ARTHUR LEYWIN

Mordain’s story had conjured a discomforting melancholy that sat like a stone in my stomach. My interaction with Lord Eccleiah had been odd from its first moments to the last, and I still couldn’t make much of everything that he’d said and done, especially knowing this new context. It was clear the old asura wanted something from me, but what exchange would be worth the cost of the mourning tears?

Theories ran rampant through my thoughts, but I had no way to confirm them, or even the inclination. Despite the knowledge that some potentially world-shifting game of asuran politics—with me at its center—was happening back in Epheotus, I had immediate concerns requiring consideration right here in Dicathen.

The news that Cecilia was here was unwelcome. Anything she was involved in was likely to be large-scale enough to change the face of the war, but that wasn’t the only reason I was uncomfortable. I didn’t relish the thought of a battle between the Legacy and the dragons, and I wasn’t sure which outcome I feared more: that Cecilia would prove strong enough to kill even full-blooded asuran warriors or that she would fall and Tessia would be destroyed with her.

It felt dangerous not to seek her out immediately, but without gaining insight into Fate, I was unsure how a second battle would prove different than the first.

“Come, Arthur, let us leave Chul to rest and complete his recovery,” Mordain said, patting the unconscious Chul’s hair in a grandfatherly sort of way. “Avier, would you do me the kindness of watching over him until he wakes?”

The green owl bobbed his horned head. “Of course.”

Mordain thanked and dismissed the other two phoenixes before leading me out of the small room. With one last look at Chul, whose body was now swimming with mana, I followed.

Mordain led us downward, walking along the bottom of the broad tunnels, which were clearly designed for flight. We left behind the central nest and entered into smaller, older tunnels, and I realized he was taking me along the same path we’d used to reach the broken Relictombs portal before. Several minutes later, we once again entered the moss-carpeted cave, illuminated by glowing crystals that grew like stalactites down from the ceiling. Unlike before, no portal glowed within the rectangular stone frame in the center of the cave, the aetheric magic having faded.

“What are we doing here?” I finally asked as Mordain knelt down and brushed his fingers over the green and gold moss.

“Speaking where we won’t be overheard,” Mordain said simply. Turning to face me, he eased himself down onto the moss, a strangely mundane action and posture for one so old and inhuman. “You have just come from Epheotus. I can still feel the energy clinging to you.”

Leaning against the cave wall, I crossed my arms and examined Mordain closely. “I did.”

“With so much facing you, you’ve returned from Epheotus and chosen to come straight to me. Fortuitous as it was, I can see only one reason for you to do so,” he said, speaking slowly. “You know I have the keystone.”

I felt my eyes widen, unable to keep the surprise from my face. “So you admit it, then? One of the rebel djinn stole the third keystone and gave it to you?”

Mordain seemed to age before my eyes as he stared into some haunting vision of his past. “Some very few djinn thought they could change the fate of their civilization. Even among those who sought sanctuary with my people, this opinion was rare. The Relictombs wasn’t only a grand library holding all the collected knowledge of the djinn, but it contained pieces of aetheric knowledge that, when solved like a puzzle, could allow insight into influencing fate itself. The djinn, collectively, stored this knowledge in the hope that someone would eventually come along capable of using it in a way that they were not, but those who sought to fight back were ready to attempt the feat themselves, even if it killed them.

“I tried to talk them out of it, preaching the wisdom of their collective, but having cast aside their kin even in the effort to save them, they were not willing to hear such a thing, even from me. But, as more of them went into the Relictombs and failed to return, their quest became more dark and desperate.”

Mordain paused his story, his eyes fluttering closed as if they pained him. “They intended to use this hidden power to sever this world’s connection with Epheotus in order to end the genocide.”

“Would that have worked?” I asked, my own mind turning for the first time to exactly how one might use the aspect of Fate to solve the many problems now facing me.

