VERY IMPORTANT NOTE – PLEASE READ!
Hello, I know it's been some time since this story last updated. So I thought I would give you an update on what has been going on.
Some of you might remember, a while back, I said that I did have my own ideas for my own, original fiction, and that this story did take away from my time for writing those.
Well, I've had those ideas bouncing around in my head for a while now, and after Christmas, I decided I could put them off no longer. So it might surprise you to know that I HAVE been writing – just not for this story. I've been writing my own original fiction. In fact, over the past month and a half, I've written a whopping 150k words of it.
It's called Wander West, In Shadow. It can be found at Royal Road. ( likes to remove links, so you can't see a direct link). But if you want to see it, you can just go to royalroad . c o m and search for Wander West, In Shadow in their search bar.
It's very different from this work: It's my own original fantasy world, with some horror elements, following the travels of a wizard as he searches for his brother. Plus it's got a cute witch. It's very different in tone from this work; much more detail is given to environmental descriptions, and there's a lot more mystery, horror, and a little bit of romance, too. If some of you do end up checking it out, I'd be delighted – and if you do, it would be awesome if you could give it a rating on Royal Road (though I think you need an account for that) or a review, since it helps immensely with Royal Road's system.
Now I don't mean this to be simply an advertisement for my other work. So what does this mean for The Ol' Switcheroo?
Well like I said, I've written over 150k words of Wander West, and in fact I have just finished up the second 'arc' of it. One more arc, and that will be the end of the first 'book' I have in mind for it (I imagine it as a multi-book series.)
So what this means, is that I will focus on finishing up this third arc of "Wander West", finishing up the first "book" in the series, before I return to The Ol' Switcheroo. I have been writing the story very quickly – like I said, 150k words in about a month and a half – but I can't give a definite date on when the third arc will be finished. But after this first book of WW is done, my plan is to return to The Ol' Switcheroo, to finish it up. I would like for The Ol' Switcheroo to be finished sometime this year; after which I will probably go back to my original writing.
So there, that's my update! Sorry for the long delays between chapters – I have been having this original fiction idea burning in my mind for a while and it's been difficult to get my mind off it. If you're not particularly interested in my original fiction, I apologize; but I do write mostly for fun, so I write what's on my mind at the time. If you are interested, I hope you check it out and enjoy it, though as I said – it's very different from this.
Anyway, thank you all so much for reading!
1.
"Brighid."
Brighid's head snapped up with a start. For a moment, she had forgotten where she was. She glanced around herself. She was in her room, in Corinne's house, in Rex's home of Fonsett, of course. Crowded as she was with children and other visitors, the kind old woman had been generous enough to give Brighid her own room.
Well. One she had shared with Morag, anyway.
Brighid shoved that thought aside, not wanting to think of it. She tried to focus on happier things. The room itself was cozy, truly, gentle sunlight streaming through the window, soft and warm wooden walls, it was really quite-
"Brighid."
Oh, that's right. Someone was calling her name. Brighid glanced over. There, in the doorway of the room, stood Rex, his yellow eyes full of concern. Oh, poor Rex, she thought, he had been in such a state when they first came here from Temperantia. Brighid had been quite convinced that he was going to die. Nia had worked her healing on him well. Though Brighid had barely even had the time to spare a thought for him, with how worried she had been about Mor-
No. No. She wasn't going to think about that. Not about Morag, nor Niall – no. No, she was not going to think about that!
"Hello, Rex," Brighid said, surprised at how hoarse her own voice sounded. She cleared her throat, folding her hands in front of her. "Ah, what brings you here? Should you not be out, erm, 'practicing' with Nia?"
Rex blushed furiously. Brighid was glad for the two of them, how Nia had finally revealed herself as a flesh eater to Rex, and taken place as his blade. Still, it was a poorly kept secret that whenever the two of them went out to the woods to 'practice', they were just as likely to be kissing beneath the leaves. Or more. As far as Brighid was concerned, the two should have their time. Rex really was a good soul, and so young, so achingly young, and she could see it in his eyes, in the shadows beneath them, that he felt responsible for-
The howling flames, Mor Ardain consumed, collapsing beneath the Cloud Sea-
No, not going to think about it -
Rex screaming, consumed by dark flame, as Malos stalked the ruined rubble of Temperantia, shadowy counterpart to Mythra, the Angel of Death-
No.
The great, empty wound torn open in Morag as she watched her nation die, and her brother with it, her eyes gone flat and empty as she watched the smoke-stained sky in disbelief-
No.
Rex had said something in reply, but Brighid had not heard him. He was looking at her, as if expecting an answer. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I...didn't hear you. I suppose my mind was elsewhere."
"I...uh, I asked if, uh...anything was different, about...the, ah..." Rex mumbled awkwardly.
Brighid looked down before her. She was seated before a small table, draped over with a long, blue silk tablecloth. And upon the table lay three dark, blackened core crystals. Not merely inactive; black as pitch, corrupted by whatever Malos, that vampire, had done to them. The crystal they had gotten in Uraya. And Roc's. And Aegaeon's. Brighid shook her head. Had...had she just been...staring at these….? "Ah, no," she replied, forcing herself to smile. "But I suppose one must keep up hope."
