ARTHUR LEYWIN

It was Lord Eccleiah who met us inside the entrance to Indrath Castle, not Kezess. Although I wasn’t surprised by his presence, I was pretty damned surprised to be there at all, regardless of which asuran lord stood in front of me. I had expected Kezess to shut down Veruhn’s idea—that I should be recognized as a new branch of the asuran race—immediately. Instead, he had agreed to hear the other great lords out, then he and Myre had left.

Now, barely a day after he threatened to murder me, he would be presiding over a meeting where his peers discussed the possibility of my becoming one of them…

“Lord Arthur, Lady Sylvie, so good to see you both again,” Veruhn said, smiling like he meant it and waving us forward excitedly, the skin around his milky white eyes wrinkling.

I peered into those eyes, wondering just what kind of machinations hid behind the cloudy film.

“Hey, I’m here too,” Regis said. My companion was in the form of a large shadow wolf, his back coming up above my hip. Purple flames shimmered around his neck and along his tail, and his bright eyes flicked from face to face, marking each guard and Veruhn himself, vigilant despite his flippantness.

“Well of course you are. You three make up a special kind of trinity, don’t you?” The old leviathan sighed, his thoughts seeming to turn elsewhere. After a long moment, he gestured for us to follow, turned on his heel, and marched quickly along the entrance hall.

There was little time to look around or consider where I was. My mind was occupied with the many potential ways this meeting could go wrong. Since the effects of King’s Gambit, even powered only partially, allowed me to follow several of these threads at once, it also enhanced my ability to delve into the undercurrent of worry.

Veruhn greeted several of the dragons we passed by as he led us deeper into the castle. Although they were respectful to him, most eyes lingered on Sylvie instead. Servants and guards bowed deeply, and a few asuras who might have been Indraths or courtiers from other clans seemed to barely constrain themselves from rushing up to meet her.

I sometimes forget that you’re such a stranger to your own people, I thought as an asura with radiant blond hair and lilac eyes tripped over his own feet as he tried to bow but forgot to stop walking first.

Sylvie gave the young man an empathetic smile as we walked past. ‘I can’t help but wonder if that otherness was on purpose. My grandfather didn’t know who I was, really, or what I would become. Keeping me at arms length—a curiosity rather than a member of the family—created a buffer to ensure I didn’t negatively impact the Indrath clan or Epheotus.’

Padding quietly beside me, Regis looked up at Sylvie. ‘The dude’s scared of what you represent. Change, an alternative path, an existence outside his little bubble.’ His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth as he grinned. ‘He’s right to be. The prodigal princess returned.’ Regis snorted. ‘Two princesses, in fact.’

As Veruhn led us, he kept up a steady stream of small talk, providing facts about the other inhabitants of the castle, the portraits we passed, and the history of Clan Indrath and Kezess. I listened with one branch of my thoughts, but my main focus remained on preparing for the following meeting.

‘You know, Regis, you could be a princess too, if you wanted,’ Sylvie thought back to our companion. ‘If Arthur becomes Lord Leywin, and you are born directly to him, then you become a princess.’

‘Excuse me, but I am a magnificent weapon of untold destruction!’ With a snort, Regis padded ahead, moving to walk beside Veruhn.

‘That’s no reason why you can’t wear a tiara.’ She glanced at me. ‘Especially if you choose one that matches Arthur’s.’

I caught Sylvie’s eye, and we both smiled. Some of the tension eased.

Veruhn led us out onto a balcony that overlooked the cliffside. Although blue skies stretched away in every direction, a carpet of white-gray clouds hid the distant ground. “We’ll take a shortcut, I think.” He lifted up from the ground and drifted like a wisp of cloud, moving slowly upward.

Regis became incorporeal and moved into my core before Sylvie and I followed. Despite his claims of taking a shortcut, Veruhn’s flight was unhurried, like mist on a gentle wind. He pointed out windows and turrets, statues and engravings, and even stopped to admire the nest of a small bird with shimmering black and red feathers.