Mordain’s eyes opened, flashing with anger. I instinctively backed away from him, but the emotion was smothered as quickly as it appeared, and he let out a long, weary sigh. “Epheotus was once a piece of this world, and in a very real way, it still is. If the…bubble surrounding it were to be cut off from this world, Epheotus would slowly starve of mana. The world asurakind has built for themselves would crumble and fade, and eventually the walls separating it from the dimension in which it is housed would wear thin. I do not think I need to extrapolate on what would happen then.”

I swallowed heavily, understanding why this would be a sore subject for the phoenix. “It would have been an entirely different type of genocide. And you couldn’t allow that.”

“No, I could not,” he said, his demeanor simultaneously tense and melancholy. “When they succeeded in claiming this keystone, I destroyed their way into the Relictombs—the same portal, ironically, that you later repaired. Those who were set on their path left, deciding our goals no longer aligned, but most stayed and lived out the rest of their lives here in peace. Like Chul’s father.”

I considered the fiery-tempered warrior, born to two representatives of peaceful clans. He was so different than any of the other members of the Asclepius clan. Or the djinn I had seen, for that matter. “Does he get his temperment from his mother or father?” I asked, suddenly suspicious of something.

Mordain’s mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “Both. Such a pairing. It was exactly that internal fire that brought them together, I think. Dawn was a great warrior. She would have preferred, I think, that our entire clan perish in glorious battle against the Indraths, but she was equally loyal, and when I decided to take all who would come and leave Epheotus, she was also the first in line behind me. And Chul’s father…he was not exactly an ordinary member of the djinn race.”

“It was Chul’s father who took the keystone, wasn’t it?”

Mordain seemed unsurprised by my guess. “It was.”

“But he didn’t leave when the others did?”

Mordain was thoughtful for several long moments. “I convinced him there was more to live for than the growing darkness within his companions. It very nearly came to violence when he decided to stay and keep the keystone, but Dawn…convinced the others that such an action would be unwise.”

“Did he ever solve the keystone?”

Mordain answered with a small shake of his head, and we lapsed into silence. My thoughts were stubbornly quiet; I felt like a child being read a bedtime story, half asleep and no longer able to fully follow what was happening.

Giving myself a little shake, I tried to force myself into the moment as I looked hard into Mordain’s eyes. “You knew I was looking for the keystones, and you’ve had one this entire time. Why keep it from me?”

His expression didn’t change as he mulled over my question. “It is no easy thing, to give a person—any one person—the ability to rewrite the truth of power in this world. How could any one being hold in their hands the key to fate and not succumb to the inevitable corruption of such a thing? I thought then that it was better that the keystones were never solved, and I’m unsure that my opinion has changed overmuch, but…”

He sat up straight and gave me a serious look. “Two worlds at least are caught between the machinations of Kezess and Agrona. I have started to believe that a change in the balance of power is exactly what this world needs, and yet...”

I couldn’t help the wry smile that crossed my face. “How can you know if I’m really the one who should wield this power?”

“How indeed,” Mordain mused, his eyes drifting to the portal frame. “That is, in part, why I allowed Chul to accompany you. He is a pure spirit, passionate but at times almost…childlike. I thought, if any would see through to the heart of you, it would be Chul. He didn’t know,” he added quickly. “I didn’t send him to spy on you, only to get to know you. Through his eyes, I wanted to see who you really are, Arthur Leywin. And…now I have.”

I waited for him to continue, unsurprised by what he had to say about Chul but curious as to where this was going.

“You came to me this day with matters of world-altering importance on your shoulders, and yet, despite not knowing Chul for long, you put all other concerns behind you and had a thought only for him, offering up anything and everything available to you in order to save him without hesitation, even an artifact of quite incalculable wealth.” Mordain’s voice grew slightly husky, and he paused. “Feeling the conflict between the Wraiths and dragons, I knew things were escalating. It suddenly seemed urgent to speak with Chul, to look into his eyes and understand the truth of his experience. Because only someone equally focused and selfless has a chance to touch fate itself and not succumb to the internal desire for power.