"Are...you alright…?" Rex continued. When Brighid looked askance at him, he continued. "Nia...she said she….came up here, earlier, to see if any healing could be done on the cores, and you...you just wouldn't answer her, you just kept staring at them..."
That couldn't be right. Could it? Brighid couldn't remember any such visit at all. Surely there must be some sort of confusion. That could not have happened.
"I..." Rex looked away, a pained expression crossing his face, holding one of his arms. "I...know it must be rough, with Morag g-"
"No."
Suddenly, Brighid's skin was crawling with blue flames, causing Rex to take a step back in alarm. "No," Brighid repeated, her voice cold. And then her gaze softened, and the blue flames on her skin died down. "I mean…I apologize for the outburst. I...would prefer...not to speak of..."
Morag abandoning her, Morag out on some fool suicidal quest, the last thing she had in the world leaving her behind, Morag twisting the knife in her heart-
"...her, right now."
Rex was quiet for a moment, fidgeting, looking as if he wanted to say something more to her. Then he sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Alright...um, y'know, I just wanted to tell you, Auntie Corrine's made fish for dinner, and it's ready, if you wanna..."
Brighid waved a blue-gloved hand at him idly. "No, I...I think I will remain here. Perhaps I will come down later for leftovers."
Rex didn't answer, at first. He just stood there, staring at the blue blade, a frown on his face. "Alright," he said finally. And then, reluctantly, he closed the door behind him as he left.
Brighid returned to staring at the darkened core crystals before her.
2.
Rex paused for a moment as he closed the door behind him, lingering for a while. Brighid hadn't left her room at all since Morag had disappeared.
Everyone had been shocked when it was discovered that Morag had left. Zeke and Pandy had even wanted to go out looking for her, but Brighid had told them not to. Said that it was Lady Morag's wish to be alone. Though, honestly, to Rex, Morag leaving didn't seem all that shocking. It made sense that she would go to search for the last Ardainians. No, what was shocking to him was how she had left Brighid behind. That part he couldn't fathom, especially now, with Nia, that he knew what an actual connection to a blade was like. How could any Driver leave their blade behind?
Nia's connection was….so different, from what Malos had. The ether bond with Malos was pure, cold power, a great torrent that could overwhelm him if he was not careful – but power was all it was. Nia's connection was...so much more...intimate. Especially when she was close by, he could feel her emotions almost as they were his own, and he knew she could feel his. He could feel the pangs of her irritation before a frown even graced her face, feel the deep, aching sadness she felt sometimes, and...best of all, he could feel her happiness. Feel it shining like a great, glowing beacon that was soon followed by her laughter and smiles, something light and carefree, a happiness so infectious that it traveled along the ether bond and made him happy, as well.
And the more that happiness filled them both, the more her bond strengthened him. Again, so unlike Malos. With the Dark Aegis, the bond hadn't...depended on anything. It was just always there, always enough power to burn him, if he dared to take it. But with Nia, the more in-tune they were, the more strength he had. He knew the rumors, but it hadn't all been kissing in the forest that he and Nia had done. Well, it had been a lot of that. But they had found the willpower to concentrate on testing out Nia's blade abilities, a few times. And….the strength Nia lent him felt...different, as well, from that Malos gave him. He hadn't had the opportunity to use it in battle yet, of course…
The smell of cooked fish wafted to him from downstairs as he stood in the darkened hallway. Though to be honest, Rex hadn't had much of an opportunity himself, lately. Instead of joining the others downstairs for dinner, he made his way to his room, closing the door behind him to muffle the sounds of conversation, and sat on the edge of his bed. He stared, out towards the window, to the sky, a rosy red as the sun began to set.
And then, a small voice inside him began to speak.
What are you doing here?
Rex frowned, trying to ignore this voice. It came from somewhere dark inside him; it had grown louder, since the fall of Mor Ardain.
Are you really going to remain here, surrounded by your failures? Those core crystals Brighid stares at would not be dark if you had been stronger. Morag probably left in part because she wanted to kill you. She knows you're responsible for what happened to Mor Ardain. For all the dead, there.
Rex shook his head. This dark voice was not something he could listen to. It spoke deadly foolishness to him, he knew. He could feel it coming from...some pit, within him, some hole, that he did not know how it had gotten there. He focused instead on the part of him that felt hope and happiness. As dark as this shadow within him was, that part of him burned bright right now, as well. He blushed, as he thought of the reasons why. It was Nia; she made him burn madly with happiness, she -
Nia, poor girl. You'll fail to protect her, too.
That got to him. Fiery anger flashed through him, and he felt himself sinking into the shadow in his mind.
It's your fault Vandham's dead. It's your fault Mor Ardain has fallen. Don't you think you owe your duty to them? You owe it to them to find Elysium. To all those who fell because you weren't strong enough. You owe it to them to at least finish what you started.
You have to find Malos.
Fear and shame roiled through him, and he did his best to hold on to himself against the rising storm of guilt that built within him. It wasn't true, he tried to convince himself, it wasn't true, it-
"There you are!"
His eyes shot open at the sound of Nia's voice. He was surprised to see, as he opened them, that it was already night time – sunlight no longer streamed in through the window, instead it was nothing but a portal to the star-dotted night sky.