“Mountain Wings,” Veruhn explained with a look of pure, childish fascination as his milky eyes stared at the bird. “Also called the stonecunning swallow or cliff swallow. They only live here, although they usually do not nest this high, preferring the cliffs of Mount Geolus below.” He turned his head toward Sylvie. “They were a favorite of your mother’s.”

Sylvie raised a hand toward the bird in its nest, hesitated, and pulled back. It watched her warily with beetle-black eyes. “It’s lovely.”

Veruhn drifted onward, leading us toward a high balcony in one of the many towers. He landed lightly as a feather, then turned his face up toward the sun as he waited for us to land as well. “Ah. A beautiful day for politics.” One brow raised, he faced me. “Are you ready, Arthur?”

I considered everything I knew—and the vast ocean of what I didn’t—and gave the old leviathan a tight-lipped smile. “I suppose we will know soon enough.”

The balcony doors, made of glass or crystal framed in ornate coiling vines of silver, opened as Veruhn approached. The mana and aether were so thick in the air that it nearly hid the powerful signatures of those present within the chamber beyond.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light as I stepped into the tower behind Veruhn. In that twilight moment where it felt like I moved between worlds, the hair on the back of my neck stood and my skin roughened with goosebumps as I felt the hungry eyes of predators following me.

The airy chamber clarified.

Within, elegant white arches wrapped around the circular chamber, each one carefully carved and molded to look like the branches of thin trees. These opened to similarly arched windows and balconies identical to the one I’d just stepped in from. The light of these many windows and glass doors reflected around the room, making it almost as bright within the chamber as without.

A large charwood table in the shape of a near-full moon dominated the space. Its darkness was in stark contrast to the brightness of the walls and ceiling. Seven ornate, high-backed chairs sat equidistant along the rounded side of the table, while a silver and gold throne with gleaming gemstones floated several inches off the floor at the flat side.

We were not the first to arrive.

An asura with dusky skin and smoky orange hair pulled back in a bun stood from the nearest chair. He wore a flowing sort of robe reminiscent of the kimonos of Earth, expertly embroidered in shimmering thread that looked like true flame against the silky black fabric. His gray eyes seemed to take all of me in within a breath, and then he turned and gave a shallow bow to Lord Eccleiah: the gesture of an equal.

“Lord Novis of Clan Avignis,” I said, addressing the phoenix member of the Great Eight with a bow that was only slightly deeper than that shared by Veruhn and this phoenix. I hadn’t been named an asura—or the lord of an entire clan or race—just yet. It was important not to come across as too presumptuous, but I also couldn’t afford to be seen as weak or timorous, either.

“Arthur Leywin, a pleasure to—”

“Hello!” a sharp, airy voice cut across Lord Avignis’s words.

The speaker was a small woman with light blue skin that seemed to…move, almost as if she weren’t quite corporeal. She had drifted out of her chair and was floating across the massive black table, bobbing around like an apple in a shallow stream. Her youthful face was split by a wide grin, revealing brilliantly white teeth that came to points. Her misty blue-gray eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she did a kind of midair curtsey. Her dress, which seemed like nothing so much as a sort of windy mist that she’d wrapped herself in, fluttered at the motion.

One small hand brushed through white hair that similarly floated around her head like a cloud. “I’m Lady Aerind, but as a soon-to-be member of the Great Eight—or Nine, but that doesn’t work quite the same—you can call me Nephele!”

Before I could respond, the sylph did a flip in the air, flew to the room’s third occupant, and wrapped her arm around the extremely tall woman’s shoulder. “And this is Mads!”

The woman stood stiffly, her features practically carved of wood. As I looked more closely, I thought I could see faint lines in her skin that did, in fact, remind me of tree bark. “Please, Lady Aerind, show some sense of decorum,” she said, stepping sideways to break free of the grinning sylph. “Greetings, Arthur Leywin. I am Lady Mapellia, representative of my clan and all the hamadryads among the other great clans of Epheotus. You are…welcome.”

There was a slight hesitation that suggested quite strongly that I was not, in fact, welcome, and I looked more closely at the high lady of the hamadrayds. There was no flicker of hostility in her butter-yellow eyes despite the severity of her expression and attitude. Outwardly she would have been intimidating, but the simple river-blue gown that clung to her reedy figure and volumes of green hair that fell in thick ringlets down over her bare shoulders served to undercut this impression.

