It took days for the Praetorium's forces to pull out of Spessia. Days of waiting around, wondering if anyone had survived. The others thought it was a lost cause, but Azurda remained hopeful. Addam's militia wouldn't go down so easily.
As he flew across the battlefield, however, the sight made him sick to his stomach. The militia had put up a fight, but ultimately, they'd been overwhelmed. The dead were everywhere, a long procession stretching from the coastal forests all the way to the fungal wastes and back. Fires covered the land, and smoke choked the skies. It was carnage on par with any battle from the war. And to think the Praetorium had been keeping these forces in reserve. So many lives lost for no good reason.
"Azurda," Minoth said. "They're not down there."
"I know," he said. Hours of searching, and they still couldn't find Lora and the others.
"The refugees are missing too," Minoth continued. "Most of them, anyway. Hopefully Lora got them to safety. She had Jin with her, after all."
"I'm sure she did," Azurda said. "But there were other Drivers with her. I see many bodies, but no Core Crystals."
"You think they escaped with Lora?"
"Maybe."
They both knew that was a lie. There had been nearly a hundred Drivers guarding the refugees, and Azurda had seen many of their bodies scattered throughout the forest already. But even after the sun set, he couldn't see the glow of even a single Core Crystal. Lora wouldn't have been able to collect all those cores, not with Praetorium soldiers bearing down on her. Those Blades were in the Praetorium's hands, now. But neither of them wanted to say that out loud.
"We should head back," Minoth said. "See what the others found. Lora wouldn't have gone into the wastes, so she probably headed down the coast. I'll start tracking them in the morning."
"Yes," Azurda said. "That would be best."
As he turned around, heading for their camp at Spessia's horn, he saw a signal go up. One of the flares Minoth had given to his men in the event they found anyone. This was the first to go up since the search began. Frantically, Azurda picked up the pace. If anyone was still alive, he had to know.
It was Tenax's group, sheltered by the roots of a great tree. So far, they were the only survivors they'd found, and it had fallen to them to collect the dead. Already, a series of funeral pyres burned large and bright in a nearby clearing. To return the fallen to the ether. Hopefully, after a day of sorting through the carnage, they had found something good.
For a moment, Azurda felt that hope burn bright in his chest as he saw who was with them. It was Jin, standing by one of the pyres. He held his mask in one hand, and a journal in the other. Perhaps he'd be able to tell them where Lora had gone.
That hope died as he saw who lay on the sled next to him. It was Lora, a hole torn through her chest. Her skin was pallid, and she had dried blood at the corners of her mouth. More than anything else, though, the look on Jin's face said enough. Lora was dead. In all likelihood, Haze and Mikhail were too.
"Jin…" Azurda said, lowering his head to the man's level. Minoth slid off his back and ran to wrap Jin in a hug. He seemed too stunned to return the gesture.
"I'm sorry," Minoth said, his voice straining as he held back tears. "I should have been here. I should have done something."
"Don't blame yourself," Jin said. His voice was quiet. "Honestly, I don't know what difference you would have made. There were so many of them, I…" He looked down at Lora. "I couldn't save her."
"You ate her," Azurda observed. After a moment, Jin nodded. Like he didn't want to say the words out loud.
"I should have been there," Minoth said again. He broke his hug with Jin and took a step back, looking out at all the burning corpses. "That bastard. I'll make him pay. I swear."
"Who?" Azurda asked.
"Amalthus, that's who! This has his disgusting scent all over it! And I, for one, am tired of letting him have his way. I say we smash the Praetorium's golden walls and get some payback."
"We have people to look after," Azurda said. "The others in Uraya still need our help."
"Good point. I bet they'd like some payback too. We'll have to pick them up before we head to Indol."
"We're not going to Indol." Azurda did his best to frown at Minoth. It was hard to convey emotion like that with so little in the way of body language, at least in a way that humans understood. "We'd only be sending more good people to their deaths."
"You want us to just let this go!?" Minoth asked, his voice nearly breaking. "He slaughtered us, Azurda! He killed Lora! We need to make him pay!"
"No," Jin said. He looked down at Lora's corpse. "That isn't what Lora would have wanted. She'd have wanted us to rebuild. Move on. Keep walking."
