Alexander The Great

by Emerald Viper

This is the story of a Dawn Caste Solar.

4. Chapter 3 - Art and Warfare

Chapter 3 -Art and Warfare

After Jaret's funeral, I hoped to be sent back to Mnemon Rai immediately, but my Aunt Garel fell ill and decided that I should care for her. What was originally a delay of some months lengthened into nearly ten years as my aunt recovered and worsened more times than I could count. I often wondered if I would be sitting at her bedside helping her page through old books for the rest of my insignificant life.

Though he understood familial duties as well as any Dynast, Mnemon Rai was unwilling to count me as a permanent loss. He found work for me to do on the Blessed Isle, the sort that he personally detested. I became his political liaison in certain circles, helping him to recruit and train young officers with skill and potential. While many Dragonblooded scoffed at being asked to deal with a mere mortal on equal terms, very few were willing to provoke Mnemon Rai… or my father, for that matter.

My father was very pleased to have me assume the duties of managing our House so that he could focus on his Scarlet Legion and my stepmother could continue to dabble in politics as she preferred to. I became the master of all the servants, in charge of the monthly expenses, and the disciplinarian of the children. Of course, all of that was in addition to fulfilling my role as Mnemon Rai's chief secretary.

I applied myself diligently. Since I was not a "Prince of the Earth", I was so far beneath notice that no one, not even the members of my own family seemed to remember what year I had been born in. Of course, that was to my benefit… it kept them from asking why I had not aged noticeably since Jaret's death.

One might wonder how was I able to avoid being detected for so long. For the most part, it was very easy not to show the world something I did not want to believe in myself. I was able to avoid particularly tense situations because I was not a Dragonblood. My House never needed me for anything overtly political, and the Exaltation of my young cousin Teric gave my father someone else to train as his heir.

At first, I simply filled my schedule with perpetuating domestic harmony and sifting through mountains of paperwork for my commander, but it was not long before those simple tasks left me feeling bored, anxious and irritable. I took up playing Gateway, a popular game in the Imperial City and saw in it an outlet for my burning desire to think strategically. Most famously, I beat Ledaal Kes in a match which left him sore and fuming for several months. How could a mere mortal have bested him at a game which he considered himself to be the unparalleled champion of?

Now I suspect he probably knows.

Following my Aunt Garel's death, I began to read my way through her entire voluminous library. As my knowledge increased, I augmented the usual training regime of would-be Winds. Impressed with the quality of the recruits I regularly turned out, numerous officers from other Legions requested that I come to drill their soldiers.

I took on as many styles of martial arts as I could fit into my already complicated schedule, begging lessons from the most exclusive and demanding instructors at Paisap's Stair. After effortlessly whipping two impatient young Dragonblooded in a demonstration match, I realized that if I did not want to draw unwanted attention to myself, I would have to start being very careful.

I asked my father if I could have the use of his old hunting lodge, located on a lake some miles north of the Imperial City. I told him that I wished to meditate and could not do so at home. Smiling slightly, he called me by my old nickname, "Little Monk", and told me to go "refresh my spirit", provided that I promised to return before the entirety of our House fell into chaos. With forty-three relatives and all of their respective servants living virtually on top of one another within the confines of those walls, I knew that I had less than a week.

Still, my first trip to my father's hunting lodge went far better than I'd ever hoped it might. In that place of solitude, I found that I was able to train as I preferred to, brutally. I was no longer compelled to intentionally miss the target when I shot my bow, or to feign exhaustion when I had only just begun to run. There was no one to tell me what I could not do or what I should not be capable of. I was my own master.

Practising my sword forms in my father's rock garden with only the rhythmic sound of the water clock to pass the time, I was more at peace than I had been in all the years since my brother's death. Training hard enough to sweat was the only thing that quieted my thoughts, my real meditation. The frightening thing was, the more I trained, the more quickly I exceeded all the limitations that I'd ever believed I had.

Roach, who was still technically my "student" became increasingly annoyed with me as my private retreats became more frequent than his lessons. He chafed at being left alone in the hostile quarters of House Cathak where he was treated as a sort of unwelcome pet. I trusted Roach more than I trusted most of my relatives, but every time I considered telling him my secret, a sick feeling welled up in my gut and I remembered my brother running his blade through me.

It became so that I spent the first week of every month at Paisap's Stair scouting for Mnemon Rai, the two middling weeks running my father's household and last week alone up at the lake.

When I was certain that no one was following me to my retreat, I began to attempt exercises far more daring than cleaving down rattan targets while blindfolded. Though I still somewhat believed that I was damned, any student of martial arts knows that only a fool carries a weapon he cannot wield. A dagger that a man cannot properly use is all too quickly turned against him... and how much worse would it be for me if I could not control the enormous power that I possessed?

I decided to experiment with my Essence. I had my dreams for guidance and I had secretly listened in on many lectures given by Ledaal Tsumi, a well-known master of the Water Dragon style. Once I understood that Essence could not only burn, it could flow… I instinctively understood how to improve my training.

The results of my first few ignorant attempts left me questioning if there could be something wrong with the world I lived in, if people were mistaken about the power wielded by the Anathema. I had always been told that it was demon-born, dark and uncontrollable… but to me it felt very different, as pure as a sutra on the lips of a saint.

I discovered that I could jump huge distances and I found myself a mountaintop perch on the far eastern side of the lake. I began going there every morning before dawn. If the God of the Sun knew that I was waiting to hear from him, he gave no sign of it. My meditations did not help me to find the answers to any of my questions either, but the transcendent beauty of that place left me compelled to return. I sought inside myself the stillness of the lake, and let my ancient dreams take me away.