“Yet even in that we can see the workings of fate, for if I hadn’t called upon Chul, this attack would not have occurred, and you, Arthur, could not have proven yourself. In turn, I may not have carried enough trust for you to give up the keystone…and in that, I see the proof I need. Fate itself seems to want you to find it, Arthur. But before I can, in good conscience, contribute to your success in this quest, I must know one thing: what will you do with the power, if you can claim it?”

I pulled away from the wall and approached Mordain, sinking down into a cross-legged position at his feet. He shifted his own posture, mirroring me.

“How can I possibly answer that question?” I asked, my voice steady, my mind clear. “To tell you what I will do with the aspect of Fate would be to understand it, but I don’t. I can’t make a judgment until I gain the insight these keystones are leading me toward.” I held Mordain’s gaze firmly, as if I were the ancient and he was hanging on my every word. “You ask too much, and in doing so you condemn the world to fall either to the vision of Kezess Indrath or Agrona Vritra. Your fear has paralyzed you, and so instead of taking a risk and failing, you would choose to fail without trying. That’s the cost of choosing to be passive in a war where loss means the end of everything.”

Mordain’s gaze fell to the gold and green moss between us. Absently, his fingers brushed across the rough surface. Then, unexpectedly, he gave a small laugh. “You offer insults when it would behoove you to be political, even if you have to invent your reasoning. A less honest man would claim to work for peace and the prosperity of all or some other calculated but weightless claim. But you…you speak your own truth, and you speak wisely. I have held myself apart for too long. I will not fight this battle for you, Arthur, but I will no longer stand in your way. You may take the keystone.”

He waved his hand, and mana scooped away the ground at the portal’s base. Unsure what to expect, I was nonetheless surprised as the mana unearthed a skeleton buried several feet beneath the stone rectangle. There was a blue tint to the bones identifying them as something other than human.

A dark matte cube identical to the other keystones floated gently free of the skeleton’s clutching fingers and out of the hole, then the soil settled back in on the hidden grave, and the keystone drifted into my hands.

Despite the weight of it, the cool, slightly rough surface, I was wary. Despite everything, obtaining the very item that I had spent so much time looking for this easily…I needed to make sure.

With a probing tendril of aether, I imbued the cuboid relic.

My mind lurched into the keystone, soaring down and into the expected veil of violet energy. I leaned into it, pushing through the wall until I manifested on the other side. Inside the keystone realm, I found myself surrounded by…I wasn’t entirely sure what.

They looked like scratches in the air, aetheric score marks that burned around the edges. Each one was different, the scratches intersecting like runes, but when I focused my attention on one, it would melt away, revealing even more at the edges of my vision.

My disembodied conscious mind spun around, revealing that the keystone realm was full of these aetheric markings, but everywhere I focused, they vanished, while those on the periphery glowed even more brightly.

Pausing, I took a moment to let my mind settle into place, actively allowing it to unfocus. Looking without looking, I searched the markings around the outer limits of my visible space for meaning. I struggled at first, unable to bring them into focus without looking directly at them. They were little more than blurred shapes hovering within the aetheric air of the keystone realm.

Calling on my years of experience meditating, I let my mind sink deeper into that relaxed state, letting myself see without seeing, not actively attempting to understand but waiting for understanding to come to me as my subconscious puzzled out the shapes.

Family, I realized, recognizing one of the shapes as a carved rune. Protect. Encourage. Shape. Future…

They were all runes. And as I realized this, my gaze shifted to the rune that read “Future,” and it melted away. I started again, slipping into that meditative state and reading the runes. Some repeated, and there were many others besides those first few, but I found myself uncertain. When I’d completed the first keystone, the puzzle—the action I was meant to take—seemed relatively straightforward, even if the solution was not. But here, I saw the pieces clearly enough, but lacked context into what to do or how to move forward.