"A wise decision," Azurda said. Minoth clenched and unclenched his hands a few times, staring into the fire.
"Fine," he said. "We'll head for Uraya after we burn the bodies. The least we can do is make sure we don't lose anyone else."
"What about you?" Azurda asked, glancing back at Jin. He didn't reply. Instead, he opened the journal and flipped through it for a moment. He settled on what looked like the last entry, then stuck a photograph in between the pages. After another moment's hesitation, he closed it and tossed it onto the pyre.
"Should we burn her too?" Minoth asked. "I don't know Tornan funeral practices."
"I'll take care of it," Jin said. He placed the mask over his core, picked up the rope tied to the end of the sled, and began walking, pulling Lora after him.
"Jin!" Azurda called out. "You could come with us, you know."
"I can't," he said.
"What is it you plan to do, then?"
"I'm going to keep walking. I doubt we'll ever see each other again."
"You don't need to be alone, Jin."
He stopped. "If we ever do see each other again, then…" He glanced back at them, but whatever he was going to say, he decided against it. "I wish you both the best."
He turned and began walking again, slowly sinking into the night. Azurda watched him go, knowing he should say something but not knowing what. He couldn't leave things like this. He needed to do something. But there didn't seem like anything he could do. The best he could hope for was to keep people alive and keep things from getting any worse.
"We should go after him," Minoth said. "He's one of us. We can't just leave him."
"This is what he's decided," Azurda said, turning back. Slowly, he began lumbering over to the others.
Tenax was nearby, coiled up among the roots of a nearby greattree. She was staring at the body of another Titan that lay nearby. Morent, he realized. One of the ones who'd accompanied the refugees to Spessia. She seemed too somber for him to be alive, but if his body was still here, then he hadn't died all that long ago. Azurda sat next to her, and for a while, neither of them spoke. They just watched as Minoth and the others committed more of the fallen to the ether.
"Was it worth it?" Tenax asked.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Getting involved in their war," she said. "Was it worth it?"
"We had no choice, Tenax. It was either fight or face annihilation."
"I doubt Morent is enjoying the distinction," she said, motioning toward his body. He was covered in gashes, and his core was missing. Probably destroyed by whatever did this to him.
"I would have gladly given my life in his place," Azurda said. "As I would for any of our fallen. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to honor the sacrifices they made. It's the least I can do, after I chose to involve them in this war."
"What sacrifices? No one here died for anything just. Anything worthwhile. They were slaughtered, every single one of them, for no reason at all. How can you honor that?"
"I don't know," he admitted. At least the war had a clear enemy. Those who died in battle against the Aegis's hordes had given their lives so that others could live. But here? There was no such comfort.
"We should never have been here," she said. "Never have fought in this idiotic war. At least then we wouldn't have drawn the Praetorium's attention."
"I have no excuses," Azurda said. "If you wish to blame me, then do so. But our involvement in the war was necessary."
"That's the problem, Azurda. We involved ourselves with humans, and people died. The war was over, so none of us should have even been here. But still, we chose to stay. Not because we needed to, but because we wanted to look after the humans left behind. And our kindness was met with slaughter. Too many of Torna's children are like you, with a bad habit of growing attached. But humanity's capacity for cruelty is endless. If we're going to survive, we must distance ourselves from it."
"I don't believe that. We survived this war by working together with humans. We relied on them, and they relied on us in turn. That Morent and the others would be willing to lay down their lives is a testament to how important that bond was to them."
"We have known Morent for six hundred years, Azurda. He was a soul that shined with endless warmth. Like you, he wanted to protect the humans under his care. And today, I found him like this…"
She took paused for a moment, and Azurda pressed his head against hers. There wasn't much else he could do to comfort her.
"His core is missing," she continued.
"Destroyed," Azurda said. "I saw it happen many times during the war. I had hoped to never see it happen again."
"It wasn't destroyed, Azurda. Someone cut it out. All the flesh around it is missing too, but there are no burns. No shrapnel. Whoever did this to him took their time, carving out pieces of him. I cannot fathom the depravity such an act would take."
Azurda couldn't either. He also couldn't be sure Tenax wasn't simply exaggerating. Seeing in the wounds what she wanted to see. But he couldn't exactly deny the possibility.
"I never meant for this to happen," he said again. Slowly, Tenax pulled away from him.