On the tenth anniversary of Jaret's death, I emerged from my morning meditations shaking so badly that I could barely stand. It was still very early and there was a heaviness in the air that made me expect rain. As fast as I could, I made my way down the mountain and through the woods to the back door of my father's hunting lodge. I splashed my face several times with the green water from the rain barrel near the door and then stumbled into the dark kitchen like a drunkard, not bothering to light a lamp. I didn't need one.

Because I had used it so freely, the Essence all around me was flaring bright as day. Brighter, given the clouds gathering overhead. As the sun had cleared the mountains on the horizon line and pierced the morning fog, one of my pressing questions had been finally been answered. I knew what had happened to my past self.

I had always known that the Dragonblooded had once served the Anathema. Their revolt against tyranny was the very cornerstone that the Realm was built upon. But nothing could have prepared me for the experience of witnessing that rebellion from the opposing side, the horror I felt in seeing my friends killed and my home burning to the ground. What the Dragonblooded had done was far worse than salting the earth… it was absolute desecration, akin to painting a temple with blood.

The Realm had to call us demons! They had to turn people against us while we were still weak, and kill us all before we regained the strength that we had once possessed! For many centuries, it had been their greatest fear that we would return… and that we would remember! And what hope did the "Princes of the Earth" have against the rightful Lords of all Creation?

The sickness that welled up inside of me, knowing that the beautiful world I had seen in my dreams had been destroyed by the heroes of my childhood was too much to bear. I wanted nothing more than to run to the nearest Immaculate Monastery and tear everything off of the walls! Was everything that I had ever believed nothing more than a pack of lies?

"Hello?" A familiar voice wondered. "Cousin? Loren? You in there?"

I froze. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my cousin Teric and friend of his standing in the doorway of the hunting lodge. They were carrying their bows and enough supplies for a weekend trip.

"Hunh. Guess he must be out." Teric observed, stepping inside.

"Your cousin lives up here all alone?" His friend inquired. She was clearly a Wood-Aspect with a nose that made me suspect House Sesus.

"On and off. He used to be a soldier, but he lost his nerve after his brother was killed. Now he runs our servants around and spends the rest of his time hiding from the world. Uncle Chiron basically gave him this house." Teric explained. "Which is a bit stupid, because you know… I asked for it first. And Uncle told me 'no'."

I'd never guessed that Teric had been so interested in my father's lodge and was secretly pleased that my father had withheld it from him. "Loren's useless! He's just a mortal… he'll be dead in twenty years! I don't know why everybody is so soft on him!" Teric snorted.

"I think it's because he's nice. And you know, you're a jerk." The girl teased, elbowing Teric.

"Look at all of these broken swords! What has he been doing?" She approached the table, observing my stack of books. "Advanced Military Engineering? Famous Generals of the Early Shogunate? That's some light reading, eh? Who does he think he is, Cathak himself?"

Teric didn't reply. He was staring directly at me, as if he could see through the walls to the spot where I hid. I flattened myself against the door and prayed that he hadn't used a Charm to detect my presence, though it was obvious that he'd noticed something. "Shh!" He hissed. "Someone's in the house!"

"Your cousin? The one who lives here?" The girl suggested, elbowing Teric playfully.

"No, it can't be! Whoever it is, they've been burning Essence. A lot of it." Teric paused, sounding very apprehensive. He paused momentarily. "Kira, your necklace is glowing."

"Hunh? Oh, so it is!" She observed, holding up the little piece of golden stone. "That's weird, it's never done that before. I guess it actually... works." She suddenly gasped. "Teric! This is bad!"

"What does it do?" Teric wondered uneasily.

"My grandmother says that it detects Anathema." Kira replied.

"Anathema?" Teric blinked in disbelief.

I didn't need to hear that word twice. I bolted out the back entrance, accidentally throwing the door off of its hinges as I fled. The sickness I had felt only moments before evaporated like dew and I became a hunted animal, as certain of my evil nature as I had been of my innocence.

Anathema. Monster.

I could hear Teric and Kira following after me, but they were far enough behind that I was sure they couldn't see anything more than a golden light blazing through the forest. An arrow laced with fire came within inches of my shoulder as I raced towards the river gorge. Without hesitation, I leapt the waterfall in a single bound and kept running.

Teric and Kira skidded to a stop on the edge of the cliff.

"Did you see that? That… that was a demon! A real demon, here on the Blessed Isle! I… I've got to warn my uncle!" Teric stammered.

"What about your cousin?" Kira demanded.

"Forget him, he's probably dead!" The last thing I heard from Teric was a string of unintelligible curse words. When I was sure that I was no longer being followed, I sat down and attempted to compose myself until I stopped burning like a bonfire.

It took me several hours to muster up enough courage to return to the Imperial City. The sun had nearly gone down and I was no longer glowing when I arrived, but I still felt that I was very close to revealing my terrible secret and feared that someone would sense all the Essence I had used in my escape, just as Teric had. I had never heard of a stone that could detect Anathema before, but it made sense that if such a thing existed, someone from House Sesus would know about it. So many of their children went to study sorcery at the Heptagram in lieu of military school. My father did not trust sorcerers, and even being an "Anathema" myself, I was still inclined to believe that most people who invested so much in something so capricious were up to no good.

I tried to head directly for the port where I might find a ship to steal away on, hoping not to see anyone I knew and not really caring where I found myself, so long as it was as far from my home as possible. I almost jumped out of my skin as I passed Roach and some of the Winds drinking at the local tavern.