He raised his head to find Nia, hands on her hips, long silver hair swinging around her, frowning at him. He could feel, faintly, through their ether bond, her irritation, mixed with concern. Lots of Nia's pricklier emotions were like that; always mixed with something sweet. He blushed, looking at her, standing there in her blade outfit. He had always thought Nia was pretty, but in her blade outfit she was gorgeous. And those legs! He didn't know why that always made him blush – he had seen so much more than just her legs now – but the sight of her long pale legs flashing against her flesh eater clothes always made his heart pound. "Hey, Nia-" he began. And then he yelped as Nia tossed a loaf of bread at him that bounced off his head.
"Nice reflexes," Nia scoffed, her eyes flashing as she advanced on him. "Corinne told me you didn't come down for dinner. I get tangled up in healing one of the farmers a village over and you go and skip a meal. You….you're still wounded, from what Malos did to you, you need to keep up your strength."
Nia's presence as a flesh eater had been well-accepted in Leftheria; it probably helped that folk here had already known her as a healer from her previous visit. That, and Leftheria was, well, it was a laid back place to begin with, accepting of all types as long as they didn't cause trouble; it was part of what Rex loved so much about his home. And Nia herself seemed so happy, healing the people here.
"I didn't mean to skip it," Rex muttered, rubbing his forehead. "I just...I got wrapped up, thinking about things."
"What, you can't think and eat at the same time?" Nia sat down next to him, giving him a smirk. Then her eyes widened, seeing the look Rex was giving her. "You – you eat first," she stammered, blushing, but it was too late.
Rex wrapped his arms around her, and she relaxed against him as he gave her a long, lingering kiss. It was a good way of soothing Nia's temper, he had discovered; she couldn't remain mad at him for long after a kiss. A neat trick, Rex thought, as he broke the kiss off, revealing Nia doing her best to glare at him through a blush and a smile she couldn't suppress.
"You think you're so clever," she laughed. "You think I don't know you do that to stop me being angry at you?" She grabbed the bread, and stuffed it in his mouth. "What were you thinking about, anyway?"
Rex took a bite of the bread, chewing for a while. "Well, I talked to Brighid," he said, once he had swallowed. "She doesn't...seem to be taking things too well. She doesn't want to talk about Morag at all."
Nia's face fell, her ears flattening against her head. "Well, at least she talked to you," she murmured. Nia had wanted badly to talk to Brighid. The blue blade had been the first one that Nia had told about being a flesh eater, and had done so much for her besides that. But when Nia had gone to visit her, Brighid had simply stared at the three dark core crystals before her, not responding to anything. And Nia had not wanted to prod her too badly, in the state she was in. If Brighid didn't want to talk about Morag…maybe she just needed some more time before she was ready.
"And….there was something else I was thinking about..." Rex said, licking the crumbs of bread from his fingers. Nia raised her eyebrow; he had finished that astonishingly quick. "I was...thinking of what we should...do next. To find Elysium."
"You….still need to rest, some," Nia said quietly. She felt a knot in her stomach. She thought she knew where this conversation was headed.
"Yeah, but..." Rex paused for a moment. His golden eyes filled Nia's vision. "Eventually...I owe it to people to...try to find Elysium, still. And...to do that...eventually, we're gonna need Malos back."
Nia was quiet for a moment. Then she pushed Rex back onto the bed, forcefully. She wrapped her arms around him as she laid down next to him, her mouth next to his ear. "We'll find a way to do it without him," she whispered.
"I don't think we can..."
Nia growled, and squeezed Rex tightly, fiercely. "I am not – I will never allow him – he hurt you so badly, I won't allow it ever again – you...you're mine, now..."
"He...just did what he thought was necessary," Rex replied quietly. "It's not like he wanted to hurt me."
Why couldn't he just hate Malos now, Nia thought. By all rights, Rex should hate him; the torture the Dark Aegis had put him through, nearly killing him – Rex should hate Malos as much as Nia hated him for that. But no, Rex, damn him, kept making excuses, kept justifying what Malos had done – didn't he see, damn him, that nothing justified what Malos had done – nothing would ever justify nearly killing Rex, wounding him so badly, nothing. She felt Rex squeeze her hand; he must have felt her roiling emotions through the ether bond. "I hope you remember," she hissed, "Your promise to me."
"I do," Rex murmured. "It's just...the world needs Elysium, now more than ever. And...I have to. I owe it to them." He was quiet for a moment. "To all the dead."
"You don't...owe it to anyone," Nia replied. But she knew he was right about one thing. The world did need Elysium. Even here, in peaceful Leftheria...sometimes when she was alone in the forest, she thought she could feel it, dimly. When the wind blew through the shadows of the trees, when she rested among the grass and ponds and streams – even here she thought she could feel it a bit. Alrest was wounded. It was bleeding, and it was dying. It had been before, but the death of Mor Ardain made it obvious. Some wound rent the world. And unless things changed…
There was a part of her that wished that she could simply remain here forever. That they could just remain among Leftheria, and let someone else solve the world's problems. But the greater part of her knew that if the world was to change for the better, she would have to fight for it, alongside Rex, and Tora, and Zeke, and all the others. But still…
"Just a while longer," she said quietly, closing her eyes as she hugged Rex tight. "Just a little while longer."
