RE: Monarch

I was incredibly relieved that, so far, Ralakos had not shown.

No one wanted to move first. Everyone stood across from each other, feet planted, eyes narrowed. The straining tension was insufferably thick.

Mifral, suddenly released by Persephone, shifted backwards on her heels like a leaf lightly caressed by a summer breeze.

Ephira rolled her eyes. “For Nyx’s sake, sit down before you fall down.”

Mifral did as she was told, only to pop right back up, defiant. “No. Not until you explain what he’s doing here.” She pointed the same chubby finger at me again.

“Certainly. This is Sontar. He has been assisting me over the last few months in rooting out some… undesirables… in the Thulian district.” Her gaze flicked to Persephone.

Persephone must have expected what was coming because she didn’t even bother trying to lie. Instead, she glowered at me from across the room. “Careful with that one, Councillor. From my experience, the loyalty of elves is easily bought.”

“As if you didn’t set me up.” I snapped.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Persephone shot back.

“Wait. So.” She traced an invisible line from me to Ephira, to Persephone.

Ephira nodded. “It’s all a bit convoluted. The short version is that Sontar got word of a conspiracy to rob your estate. He didn’t have time to come to me, so instead, he inserted himself into the situation to help mitigate the damage.”

“Mitigate!” Mifral’s face screwed up into a wrinkly mass. “They’re still cleaning up the damage! Thousands of rods. Not to mention—“ she caught herself.

“Not to mention the sapphire you lost?” I asked. I pulled the giant gem from the pocket of my robe and approached her, placing it in her outstretched hand, bowing. “There were three of them, and only one of me. I apologize I was not able to do more.”

From out of Mifral’s view, I saw Persephone visibly deflate.

Mifral stared into the sapphire, and a small sick smile braced her lips. “Well. At least that’s something. Doesn’t excuse you for treating me like a neanderthal though.” Her face grew furious and her furor shifted to Ephira. “You really ought to train your help better.”

The slightest rumble of a growl emitted from Ephira’s throat. I didn’t bother pointing out that I had not, at any point, touched her. It likely wouldn’t have made a difference.

“Of course, Mifral.” Ephira said, clearly losing patience as Mifral pulled a magnifying lens from her pocket to inspect the gem. “However, there are more important matters to discuss. I did not invite this woman, and I suspect, neither did you. Though it is nice to finally get confirmation of the fourth bidder.” Ephira scanned Persephone up and down. “Though I’m not sure why you’d bother letting a half-demon bid on anything. Everyone knows her kind loves to cheat.”

“She’s never been a problem before this scepter nightmare.” Mifral muttered.

Persephone had been visibly deciding whether to stay or leave, and Ephira’s final taunt had made that decision for her. “Really. We’re going there? Why don’t you come down from your tower, councillor? Everyone knows the rumors of how you keep industry under your thumb. Bowing and scraping to the humans. Enforcing the tax mercilessly, then publicly decrying it as if it doesn’t line your pockets. You’re more of a thief than I am.”

“Mifral.” Ephira said, never looking away from Persephone. “You do not know this woman like I do. You have never had a bad experience with her because you have never had anything she truly wanted. She will not stop. The sacking of your home was just the beginning.”

Hands trembling, Mifral visibly quivered at the words, clinging to the hem of her silk skirt. It was clear she wasn’t used to doing this sort of business in person, while Ephira was. If Persephone did nothing, Ephira would demolish any resistance and take what was hers.

As if sensing exactly that, Persephone closed on Mifral, coiling around her like a snake. “The councillor sounds so sure of herself, when in reality, she’s here for the same reason I am. The nobility is an act. The truth is, she’d rob you blind if she could get away with it.”

“An argument that would have carried more weight had you not already gone out of your way to cause Mifral’s pain and suffering.” I extended a hand out towards her, palm up. “Your men had every intention of harming Lady Mifral if she didn’t give up the key to the safe. They would have, had I not intervened.”

“Yes.” Persephone said dryly. “Thank goodness you were there, to protect her. As if you and your master weren’t scouting out the scepter to begin with.”

I heard a deep, booming voice coming from the mess hall doors.

Ralakos.

I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing myself mentally. It didn’t mean anything, not yet. But it certainly wasn’t a good sign. Ralakos strode into the room, his arms moving freely, the easy-going nature that I knew him for all but vanished.

He saw all of us and did a double-take.

“Ephira.” He observed.

“Ralakos,” Ephira retorted, her voice an over-serious mockery of his. “We only need one more member to make this a meeting of the high council.”

Ralakos’s cool white eyes traveled the room, passing over Mifral, Persephone, and finally me. The edge of his mouth pulled upward. “And who is this gem in the rough?”

I was grateful my mask hid my face, as I’m not entirely sure whether I could have quashed the surprise in time. It was unmistakably a callback to the conversation we had in his advanced training room.

Ralakos knew.

All he had to do was take a single look at me, and he knew.