"Boss!" Roach exclaimed. The men jumped to their feet and saluted. Though I hadn't left the Imperial City in years, Mnemon Rai had long since named me to Fanglord and I officially commanded all the Winds who were on the Blessed Isle, regardless of whether they were serving in an administrative capacity, on leave, or in training. Though I preferred not to lord my status over anyone, I was one promotion short of Talonlord, the highest rank a mortal could hold.

No one seemed surprised to see me dressed simply in my monkish training clothes and not my official lamellar armor.

"C'mon, drink with us!" One of the soldiers gestured to an empty chair. "We were just talking about Chiarascuro. You've been there, haven't you, sir? You know all about the hungry ghosts and the salt lines I bet."

I nodded. Roach grinned proudly. I could tell he'd been sharing stories of our great "adventures" again. He was a substantial part of the reason that my reputation was as overblown as it was.

"Well, we just got back. Hot as hell there this time of year. Killed ourselves another Anathema. This one was a big ol' bull, one of the Frenzied with half an army of crazy cultists! They must have known they couldn't win, but they charged us anyway. Cut through the rest quick enough, but the Anathema was unstoppable! Now it may be heresy to say so, but it was amazing, like nothin' I'd ever seen! Old Thunderstormer put em' down." The soldier grinned broadly. "Good fight. You should've been there."

I forced a weak smile.

"Anyway, take a look at this! Found it out in the desert." He pulled something wrapped in a handkerchief out of his satchel and held it up for my examination. It was a golden ball the size of my fist.

"It's orichalcum." He informed me. "It looks like gold, but it's heavier than lead and harder than steel. The Anathema used to make everything out of it, but the only place you'll see it around here is The Heptagram."

His companion snorted with distaste.

"Go on, sir! Have a look!" He rolled the ball across the table in my direction. I picked it up effortlessly with one hand and the men blinked in surprise. I realized belatedly that it was probably very heavy but did not bother to wince. Most of the soldiers in the Winds already thought that I was ridiculously strong.

Of course, they had no idea.

I slowly ran my fingers across the nearly invisible designs etched into the smooth surface of the ball. Though I had never touched such a thing in my present life, the way the metal responded to my touch was unmistakable. It was orichalcum!

"You picked up some Anathema junk?" Roach raised an eyebrow at the soldier. "You do realize that you shouldn't do that, right?"

"It's just a hunk of metal." The soldier responded.

"Old Thunderstormer won't like it." Roach informed him.

I said nothing. Still feeling the effects of my long meditation, I recognized that I was actually holding a physical object that had survived from the long-ago First Age, the days of the Solar Deliberative. The word "Anathema" did not even occur to me. It rang unusually harsh and false on my ears as Roach spoke it. I was lost in the past, staring at that relic of a world gone from memory. I unthinkingly fueled the ball with some Essence and smiled slightly as it responded. It started to feel warm and light in my grasp, less like a cannonball and more like a child's plaything.

In a sputter of golden light, the ball unfolded into a delicate little flying contraption. It looked like an insect, and it hovered for a moment just above my head, evaluating me with interest.

"Whoa!" Roach exclaimed. A familiar sensation made me worry that I had revealed myself, but even if the mark on my brow was almost visible, the bug that I'd awakened was impossible to ignore. Golden Essence bled from the creature as it shot into a violent upward spiral. The men who'd brought the thing were as surprised as I was and they immediately dropped to the ground. Roach drew his sword.

When the bug had gone up about a hundred feet, it froze in midair and then suddenly dropped, zooming across our table like an out-of-control firework. All of our drinks shattered, and a waitress shrieked in terror as the thing shot in her direction. I decided to stop it and leapt in front of the poor girl, but what I hadn't anticipated was the speed at which the bug was flying. It took me straight into the wall and then exploded in my face. The force was enough to stun me, which meant that it might have killed someone else.

The soldiers all gathered around me and stared in disbelief.

"This." I slowly rose to my feet and dropped the burnt-out core of the bug in front of the man who'd first thrown it to me. It hit the table with a heavy clunk. "Is exactly why you don't bring home souvenirs!"

"I'm sorry. Very sorry, sir. It'll never happen again, sir!" He looked embarrassed and bowed more than once.

I excused myself. Though I'd been in a hurry to escape the Blessed Isle a few hours ago, I'd decided that I couldn't go anywhere in my current condition. At very least, I needed to wash the soot off my face and change my clothes.

I didn't stop walking until I made it home, slipped through the gates of Aunt Garel's neglected garden and collapsed into the soft grass near the koi pond. A shower of cherry blossoms brought me back, not to the familiar days of my childhood, but to an afternoon many centuries ago when Amira and I had danced together.

The lines between my dreams and my reality were blurring. I was beginning to think like a demon, to do things that would prove what I was without even considering the consequences! And I knew with sick certainty that it was only a matter of time before I would be detected.

Some hours later, I returned to the main house. The first thing I learned was that a letter had arrived for me. My father was reading it when I stepped into his library, a very grave expression on his face. I knew that I had beaten my cousin and his friend back to the city but I still expected them to come charging in at any moment with their tale of my disappearance and the terrible Anathema they'd stumbled upon.

"Loren? I didn't expect to see you for another two days." He observed.

"I left early this morning. There's a thief poking around your hunting lodge." I paused. "Things have disappeared. At first I thought it was animals, stealing food… but then some of my clothes went missing off of the laundry line. I thought you should know." The lie was surprisingly easy to swallow. When my cousin and his friend returned, their story would corroborate my own. Though I hated deceiving my father, I was not in a hurry to be hunted down and executed.