"Well, it happened, whether you intended for it or not. This is where involvement with humans will lead us, Azurda. I will not sit by and let it happen to anyone else."
"Morent saved many lives," Azurda said. "I saw him do it, time and again. During the battle for Uraya, he faced down machines twice his size to give the wounded time to escape. If he knew this was where that would lead, I don't think he would have done anything differently."
"I don't care how many he saved," she said. "None of it could have been worth this. Human lives are cheap. They live short and breed fast. So long as there are Titans to sustain them, the wounds left by any war will be gone within a generation. They will move on. They will forget. But us? We can't forget. We're supposed to be eternal, and yet so many of us died fighting to protect those who, given time, will simply die anyway. So many of us died here, failing to accomplish even that."
"All life is sacred," Azurda said. "All lives deserve protection. No one is worth more than anyone else, human or Titan."
"We are not simply one life, Azurda. We are life itself. If the humans die out, life will carry on. But if our people are wiped out, Alrest itself will disappear. We have a responsibility to protect ourselves, otherwise there will be nothing to protect."
Azurda didn't know how to respond. She was right, in a sense. Every Titan they lost had drastic consequences. Ones that would not be felt for millennia, but would be felt nonetheless. Land would begin to diminish, and humans would fight ever-increasing wars over ever-decreasing resources. It was a very easy future to imagine.
But he felt the same held true for humans. They were capable of endless creativity and ingenuity. For every life he saved, it was possible they might one day cure a disease. Or lead a nation to prosperity. Or even just live, free and safe and able to bring more joy into the world. It was a somewhat idealistic notion, but it spurred him to action far more than the alternative. Whenever he saw a life in danger, he felt a desire to safeguard that potential. Even if it could one day cost the world his own. That was a price he was willing to pay.
"I don't think we should cut ourselves off," he said. "The humans need us, now more than ever."
"That may be. But we still must do what is best for our people. I'm going to Temperantia. With Regideria destroyed, we should be able to escape human notice. Live in peace."
"I see." Azurda nodded. "How many will be joining you?"
"As many as I can convince. Garresh and Huanglong have agreed to come, as have many of Candoris' children. Genbu will urge their children to join us as well."
"It seems the reasonable course of action, given recent events."
"I want you to come with us, too."
For a moment, Azurda didn't reply. He had thought that, after convincing so many of their people to fight in the war, Tenax wouldn't want him around. She'd made no secret that it was what had driven a wedge in their relationship.
"I see," he said.
"You are the most respected of Torna's children. If you come, many others will follow. They need a parent, now more than ever."
"I cannot," he said. "I have… Prior obligations."
Tenax backed away from him. "You wish to remain with the humans?"
"Addam has asked me to look after Leftheria. There are things hidden with them that should not be uncovered."
"After all this, you still think of them first."
"I don't…" He shook his head. "I meant to tell you sooner. Before today, I had hoped you would join me. But I can see the sense in what you propose. I won't stand in your way."
"No," she said, a deep anger slipping into her voice. "You have a responsibility. You say you wanted to honor the sacrifices of our brothers and sisters? Then join us with Temperantia. Help us rebuild our people."
"I cannot. I must keep my promise to Addam. That sword holds the power to destroy Alrest itself. I must keep it safe."
Tenax lashed out, her tail striking a nearby root. It was so sudden that Azurda jumped back a little, shaking the ground around him.
"Coward," she muttered. Without another word, she left, slithering off into the forest. Azurda didn't follow her. It would only anger her further.
For a moment, he considered going to Temperantia, after tempers cooled. Asking for her forgiveness, trying to make amends for the damage he'd done. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't. Even if Malos was defeated, the destruction of the war was far from over. It would continue to spread, and until humanity proved worthy of the Aegis's power, he would need to keep a close eye on its progress. Because even if Tenax and Jin and everyone else had given up hope, he hadn't. He still believed there was some good that could come from all of this. He was determined to see Addam's vision through to the end.
Azurda knew what was happening the moment the call went out. It was a low-pitched cry, somewhere just shy of a roar and audible only to those with a keen sense of the ether. Which, discounting Kalarau and a handful of Blades, meant the Titans. They were certainly the only ones who knew what it meant. Tenax was calling a gathering. Azurda dearly hoped this wasn't about what he thought it was about.