I repeated my careful bow. “Thank you, Lady Mapellia.”

“Mads!” Lady Aerind said in a stage whisper before bobbing back to her seat.

“My name is Morwenna, Lady Aerind,” the hamadryad said in exasperation.

At this moment, another asura appeared from a stairway beyond an open set of doors carved of some light-colored wood and bound, like much of the room, in silver vines. At first I thought he must be a servant or attendant, mostly because of the fact that he took the stairs instead of flying or simply appearing in the meeting chamber. Then, I fully registered him.

Although dressed plainly in a beige shirt that stretched over his broad chest and bulging muscles, the belt that kept up his leather breeches was inlaid with gold and studded with strange, multicolored gemstones. His beard was long and bushy but otherwise well maintained, and he wore diamond studs in his ears. There was something very solid about the man, and his mana signature immediately reminded me of Wren.

“Ah, Radix, perfect timing as always,” Veruhn said, putting his hand on my back and gently guiding me around the table. Behind me, I heard Lord Avignis introduce himself to Sylvie.

“So this is the pup, eh?” The man—Radix of Clan Grandus I now knew—strode forward and shook Veruhn’s hand roughly. I had at first taken him to be a few inches shorter than myself, but as he’d approached, he seemed to grow. By the time he extended his hand to me, he was exactly my height.

I shook his hand, which was rough at stone. His fingers clasped my hand with enough strength to shatter bone if my body hadn’t been strengthened by aether. Whereas the other lords had so far focused entirely on me, Radix looked right through me to Regis. His flint-black eyes narrowed.

“Is that the signature of Wren of Clan Kain, fourth of his name?” he rumbled.

Instead of waiting for confirmation, he brushed past me and knelt in front of Regis, who watched him warily. My companion’s eyes widened when Radix took him by the jaw, forcing his mouth open. The titan inspected Regis’s mouth like a tinker might inspect a horse.

“Hm.” He said only that, then stood, scratched Regis behind the ear, and finally tossed him what looked like a piece of dried meat that had appeared as if from nowhere.

“I feel strangely violated yet flattered,” Regis said while chewing the meat. “And my god is this jerky good. What even is this?”

Radix slumped into his seat and kicked one booted foot up on the table. “That’s a special treat usually reserved for our guardian beasts.”

‘When you’re an asuran lord and member of the Fine Nine or whatever, you have to get that recipe,’ Regis thought desperately. ‘I don’t care if we have to go to war over it.’

One of the balcony doors opened of its own accord, and shadow condensed within it. From the shadow stepped a thin man in black battlerobes. His dark red eyes flicked around the room rapidly before catching on me. He fiddled with one of his horns, which sprouted from his forehead and swept back before curving forward again, pointing at me like two spears.

I was caught off guard by the basilisk’s sudden appearance. I had known, logically, that Clan Kothan represented the basilisks in the Great Eight, but I had failed to consider that he would actually be present.

Making a snap decision, I strode around the table toward him. The basilisk watched me approach warily. Not out of fear, I thought, but uncertainty about me or my intentions. I stopped before him and extended my hand, just as Radix had done. Lord Kothan’s deep red eyes flicked past me to where I knew Lord Avignis stood. Are they allies? I wondered. It made a kind of sense; both the basilisks and phoenixes had lost their great clans in the Vritra and the Asclepius. The part of my mind that was active with the magic of King’s Gambit began dissecting this information.

After a beat of hesitation, the basilisk took my hand. Despite his somewhat frail appearance, he had a strong grip. “Arthur Leywin. The human who felled Agrona Vritra.” Suddenly he released my hand and went to one knee. The air in the chamber seemed to grow very tense, and I could feel the weight of the others’ attention threaten to bring me to my own knees. “I, Rai Kothan, representative of Clan Kothan and all the basilisks of Epheotus, owe you a great debt.” He looked up to meet my gaze, and something blistering and wrathful and dark swam just beneath the surface of his blood-clot eyes. “The Vritra clan nearly destroyed our race in their selfish pursuits. You have brought us justice. That will not soon be forgotten.”