"Heh. Taught the villain a lesson, I hope." He replied.

"I haven't caught him yet." I sighed, doing my best to sound defeated.

"Well, perhaps your cousin Teric will have better luck. He's gone hunting for a few days. I don't know how you missed him on the road." My father nodded.

"I've no idea. Maybe he passed me when I stopped to rest?" I suggested. "So what is this letter about?" I wondered.

"Well, I wasn't going to disturb your meditation with it, but I suppose you have a right to know. Rai Jin thinks he's tracked down the fae that killed Jaret. The spider woman you described. He wants you to board the first available ship for The Scavenger Lands."

"The Winglord has asked for me personally? To come hunt her down? I'd be very glad to do that." I paused, knowing that things were certainly more complicated than my father was making them sound.

"Well, apparently he's also had some trouble with Sesus Calil that he wants you to settle." My father admitted. Of course, he wouldn't forbid me from taking revenge on the monsters that had murdered my brother, but I could tell from the expression on his face that he would prefer it if I continued working for Mnemon Rai in a bureaucratic capacity.

"I'm no one. Why should I get between two Princes of the Earth?" I demanded.

"Because we both know, Loren… that the only thing those two men have in common is a peculiar respect for you. Somehow you have the most decorated demon-hunter in the Realm wrapped around your little finger! Rai Jin has written me a dozen letters demanding that you be returned to the field as soon as possible because without you… he thinks his entire Wing will rise up and trample him!" My father laughed. "Hesiesh as my witness, I shudder to think of what you might have been, were you only better bred!"

It was meant to be a compliment, and so I decided to take it as such.

"I suppose I'll be going then." I decided.

My father smiled slightly. "I've already taken the liberty of packing your things."

Several hours after I'd received the letter from Mnemon Rai, Roach staggered into my room, drunk and grinning like a madman. He'd been complaining about provincial soldiering for years, arguing that nothing worthwhile ever happened so close to the Imperial City. All things considered, I was beginning to agree with him.

With my father's help, I sent out orders to every member of the Winds currently stationed on the Blessed Isle. I almost lost my wits when my cousin Teric returned home with news of the Anathema he'd seen, but my father didn't take him seriously at all. He simply informed Teric that if he had seen a real demon, it would not have run away from him... and Teric meekly returned to work.

Less than two weeks later, five-hundred and fifty soldiers met me on the docks as I prepared to depart for Nexus myself.

According to Mnemon Rai, the Winds had split into two Talons, one under his command and the other under the command of Sesus Calil. Talonlord Calil had recruited most of the higher-ranking Dragonblooded officers to his side, promising them better pay and quicker promotions. Of course, Mnemon Rai had retained nearly all of his enlisted men, particularly the veterans of many years and the newest recruits I'd sent his way. Desperate to reunify The Winds, Mnemon Rai planned to send me as an emissary to Calil's camp. In addition, he promised me a promotion that I'd never dared imagine. Talonlord Calil would retain his position if he could be persuaded to rejoin the Winds, but from the moment I landed in Nexus, I would be acting as Mnemon Rai's first officer.

Roach and I arrived with a full Talon of soldiers, a thing which made me feel deserving of the new insignia on my uniform. In an impossibly short time, I'd pulled together men and women from every corner of the Blessed Isle, commandeered ships, and acquired supplies. I wasn't going to admit to Mnemon Rai how I'd actually accomplished such a feat, but I had a feeling that he'd appreciate the results I'd produced, if not my methods.

Over the course of my secret training, I'd discovered that the Essence I possessed could be used for much more than simply making light or augmenting my martial skills. A small, subtle application of power could also make ordinary words extraordinarily intimidating or convince people to work quickly and efficiently. The former was particularly useful on stubborn Dragonbloods, the latter on everyone else.

Our soldiers camped outside the city while Roach and I were received again by my cousin Lao, the same relative whose mining enterprises had been destroyed by the fae at the time of Jaret's death. Though himself Exalted, Lao had never cared for the usual duties of a Dynast, military or politics, and had spent the better part of his hundred and forty years building up various investments which funneled a great deal of money into the coffers of House Cathak. He lived quite sumptuously in a residence on Sentinel Hill and provided Roach and myself with everything we needed to embark upon the next leg of our journey.

Since time was short, Roach and I would not stay in Nexus for long, but before we rode out to join Mnemon Rai, I needed to "recover" from our long sea voyage. Most of our soldiers were glad to have a few days rest as well. Some of the younger ones had been seasick since we left the Imperial City. I'd also discovered that feigning "mortal weakness" myself was the best way to hide the fact that I'd burned a significant amount of Essence speeding our arrival, securing our provisions, and ensuring that we didn't run into any snares with the local authorities. Even Lao grudgingly admitted that he'd heard good things about me.

During my first visit to Nexus, I'd been serving as Jaret's keeper, and my second visit had been darkened by the circumstances of his death. Seeing the city again felt like visiting it for the first time, and I found it exceptionally exciting. Unlike the Imperial City, where Dragonblooded were always given special treatment, Nexus was a cornucopia of Exalts and God-bloods, restless spirits, and fae-tainted wanderers. A dozen tiny, pale Djala, two Haltans with exotic birds perched on their shoulders, and one particularly big, dark-skinned Southerner caught my eye as I watched the teeming crowds of the Big Market.

