RE: Monarch

“That’s… it?” I asked dubiously. Veldani looked displeased with my statement, but after all the build up, it felt like something of a let down.

“There’s more that can be done with it. Significantly more. But you’re ignoring the most important part.”

“What is it burning?” Maya asked. “It’s different from a simple fireball spell. It’s not being fueled by mana. It looks like pure elemental magic.” Her voice was almost reverent.

“Good. Smarter than you look. Wrong on the elemental magic front—even in its raw form you wouldn’t be able to levitate it like this or use it as anything more than a spout of flame—but mostly right. Absolution has many basic uses for a combat mage, but it is real value is far more complicated.”

The answer started to dawn on me. “My first thought was that it was burning the air itself. But that shouldn’t be possible. I’ve tried. Even if the spark is shrunk down and controlled to the point it’s practically nothing. It shouldn’t be any different but it is. It is using the air as fuel, isn’t it?”

Veldani nodded. “Go on.”

My excitement grew. “It’s needed to open the dimensional portal—not unlike teleportation, which requires the breaking down and reconstituting of matter. Destruction and composition. The spark isn’t burning the air. It’s cycling it.”

Suddenly, I was questioning everything. I had always assumed that the reason I’d awoken the demon flame was because of my first death. The theory had been a a gut feeling at first, eventually loosely supported by the infernals research of soul degradation and imprints. But this seemed far too intentional and powerful to have happened by accident alone.

“What else can it do?” I asked, my mind racing. The possibilities seemed nearly limitless.

“We can discuss it in your second lesson, tomorrow. This was your first.” Veldani banished the flame. “In which, you’ve put far more together than my other pupil.”

I knew she was trying to persuade me to stay. But the comment conflicted with what I knew about Bacchus. “Really? I found him quite clever.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, he is. Brilliant, even. But he’s spent most of his awakened life suppressing his gift. Fearing it. And that is not the sort of practice that can be unlearned overnight. I might be able to teach him to the third stage, eventually. But he would age out long before that.” Veldani leaned in. “Stay, and I will answer your every question. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but you have an intrinsic understanding of the flame. Don’t waste that.”

I glanced at Maya, curious why she hadn’t revealed her second awakening, and got a subtle shake of the head in return.

I suddenly felt very weary. The exhaustion and hyper vigilance was taking its toll. But I was no more capable of doing what Veldani wanted than I was of resetting the loop. Letting Thoth run rampant, ruining dozens, maybe hundreds of lives while I hid from what I had done. That was not why I came here.

That was not my purpose.

I stood, on uneasy legs, and bowed deeply to Veldani. “We lost a friend, escaping the mausoleum. Given her sacrifice, I cannot sit idly by. I apologize, master, that I cannot accept your guidance. Thank you for the lesson.”

“Bah,” Veldani rolled her eyes, the fight going out of her, and turned to leave. I found I regretted disappointing the woman. She clearly cared deeply for her people, and considered me one of them. “There’s a broken chamber to the east. Bacchus has been exploring it slowly. There’s a good chance it leads back to the heart.”

“Broken chambers are notoriously dangerous.” Maya said, alarmed.

“Yes, well, so is facing down a deity-stricken arch-mage but I don’t see that stopping you. Either way, it’s safer than wading through the mess of demons fighting across the normal routes. I checked it on my way back. It remains undiscovered.”

I smiled, then. She knew we wouldn’t listen. Veldani had a much better measure of us than I expected.

/////

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Morthus asked. I looked at him questioningly as he took an overly long draw from his pipe—with the state of his body that couldn’t be healthy—but deigned not to comment on it.”

“It’s already done,” I said. “I sent my asmodial to contact the arch-fiend. Assuming the minor miracle he’s decided to be reasonable we’ll have everything we need.” Vogrin had listened to my request with barely restrained glee.

“I have to ask, young Cairn, with all these grand schemes, do you even have time to make small plans?” Morthus’s eyebrow quirked in amusement. “Like what clothes to wear the next morning, or what you might have for breakfast?”

“I don’t eat much these days.” I shrugged. “And I have no idea how long I’ve been wearing this shirt.”

“That’s a no then. Damn it all.” With a grunt, followed by a wheeze, Morthus pulled himself out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I have been there, at the vital moments of my people since the day I was born. Great and terrible. This is no different.” Morthus paused as he placed his fingertips upon the bedside armoire, staring straight ahead.

“She won’t let you go.” I told Morthus. “For whatever reason, she seems to hate you.”