"Azurda?" Mikhail asked, looking up at him. "You alright?"
"Yes," he said. "Though I fear I must depart shortly. Tenax has called our attention."
"Fuck that," Kalarau said. "We've got business we need to sort out first."
"Oh, really?" Patroka asked. "Gee, I hadn't thought of that. I'm glad you finally dragged your ass up to a meeting for once, otherwise we'd have never figured that out."
"Hey, I hate the fact that I'm up here just as much as you do, but since I'm the only one who saw what happened—"
"I saw it happen too," Strix said. "So did Akhos and Patroka."
"None of you were there. None of you had to watch as she tore him apart. And I'm sure as shit certain none of you helped her do it, either."
"So, let me get this straight. We're supposed to throw Nia in the dungeons because you can't conscious feeling guilty?"
"I can live with guilt," Kalarau spat. "I'm a lot better at it than you are, covering up your shame with those bandages. Who the hell do you think you're fooling, anyway?"
"Hey, fuck you!" Strix shouted. He stepped toward Kalarau, and the man stepped toward him in turn. "Say that again, and I'm putting this spear down your fucking throat, you—"
"Enough," Minoth said, stepping between the two. It wasn't like either of them to get this worked up. Slowly, the two backed up. "We're here to figure out how to help Nia, not imprison her."
"Help her?" Kalarau asked. "She cut her partner in half! Why does she deserve any help? There needs to be consequences for something like this."
"Throwing Nia in the dungeons isn't going to fix Dromarch," Azurda said. "And it isn't as if we have the authority to anyway."
"Technically we do," Akhos said. "I'm not saying I support this line of thinking, necessarily, but we did agree to take action if one of us crossed a line. If the majority deem it necessary, we need to remove the offending Caretaker from their position pending a hearing."
"Like any of us could stop her if we wanted to," Patroka said. "She's got more firepower than all of you guys combined."
"Debatable," Kalarau said.
"I can't believe I have to agree with wolf-boy," Strix muttered.
"And anyway, doesn't that go against the whole point of this place? If one person can be so powerful that it's impossible to make them accountable for their actions, then as far as I'm concerned, the Gardens are a failure."
"Nia would go willingly," Mikhail said. "If we put it to a vote and agree she needs to step down, she'd respect it."
"That's not the point," Kalarau insisted. "The point it, is shouldn't be up to her at all."
"Whose side are you on?" Patroka asked.
"I'm on Dromarch's side. I'm tired of seeing good Blades get hurt by their Drivers' carelessness."
"We're not putting Nia in jail," Minoth repeated. "That won't solve the problem. Once Adenine gets back to us with an assessment of the situation, then we can figure out a way to move forward, but until then, taking retributive actions against Nia for making a mistake during surgery will only make things worse."
"This is already getting worse. This gets worse by the second."
"All in favor of throwing Nia in prison?" Mikhail asked, cutting to the heart of the matter. Immediately, Kalarau's hand went up, followed very slowly by Akhos's. Patroka scowled at him but said nothing. None of the others raised their hands, though. Azurda glanced at Qadar, who'd been keeping quiet the whole meeting, but she didn't comment.
"Guess that's a no, then," Mikhail said.
"You know it's only a matter of time before the community finds out about this, right?" Kalarau asked. "What are we going to do then? Nia won't even come out of her room. How long is she going to stay in hiding before we've got people trying to break the doors down?"
"Have faith," Azurda said. "People care about this community. They will not lose sight of that so quickly."
"With all due respect," Akhos said, "You've got a lot more faith in people than I think they deserve."
"I have faith in these people," he said. "That is enough."
"Well, this has been a fantastically productive meeting," Mikhail said. "Azurda, if you need to head out—"
"Right," he said. He'd nearly forgotten about Tenax's summons. Strictly speaking, he had no obligation to heed it. Probably, his day would be much better if he didn't. But if this was about Nia, then he needed to go. "I trust you all will come to a sound decision."
"I wouldn't," Strix muttered.
"Blow me," replied Kalarau.
"Watch it," Minoth said. "We're all adults here. Act like it."