The startling comparison of the blank space in front of me to the second keystone interrupted my meditative state, and I felt a jolt of worry. What if I’m not seeing the whole puzzle and, like before, something is missing because I lack some sense the djinn had? But my sense of mana had returned as my insight into Realmheart strengthened, and anyway, I realized, this seemed intentional. I just had to figure out what that intent was.

I considered backing out of the keystone and returning to my conversation with Mordain, but meaning seemed to linger just at the edges of my understanding. Just a couple of minutes, I told myself, lapsing back into meditation.

Burden. Insight. Evolve. Family. Learn.

I read each word one by one without focusing on the runes, looking for some pattern or meaning. Protect family. Learn insight. Shape future, I thought, trying to pair them in case my thoughts would trigger some change to my surroundings, but nothing happened. Next, taking what I had learned from the first keystone, I sent out fingers of aether toward the paired runes, attempting to perhaps link them through my power, but when my aether brushed up against the runes, they vanished.

I attempted this experiment a few times with different word pairings, then with matched words, and finally with an entirely random sequence of the runes, but every attempt met with the same result.

Setting that aside, I returned to meditation to resettle my mind. One more minute, then I will leave, I assured myself.

Without making a conscious decision to do so, my thoughts turned to Ellie and Mom. The rune for Family drifted around me and burned against the darkness, so I suppose it was no wonder. But as I thought of them, hoping they were well and wondering what kind of training Ellie had been doing with Gideon and Emily, my thoughts projected visibly into the blank space where the unfocused center of my sight was aimed.

My mother and Ellie, both appearing as I saw them in my mind’s eye, a kind of blend between what they looked like ten years ago and how they looked in the present, hovered in that central space, framed by runes. But some of the runes were fading out, and it took a concentrated effort of will not to turn my gaze away to see which ones.

Instead, I kept that picture clearly in my thoughts and tried to settle my gaze so I could pull the meaning of the floating runes from the periphery of my vision as I’d done before.

Family. Protect. Guide. Love. Insight. Encourage. Grow. Learn. Burden.

My focus twitched to this final rune, and it vanished, as did the image of Ellie and Mom. All the missing words reappeared around the edges of my sight.

Guilt, I read, the word burning out of the darkness brighter than all the others. A subconscious connection, I wondered, or the keystone reacting to my own emotions? My family is not a burden, I thought forcefully, not expecting any response from the keystone.

But I had learned something, and I needed to see if I could repeat it.

Searching the runes through my periphery, I let my mind wander to the nexus of their meaning. This time, I conjured forth an image of the remaining Lances: Mica Earthborn, Bairon Wykes, and Varay Auray. In the image, they were in their uniforms, the white and gold and red not yet bloodied by years of battle, their features unscarred. Just as they had been when their images projected above the streets of Xyrus for all to see.

And while I held the thought of them in my central consciousness, I watched as some runes faded away and others came into focus in my peripheral vision.

Protect. Grow. Overcome. Shape. Fail. Shield. Learn. Burden.

This time I held my focus, not letting the surface meaning of any one rune distract me. I couldn’t interact with the runes via aether, but there had to be some other method of interfacing with the keystone.

Grow. Learn. I held the meaning of these words in my mind, connected them with the Lances. Their meaning, their connection, was obvious. The Lances had to grow and learn if they were going to be able to fight the battles to come, but they had also been an important part of my growth and learning. The runes could be read either way.

When nothing happened, I changed tact. Overcome. Fail. These words both applied to the Lances, but they were contrary, counter to each other. The Lances had failed to defend the continent against Agrona’s superior forces; white core mages just had no chance of defeating Scythes or even Wraiths. But they had overcome their limitations and had never stopped attempting to grow.

Something changed in the atmosphere, a kind of charge resonating between the runes Overcome and Fail.