“Unsurprising. From what I’ve heard, she hates a great many people. Something that happened in prior iterations no doubt, same as you.” Morthus moved from his bed to the dresser, opening it. He slid a dozen of the simple gray robes they wore in the hospice over, revealing a few things. withdrew his white master’s robe, sliding it carefully over his shoulders. “You must do the same while learning from her mistakes. Catalogue every slight, every failing. But do not allow yourself to hide and grow bitter. Face the mistakes. Both yours and others. Learn from them. I’ve had time to consider your situation in depth, and I have to conclude that this did not happen by accident. Whatever overly ambitious arch-mage, or deity, or demon brought you into this, did so for a reason.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “And I suspect desperation factored into it. Unlike your enemy, you do not have a near-limitless time to get this right.”

“There’s still much I have to learn. About the metamorphosis society, their greater purpose.”

“I have told you much of what I know already. And what is left is of questionable use. Who we were, what we intended to do. Which I suspect, is very different from what we did.”

“But—”

Morthus waved me off. “You’ll need someone with authority, someone to grease the wheels from the inside. I left a list of society members, agency candidates, and some tertiary research in a sealed envelope with Veldani. Now help an old man with his sword.” He indicated a grand weapon at the back of the armoire. I recognized it from the past that Morthus showed me. The weapon that almost struck down Saravan, all those years ago. Though he could not possibly have the strength to wield it, the intent translated across cultures all too easily. No warrior wanted to greet the great beyond without his sword at his side.

A vivid image returned to me of a featureless dark room. Walls that seemed to close in. A parched throat and growling stomach, with only whispers of my mind for company. Then, a man. A violet infernal with strange eyes and ornate horns. A council hearing that would have never happened without his aid. The small kindness of a bag of nuts given to a starving boy who could not die.

Emotion cloyed at my throat as I hefted the sword, attaching the straps to him. “I’m the reason you’re… like this. If you’d never left the Sanctum to intervene, you’d be healthy and well. You should not have to do this for me. Not again.”

Morthus put his hands on my shoulders. “Is that not part of being a leader? Being protected by those around you? People who willing to give their lives for the good of the whole?”

My lips drew together. I thought back to Thoth, about how badly the negotiation had been botched and my immediate willingness to double down on it. “I don’t know if I’ll be a good king.”

“Having heard tale of your efforts in the Enclave, and observed you first hand, I have to agree.”

“Oh?” I blinked, surprised.

“You will be a great one.” Morthus smiled.

/////

Veldani hadn’t exaggerated. As we’d made our way across the thick forest, the sound of battle and chaos rang heavy in the air, and columns of smoke rising from the north-end, where we’d originally entered. Inhumane cries rang out, shattering the natural quiet. We’d barely managed to skirt around the outskirts of a battle. A lone greater demon, asmodial, fought against three Decarabia. Small, child-sized angelic figures dressed in golden flowing garb harried the ogre-like greater demon, picking him apart piece by piece, the black ichor of his blood falling freely, drunk in by the spongy ground, dyeing it black.

The greater demon roared, swatting one of the demons out of the air, grabbing another. Its jaw opened as if unhinged and snapped shut on the angel’s neck. There was a sickening squelch followed by the clicking of teeth. A strange detail stuck out to me in the brutality of the moment. Despite their angelic appearance, the angels bled the same color. Black.

“We getting involved in this?” Jorra asked. He shifted, clearly wanting the fight. I hadn’t seen him sit down since the morning.

Bacchus shook his head, his expression tight, and said nothing.

“The idea of coming this way was to avoid conflict,” Maya pointed out. She gave her brother a lingering look, trying to read him. But his face was inscrutable.

“We do need to save our strength,” I mused. “But it would help to spread the word. I need as many of them at the Heart as I can get.”

“For the plan you refuse to tell us about?” Jorra asked.

“Yes.”

Maya fingered her amulet. “Kastramoth has been moaning in my ear for days. Something about denying him the chance to feast on the conflict.”

I shook my head. “He would have given us away.”

“And the whole thing went south too quickly for you to summon him afterward.” Jorra added.

“I could let him flex a bit,” Maya said.

I drew my sword. “Do it.”

The battle raged between the asmodial and the two lesser demons as Maya summoned. I took the opportunity to study the decerabia. They fought calmly as a unit, absent the sort of malevolent malice that drove the Asmodials to compete with each other. They too—like their Arch-Fiend—were faceless, save one strange exception, eyebrows that framed flat skin. And while it was possible that our two demonstrations of decerabia flying were a coincidence, I doubted it. The Decerabia were always mentioned in the texts as having angelic characteristics, and feathered wings ranked high on that list. That meant we were likely dealing with a mostly airborne enemy. Fast. Hard to trap, difficult to hit. Contrasted with the raw strength and somewhat tactless nature of the asmodials, it was no wonder the two had always clashed.

