few frontline Balaur were able to pass the fourth ring. The main damage is due to long ranged attacks."
Julius frowned, as did Michael and Surion.
"Seregon. I'd like you to write up a full report on the pressure points that were hit, and continue with repairs on the fifth ring. The Ritual Serpent Legion will join you in analysing the damage, as well as to install countermeasures. Michael, move all of your teams to the third ring and focus purely on repairs for that one. I will send the Wearers of Destruction Legion to take care of the fourth. And Surion, I will have all of the Shield of Divinity come to reinforce you repairs on the first and second rings. The remaining Legions will remain posted where they are between the rings and nearby Fortresses."
Surion bowed. "Thank you, Julius. Having Brigade General Sameth's direct instruction will be invaluble."
Julius nodded. "I'll start establishing shifts now across the Landing to allow for everyone to have some form of rest. So in the meantime, work, but not too hard. I don't care what some other Generals say. The health comes first. We cannot do anything otherwise."
Michael grinned. He liked this part of his leader. Julius was someone of many masks and faces. Even when he was not on the battlefield and was back in the Library of Sages in Sanctum, appearing humble and kind, he would still not allow anyone to tell him what to do. It was amusing to watch new and young Daeva's mistake Julius for just another ordinary librarian. Their new rank as a Daeva made many of them cocky. And oh how their pride was often shattered by Julius when they made the error of trying to order him.
"We will take our leave then. Please send our well wishes of a speedy recovery to Bera," Seregon stated, and Julius grunted in approval. The three of them saluted, and returned to their posts with their orders.
I woke up the following evening and true enough, I did feel better than previously during the night. I went for an easy walk around the manor and the garden with Amia who – despite being a Healer and should allow for time to rest – bombarded me with questions and details on the battle, making me feel drained.
My answers were no different to what I said during the night. I could not tell her that I weaved the Aether and I sometimes saw it criss-crossed in the very air of existence itself. I was an Assassin, yet the power I used back on the ship was unlike anything I had ever experienced or witnessed, aside from the veteran Sorcerers and Spirit Masters. But even someone like Seregon did not use the Aether in such a way.
I did not understand what was happening within me, at all. More often than not Ami had to constantly call me, a result of my lack of listening due to my internal worrying and fretting. I could not think straight.
"Oh, I sent a message to Julius last night to tell him that you had woken up," Amia added with a poke to grab my attention again.
I looked to her.
Amia scratched her chin thoughtfully, looking up at the evening sky. "Hmm, I forgot to tell you that Julius visited you about four times during the seven days you were out. He asked me to send word to him when you woke up." She then smiled gently at me. "He is really caring," she said softly. "He would not have left your side if he did not have to be in the Abyss."
I looked away, biting on my lower lip. "You think so?"
"Of course," she said brightly, twirling ahead of me with her arms swinging out from her sides. "I may seem like a happy daisy living in a bubble, but I do notice these things." She winked at me, causing me to blink.
Did she . . . was she able to tell of my feelings for Julius? Did she maybe see if he also felt the same way?
No, impossible, my mind objected quickly. I could not hope for such a thing. I did not deserve it.
But . . . if Amia knew of my feelings for him, then would she not feel awkward? We were brother and sister.
However, when I looked at her, I saw the gaze and expression of a woman who was in admiration and adoration, not one of awkwardness and dislike.
I embraced her out of warning, earning a startled muffle from her and I squeezed my eyes shut.
"There could be no better friend in the world besides you," I whispered.
Amia hugged me back and giggled gently. "And I will always be your friend, Bera."
Dear Bera,
I am relieved to hear that you are well again. Your recovery has been the best news as of yet for me and our Legion. However, even though you are physically well, I know better than to expect a full recovery internally as well. Therefore in order to reinforce Amia's instruction to you, please don't strain yourself, and certainly no fighting or training for a while. I wish I can be by your side but alas, Elysea has called for my services. Therefore this letter is short as my free time is virtually non-existent. It is unlikely you will see me for a while.
Amia will be liaising between the Abyss and Sanctum, but not taking any full part in the recovering of the defensive rings around Teminon Landing. This way she can still fulfil her duties, as well as to watch over you in my place.
You will also be called to Sanctum soon to give your report of the battle to Fasimedes and Lavirintos. Be careful with what you say. A one-on-one fight with the fifth Dragon Lord is not going to be taken lightly, particularly as even with the Dragon Lord on-board, you still successfully fulfilled your mission of destroying the flagship. An achievement as such is rare, even for an Empyrean Lord. Questions will be asked. Answers must be carefully worded.
Sadly, I have no more time and must return to my duties; therefore I will close it here. Our friends, myself and Legion send you well-wishes for a speedy recovery.
I shall see you again soon. In the meantime, do take care.
Julius
I folded the parchment, holding it between my fingertips with what looked like a delicate hold, but was in fact a firm grip. Resting my hands in my lap, I gazed up through the canopy of branches and leaves from the tree I leaned against. From between the leaves and branches, the pink lights of distant Asmodae shone.
Somewhere between where I sat, and those lights, were Julius and my friends, out in the Abyss, undertaking the second largest task of the current Age, aside from the recent invasion.
Julius's letter mentioned nothing of the battle itself, or the rescue. There was not even a tone of bitterness from my disobedience to him in carrying out my mission set by Fasimede.
It made my chest feel tight and constricted. He had always been the mature one out of the two of us. I was silly, a fool, to continue to feel nervous and worried and awkward about the argument. But he would not remember the latter part of it. And for that, I should also return to behaving as normal. Driving a rift between was the last thing I wanted to do, because in truth, my heart wanted the complete opposite.
I took a deep breath. Thinking about matters of the heart was going to have to wait for now.
Indeed Julius was right. Within the next couple of days I was expecting a summon to Sanctum to present my report of the battle. I had to get my story straight. It had to be accurate, retelling as much as possible.
However, the darkness of my mind whispered. I thought about Julius's letter again.
Be careful with what you say.
I frowned slightly. I know I had to be careful. I used a power that had never been documented or used before, and it was in fact an ability I had had since birth. What was it though?
Did . . . did Julius know? I knew he was hiding something. Was it something to do with this ability? Did he somehow already know what happened in the fight between Tiamat and I?
It was incredibly subtle, but the gentle hint was there, beneath the words and between the lines.
I rested my head back against the trunk of the tree with a soft thump, pressing a hand to my face as I closed my eyes with exhalation.
What is going on? I thought numbly. What is this power? How can it be so powerful to hold my own against a Dragon Lord?
Behind my closed eyelids, I saw that man again, followed by nostalgia and the dreams. Who is he? What's the connection?
I lowered my hand and opened my eyes. Ripples of those green lines criss-crossed segments of the air, appearing then disappearing, rippling and floating. I could feel its flow in the air, through the ground, around the trees and over the rocks, swishing in the water of the ponds and pulsing with the life of the carp within.
I slowly blinked. It all faded from my senses.
My expression fell.
I don't understand.