The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 433

The droning of the mana-powered skyship shooting through the air provided a calming ambient static as I sat down at the foot of the ship cabin’s bed where Sylvie was lying down. Outside, the pressure emanating from the two remaining dragons was a constant reminder of their presence. The third had left after a brief conversation with the others, and I could only assume she was reporting either to Windsom or directly to Kezess himself.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Sylvie said, shifting as she tried and failed to get comfortable on the stone bed. “I just need more time to recover from being brought back. These waves of fatigue and discomfort…I’m sure they’ll pass. My body and mind need to recover and process, that’s all.”

“Sylvie…” I started, then trailed off, not sure how to ask what I needed to. “I keep seeing things, flashes of memory from our linked minds, of my life—Grey’s life. But what I see doesn’t make sense, because they’re not my memories, even though they’re things that happened to me. How…”

I thought I’d come to terms with the whole reincarnation thing years ago. But every time I learned some new piece of information about how I came to this world, it further complicated my understanding.

“I don’t think I can explain with words,” Sylvie said, propping herself up on her elbows. “But I can let you in. I’m already struggling to hold onto those memories. Only a part of me was there, pulled through time and space by the collapsing portal you’d ripped in our universe, while the rest of me followed you to the Relictombs and became that…stone egg.”

I didn’t want to cause her unnecessary strain, but the desire to understand what was happening overpowered my fear, and even my empathy. “If you think you’re strong enough.”

My bond smiled, closed her eyes, and laid back. ‘Open your mind to me fully.’

I did as she requested.

I was reliving those last moments all over again, watching as she sacrificed herself for me through her own eyes, and then the diffused energy of her being was pulled apart. The memories were cloudy and distorted, but I recognized my own previous life playing out in front of me, seeing it from Sylvie’s perspective, who stayed by my side through it all, right up until…

It was difficult to understand.

“Nico thought the spell went wrong. That Agrona had miscalculated, bringing me to the wrong place at the wrong time, but…it was you. You interrupted his spell…you made me a Leywin.”

I stood, rubbing my hands over my face as I struggled to make sense of what I’d seen. But of the dozens of questions I had, one in particular thrust itself forward, and I asked it almost without intending to. “The infant…did I kill him when I took the body? Alice’s…son?”

Sylvie’s arms were wrapped around her torso, and she was shivering slightly. The mental link between us closed off and she curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her knees. “No, Arthur. There was no other soul there. The body…I think you were fated to have it.”

I moved to sit next to her and rubbed her arm to warm her. From the memory, it hadn’t been clear, and I wasn’t sure if Sylvie could really know that, but I didn’t press her further. “Thank you for showing me the memories.”

She nodded, her thin frame trembling even harder.

Withdrawing a blanket from the gear stashed in my dimension rune, I laid it over her, and she was asleep in moments. Uncertain what else to do, I returned to the foot of the bed.

‘That’s a whole lot to process,’ Regis sent from the deck of the ship, where he was keeping an eye on our dragon escorts with Chul.

My mother had once, not so long ago, struggled with the question of whether or not I was truly her son. It had never been a question to me before, but now, knowing that it had been Sylvie who placed me inside that particular baby, I couldn’t help but wonder what it meant for my relationship with my family.

The question I had asked Sylvie was only one of many stuck in my brain like a pebble lodged in a horseshoe. More answers seemed necessary to understand why my life had become what it was. How could Sylvie have known what baby to bring my soul to?

Knowing that no amount of self-reflection would bring answers to the questions I had, I did my best not to think about them. Instead, I withdrew the keystone I’d received from the last ruin. So much had happened in such a short amount of time—discounting the fact that nearly two months had passed in the blink of an eye, of course—that I hadn’t been able to give the keystone more than a passing thought since returning from the Relictombs with it.

Sitting with my legs crossed, I rested the small cube in my lap, considering its dark, matte surface. Both the previous keystones, which had helped me gain insight into Aroa’s Requiem and Realmheart respectively, had provided difficult, prolonged puzzles for me to solve. Although my mind was unsettled, I felt a thrill as I prepared to imbue the cuboid relic with aether.