The scent of blood and shaking beneath my feet announced Kastramoth’s arrival. He snapped at Maya in an irritated voice before he turned, sprinting head first into the fray.

One of the lesser demons was caught on his antlers before the other could react, and slammed savagely into the ground. I winced, watching as one of its wings broke.

The other screeched inhumanly, alternating between attacking Kastramoth’s face and stabbing at his body as he swallowed the first decerabia whole.

“Damn hellhound. My kill!” The asmodial roared, driving a fist into Kastramoth’s nose, a foot away from where the lesser demon was attack. Kastramoth reeled backward and growled.

“We will let the children eat you next time.” Kastramoth sneered.

Caught between two greater demons, the decerabia seemed unsure of what to do. For a split-second, it looked back and forth between its distracted attackers. Then it’s head tipped in my direction.

A bad feeling bloomed in my gut. “Jorra, knock it down!”

With a flap of its wings, it turned and fled. I had no doubt that if we allowed it to get away, Thoth would be close behind. Jorra launched a pressurized geyser of water at it. The angel dodged beneath. He froze the stream so it fell, trying to clip his target, but it swooped over it in a rolling motion that was so smooth it almost looked lazy.

But the maneuver had taken its focus away from what was ahead of it. I summoned a downward gust of air, sending it careening into a nearby tree.

The greater demon we’d aided had been chasing after it and now pounced, landing roughly on top of it. A bloodcurdling screech was cut off by a dull snap.

“How are we going to convince him to help us?” Maya asked.

“Still figuring it out.” I whispered.

When the ogre-like demon returned, his mouth was dyed red, and there were feathers stuck to his barrel of a chest. He approached Kastramoth slowly. Kastramoth snarled, and Maya placed a hand on his leg to silence him before he escalated.

“Leave him be.” Maya said, calmly.

“This one owes me a debt,” The asmodial said.

“He is my charge.”

“Then you owe me a debt.” He looked us over hungrily, before his gaze met mine. Immediately, his attitude changed. He went down on one knee, head bowed. “Friend of the Arch-Fiend. I am sorry. I did not know these belonged to you.” His eyes slid to Kastramoth. “Though I’m not sure why a supplicant of Ozra the Perilous would sully themself with the company of a Hellhound.”

I was reminded yet again how powerful Ozra was, to inspire this level of obedience in beings as stubborn as demons. And despite all that power, Thoth had slapped him aside like he was nothing.

“Rise, Greater Demon. We only wished to aid,” I said.

His brow furrowed. “They were nothing. But I thank you.”

“What are your orders here?” I asked.

The demon shrugged. “To lay waste to the pretenders. And assist if we found you under siege.”

That presented a problem. I had hoped Ozra might—out of some uncharacteristic bout of reticence—have ordered the demons to escort us if they found me. But of course, that was too much to ask.

I considered the situation. Thoth would want a display. A public demonstration of power, both personal and external. And what better way to demonstrate that power than to show up at the heart of the Sanctum, with the full force of a dominant legion in tow.

“Demon,” I said slowly. “What if I told you there was a way for you to do both, in a manner that was sure to make Ozra take notice.”

His eyes narrowed greedily. “Oh?”

I tried to imbue confidence in words that were little more than a theory. “The Decerabia Legion will be consolidating at the Heart, An arch-mage that dealt your master a great insult at their head.”

The demon let out an audible growl at that, his interest sharpening.

I smiled wickedly. “As it happens, I will also be at the heart.”

The demon understood immediately. An evil grin spread across his face, matching mine. “What you’re saying is, there’s going to be a party and I’m invited.”

“Oh yes.” I chuckled. “You and anyone else you can find. Does the legion have a way to spread word quickly?”

“There are fliers, yes. I’ll need to locate a commander but news will spread rapidly after that.”

“Within a day?”

“Easily.” The demon was practically drooling with anticipation. Then he jumped as Maya touched his leg. “What—“

“Healing. For your journey.” There was a flash of green light at her fingertips, and the demon’s many wounds began to heal. He nodded eagerly, practically prancing in anticipation for her to finish. Then he sprinted away, covering bounds of distance in frequent leaps.

Jorra and I watched him go.

“What did you just do?” Jorra asked.

I shrugged. “Bolstered our defenses. Created a deterrent to stop Thoth from taking things too far. She’s raging now, but she’s not stupid. She won’t risk losing such a powerful force this early.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Maya asked.

Jorra shook his head. “You just changed the focal point of the conflict to where the civilians are retreating. If she doesn’t cool off, and attacks anyways…” He didn’t have to finish. It would be a bloodbath.

“She won’t.” I said.

This would work. It had to.

/////

Not long after that, we entered the broken chamber. And everything that seemed so simple in my mind became far more complicated.

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