"We'll be fine," Mikhail said. Azurda wasn't exactly reassured, but it couldn't be helped, so he just nodded and lifted his head out of the room. Once he got clear, he turned and dove off the platform, spreading his wings to catch the air. He did so much travelling lately that it was hard to appreciate the beauty involved, but as the wind rushed around him, he managed a small smile to himself. It was hardly the occasion for it, given everything that had happened over the last few hours. But it was good to indulge in small pleasures, especially at a time like this.
He cut a lazy arc through the air as he flew toward Temperantia's head. Whenever Tenax called a gathering, they all gathered at the crest. It was the place with the most open space where they could meet in privacy. According to her, it was the last place their kind could gather and be their true selves. Not a notion he bought into, strictly, but he couldn't deny that it worked.
Many of the others had already arrived by the time he landed, arranging themselves in a series of large, concentric circles. Sorting themselves by age. The eldest gathered closest to the middle, and they tended to hold the most sway. An archaic system if Azurda had ever seen one, but there was little he could do about it. Even the youngest Titans were conditioned by centuries of tradition. At least humans had the benefit of mortality forcing them to grow.
He landed in the innermost circle, next to Garresh. It was depressing to think they all qualified as elders, now, when none of them had reached their third millenium. Tenax sat curled up across from him, and she scowled as he arrived.
I didn't think you'd be coming, she said, speaking to him through the ether. This was supposed to be a space free from human language, after all.
My duties kept me, he replied.
Meeting with the Caretakers? Garresh asked. What for?
There's been an incident. A Blade was injured.
Injured? Huanglong asked. Blades cannot be injured.
His core was damaged during surgery. We're still assessing the situation.
Surgery, Tenax noted. Conducted by your Head Caretaker, if I'm not mistaken?
She knew. Azurda had been afraid of that. She looked and sounded less than pleased. Already, she cared very little for the Gardens. He hoped this didn't push her into a decidedly negative opinion.
Yes. The circumstances are extraordinary, where she and her Blade are concerned. They have been through much. I am confident they will endure this as well.
Their endurance is of little consequence, Huanglong said. Can the Head Caretaker be trusted with her position?
I assure you, the situation is well in hand. Nia is the strongest person I know.
But already, her position was tenuous. No doubt this will cause an uproar among the Blade residents.
Politics, Garresh said. What are we, humans? Why does it matter if she stays in power?
We have decided to give life in the Gardens a chance, Huanglong continued. We should ensure it can be maintained. Do any among you believe this institution will survive without her?
There was silence for a moment. Nia didn't know many Titans personally, but anyone who spent time at the Gardens knew her, or at least knew of her. It wasn't fair to say she was the only thing keeping the Gardens together, but from the outside, it probably appeared that way.
The Gardens will survive, Azurda insisted. The Head Caretaker is not the only person there who wishes to see it prosper.
So you say, Tenax said. But whether or not you wish it to succeed is irrelevant. If the Gardens cannot serve as a buffer from the humans, we must look elsewhere.
Like where? Garresh asked. Anywhere we go, they're going to be close behind. No matter how large Elysium is, they will find us all the same. So far, the Gardens have kept the humans away. If we leave, our only other option will be to stake claim to our own territory. Engage in human politics on their terms. I don't think any of us want that.
The Gardens have not kept the humans away, Tenax said. We have traded military garrisons for terrorists and mercenaries, but the humans haven't left. If anything, the presence of the Gardens places us in even greater danger.
NO, a voice boomed echoing out across the ether. It was Temperantia. They all waited as they slowly thundered out the rest of their message. Ancient Titans always took time to communicate in concrete language. THEY. HAVE. BROUGHT. HEALING.
Undeniably, Tenax said. Their presence is not inherently destructive. I believe they should stay, to assist your healing. But I do not believe it is in our best interests to continue to align with them.
You never believed that, Garresh said.
I believed they would protect us, once. Now it is clear they cannot even protect themselves.
They've stopped several attacks in the past few months, Azurda said. They seem more than capable of self-defense.
But their structures will not last, Tenax continued. They have power, but no discretion. They allow dissenting voices to grow without properly addressing their root causes, and they rely on the talents of a few powerful individuals to safeguard the community as a whole. It will not survive sustained human pressure. It will not even survive itself.
Why must we live apart from humans? asked one of the younger Titans. It was rare for a junior to interrupt a discussion amongst elders, especially when an ancient had offered their opinion.