Even with King’s Gambit partially active, I couldn’t think of anything to say and only nodded firmly in response. Thankfully, Sylvie appeared at my side. She extended a hand to Lord Kothan, who took it with the same wariness with which he had watched me earlier. “Lord Kothan. We appreciate your words and the intent behind them, but rest assured, the fight against my father was one we pursued for the good of all living beings across both our worlds. You don’t owe us anything.”

Well said, I thought to her gratefully.

Rai stood and straightened his battlerobes. Without speaking further, he rounded the table and took a seat next to where Lord Avignis was now sitting.

It seems we’re only missing the lord of the pantheons and Kezess himself.

“Arthur, you and Lady Sylvie will join me here,” Veruhn said, gesturing to where a gap had been left between his seat and Radix’s, directly across from Kezess’s throne. “It is customary that you stand until you are either dismissed or, in this case, offered a seat at the table.”

Nephele laughed, and a cool breeze that smelled like sweetshrub and gardenias blew through the chamber. “Oh, this is so interesting.”

I stood in the expected spot, Regis to one side and Sylvie on the other. The six gathered lords and ladies eyed me expectantly for a moment, then as one turned toward the throne. Suddenly Kezess was sitting in it. There was no flash of light, no sense of movement, only a ripple in the aether.

His gaze settled on the only empty seat at the table. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to look at Lady Mapellia. “Lord Thyestes is purposefully taking his time, it seems, but he will be here momentarily. Until then, we shall wait. In silence.”

At his left hand, Lady Mapellia sat stiffly. Beside her, Nephele fidgeted restlessly. The rest of the lords’ demeanors landed somewhere in between. Kezess’s gaze settled not on me but his granddaughter.

Veruhn caught my eye as I was looking around and gave me a subtle wink.

A full minute passed in this awkward, forced silence. It was finally broken when a tall, athletic figure landed on the same balcony we had entered from. The doors opened, and he strode in purposefully. This man, who I knew to be Ademir Thyestes, lord of his clan and all the pantheon race, moved like a predator. His four front, forward-facing eyes flicked to me for only an instant before focusing on the empty seat between Lord Grandus and Lord Kothan. The bright purple eyes on the sides of his head moved constantly, however, from one lord to the next, to me and my companions, and regularly back to Kezess.

Kezess watched Lord Thyestes get settled for several long seconds before returning his attention to the room at large. “As we all know why we have been called together—and most, it seems, have already discussed the situation in more private environs—I expect this meeting will be a short one.”

The hamadryad, Lady Mapellia, stood. “It has been suggested that this human, Arthur Leywin, may in fact have evolved beyond being a mere lesser into what might be considered a new branch of the asuran family tree.” She paused and stared around to ensure that everyone had heard. “Our only task today is to decide if this is true. First, we open up this session of the Great Eight to any lord or lady who wishes to express their opinion.” She then sat.

I glanced from the corner of my eye to Veruhn, but he remained still and silent.

Surprisingly, it was Lord Thyestes who stood. He looked straight at me as he said, “It is nothing but wishful thinking that you all engage in. This lesser has killed two of the Thyestes and brought down the Vritra clan as well. None of us wish to believe a lesser could do such a thing, and yet this one has. Instead of acknowledging reality, however, you seek to make him something he is not. Because he is not an asura, and even killing General Aldir of Clan Thyestes can’t make him one.”

Kezess wasn’t watching the pantheon, rather he was inspecting me closely.

Nephele, floating above her seat, let out a huff that made her flutter around. “Only a pantheon would think you earn your way to being an asura by killing people. Ademir! Look at him. That’s no lesser physique. I mean, he even has golden eyes!” She turned thoughtful and looked at Lady Mapellia to her right. “Do lessers normally have golden eyes?”

Morwenna returned her look stone-faced and gave a small shrug.

Ademir sat, his arms crossed. “We’ve all heard by now the tale of Lady Sylvie’s sacrifice and the physical rebirth of both their bodies. Perhaps she gave him some asuran aspect, but how does that match up against the eons of evolution and empowerment that each of our races has gone through?”