Reaching out with aether, I again attempted to manipulate the runes, pulling them toward me. This time, they did not vanish, but were drawn from the edge of my vision directly into the center of my immaterial conscious mind, sending bolts of insight like lightning tingling outward through my brain.

I suddenly understood. It was almost simple, a challenge I had inadvertently been preparing myself for through my training with the aether blades, expanding outward with my consciousness as I controlled and reacted to several inputs at once. Through the effort of all those false deaths as I learned to manipulate and control multiple blades at once throughout a broad battlefield, I had been learning to focus in an entirely new way.

And I thought I could see what it was building toward.

Rapidly, I began cycling through thoughts that seemed to form at the nexus of multiple runic meanings, forging a solid picture and then connecting the opposing runes with attached meanings. It required not only considering opposing ideas simultaneously, but actively splitting my thoughts to see a picture differently from multiple perspectives while holding multiple thoughts in my head at the same time.

Like wielding five blades with two hands.

The insight flowed like an open tap. Two or three at a time, the runes faded and the keystone realm became more empty as my mind seemed to bloat with understanding.

With a suddenness that felt disconcerting, the keystone realm was empty, and I was being drawn back through the wall of purple energy. My eyes snapped open as fine black dust ran through my fingers, spilling into the dense carpet of moss.

A pair of bright yellow eyes met mine, and Mordain took a step back. “Arthur? But what…?”

I clenched my fists and tried to calm my breathing as my pulse quickened.

From my back, I could feel it—the new godrune heavy in my mind. As it had before, a name and history presented themselves to me, centuries of design and purpose and intent woven into the insight like a tapestry.

I reached for the ground to push myself up to my feet, only then realizing I was floating above the mossy floor. The atmospheric aether seemed to be pressing against me, like I was woven into it, holding me up against the force of gravity. Moving as if in a trance, I unfolded and stood firmly on my feet, a sudden sense of nostalgia mingling with the excited confusion of my success in the keystone.

“What happened?” Mordain asked, his voice tight, uncertain. To him, I realized, it must have looked like I’d gone catatonic for a brief time as I floated in the air.

“I solved it,” I answered, my voice rich with disbelief. After the long trials of the first two keystones, I couldn’t have dared to hope that the third could be unraveled so quickly. “I have it, Mordain. The third keystone power, another godrune…”

I pushed aether down along my spine and into the godrune. A golden glow suffused the cave as my mind lit up like an endless web of branching starlight spilling across the eternity of my own thoughts.

“A crown,” Mordain said softly, his gaze focused at the top of my head, where I realized the golden light was primarily radiating from. “A crown of light…”

As I tentatively felt for the emanation he was seeing, I understood. “The King’s Gambit…”

I released the godrune, blinking away the aftereffects of its use, breathless. I would need time to fully understand it and what it could do, but if that brief activation was any indication…

“I need to go.” I turned to the door, distracted. “Please have Chul returned safely to Vildorial once he’s—”

A strong hand grasped my wrist, stopping me. “Arthur, before you leave…there's something you must know.” Mordain’s demeanor was suddenly grave.

I forced myself into the moment—difficult after what I’d just experienced—and gave him my complete attention.

“You must be wary. The djinn didn’t reveal much of these keystones, but there was one thing I learned from Chul’s father in later years. The fourth keystone…when you enter it, Arthur, you will not be able to leave again until you have gained the insight it is attempting to teach you. A sort of…failsafe. If the task proves impossible, then your mind will be caught inside the keystone forever. And while you search for insight, your physical body will be vulnerable.”

I considered what he’d said, my jaw clenching as I worked against the building tension under my skin. Finally, I gave him a stiff nod, then turned away.

CECILIA

Keystones, godrunes, aether…Fate.

So much had been revealed, so many details I hadn’t known anything about before. About the past, and even about possible futures…but not all of it mattered. No, I focused on the most important parts.

