RE: Monarch

Calculating eyes looked me over, as Salven’s spear came to rest at his side. “What you’ve accomplished here today is nothing short of astonishing.”

I panted, my breath hot. Extensive as they’d grown, I was reaching the end of my reserves. My mana was all but gone, my stamina with it. “Really threw a fly in the ointment, calling Zin back at the beginning.”

Salven chuckled. “Couldn’t just let them walk into it without some degree of guilt.” His gaze grew thoughtful. “Speaking of Zin. Would you like to know how a full-blooded dark elf and a violet infernal came to serve in the King’s army?”

Mari’s warning rang clearly in my mind. What was this? Was he baiting me? Was there some sort of trap I wasn’t seeing? If he’d just kept his men in position, he likely would have had me. Probably still did, if he was as good as Mari implied.

I cautiously looked around, spotting no sign of an ambush, monitoring him in my peripheral. If he genuinely wanted to talk, I could use the moment to recover. Considering that he was fresher than me, the moment of respite would cost him more. “Tell me.”

“As part of the plains vanguard, of course.” Salven’s voice was smooth, betraying nothing. “Fighting alongside the Silver Swords in the worst, bloodiest conditions possible, but never counted among their number. Never compensated the same way. Just thrown into battle, after battle, after battle, with nothing to show for it. That’s what Commander Cephur pulled us out of.”

That surprised me. “I… didn’t even know that was a thing that happened.”

“It’s not common knowledge.” Salven gave the spear another spin, and I tensed. He smiled at my reaction. “Did you not think it odd, when King Valen suddenly revised his policies?”

“Yes.” It had shocked me more than anyone.

“My time in the plains was nigh unbearable. But it made me into what I am today. Believe it or not, for that trade, I bear him no ill will. So long as this change is authentic.” He hefted his spear and aimed the tip at me. “Apologies for my earlier coyness. My family in the enclave sends me missives. I’ve been following your exploits for some time. It was my intention to test you today, but after seeing the results, it occurred to me… that you might be one of a handful of people capable of a feat most believe impossible. Not now, of course, but later. And it’s left me with a question that cannot go unanswered.”

“Which is?”

The spear tip remained pointed at me, as Salven’s face grew serious. “If this all proves to be nothing more than a facade to rally support for the coming conflict… and once the arch-mage is slain, the King returns to his previous policy of banishment and persecution. Will you stand against him?”

I thought of Ragnarok. Of Lillian, and the better world I vowed to create for her. I felt a stirring of resistance, of hope that Gil truly had changed for the better. But when I searched for the answer, it was the same as it always had been.

“I want to believe my father’s change is genuine. That if it is purely rational, he will bear no spite toward those who aided him in his time of need. However. Should what you describe come to pass? I will do whatever it takes,” I said.

Salven lowered his spear. This time, when he smiled, it was genuine. “Then I have seen what I needed to see. Thank you for answering my question.” He reached down and plucked the blue ribbon from his ringlet. “However, I will not deny my troops a bit of sport.” His lip quirked. “It may be wise to hurry.”

I rushed past him.

***

The battle had moved to the back corner of the ruins, as Salven’s new arrivals whittled our collective troops down to almost nothing. They’d taken heavy casualties as well, and the number of soldiers that remained with intact ribbons grew scant. When I found Sera, she was propping herself up with her sword’s hilt, the tip of the blade pressed into a crack in the ground, down on one knee. Alten fought a trio of soldiers nearby, trying to buy Sera time while she recovered. She was bleeding heavily, hilt pressing into her forehead as her entire body shuddered.

She saw me, and a wave of panic went through her. “I’m sorry. I tried but they just—”

I shrugged it off, incinerating the ribbon of a man rushing towards us, blocking his strike, pointing out the ribbon, and sending him back towards more of Salven’s men. “You did well. Can you still fight?”

“I—I don’t know. I don’t understand how you’re still going. It’s…” Sera pressed a hand to her chest. “Getting hard to breathe.”

“Vision graying?”

“Yeah.”

“Same here.” There were so few soldiers left on the battlefield, it felt agonizing to even consider this. But I had to say it. “Retreat if you need to. I’ll do my best to finish it.”

“What?” Sera looked at me, shocked. “Cairn, you’re exhausted. What about the regiment? The banner? This is what I’m supposed to be, what’s expected of me.” The anguish in her voice tore at me.

The concerted efforts of six men finally took Alten down, one pulling his ribbon free, only for Alten to punch him in the face.

I shook my head. “Stop. That isn’t you talking, it’s father. Look at what we’ve already accomplished today. It’s not about what you should or shouldn’t do. It’s about what you want. Stay or go. It’s your decision alone. Make your choice. I won’t see you any differently.”

A bright blue projectile shot towards us, large enough to knock us both flat. I let the demonic gauntlet overtake my arm and absorbed it, sending it back with a severe curve. It bounced off the mage’s chest and flattened him.

The men who had finished Alten closed in. I raised a wall of fire in their faces, driving them back and risking a look at Sera, even as the color drained from my vision. Her eyes were shut tightly. All at once they shot open, pupils alight with a wreath of green flame. “Help me up.”

I heaved her up by the arm, and she staggered to her feet, placing her back to mine.

Smelling victory, the last few soldiers came at us hard. Everything blurred as my eyes lost focus, my body moving on instinct. In the chaos, we both snagged one last ribbon each.