In that vast sea of humanity, was it possible that someone carried the same secret that I did? My first suspect was a Djala acrobat who was performing a fine balancing routine on a slack rope. But then again, what about that huge Southerner who was leading a string of cattle towards the Brood Market? On the street corner across from him was a well-dressed merchant with the frosty complexion and blue hair that one would normally associate with an Air-Aspect Exalt. In the past I had been mistaken for a Fire-Aspect myself. Perhaps none of them were what they seemed to be? Roach took in the scenery as I did, though he could not have known what thoughts were whirling through my head.

Not knowing what possessed me to walk in the direction I chose, I led the way towards Glassmaker's Alley. Roach followed close behind me. There was a crowd gathering on the street between two bridges and I was curious to see what they were staring at. If any of the local mercenaries had looked closely enough to see that I was dressed in Imperial lamellar, they probably would have given me a headache… but fortunately, whatever it was that had "appeared" at the end of Glassmaker's Alley seemed to have the undivided attention of the neighborhood.

"Excuse me, sir!" I tapped on the shoulder of the man nearest to me, a fat old merchant who jumped with a start. "What's going on up ahead?"

"You haven't seen?" He wondered incredulously.

"Obviously not. That's why I'm asking." I replied.

"It's a miracle, that's what it is! The Immaculates are blaming it all on us but I will tell you, I've been a member of the Glassmaker's Guild for twenty years and there is not one artisan in all of Nexus who could have done such a thing! It is the work of a great God!" He whispered, a note of awe in his voice.

"Which God?" Roach wondered.

The merchant did not respond. The expression on his face suggested that he wasn't sure, but didn't wish to plead ignorance. I glanced at Roach.

"I don't know if we should get into the middle of this, Boss." He admitted, watching over his shoulder nervously. A shouting match had started between one of the Immaculate monks and a big, bearded man who looked like a local troublemaker. People were gathering all around them. Obviously, there would be a riot if someone didn't separate the two firebrands.

Of course, that was when I felt it. Like so many times before, there was something in the air that I found impossible to ignore, my siren song. I stepped forward, pulling my cloak aside to reveal my new insignia. Though parading about as a Realm officer was not advisable in Nexus, the local mercenaries would not attack me while they were in spitting distance of the Immaculate monks. More importantly, playing the role of a Dynast gave me the leverage I needed to convince the monks to step away from craftsman. Talonlord was no mean rank, and it helped that I would probably pass for a Fire Aspect if no one got a very good look at me.

I decided I would casually drop Mnemon Rai's name to get their attention and if necessary… I could give them a bit of a stronger "suggestion". Though I knew that I needed to be careful, I wasn't going to step down until someone started acting reasonably.

I cleared my throat. "Excuse me?" I said in a very loud voice.

Roach stared at me as if he thought I'd lost my mind.

The two monks closest to me turned, seeming surprised that I dared interrupt them. The more I dealt with ordinary Immaculates as opposed to the isolated Order of Mela, the more I became convinced that most of them were not devout at all, but self-righteous hypocrites who used their status to lord over everyone.

"Forgive my intrusion. My name is Cathak Loren. I'm an officer in the Ravenous Winds under Winglord Mnemon Rai Jin who is a close personal friend of your Emissary. I could not help but notice that everyone on this street appears quite distressed. What seems to be the trouble?"

"These mortals are revolting! They're spouting all sorts of heresy!" The leader of the monks snapped. He was a Fire Aspect, and quite a bit older than I'd suspected. Watching him spew curses at the craftsman, I'd initially appraised him as a young hothead. Clearly, he'd held his position of authority long enough that he wouldn't hesitate to abuse it.

I wanted to take him down a notch very much.

As I had feared months before leaving the Blessed Isle, the "demon" inside of me had grown very strong. There was no longer a definitive line between the two of us. As a child, I had been much more Alexander-like, but when I'd failed to Exalt, I'd gotten used to taking "no" for an answer. Some of the fire that had driven me had smoldered and gone out. I hadn't even known what I was missing until it sparked again and began burning like never before. As I'd assembled my soldiers on the Blessed Isle, I'd come to I realize that if I'd always possessed such power and never once dreamt of the First Age, I would have grown into a man exactly like Alexander. The only real difference between us was that my past self was not afraid to flare the mark on his brow.

"Heresy? That's quite the serious accusation... if this were the Imperial City. But to my knowledge, there are only three laws enforced in Nexus, and you monks are breaking one of them by blocking off this street." I replied calmly. "Now will you kindly show me the nature of this problem before someone files a formal complaint with the Guild?"

The monks looked somber and considered what I had said. The crowd parted without a word and I stared in awe.

It was a magnificent fountain. Crafted from white marble, blue jade, and orichalcum, the fountain resembled a rising sun with rays that became hands as they reached down into the water. The design was geometrical and very clearly influenced by the marvels of the First Age. But more than that, it was functional! As the filthy muck of the canal entered into the heart of the machine, it was purged of all of its impurities. If I had been amazed by the little orichalcum ball that Roach's friends had brought back to the Blessed Isle, I was awed then.

The water I tasted in the jade-tiled pool beneath the fountain was cooled to the temperature of a high mountain spring. In a word, it was heavenly.

"I fail to see what your problem is. This water is clean." I replied, turning to the monks. "Would you prefer to drink from the river?" I didn't say anything about corpses floating down the Yanaze, although I had heard that mercenaries always checked the sandbar south of Glassmaker's Alley if they were looking for someone who might have been murdered.