My excitement soured only moments later as I mentally withdrew from the keystone. I stared down at it, stricken, then attempted to imbue it with aether a second time. My consciousness was pulled into it, the same as the other keystones, then…nothing. I simply came back to myself. I couldn’t reach the keystone’s inner realm at all.

Activating Realmheart, I stared at the stone cube. Both mana and aether clung to it, but that fact alone didn’t reveal anything about the keystone’s inner workings or suggest what I needed to do to operate it.

Not willing to give up immediately, but incredibly frustrated that I’d met with failure so quickly, I continued attempting to interact with the keystone, pushing more—and then less—aether into it, shaping the aether in specific ways, and using aether to manipulate the mana as well, but nothing I tried allowed me to progress into the inner realm where I would hopefully gain insight into a new godrune.

Feeling defeated, I finally put the relic away when Regis informed me that we’d crossed the mountains and were now flying over the desert. Joining the others on the deck, I watched the sand dunes and rocky crags speed by below us.

Chul had his weapon out and was slowly moving through a series of choreographed combat techniques. His eyes were closed, but he must have felt me watching him because he said, “I would have preferred to spar with you, but Wren rightly worried that the force of our clash might shatter his conjured construct.”

“There will be real enemies to fight soon enough,” I said absently.

Chul guffawed. “I do not plan to fight Agrona’s forces, my brother in vengeance. I will break them.”

I shook my head, a tentative smile creeping across my face. Some of my tension eased, and I fell into idle conversation with Regis and Chul. All too soon, though, our destination approached, and what waited for us clawed its way back into my thoughts.

I pointed out a crack in the ground to Wren—one of the many surface entrances to the dwarven tunnels surrounding Vildorial—and we began descending toward the sand. Sylvie was already up when I went to retrieve her, and within a couple minutes we were standing on the baking stone at the edge of the small ravine.

Both dragons landed as well, transforming into their humanoid forms. The green dragon became a tall, blond man in dark armor that shimmered emerald when the light caught it at a certain angle. The red’s humanoid form was shorter and more wiry. His jet-black hair and robes contrasted sharply against his pale skin, but his ochre eyes and scowl were the same.

“Come, Guardian Vajrakor will be waiting for you,” the blond asura said stiffly. He took the lead down into the ravine while his counterpart moved to the rear of our group.

Wren Kain dismissed the ship, allowing it to dissolve and flow as sand, then followed close on the first dragon’s heels.

“Ah, if only we could stand beneath the sun’s warming gaze for a while longer before delving back under the ground,” Chul said, his eyes closed and face turned to the sun. He was smiling broadly.

I said nothing, too tense to make conversation.

Inside the tunnel entrance, which was hidden within the shadows of the ravine, we were greeted by a cadre of guards. The dwarves bowed to the dragons, hardly even taking stock of who accompanied them, and let us through without issue.

We passed through several more barricades on the route to Vildorial. After the third such obstruction, where the dragon offered a quick call and response to the guards before they allowed us through, I brought it up to our guide.

“The guardian has done much to increase the security of this city,” he explained as we continued to march quickly. “Several of the old tunnels were collapsed and many additional guard posts erected, along with a password system to ensure Alalcryan sympathizers and spies aren’t able to move freely within Darv.”

I didn’t miss the tone of accusation, as if the fact that these things hadn’t been done before explained why the dragons were needed so badly.

The final gate into Vildorial was already open when we arrived, and a small crowd was waiting for us on the other side.

I saw Ellie and Mom before anyone else.

Rushing past the troop of soldiers, counselors, and lords, I let my mother pull me into a tender hug. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I’ll explain everything, but I didn’t intend to be gone so long and without sending a message. For me it’s only been a few days.”