And the two of them drifted off to sleep like that, laying in each other's arms.
3.
That night, Rex had a strange dream.
He was in a long, endless, darkness, a void that stretched in all directions.
But he was not alone. Surrounding him, by the thousands, tens of thousands, arranged in neat rows, were the ghosts of Mor Ardain. Endless legions of soldiers, their armor gleaming, faces hidden by gas masks. Brionac officers, too, the silver skulls on their caps gleaming in the dark. All the nobles in their fancy dress that he had seen in Mor Ardain's palace, all the industrialists that had been there as well. All simply staring at him, emotionless, in the endless dark.
Rex walked among them, and they parted for him as he passed. He saw a man, an Ardainian soldier, with a wolf-head helm, as he walked among them, the vicious snarl of the decorated helmet seeming like it was ever-ready to leap at him and rip out his throat. And another man, dressed not in armor, but the long black trenchcoat of Brionac's officer corps, winding silver snakes woven into its sleeves, eyes tired and sad in a sunken, skull-like face.
And Sylvie was there, too. The tall, boisterous Urayan who had served Mor Ardain and Brionac, her sea-green hair bound in a tight ponytail. She looked upon Rex with regret, as he passed, but she was as silent as the rest of them. And Niall, too. He was there, in the regal, white robes of the imperial office, wearing a bitter smile as Rex walked by.
Guilt and shame bore down upon Rex as he walked amongst them. He gritted his teeth, feeling a hot tear roll down his cheek. "I'm...I'm sorry," he whispered to them. "I...wanted to help you. I tried. I..."
"...failed," came a voice from the darkness.
Rex blinked. Suddenly, the ghosts of Mor Ardain were gone. He was alone in the dark. Alone, except for a pair of blazing golden eyes, staring out at him from the black.
"Do you want to change the world?" the voice asked.
"Of course," Rex cried, his guilt and shame still a black shard in his heart. "That's….that's why I want to find Elysium."
The voice did not answer for a moment. Those blazing golden eyes drilled into him, unblinking, unwavering. "What makes you think Elysium would change things…?" it asked quietly.
Rex did not answer.
"What makes you think," the voice went on, "That people would not drag their war – their sin – their fallen nature with them, through the very gates of Elysium? It is not the world that is broken. Humanity is."
"No, I don't believe that," Rex muttered, as his head filled with a dark fog. "I...people fight, sure, but if they had enough to prosper, then..."
"You think Alrest has not seen previous ages of prosperity? Wealth and comfort did not save them from their own shattered, ruined nature." The eyes seemed to grow larger, and larger, twin blazing suns of a roiling, molten gold. "Elysium might save people, for a time. And then they would blacken and stain that as well. No, Rex. For the world to change, people must change. Humanity must be made anew. And you are important. You must see how."
Rex clutched his head, as the darkness spun around him, as those golden eyes thrummed with light, and he felt something strange tugging at the core of him, something odd in his soul, and he fell-
Into another dream.
Here, he could remember nothing of who he was, or the world.
He was the mayor of a bountiful, plentiful land, rolling, emerald-green hills with a sparkling blue river running through them, over a community of farmers and their families who lived here.
But the farmers and their families had lived here for generations, and had bitter blood feuds that stretched back centuries. They squabbled, and fought with each other, even murdered each other, no matter how much Rex begged and pleaded with them to stop, no matter how much he tried to show them that if only they could cooperate, they could all live in peace, comfort and plenty. The feuds escalated, to ever greater tragedy and violence – entire families murdered for revenge, fields set on fire, all as Rex begged them to listen to reason.
Until disaster struck.
One year, the land turned black with blight, with rot and decay, spreading outward from the river. The green, rolling plains turned to barren, lifeless plains of dust. Crops failed. Famine struck. People starved, and fought viciously over what little remained. Even now, when cooperation was more important than ever, they still fought.
Rex struggled to rally them all, to try to get them to cooperate to use what little good land they had left wisely, but no matter what he did, the violence continued. Until, eventually, Rex realized the simple truth.
He could not save everyone. Some people would always find a reason for violence, no matter the circumstances.
So he rallied those who were willing to give up their blood feuds, their old grudges – those willing to cooperate in the face of disaster. They worked the land to save themselves, while the others squabbled and died.
And as the years passed, slowly, the farmers who cooperated began to prosper once more, while those who would not suffered and died off. Even in this barren and broken land, they thrived, and they thrived as one people, those who had let go of the past, those who were...worthy.
Until one night, Rex stood by the river that flowed throughout the land, hands on his hips, looking out with satisfaction across the lands. They were split, now, among the farmers who still fought among each other, and died and suffered for it – and the thriving fields and farmhouses of those who had cooperated.
With a grin on his face, he glanced to his side. To a series of large black barrels that stood by the river's bank. With a small hum of satisfaction, he cracked the top off of one of these barrels, revealing the bubbling, deadly poison within, and tipped it into the river. He continued, tipping over each one into the flowing waters. He had not wanted to cause the blight. But it had done well to separate the worthy from the fallen, to -
Something inside him screamed. This wasn't right, he thought. He had...poisoned the land, all to find those...worthy? This was insane, it was monstrous, it -
But those golden eyes flared in his mind, burning away everything, growing larger and larger, until Rex could not think. This was a dream, he thought, a nightmare, he had to wake -
"No, Rex," came the voice again, echoing throughout his mind. "You must learn this lesson well."