Lord Grandus leaned forward, his elbows on the table and his hands folded into his thick beard. “If we look at this boy’s actions, then we are forced to consider how these actions were performed. The actions themselves aren’t the reason we’re here, only the catalyst for the discussion.” His deep voice rumbled through the air so that I felt it in my chest. “My clan has long made it our business to study the advancement of life, and even to mold that advancement. There is no reason, through the application of powerful enough mana or aether arts, that a human couldn’t become something more. And in that event, even if they did not evolve alongside the rest of the asura, a case could also be made for folding them into our culture for a variety of reasons. We should resist the urge to jump to a decision and instead take time to study Arthur further.”

“While study is warranted…” Rai of the basilisk clan, Kothan, had raised a finger into the air as he started speaking. He hesitated in the middle of his sentence, shooting a furtive look to Kezess, who nodded very slightly. “While study is warranted,” he began again, “we shouldn’t overlook the current situation.”

He stood, pressed his palms into the top of the table, and leaned forward. “Agrona Vritra has been a danger to us for many hundreds of years, and his occupation of our motherland—the very soil that birthed Epheotus—has been an insult and a threat. We have been shut off from the growth of the lesser world for too long because of Agrona, and it has blinded us to their progress. Arthur Leywin is standing here as proof of their evolution, and his service in defeating the Vritra clan should be rewarded appropriately.”

“The name asura isn’t merely a title to be traded for political good will!” Ademir snapped.

The meeting dissolved into arguing and bickering. It only ended when Kezess sent out a pulse of King’s Force that drew all attention back to himself.

“We’ve heard base emotional reactions, but none of you have presented any proof, only suggested we find it.” Kezess’s focus shifted to Veruhn. “I was told that this conversation had already begun, encouraging me to bring it into a more formal environment. But I find myself…unconvinced by what I’ve heard here today. Only Lord Thyestes seems to be making sense.”

I noticed Ademir’s jaw tighten and his lips go white as Kezess mentioned him. There was a stony look in his eye that almost might have been hostility. I considered what I had learned about Aldir’s flight from Epheotus and realized that Ademir still harbored some anger about Kezess’s treatment of his clanmate.

Lord Avignis cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Lord Indrath, but I don’t think you’re being fair to Rai. His words bring many questions to my mind. Questions that, I think, would be best answered by Arthur himself.”

The phoenix turned to look at me, his gray eyes smoldering with flame-orange sparks. “We have all been made aware of certain facts, Arthur. You nearly died while channeling the will of a powerful dragon, Sylvia Indrath, but you were saved by your bond with her daughter, Lady Sylvie. The result was that your body became something closer to asura than human. You have a core, but it is made of and manipulates aether instead of mana, empowering your body directly with aether, unlike even the dragons. And you channel certain…aether arts. Such as the ability you used to interrogate the Vritra criminal, Oludari.

“It remains unclear, however, exactly how you disabled Agrona Vritra.” The sparks in his eyes flared, even though the rest of his expression remained passive. “What power did you use?”

The hamadryad, Morwenna of Clan Mapellia, hummed in irritation. “How does this question help us in our consideration of Arthur’s asuran state?”

It was Radix who answered, leaning forward over the table now so that his chest practically rested on top of it. “Of course, Novis! It was necessary for us to take on new forms to contain our growing power, even back before our ancestors forged Epheotus from the soil of the lesser world. In doing so, we branded our mana arts with our own specific strengths. While Arthur’s use of aether is interesting, it is also rather obvious. He was granted the will of a dragon in addition to being bonded to Lady Sylvie here. That alone proves nothing. But this power that captured Agrona…” His steely gaze hammered into me like he was trying to unearth the truth from me with a pickaxe. “What was this power? Is it some lesser ability, or a product of your exposure to the dragons?”

All eyes were on me, so no one else aside from my own companions saw the glare Kezess gave me. The warning was obvious.

Regis, who had sat down and was now scratching his ear with one hind paw, sent me a mental roll of his eyes. ‘Oh screw him. I say tell them. You’re Arthur Leywin, Master of Fate! Cue evil laughter.’

Sylvie shifted beside me. ‘Not to use his language, but Regis may be right. If Kezess has kept the revelation of Fate from the rest of the asura, revealing it may swing things in our favor.’