They are destructive, Tenax said, craning her head up to look out at the younger circles. Their history is full of attempts to enslave or destroy our kind. Judicium, the Praetorium, Mor Ardain's inhabitants, those pests infesting Spessia. What will they do once they no longer need us to survive?
We could go to Sthenos, the young Titan offered. They have a good relationship with their humans, right?
No, Azurda and Tenax said, almost in unison. Rare was the occasion that they agreed, these days, but on Sthenos they had some common ground. Even among Titans, Sthenos was a pariah.
STHENOS, Temperantia said. COWARD. SLAVER-MURDERER. KILLS. CHILDREN. FEARS. THEY. WILL. OUTLIVE. THEM.
Oh, the young Titan said.
This is our last refuge, Garresh said. Estham and Torna are dead. Sthenos will try to kill us. Spessia's humans would imprison us. All the others would exploit us in other ways, and fleeing to new lands will only push the problem back a decade or two. We have nowhere else to go.
Waiting here to die is no solution either, Tenax said. We must act to preserve ourselves. When the Gardens fail—
The Gardens will not fail, Azurda said. I will make sure of it.
You also claimed we could defeat the Aegis, Huanglong said. You claimed it was our duty to protect others. Some of us still remember how much your word is worth when it comes to safeguarding the lives of your own.
Incorrect, another voice said. It was Dahak, one of the other elders. Due to her age, she was easily twice as large as any of the others, but like Tenax she could coil herself up to hide her true size. She rarely spoke during gatherings. In many ways she was even less inclined to living near humans than Tenax was. But she was the oldest among them, and as such served as a kind of chronicler.
Azurda dragged us into that accursed war, Huanglong said.
Yet you all agreed to participate. Even I, loathe as I am to approach humans, was drawn to the conflict. We all agreed it was necessary. That the victory came at such a cost only demonstrates the conflict's grave necessity.
It doesn't matter how necessary it was, Tenax said. It has become clear to me that Azurda values the lives of humans above his own kind. He chose to spend centuries with them, guarding their relics rather than join his people where he belonged.
This I cannot dispute, Dahak said. She drew back into herself, going quiet once again.
I care for the humans, Azurda said. I think of one as my own son. I will not deny this. But they are such fragile beings. I believed they deserved our protection. I still believe that. And I believe in the Gardens as well. It is a place with no judgements. No prejudice. No exploitation or pain. It may be the only chance we have to truly understand one another.
We are well beyond understanding, Tenax said. When the Gardens fail, we will move on. We have no other choice.
If the Gardens fail, Azurda insisted. If the Caretakers crumble beneath the weight of what they are trying to accomplish, then I will not blame you. You must protect our people. But the Gardens will not fail. I will do everything in my power to ensure it.
It won't be enough, Huanglong said. I agree with Tenax. It is an unsustainable society.
Not so long as we work to support it.
Who cares? Garresh asked. There's no point in leaving so long as they're keeping the rest of the world out.
Then we shall wait, Tenax said. So long as the Gardens survive, I agree that remaining would be the prudent course of action. But the moment they falter? The moment it becomes clear that they can no longer keep their promise? We are leaving them behind. I doubt it will take much longer. And when we leave, Azurda, you are not welcome to join us. You have made your allegiance eminently clear.
He could feel the eyes of the others on him as she said that. He feared that many others shared the same sentiment.
We cannot keep running, he said. At some point, we must either stand and believe in something, or perish.
What you believe in will destroy us regardless.
Then at least I will have believed. It is more than you can say.
With that, he stepped forward, breaking the circle and taking to the air. He left the gathering behind, even as Tenax shouted after him. But he wasn't listening to her anymore. He had made many mistakes in his life. He had been reckless, and naïve, and in the wake of the slaughter in Spessia, he had been a coward. He had let down nearly everyone he loved when he withdrew to Leftheria, and he still held himself responsible for letting Jin go down such a dark path.
But despite all the mistakes he had made, believing in Nia was not one of them. He could feel that in his bones. Despite everything that had happened, she still wanted what was best for everyone. If she couldn't succeed here, then they truly had no hope left. And he could not allow himself to believe things were hopeless. Hope was what had sustained him for five hundred years. He wouldn't give up on it yet.