A child of one of the artisans slipped behind the leader of the monks. He knelt down beside the fountain, cupped his hands, and stole a quick drink before disappearing back into the crowd. Having been born into a life of privilege, it touched my heart to know that the clean water from the miraculous fountain was probably the first he had tasted in his young life.

The monks stared at me incredulously. "Don't you understand? This monstrosity glorifies the Anathema! Everyone who drinks from it will…" One of them began.

"Not get sick?" I cut him off. "You monks ought to know how plague affects these poor neighborhoods! Someone obviously went through a lot of trouble to build this fountain. Frankly, I'm amazed that they didn't demand a king's ransom to do it. It's a very generous gift."

"Look!" The leader of the monks seized me by my arm and drug me around to the side of the fountain where a message was carved into the marble in elegant Old Realm. I pretended not to be able to read it. Of course, my dreams had given me a near perfect comprehension of the ancient speech, but most soldiers did not know the language of the Gods.

The monk did not wait for me to ask what it said. "Now do you see? It glorifies the golden demon that the beasts serve. It was made by one of the Unclean!"

He pointed to the unmistakable symbol of the Twilight Caste, the legendary sorcerers and artisans of the First Age. I was not surprised. I knew that the Twilight Caste's skill in crafting was absolutely unparalleled, the source of so many of the wonders I remembered from my previous life.

The words carved in the pristine marble sent a shiver coursing down my spine.

"You see many stars at night in the sky but find them not when the sun rises; can you say that there are no stars in the heaven of day?So,O man!Because you behold not God in the days of your ignorance, say not that there is no God."

"Scribbles." I frowned, forcing myself to sound stiff and annoyed. "There's ancient writing like this all over Nexus. No one actually reads it."

The monks did not respond. They seemed to be hesitating, which meant that I was winning the argument.

As a child I had been a great believer in Immaculate philosophy. Though everything that I had ever believed told me that I was now a demon, when I looked up at the sun I could feel the Essence churning in my veins, almost as if I were on the verge of boiling over. For a moment, I thought I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder.

As filthy, violent and corrupt as Nexus was, part of me remembered what it had once been, more than a thousand years ago.

Our little pastoral paradise, as Perfect might say.

I blinked in surprise. Though Amira was certainly the most important person in Alexander's life, she was not the only one I'd come to know. Often in my dreams, I'd found myself in the company of a woman called Perfect Mechanical Soul. From what I remembered of her, Perfect preferred to spend most of her time tinkering or with her nose in a book. A Twilight Caste sorceress and artificer, she was renowned for her machines which behaved like living creatures... and her spectacular waterworks.

"Boss?" Roach tugged on my cloak.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I said, not caring who heard.

I expected that Roach would snort and make some sort of snide comment as he usually did when something particularly ostentatious was shown to him, but he only smiled. "I've never seen anything like it." He replied honestly. "But we should really get out of here now."

The Immaculates were leaving Glassmaker's Alley with a fair amount of pushing and shoving through the crowd that had resumed its usual hectic bustle. Despite the fact that I was a Realm soldier, no one got in my way. Some people even smiled, and one merchant gave me a meat bun wrapped in paper. I passed it to Roach who cheerfully wolfed the thing down in one bite. He was always hungry, which made it easy to distract him. My mind, however, was still on the fountain.

I looked up at the sun again, only barely visible through the clouds of smoke and ash drifting across the river from the Nighthammer District.

"What do you want me to do?" I demanded, not realizing that I had spoken aloud. Roach gave me an odd look, but then another street vendor passed him something else to eat.

The sun gave no answer, but as my gaze drifted slowly back to the fountain, I began to realize that I had no need to ask such a question. It is somewhat sobering to realize that the task laid before you is nothing less than the transformation of the entire world.

We returned to our accommodations without incident. Dinner at Cousin Lao's was tolerable, better than camp food but nothing to write home about. I waited until everyone in the household was asleep and then stole out through a window.

At the time of Jaret's death, I'd been too numbed by everything that had happened to me to see Nexus clearly. If I had looked further ahead than the back of the man in front of me, I certainly would have recognized all the ruins that I now remembered so well.

While the world of my dreams had been destroyed centuries ago, a pale shadow of it still existed under the many layers of filth that made up modern Nexus. I wandered down the shadowy streets and went first to a bridge that I'd seen earlier in the day. I'd heard it called "The Bridge of Whispers" and everything about it felt intimately familiar to me. A few drunks and whores passed by, but none of them paused long enough to notice that I was reading the ancient inscription on the pedestal of a headless marble god.

"Given this 7th day of Ascending Fire to the People of Nexus by its co-regents, Alexander The Faeslayer, Exalted of the Dawn Caste and Perfect Mechanical Soul, Exalted of the Twilight Caste. Chief Engineer of Roads, Bridges, Waterworks and Other Improvements for the Public Good."

I touched the name Alexander. It was scarcely legible, but in my mind's eye I could see it as it had appeared when it was newly carved. I'd imagined nothing! Everything that I had dreamt had been real, but too long past for anyone to remember it!

The near riot I'd diffused earlier had convinced me that Nexus was in dire need of some law, the kind that I felt compelled to mete out. While I was still intent on finding a way to help Mnemon Rai, I decided that it would soothe my nerves and allow me to get some good sleep if I found a few scoundrels to admonish before the sun came up. I'd disguised myself fairly well and I doubted that anyone I knew would recognize me. By being a blatantly obvious target, I intended to draw out the snakes from their nests.