4.
Nia found herself in her cabin, again, the one that she visited in her dreams, the one where she would find herself visited by Pyra.
As she had dreamt it, over time, the cabin had become less and less dreamlike. The blurrier features had resolved into sharper focus; the yellow flowers that decorated it seemed crisp and real. Now the dream had enough detail that when she looked outside, out into the emerald, rolling grass plains, she could recognize plant life and trees that she had seen in Leftheria. But this was….different, from Leftheria, in a way. Almost nowhere in Leftheria were you far enough away to escape the gentle hum and cry of seabirds that signified a beach leading out to the Cloud Sea was nearby. Here, there was nothing like that.
But she had become so accustomed to the dream that she could also tell when something was wrong. And there was something wrong now. She couldn't quite place her finger on it. But this normally idyllic cabin….the sunlight drifting in through the window seemed almost dirty. The shadows seemed darker, more malevolent...absurdly, even the flowers seemed to ooze menace, as if they would cut her hands like razors if she reached out to touch their petals.
She was in a bed in the cabin's bedroom, covered in smooth silken sheets. With a start, she realized that for her first time here, she was dreaming of herself as she was in her flesh eater form. But so wicked and menacing seemed the cabin around her, that she hesitated to even move, filled with an almost paralyzing fear.
And then her sharp ears picked it up. The sound of movement from downstairs.
Slowly, cautiously, she sat up in the bed, shrugging the sheets aside, placing her feet on the floor as carefully as she could to not create any sound. She crept, inch by inch, out of the room, into the hallway, her ears straining to pick up any sound. In the hallway, at the top of the stairs, she looked down the carved and aged, dark brown wood of the staircase to where it led into the kitchen.
There, stretching across the tiles, splitting the wall in two, was a shadow, darker than the abyss, the figure of a man etched in darkness. And as she watched, it moved.
She felt her heart leap into her throat. But, she reminded herself, this was a dream. And what was more, it was her dream. She should have no reason to fear. Shouldn't she?
Slowly, making not a sound, she made her way down the stairs, step by excruciatingly cautious step. But it seemed that it did not matter how much she attempted silence. When she was halfway down the stairs, the shadow shifted once more; she froze, but a moment later, a familiar voice called out to her, one that chilled her to the core.
"Hello, Nia."
Plucking up her battered courage, Nia abandoned stealth, and made her way to the kitchen, staring in wonder at the man who stood there.
It was Amalthus.
But for a brief moment, it was not just Amalthus; not the Praetor as he merely was. He did not wear the robes she had last seen him in; the heavy accoutrements of his office, rather, he wore loose, flowing black robes, woven through with gold, with a golden crown shaped like curling horns placed upon his head. But even more than that, Amalthus was something more. It was Amalthus wrapped in shadow, Amalthus as some awful beast, his ungodly eyes shining like twin beacons to hell, and behind him, above him, for miles it seemed, swirled the horrific image of thousands, millions of screaming souls, all reaching desperately for him, their faces contorted in horror and pain-
Nia was only dimly aware that she had backed against the wall, screaming at the sight of him, as...something throbbed from him like a heartbeat, shadow poured like blood from some fresh wound, and as she closed her eyes against the horror visions danced in her head; visions of dying Titans, of endless souls of the faceless dead pouring like a river into the abyss, and all through it some lilting tune rising out among the din of the dead and dying; and that was the most horrifying of all, the tune that filled her with an urge to help in this; to push the souls over the edge, to kill the Titans, so strong and irresistible that she thought her mind might shatter if she tried to fight back.
But this vision, strong as it was, only lasted for a moment before it ended; it was merely Amalthus standing in the kitchen (her kitchen, she thought absurdly), watching her with those curious, weighing eyes as she gasped for breath, slumped down against the wall, sobbing with relief at the end of the vision.
"What the hell was that," Nia snapped, once she had finally regained her composure, steadying herself with a hand on the wall as she struggled to her feet. "What the hell was that!"
Amalthus regarded her coolly for a long moment, as if deciding to answer. "You tell me," he said simply. "This is your dream, isn't it?"
"I don't buy it. I don't buy it for a second that was in my head. This...this is you, somehow, isn't it? You're here...oh, Architect, what are you doing here?"
Amalthus raised an eyebrow at her, and suddenly Nia felt as if that gaze was penetrating to her very bones. "Clever girl," he murmured. Sweeping his dark robes around him, he strode to the center of the kitchen, where a simple wooden table lay, the centerpiece a basket of fruit stacked high, mostly pears (his favorite, echoed a small part of Nia's mind). Pulling out a chair, the Praetor sat, and then motioned for her to do so as well.
A small spark roared to life within her, a dim memory of something forgotten, as if it had happened centuries ago. "No," Nia snapped. "No, I won't sit, I don't want you here."
Amalthus' eyes flared with irritation. "Stubborn thing. I could almost admire your steel. But I don't have the time to remake you just now. You purchased yourself this lesson in pain."
Nia's blood suddenly felt as if it were knives coursing through her veins.