It must have been enough to turn the tables.

I didn’t even realize it was over until I heard a tired smattering of applause from the observers and collapsed to my knees.

We’d won.

***

The morale back at the base camp was dismal. Other than Salven, who was more or less impassive, the banner lieutenants and greater regiment seemed to be barely hanging on. There weren’t any serious injuries other than the man I’d evacuated, which spoke to their discipline and self-control more than anything else.

“Come to gloat?” Aetherya glowered at me.

“Actually?” I rubbed the back of my neck. My mana had regenerated enough to use the wind to carry my words. “I concede.”

“And why the hells would you do that?” Zin asked, looking vaguely insulted.

“Because we cheated. Or I cheated, at least, and the others carried out my wishes. Not only did we scout out the area beforehand, we set up traps, established pre-determined strategies, stowed gear in accessible places.” I winced, as their irritation grew. “This is who I am. I place little value in honor. I don’t fight fair. My experiences have tainted the importance I place on such things. Something I’m guessing at least a few of you can relate to. And when we finally face Thoth, the battle against the arch-mage will not be won honorably. Should you choose to be my regiment, know that will not change.”

“Since when have we ever had a choice?” Mari asked.

“Since now,” I sighed. “I’m sorry for the false pretenses I established, and the weight it placed on all of you. It was key to my strategy, but that was all it was. A strategy. Despite the way I presented myself earlier, I have no intention of forcing anyone to follow me, contest or not. Or removing any of you from your hard-fought positions.”

“Then what was the point of it all?” Zin asked.

“To… introduce myself,” I sighed. “Show you what kind of leader I am. I may not fight with honor, but I’ll do anything in my power to win. To protect all of you, even if it costs me. And if I ask you to do something hard, something dangerous that may get you hurt, or worse, I will not make those calls from some castle while you pay the toll. I’ll be right there alongside you, taking the same risks, paying the same price. So it’s truly up to you. Every one of you. If you’d rather keep Cephur as your sole influence and return to the major armies, acting at my father’s behest instead of mine? I’ll smooth the path to ensure that happens. Cephur’s a good man and I chose him for a reason. You’d be in excellent hands.”

Beneath the whispers, there was an undercurrent of respect that hadn’t been there before.

Slowly, Salven stood. “Tainted as it was, he nearly ceded his victory for the sake of an injured man.”

“The sister fought like all seven hells, too,” Zin said.

Mari joined Cephur and Salven, pushing herself up from the stump I sat on. “You know what I think?”

“Guessing we’re all about to hear it—ow,” Thelysea rubbed the back of her head, scowling after Salven cuffed her.

Mari stuck her chin out at me. “I think our new leadership is trying to squirrel his way out of drinks.”

***

The night of drinking was a merry one, spent swapping stories with my regiment. Some of the rank and file still seemed confused about what exactly had happened, but the banner lieutenants’ attitude toward me had shifted, and the soldiers beneath them tentatively followed suit.

The several gold rods’ worth of drinks didn’t hurt either.

I tried to moderate, but there were too many cheers, and drinking songs, and eventually I finally stumbled out, my mind swimming.

Watching the bustle of people coming and going at the late hour, that same unfamiliar sensation of peace washed over me. There was so much beauty in this place, it made me ache thinking of how easily and callously I’d disregarded it in that first life.

Above, the celestial orb hung in the midnight canvas, alight with silver flame. It was an ethereal beacon, a luminary disc of molten silver. The gentle glow that radiated was a tender, caressing luminance that added depth to the darkness, creating a cavalcade of shadows marching upon the earth below. Between the gaps in the buildings, it cast bright fingers of light that gleamed with dust, one of which formed an illuminated line on my right.

One of which looked vaguely like a threshold. It felt familiar, somehow. Like a memory. Or a warning. A line that once crossed, could never be uncrossed, its permanence scrawled forever in the annals of time.

Elphion, the ale is getting to me.

“Cairn,” a voice called from behind me. I drunkenly turned to find Maya had followed me out. There was enough fear in her eyes that it cut through the haze of liquor and sobered me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, not understanding what could have frightened her so.

“Nothing. Just… come back inside?” Maya’s voice was tight, filled with barely controlled panic.

I looked around, doing a full circle, swooning as I searched for any sign of danger. And then realized where we were. Why this street felt so damn familiar.

Gray’s Apothecary was only a few buildings down. Just beyond the threshold of moonlight.

“Was this why you were so upset a few nights ago?” I asked, something heavy settling down over my shoulders. “You came looking for her because you knew I couldn’t?”

And saw what?

Maya nodded too many times, her face transformed by strain into a rictus. “Ni’lend.”

I took a step backward, toward the moonlight. “What happened?”

Maya shook her head, her lip quivering. “Come back inside.”

My breath came in ragged gasps. “What. Happened?”

The rasped words were so quiet I had to strain to hear. “Infaris was right. I couldn’t understand how, or why, or why the hells she would care, until I saw for myself. And I realized how very right she was.” Her voice grew bitter, and a lone tear streaked down Maya’s cheek. “Please Ni’lend. Just let me spare you this. Let me protect you. Please.”

On any other day, for any other reason, I would have listened. But what I saw in the tortured, grieving lines of Maya’s face solidified a knot of terror in my chest. Because she wasn’t grieving for herself. She was grieving for me.

I turned and fled across the threshold.