My mother gave me a smile that I thought was somewhat stiff. “It’s okay, Arthur, you don’t have to—”

“Jerk!” Ellie snapped, punching me hard in the arm. “I can’t believe you—Sylvie!”

Ellie’s anger melted away as she made the realization. She slipped around me and jumped on my bond, wrapping her arms around Sylvie and squeezing fiercely, tears already spilling down her cheeks. “You—you’re alive!” she squealed, her throat constricted by the sobs racking her.

Sylvie patted Ellie’s back. “I am, though perhaps not for long if you continue to crush the breath from my body.” Sylvie beamed at me over Ellie’s shoulder, leaning her head against my sister’s.

A strong sensation of being home washed over me, doubled in potency as I experienced my own emotions and Sylvie’s simultaneously. The moment was then immediately interrupted when Daglun Silvershale, the lord of one of the most powerful dwarven clans, interposed himself between me and my family.

“Ahem. Excuse me General Arthur, but I, along with these other fine lords, have been sent to greet you on behalf of Guardian Vajrakor.” Somewhat belatedly, he bowed to the two dragons escorting us, looking nervous, then continued. “He awaits you in—”

I missed whatever else Daglun was saying as my attention settled on Varay, who had also been waiting with the group of dwarves and my family. It had been awhile since I’d seen the other human Lance, who’d spent time helping to clear the cities of Sapin of several Alacryan holdouts. Although her white hair was now short, she hardly seemed to have changed at all since I first met her at Xyrus Academy years ago.

She was watching me intently, her gaze an icy ray that conjured goosebumps on my arms.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping around the still-speaking Daglun, who sputtered with indignation.

Varay gave me a shallow nod of greeting. “Welcome back. It was an…unfortunate time for you to disappear.” There was a note of reproach in her voice, but it was shrouded beneath the frost of her icy stoicism.

“Tell me about it.” I glanced meaningfully back at the dwarven lords, all of whom were giving me disapproving glares. I noticed that Carnelian Earthborn, Mica’s father, wasn’t among them.

“There is a situation I thought you would want to be apprised of immediately,” she continued.

Daglun cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should allow Guardian Vajr—”

“Lord Silvershale,” Varay cut in. “Neither the dragons nor your Council of Lords have the authority to command the Lances.”

Daglun’s fists clenched and face flushed. He turned his back on us and began an urgently-whispered conversation with the other dwarven lords present.

The dark-haired asura stepped forward, giving Varay a withering glare. “Arthur Leywin is being escorted directly to Vajrakor. You have no business interrupting us, Lance.” He grabbed me by the upper arm and attempted to drag me along after him.

I planted my feet, causing the dragon to be pulled back mid-step. He tugged once more, but I stood unmoving, aether and anger simmering under my skin, controlled but ever present.

My head turned as I regarded the dragon with a gaze that made him freeze. “Did we not make it clear earlier?”

The dark-haired asura’s eyes narrowed. “What do you—”

“We are not escorting prisoners,” the blond asura interjected, prying his comrade’s hand off of my shoulder. “But it is important that you—”

“It appears that there are more pressing issues that require my attention,” I said formally, giving them a cold, courtly smile. “Inform him of my arrival if you wish.”

The two dragons exchanged an uncertain look, then Wren stepped in. “I’ll accompany you in Arthur’s stead.” Out of the side of his mouth, he added, “And try to keep this all from blowing up in our faces.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the blond asura turned and began to march quickly away. His dark-haired companion lingered a moment, his suspicious gaze shifting between Wren and me, then spun and followed. Wren let out a deep sigh and trailed behind them.

Varay’s dark brown eyes lingered on the asuras before returning to me. “Before you left, an Alacryan woman arrived in the city via some kind of teleportation artifact. She claimed to know you. I’m told that you—”

“Teleportation artifact?”

The memory of my rushed departure from Vildorial crashed into me like a thunderbolt. Daglun had said something about “the Alacryan,” and I had assumed he was talking about Lyra Dreide.

“This Alacryan, what color is her hair?”