She collapsed to the ground in pain, such unbearable agony, so far beyond anything she thought it was even possible to feel. Her breath was ragged, barely enough for her to shriek; her arms and legs drummed against the tiling, every second an eternity-
Until it was over, and her whole body flooded with relief so strong it almost ached.
"Sit, Nia."
Crying, trembling, wrapping her arms around herself, Nia staggered to the chair, sitting opposite Amalthus, shaking so hard that her teeth rattled. When she looked at Amalthus, his eyes were full of pity and sympathy.
"I prefer not to do that," he said simply. "You may not be human, but I prefer not to use cruelty as a method even so. But I will leave behind the memory of that pain. Things will go much more easily for the both of us, Nia, if you simply obey. You will find I will not ask much of you."
Nia was disgusted. Disgusted at the sincere pity in his voice, in his eyes. But most of all, disgusted with the small part of herself that had tasted that pain and thought he was being kind and reasonable. "What are you?" she asked, gripping the edge of the table with her still-shaking hands. "You...you're not human. You can't be. What in the world are you?"
Amalthus considered this for a moment. "You might consider me," he said softly, "the acting god of this world."
Nia's heart howled with fear as Amalthus gazed down at her. He was mad. "You think you're a god…?" she choked out.
His eyes grew before her, depths unfolding, a darkness so deep lying within them that it made the man himself seem monumental; Nia was reminded that whatever else, Amalthus was ancient, that the brief flicker of her lifespan was nothing compared to the long centuries he had lived. That depth, the sheer size of it, mocked her doubt – of course he was, why would she think otherwise? He was more than she was, more than Rex was, for that matter; more than any mortal living could be, more than entire nations. This was the man who had climbed the World Tree alone; the man who had started the Aegis war, the man who willed himself ruler of now the most powerful nation on Alrest; what was that, if not a god? More than any other man, she realized, the world danced to the tune of Amalthus' regrets.
"By necessity, rather than by choice," he mused, his words carrying all the weight of prophecy etched in stone. "Divinity is, after all, what you make of it. You think I am mad; no matter. I hold no illusions about the limits of my power, girl. Even gods may die. This is why Rex is so important. I admire him, you know. So young, and yet he has already begun to glimpse the truth of the nature of this world. But he sees but a slim fraction of it; it is my duty as the more experienced Master Driver to share my wisdom with him. Don't worry. I am teaching him."
And beneath his words, Nia could hear a primal growl, a howl of something sick from the abyss within him, something clawed and fanged, something thirsty to tear and shatter. "No," she whispered. "No, you stay away from him-"
"No," Amalthus replied with utter finality. And with it, Nia heard a claim stronger than even Malos had made on Rex. Malos had thought he had a hold on Rex by oath; Amalthus held a claim by inherent right, and there would be nothing in him that would brook argument or defiance; she might as well try to argue against gravity or the flow of time itself. "Now, Nia. I do not visit you for mere trivialities. I visit you because of your bond with Rex, and your defiance of his destiny."
"His destiny….?"
"As Driver of the Aegis. No corner of your mind is hidden from me. It is your nature as a blade. You think to keep him apart from Malos, and I am here to tell you that when the time comes you will set aside your petty grievances and not stand in the way of their reunion."
Defiance flared within Nia once more at that, though she could feel it weaker now, smothered by the ineffable will and presence of Amalthus. "No!" she cried. "He nearly killed Rex! I won't stand by and-"
Amalthus' eyes flared with rage; he bought his fist down upon the table, rattling it, and Nia's protests died with a whimper as she trembled in fear. "Enough," he hissed. "My mercy has its limits. And yes, Nia, I am giving you mercy. Do you understand the power I hold over you? I could reshape you, if I so willed it – I could take from you your love for Rex. I could weave your mind, foolish little blade, so that tomorrow you would wake up with nothing but hatred in your heart for him. Or I could make you feel so much pain that what you experienced earlier would seem like nothing but a gentle rain. Instead, I will merely give you an order, one you will obey. Do not defy me, blade, or I will resort to other methods. Do you understand?"
Nia understood perfectly. She had felt her heart freeze with fear when he spoke. Not merely the threat of pain – but much more than that, the threat that Amalthus might change her as he saw fit. For some reason, there was no doubt in her that he could do just that. He really was, as he saw it, being kind. She hated him for that, even more than the threats themselves – the sheer control he had over her. The totality of his power made of him a monster, much more so than Malos, who could at least have been reasoned with. She wanted to fight, but there was no fighting him. Even a breath of defiance might mean the most precious things in the world to her being torn away. Nothing to do but to submit. "Yes," she replied meekly, looking down at the table. "Yes. I understand."
Amalthus settled back in his chair, the flames dancing behind his eyes dying away. He opened his mouth to speak – but was interrupted by a sudden rapping at the door of the cabin. Both he and Nia glanced at the worn wooden door in surprise. "Expecting visitors?" he whispered, coolly. But he did not wait for an answer. Instead, he did something very strange. He reached up, into the air...but almost as if his hand was reaching at a different angle to everything else, reaching through reality, and then he twisted something, and -
Nia cried out, clutching her head as her blurred before her, faded, became a shadow on the wall, as her mind flooded with fog and static, as the previous conversation scrambled in her mind – who had she been talking to? What was happening? It was so hard to think – why could she not focus on anything?