It did not take me long to find my first mark. A young woman, probably a whore, was standing on the bridge holding her flimsy cloak pulled tight to her chest. She was not altogether bad-looking if a bit too thin, and she had lovely dark hair was very long and braided down her back. She walked at a fair clip, her eyes fixed on the ground as if she thought that she was being followed.

She was.

The man who pursued her was exactly the kind of scum I'd been hoping for. As he passed me where I stood, still intend on pursuing the girl… I put my foot out in his path to draw his attention. He did not stumble, but he stopped and stared at me.

"What do you want?" He demanded.

"I couldn't help but notice that you were following that young woman." I replied. "Bad form. That's no way to treat a lady."

"She's a whore, man. Are you her brother or something?" He demanded.

"No." I replied, smiling slightly. "Just a concerned citizen. If she is a whore as you say, then approach her in a straightforward manner and pay her properly. If she's not a whore or if she's refused your business already, you should be on your way home." I finished.

"You talk too much." The man brushed me off, clearly annoyed. His eyes still followed the woman.

I stopped his hand. "I'm afraid I must insist!"

That did it. The mugger took a great sloppy swing at my head and I turned his own momentum against him, throwing him into the dirt. Brushing off my hands, I decided that I had made my point and began to walk away. Though I hadn't seen a weapon on his person before, that was when he drew a dagger and thrust at me with it.

Evading that awkward maneuver was even easier than dodging his first punch had been. I drew my sword and our weapons clashed. I pushed him into the nearest wall and disarmed him effortlessly. As he scrambled to retrieve his dagger, I struck the brick near him as a warning, shattering my own blade to pieces from the sheer strength of my blow.

It was not the first time I had destroyed a sword in such a manner, so it did not surprise me. It did, however, surprise the mugger who fled without a backward glance. The girl had long since disappeared, but I still had the strong impression that I was being watched.

I looked up.

Above me stood a masked figure cloaked in white who could only have been the most infamous phantom in all of The Scavenger Lands, the Emissary himself! And what did this being, in reputation a terrible enforcer of justice, think of a stranger patrolling his streets? Nothing, it seemed. He gave no sign of displeasure at any rate. But he must have shown himself for some reason, as he could have certainly escaped my notice had he chosen to. The two of us stared at one another for what felt like a very long time. Then, when it must have been obvious that I did not intend to run away, the Emissary saluted me.

It was not the kind of salute that any soldier or officer of the Realm would use. I felt the blood freeze in my veins as I realized that most infamous man in Nexus had just shown me the same deference one would have accorded to a general of The Solar Deliberative. He knew that I was Alexander!

"Wait!" I shouted, chasing after him as he suddenly bounded away. Fast as I was, the Emissary was much faster. When I was sure that I'd lost him, I sat down for a long while and stared up at the night sky, my mind whirling. Was the Emissary a God? Was he Anathema himself? How did he know my secret?

Sighing in defeat, I went to fetch the shattered blade of my sword. I'd had my fill of adventure for one night, but before returning to bed, there was one more place I intended to visit. Without fighting my way across the daily hubbub of the Big Market, it did not take me very long to reach the fountain in Glassmaker's Alley. It was even more beautiful in the moonlight. I sat down and ran my fingers through the crystal clear water.

As enamored as I was of the fountain, at first I did not notice that I had company. An old woman sat on the street opposite of me. There was something about her that caught my attention immediately, and I knew without a doubt that she was no mere mortal, but a Goddess. Though little Gods were everywhere, the Immaculate Order disapproved of their usual meddling and so they tended not to show themselves when soldiers of the Realm were about.

"Oh, don't mind me." The Goddess remarked, flashing me a smile of very white teeth. Her eyes were iridescent green and carried a hint of mischief in them. "I'm just here to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" I echoed in confusion.

"Well, this lovely, lovely thing was lost for a very long time ago and I must admit, I grew rather fond of it. But now it's found again, and so that's that." She replied, running her gnarled fingers along the marble.

The strange way the old woman spoke seemed familiar to me, and though I did not know her name, I felt certain that we had met before.

"Do I know you?" I wondered.

"Do you know me?" The Goddess cackled. "I should hope so, lost king of Nexus!"

I said nothing in response, though I did feel compelled to stand a little straighter, which was much the same as acknowledging what I had been called.

I'd met several little Gods since Jaret's death and it was not the first time that one of their number had called me something incriminating. Though anyone on the streets could have guessed that I was a soldier masquerading as a beggar, I'd learned that Gods perceived Essence as it naturally flowed, even when it wasn't visible to most eyes. I'd gotten used to them addressing me with all sorts of flowery sobriquets but "King of Nexus" was a new title, and I could not decide how to react to it. Of course, I'd seen the names inscribed on the Bridge of Whispers. Still, it was difficult to imagine that the impossibly beautiful city of my dreams had degenerated into one enormous slum. Then again, it had been fifteen-hundred years.

"Oh, my, my! Look at you! So full of dreams of that lost age! Such a treasure you are!" The Goddess smirked. "I'd love to take you just as you are now, put you in a box and keep you! Yes! But I won't do it! I won't! I'll just think about doing it, about keeping you forever all quiet and safe. A lost king of a lost city, so lovely and lost! Oooh! It's almost too much, even for me!" She fanned herself dramatically.

"You're Madame Marthacine!" I exclaimed, realizing at once whom I was speaking with. Though paying too much attention to Gods outside of the Perfect Hierarchy was a minor blasphemy, there were some powers whose names were readily invoked, even in a Dynast's household.