I thought back to my conversation with Kezess over the fields of lava. Maybe, but we also don’t quite see the whole picture yet.

“All of my magic is aetheric in nature,” I said in answer to the questions that had been posed by Lords Grandus and Avignis. “As I gain insight, I am able to tap into magic held within the conscious aether itself, forming what I’ve called godrunes—pieces of powerful magic that are branded directly into my flesh.”

“Oh, how fascinating!” Nephele said, floating over the table toward me. “Can we see?”

Before I could answer, Veruhn coughed against the back of his hand then stood slowly. Nephele bit her cheek and drifted back to her seat.

Verun’s back straightened segment by segment, giving the impression that he was even older than he looked. His smile as he gazed blindly around the chamber was tremulous. In human terms, he seemed to have aged fifty years between our arrival and now, but I couldn’t tell if it was a show or somehow the result of the conversation itself.

“It is deeply correct that everyone currently gathered at this table is passionate about this conversation,” he said, speaking slowly and enunciating each word carefully. “Never before has such a thing been considered. We asura are slow to grow, slow to change. It is not in our nature. And so we have remained as only eight races since the failure of the wraiths. Even the intermingling of our races has never resulted in a new branch of our long and storied family tree.”

Veruhn paused to collect himself and catch his breath. His milky white eyes seemed to focus above the heads of all those seated at the table. “But we cannot deny what fate has placed right in front of us. For this evolution to happen now, as the situation with Agrona seemed to be building to a full out war, is certainly no mere chance. Arthur’s growth, his transformation, was necessary for both our cultures to survive. Now we have an opportunity that we have never had before: to change and grow as a people, together with the lessers whom we have for so long been apart. Let Clan Leywin speak on their behalf, be their voice. We cannot afford to let their world fester and spawn another Agrona.”

The other asuras regarded Veruhn thoughtful as he struggled to sit back down. I could see how his words had settled over them, changing the direction of the conversation in mere moments.

‘They do not all respect each other, but they do him,’ Sylvie noted. ‘I can’t help but wonder if we’re not being put in the middle of a building power struggle between the asuran clans.’

I traced back the threads of each encounter with Veruhn. Why did he give me the mourning pearls? I wondered yet again. Out loud, I said, “Thank you, Lord Eccleiah. I appreciate your vote of confidence.” After pausing to ensure I had everyone’s attention, I continued, “When I was first told about this…offer, I’ll admit I myself wasn’t entirely sure it was right, or that I even wanted it.”

Ademir’s brows pinched together in a frown, while Morwenna turned her nose up slightly.

“I have a home to return to, and people who rely on me that are probably suffering as we speak. Dicathen and Alacrya need me, not Epheotus.” I let these words sink in.

Kezess was listening politely, his expression otherwise carefully blank. Beside him, Novis whispered something to Rai.

“But listening to you all speak here today, I’ve come to understand something.” At my mental command, Sylvie and Regis took half steps closer to me so that we were almost touching. “Those people do need me to be here. They need me to protect them, and that means having a voice among the asura.”

Nephele had sunk down into her seat properly and had her arms crossed on the table, her chin resting on her forearms. It was difficult to tell if she was enraptured or thinking about something else entirely.

“I may not have been born among the asura, but I have been entwined with your people since before I was even born,” I said firmly. “I have bonded to you, been trained among you, fought beside you and against you. And, like a crucible, the presence of the asura in my life has molded me into something other, something new.”

I looked directly at Radix, who had eased back into his seat bit by bit as I spoke. He was running his fingers through his beard, deep in thought. “Not only have I gained great power and evolved beyond the limitations of my humanity, I, like the asura, have transformed to contain this power.”

Releasing a sudden rush of aether, I fully activated both Realmheart and King’s Gambit. Vibrant aetheric runes burned along my skin and beneath my eyes. My hair lifted up to drift around the crown of light floating above my head. Aether condensed in my channels until it shined through my skin in glowing veins.

My voice resonated as I spoke, the words pieced together from a dozen parallel lines of thought.

“You have asked, and I will answer. The power that I wield is Fate itself.”