The knock at the door came...again? Had there been a knock before? How had she gotten here? Nia slowly got up from the chair, her legs feeling weak beneath her, and unsteadily made her way to the door.
And when she opened it, there, beneath a sky that had begun to darken with stormclouds, stood Pyra.
Nia gasped, stumbling backwards, as Pyra stepped forward, reaching out toward her. She...looked she never had before. Wreathed in flame, as if she barely could contain her power any longer; her hair floated wildly on a haze of heat. But more than that, her face – she looked...she looked insane, Nia realized. Broken. Whatever calm demeanor she had hidden beneath before, the tired detachment and depression, it had given way to something much more unsettling. Frantic despair, something that made fear lance through Nia's heart, realizing that she simply could not predict how Pyra might react to anything.
"Please," the Aegis was saying. "I just want to say I'm sorry. Please, please-"
The adrenaline rushing through Nia's veins cleared the fog from her head; with a yell, she summoned her long, thin blade to her hand, pointing it at Pyra's chest. "Stay back," she snapped. "Stay back – in fact, get out. I don't want to hear a single word from you."
Tears like lava dripped down Pyra's face, and the heat radiating from her began to char and ignite the door frame in which she stood. Her form blurred, becoming indistinct, turning her into a pillar of flame that licked at the ceiling, as if she were having trouble keeping her form together. "All I ever wanted to do was to make it stop," she said, her voice flickering back and forth from a whisper to a hissing roar as the flames pulsed from her. "I...I have no one left to talk to. No one to voice my doubts to. Jin...he would never understand doubt, not now. Please..."
Nia opened her mouth to answer Pyra, but suddenly the Aegis' eyes shot open wide with terror. "Wait," Pyra said. "Something...something's wrong-"
She spun around, to look out across the grassy field in which the cottage lay. As they had talked, the stormclouds had blackened the sky, casting long shadows across the field. And as Pyra gazed up into that darkened sky, the stormclouds twisted, gathering, taking shape. Into something with great, monumental wings of dark smoke, large as a mountain, with clawed talons and teeth the size of houses, something with two glowing golden eyes, burning like pale moonlight reflecting off burnished gold, eyes that fixed on the Aegis like a predator regarding its prey.
"No," Pyra whispered, her knees giving out beneath her.
The beast, falling down from the sky, unfurled its wings; a wind like a hurricane ripped through the field; then like a tornado, tearing first trees, and then the ground itself, and then all reality – the idyllic land before them broke, shattered, the cabin around them tearing itself apart, crumbling into a dark void, and it began to dive, dive towards them, growing larger and larger, impossibly large, larger than a Titan, larger than the world.
"He's here," Pyra moaned, looking back at Nia with wild eyes. "Why didn't you tell me...when did he…"
And then the beast opened its mouth, but what came from it was not a roar – instead it was the ceaseless, ending thrumming of bells, tolling like a heartbeat, a thousand bells, roaring through them, chiming at their very core, an alien tune, chiming in the victory of something vast and inexplicable, and those wild golden eyes burned so bright that they seemed like twin suns.
Nia was only vaguely aware of Pyra shrieking in panic, only vaguely registering the fact that the Aegis reached out with a hand that danced with white-hot flame and...tore a hole in the air, a hole that she desperately was trying to make her way through, for while those bells were alien, there was something about them that seemed so familiar.
She stood transfixed, oddly unafraid, looking up into the sky, as the beast grew and grew to fill it, diving toward her, and those bells chimed through her. She could barely think for all the noise, but she recognized the feeling it instilled in her. The feeling she got whenever she saw a wound, that it was simply something wrong in the world. Here, it was as if the wound was alive, alive and intelligent, an alien mind full of a thousand layers of madness, and so large, so utter that it might turn the whole world into a wound. But still, it was nothing to fear. Though she felt like a small candle next to its vastness, though it crooned its alien song of victory, it was simply a mistake to be corrected and nothing more.
She raised her hand, and healing flowed forth from it. It wasn't like her normal method of healing, so attuned to biological reality. This was something more...fundamental. She felt power drawing as if from some deep, bottomless well of sunlight connected deep within her, gentle golden light radiating out from her hand.
And as the beast crashed into them, enveloping the entire world in darkness, it….stopped.
Nia and Pyra were alone, surrounded by the swirling darkness, but it stopped at the edge of the golden light radiating from Nia's hand, melting away like smoke in a small circle, as far as the light touched.
Pyra looked at this in surprise, then up at Nia with eyes wide. But she did not wait. She took the opportunity to dive through the hole she had burned in the air, and behind her, with a flash and a flicker of curling smoke, the hole burned itself up.
Nia was alone, now, in the darkness held back by the small circle of golden light.
As she watched, two golden eyes appeared in that darkness; no longer the size of the beast's, but rather the size of a man's eyes, regarding her not with malevolence, but curiousity. Shadows pushed against the circle of light, as if probing. The golden eyes bored into her, filling her soul with the sound of chiming bells, curious, implacable, twin burning beacons, absolute and inevitable...
Nia didn't know what those eyes belonged to; she didn't know what this beast was in her dreams, her thoughts were still a fog. Still, she took a cautious step forward.