Madame Marthacine was the Goddess of Lost Things. She was blamed for every piece of silk or silver that went missing and was commonly invoked by frustrated servants searching for that one precious earring that the mistress had lost while out in the garden. I had always considered her a minor sort of deity, but that was before I'd known how different the world had once been. Entire cities had vanished from the face of Creation, and those that remained, like Nexus, were unrecognizable. The glorious world of the First Age was completely buried and forgotten. As the sole keeper of such secrets, that made Madame Marthacine a powerful God indeed.

"I am." She bowed dramatically. Her advanced age was suddenly a superficial thing, as she stood straight as a young woman and moved closer to me with impossible grace. "So riddle me this, Lord Faeslayer. I was speaking with a friend of mine recently and of all the most unexpected things… yournamecame up! Certainly strange to hear such a thing whispered by those who traffic in secrets, although it wasn't always. It has come to my attention that you will soon find my greatestlost treasure!"

"Shouldn't you be trying to stop me then?" I pressed, noting that Madame Marthacine had called me "Faeslayer". It was a name I heard very often in my dreams. Perfect always called me "Faeslayer". Was Madame Marthacine's "friend" Perfect? Was Perfect in Nexus as I already suspected? Could Perfect be the Emissary? I certainly couldn't discount the possibility.

Madame Marthacine laughed. "Oh my, my! You don't understand at all, do you? Nothing in Creation creates such interest in things lostas one such thing miraculously found!" She replied. "I cannot tell you what it is that you should be looking for, nor where you should begin your search… but I eagerly anticipate your immanent "finding"!" Madame Marthacine paused. It seemed that there was something else she wished to say, but for some reason, she could not simply say it.

"I don't understand." I admitted.

"And I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you more, my lovely little lost king." She replied. "Think very hard and tread carefully! There are clues everywhere in this city... you've just got to put them all together. Trust noone."

"Except for you?" I hazarded a guess.

"No, no, no!" The little God wagged a disapproving finger in my direction. "I'm only a little God! And I owe a terrible amount of favors! If you don't want to end up lost on the bottom of the Yanaze River, you'd best not mention this conversation!" She advised.

"Well, thank you for your honesty, I suppose." I paused.

"Oh, my, my! How polite you are! I do so love that! I'll help you again if I can!" Madame Marthacine smirked mischievously, bowed, and then vanished as she had never been, a shadow melting in the moonlight.

I returned to my cousin's house but nothing could persuade me to sleep. I had seen far too many eyes watching me on my short trip back across town and I knew that they belonged, not to ordinary mortals but to hordes of little Gods. I paced back and forth for the better part of an hour considering everything that Madame Marthacine hadn't said. Why in all my years on the Blessed Isle had so few spirits troubled me, and now that I had returned to the Scavenger Lands, every street corner was teeming with them?

In the morning over breakfast, I learned that the horses we were waiting for had arrived. Roach packed our supplies and the two of us bid farewell to my cousin, joined our makeshift Talon outside of the city on the road heading east. We met Mnemon Rai at sunset and he was only too glad to see us.

A week passed in camp. I hadn't realized how badly I wanted to escape from behind a desk until I was in the field again. Mnemon Rai was amused by my eagerness to take on even the most monotonous of tasks and reminded me several times that as a Talonlord, I did not need to drag men out of bed, stand watch, or count supplies. Junior officers could take care of all of those tasks. The business with Calil that I had been summoned for still needed to be settled, and that was something only I could do.

We talked the matter over in a surprisingly candid manner. Though we had exchanged thousands of letters, I had not actually spoken to Mnemon Rai in a very long while. I was surprised at how our relationship had changed. He did not give me orders, he simply proposed ideas, and then actually asked me what I thought. All the while we spoke, he smiled.

"Thank the Dragons you're here, Cathak." He said, slapping me on the back.

It was very nice to be appreciated by Mnemon Rai, and I did not want to disappoint him. Our scouts reported that Sesus Calil was camped only about forty miles away. I would travel with just a single Scale, a diplomatic mission rather than a show of force. Though Calil liked me as much as he liked anyone, he would not be pleased to hear that I'd been promoted yet again and would probably loathe the fact that Roach was now my first officer. Mnemon Rai agreed that taking a humble stance was my best chance of winning Calil over, though he worried about the fae. I promised him I would turn back immediately if I saw any signs of Wyld in the forest.

For two days we headed East, and everything went well.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Though we'd seen no sign of the taint, the fae struck without warning in the middle of the night. The boy on watch raised the alarm just as he should have, but not quickly enough. I broke both of my swords in the fight and then realized that I had to stop burning Essence before I revealed myself. I wanted to do more... I knew that I could, but fear crippled me.

When the fae finally retreated, I'd lost half of my soldiers. I sat with my head buried in my hands for nearly an hour, utterly disgusted with myself. I could feel the mark on my brow beginning to flicker, and I knew that I'd stopped fighting with all my strength just as it was starting to become visible. If someone had seen, I might have been forced to hurt the very people I was trying to protect. Though I understood that stepping back was the only rational choice, it still felt wrong. I felt like a coward.

Keeping my promise to Mnemon Rai, I immediately sent a messenger back to The Winds on my horse. She'd been gone only two hours when a carrier pigeon landed on Roach with a message from Talonlord Calil.

Calil had been attacked by the fae himself and taken heavy losses. Though I had no help to bring him, it sounded as though he was probably closer than Mnemon Rai, and if he still had at least four-hundred men, he would certainly be able to spare someone with medical training to tend to my wounded.

Knowing Calil as well as I did, I knew that there was no point in sending him one of my green recruits. If I expected any help from him at all, I would have to talk to him myself.