But why not keep it to himself? Why signal me?

Whatever he was doing, he was playing it close.

“My assistant.” Ephira raised a slow eyebrow. “And what are you doing here, Ralakos? Just in the neighborhood?”

“Erdos likes to patrol the surface caves for demons.” Ralakos shrugged. “Sometimes I accompany them. Keeps the nerves sharp in my old age.”

Persephone had a far away look on her face and was clearly regretting her decision to stay. The hate simmering in my direction was not lost on me. I would be wise to stay far away from her districts from now on. It was unfortunate. I didn’t really have anything against her, other than the fact that she had threatened to kill me.

The negotiation continued. Persephone was heated and Ephira’s ire rose until the two were just slightly short of shouting at each other, while Mifral quivered beneath, all but forgotten. Ralakos would chime in with a comment every once in a while but mainly seemed to treat the conversation like an outside observer would. He somehow ended up next to me.

“How goes the air magic?” He whispered conspiratorially to me, his hands behind his back.

I sighed, all at once feeling very silly in my disguise. “It could be better.”

“You’ve been practicing?” Ralakos asked.

“What?”

“With Erdos’s daughter?” He continued, as if this were a completely normal conversation to be having and there wasn’t a civil war brewing right in front of us.

“Yeah. She’s helping me.” I answered.

“She’s lovely.”

“Mhm. Opposite of Erdos.”

Ralakos looked to the side to hide a laugh. There was a sinking feeling in my gut then, as if I’d missed something critical.

It couldn’t hurt to ask. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That it was me?”

“Because you are my student.” Ralakos grinned down at me, and for just a moment, I felt shame for suspecting him, even as fleeting as it was. “Also, I’ve been having you followed—“

“What?!”

“—for reasons we will talk about later.” His smile disappeared, and his gaze went to the hole riddled-roof. A small stream of unsettled dust rained down.

Then another. And another. Until even the argument in front of us faded to quiet, all faces upturned towards the ceiling.

“You sent Kilvius and Nethtari away, correct?” His voice was tense.

“Yes.”

”Good. Hide.” Ralakos said. In a motion so fast it blurred, he called a combination of water and fire, weaving it together into a spell pattern more complex than any I had seen before, like a vibrant never-ending spiral of ovals within lines.

Then, before I could even react, or throw a hand up, he grabbed my shoulder and flung me backwards. Warmth transferred from his hand to my shoulder. He was incredibly strong and the force propelled me across the room.

My head bounced off the ground brutally, and my vision swam. There was a surge of alarm as my arms and legs disappeared, before I realized it was a result of the spell Ralakos cast.

I wasn’t completely invisible—there was still a distortion there if you looked close enough, but it was close.

The roof caved in, and a dozen dark shapes descended. Blue-eyed demons covered in that deep, frothing blackness crashed to the floor. Mifral died instantly, while Persephone dove beneath a nearby table.

I thought I’d seen real magic before, the night of the ambush in the twilight chambers. At the time it was completely overwhelming.

But that was the moment I understood:

I had seen nothing.

What I saw made the fighting in the chambers look like children attacking each other with sticks. There were dozens of demons, perhaps hundreds. An endless horrible stream of ripping claws and tearing teeth and fingers that extended like shadows.

Mifral died almost immediately, bisected diagonally, her mouth frozen open in a permanent fixture of horrified surprise. Persephone tried to run, but was pulled to the ground by a mass of smaller demons with glowing blue horns and torn apart by their clawing hands.

Ephira and Ralakos became gods given form.

Ephira glowed, so brightly she was almost impossible to look at directly, the detailed lines of her form reduced to the glowing mass within a lumen lamp.

She flickered in and out of existence, smiting demons with a sizzling splatter every time she reappeared. I thought it was pure elemental magic, at first, but then she cast what can only be described as an electric firestorm, the roiling cloud she’d used to strike down Shear but in the shape of a tornado.

I knew she’d been holding back, for Mifral’s sake, but I had no idea the extent to which that was true.

Ralakos ran on floating fragments of earth, soaking demons in water so that Ephira could finish them, casting constant morphing waves of fire and flanged discs of stone. The mess hall was reduced to rubble in seconds. Most of the soldiers had died in an initial surprise attack. There were a handful of small groups remaining, all with less than a dozen men.

I caught a glimpse of Erdos and his group being forced back down the path by an onslaught of greater demons.

It was happening again. I wanted to scream, or break something, or anything to let the gods know that I was tired of watching people around me die, and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

Praying, I reached for the air.

It came to me as a breeze, weak and limpid as it had been ever since that first time.

Strong as they were, Ephira and Ralakos were simply too outnumbered. Ephira kept trying to teleport, weave the symbol that I recognized from my scroll, but there were too many, and she was interrupted before being able to complete the spell.

Ralakos was still holding strong.

Then it happened. I saw him for the first time. My bones turned to jelly.

The Arch-Fiend.

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