And for the briefest of moments, those golden, dread eyes widened; for the briefest of moments, for all their weight and power, she saw the smallest glimmer of fear in them as they retreated before the moving edge of the light.
And she could sense something there; something out in the darkness, beneath the wound that would swallow the world; a mind, a soul, almost like she might sense through an ether connection. A mind of vast, incredible complexity, a mind most unlike she had felt through her father's connection, or through Rex's connection, a mind and a soul like a labyrinth, carved over long years; a mind that you could wander in for years and never even experience a fraction of the memories it contained or the emotions it held, and somewhere, deep within that maze, she could sense...no, it couldn't be. Something like that couldn't be at the heart of this beast.
She looked out into the darkness, into those burning golden eyes, her thoughts in such a fog that she could barely remember who she was. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she looked into those raging , endless eyes and she felt her heart breaking from what she had seen in its soul. "Oh," she whispered, "What have you done to yourself…?"
The golden eyes widened in shock, and then flared, the shadows boiled, bells drowned out her every thought, and….
Nia woke, gently, in the still dark of the night, in Rex's bed, her arms wrapped tightly around him as his chest rose and fell in the slow, even breath of sleep, her head against his chest, listening to the dull, faint sound of his heartbeat. She smiled to herself, noticing that a golden cord stretched from her to Rex, an ether bond having formed in their sleep.
Whatever dream she had woken from, it had left her feeling drained. She remembered little of it, and what memories she did have – a pair of brilliant, golden eyes in the dark – were quickly fading away. But it left her with a knot in her chest. Not as if she had woken from a nightmare. But as if before she had woken, she had felt a great, rending pity and sorrow.
5.
Tora strolled along the beaches of Leftheria in the pale moonlight, munching idly on a sausage, his dark eyes scanning the darkness as he walked along. Poppi strolled by his side, humming softly to herself, her eyes twin flashlights stabbing out at the night, as they walked among the sand.
Normally, Tora would be well asleep by this hour. But...he found that he couldn't sleep, not lately. His mind burned with too many ideas for upgrades to Poppi. Ever since the day Mor Ardain had fallen, and Rex-Rex had nearly died…
Tora shook his head. Watching Mor Ardain burn...it had been such a damn shame. For a country with so many clever people, making such clever machines, to be lost forever. As lost as Mor Ardain had become...it was still such a shame to see so much progress lost. True, their technology could not compare to that of Tora's family, but they had been the center of scientific and engineering prowess on Alrest. So much had been lost with them. So much that would never come back.
And, Tora had realized, watching Malos and Mythra fight, watching as it nearly killed Rex-Rex, as Nia howled for mercy – they needed his help. More than ever, they needed Poppi and Tora to be able to fight alongside them. Poor Morag had gone and disappeared, and Rex-Rex himself had almost died, and who knew what was going to happen with Malos…
It was up to him, Tora realized, to start pulling more of his weight for the team. He wasn't going to let it happen, he decided. He wasn't going to let something like Mor Ardain happen ever again. He wasn't going to let Rex-Rex kill himself to stop Mythra. And if that meant he needed to build Poppi into something capable of defying Mythra herself, well – that was what his goal was. It was just an engineering challenge, really. He thought he could do it. Hundreds of ideas burned through his mind, keeping him up at night – he had already filled five notebooks full of equations, charts, and diagrams on his planned upgrades.
It wasn't going to happen. Rex-Rex was going to live, and no Titans would ever sink again, because Tora was going to give them something as strong as another Aegis to stand beside them. After all, he couldn't let his debtors go dying on him, could he? He'd never be able to collect, then.
But still, he needed supplies. That was why he walked the beaches with Poppi, now. So many interesting things washed up on the beaches of Leftheria. He didn't think he'd be able to get everything he needed this way, but certainly some scrap to test out his more recent ideas before implementing them in Poppi. Perhaps he could get Rex-Rex to salvage for him, as well. Perhaps-
"Masterpon, look!" Poppi cried suddenly, the light from her eyes settling on a shadowy hulk lying on the beach before them.
Tora and Poppi rushed over, revealing, of all things, a wrecked Indoline ship, its white, pearly hull cracked and torn. It was not a large ship – perhaps it had served as a personal transport vessel – but still, Tora danced with glee. "What a find!" he burbled, retrieving a wrench from his overalls. "Poppi has done very well! Hopefully engines still intact. Wonder what Indol ship is doing here, though?" He shook his head as he swiftly removed a panel from the side of the wreck, and began tearing through the piping and wires that made up its guts. "Ugh. So primitive. Still, piping can be repurposed for-"
"Oh, thank goodness," came a weak, whispering voice from behind them.
Poppi and Tora spun around.
Before them stood an Indoline priestess, in long, flowing white robes, though these were torn and tattered. Long, dark red hair spilled down her shoulders, past her waist. She coughed, as she approached them, her blue scales gleaming in the light cast by Poppi's eyes.
"Who...who are you…?" Tora asked, bouncing back a bit, as Poppi raised her fists beside him.
The priestess stumbled as she moved forward, reaching out with a hand tipped with black nails towards him. "I...I am Armalia, diplomat of Indol, and...my ship crashed, and..." she put a hand to her head, tottering before them. "I need help, please..."
And with that, she crashed to the ground before them, settling unconscious into the sand.