Arthur is searching for a power that will let him change “fate” itself, but even he doesn’t seem to know what that really means. “But he’s going to be vulnerable when he uses the last ‘keystone,’” I said softly, speaking half to myself, half to Tessia, who I could feel vibrating attentively, just as invested in what we’d learned as I was.

‘This could be it,’ Tessia said, her excitement cut through with a sharp edge of fear. ‘You have to see that, right Cecilia? We have to help Arthur find it, whatever it is. He could—’

I laughed despite myself, then went quickly quiet, remembering where I was. Help him? Why would I? I lifted off the ground, flying swiftly but carefully through the lower branches of the trees. This is my chance to defeat him while he can’t fight back.

Excitement surged inside me, vibrating just under the surface. I realized just how much I had been hoping to avoid another confrontation with Grey, and now I had discovered the answer to how I could defeat him without testing myself against his magic again.

‘Fate itself, Cecilia. You believe Agrona can send you back to some kind of life on Earth, but that Arthur couldn’t even with this new power?’ Tessia asked, her tone one of disbelief.

I sobered slightly, a queasy, guilty sensation writhing inside me like the vines of the elderwood guardian. I know he wouldn’t. After everything Nico and I have done, why would he…

‘I know that’s not true, I know…I…’ Tessia’s assurances faded off, and I could sense her doubt.

Agrona may have wanted to see me strive against Grey in order to grow both our strength, but he’ll never allow Grey to claim this power.

‘I’m in your head,’ Tessia reminded me unnecessarily. ‘I know that you know this is wrong. This isn’t who you wanted to be. In two lives, how many people ever showed you kindness, Cecilia? Not the people who wanted to turn you into a weapon—a monster under their control. But Arthur—Grey—he and Nico were there for you, they still could be, Nico wants—’

“You don’t know what he wants!” I snapped, my voice ringing eerily through the quiet forest. Nico understands me, what’s being asked of me, what I need to do, and he’ll support me. He’s had to make hard decisions just like I have, and I forgive him for them! Just like he f"ives me…

There was something else that I didn’t dare give voice to, something new that creeped out even as I thought about Nico. Before, on Earth, I’d done what I had so that they wouldn’t use Nico against me, because I knew it would come to that eventually. And if I ever turned against Agrona, he would do the same. He could make all that torturous experimentation feel like a walk in the park by comparison, I was certain of it.

Agrona is…he’s my only chance to get what I want.

‘But he’s not, you just—’

“Enough!” I yelled again, louder, and a burst of mana spilled out around me, ripping several trees up by their roots and hurling them away.

A gargantuan insectoid mana beast burst up from the ground, its pincered head snapping this way and that as it searched for the disturbance. Instinctively, I lashed out with a whip of mana, and the mana beast split open from its head all the way deep into the long trunk that was its body. It gave a gurgling, chirping cry and collapsed into a wet heap.

Breathing hard, I sped forward even faster, letting my mind go blank as I felt and thought about nothing except the hurricane rush of wind through my stupid gray hair. Inside my skull, there was blessed silence.

Despite their affinity for hiding themselves, the Wraiths couldn’t completely shroud their presence from me, and it was an easy enough thing to find them again, along with Nico.

I didn’t land, keeping several feet between me and the soggy ground of the marshlands where they were waiting. “Nico, we need to return to Alacrya immediately. There is news Agrona must—”

“I think I’ve found what we need!” Nico burst out with excitement, like a kid on his birthday. He grinned, oblivious. “I decided to search one more dungeon while you were gone, and—”

“Later,” I snapped, eager to reach Agrona while all this information was still relatively fresh in my mind.

Nico’s eyes shone with hurt, and I realized my tone had been much sharper than I’d intended.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, drifting down toward where he was standing and staring up at me. “Nico, I’ve learned things. The rift, the plan, everything else will have to wait now. We need to get to Agrona.”

Nodding, he withdrew his tempus warp from the dimension artifact he wore. “Of course, Cecil.”