RE: Monarch

“I did.” After that, I was at a loss for words.

We parted, and Maya stepped back. She had changed much in the year away. Her dark hair had grown out to shoulder-length and was allowed to hang freely, accented by a simple loop that tied the edges back to the middle in a knot. She was taller. There was a small sliver sized scar at her cheek. But the most notable change was the way she carried herself. The air of nervousness that had colored her mannerisms and speech patterns was gone, replaced with the easygoing confidence of a person who had proven themselves.

“You look good,” I said, noting in amusement as her tail twitched up towards her wrist, then away, diverting course at the last moment.

She snorted. “I am not used to having to look up at you.”

I tilted my head up and looked down my nose. “Yes, everything looks so small from up here.”

“Uh huh. Keep rubbing it in and I’ll shorten your femurs.” Maya laughed, then her face grew solemn as she looked over the inscriptions. “I see you did not heed my advice.”

Guiltily, I ducked my head. “What advice was that?”

“To stay away from inscription magic.”

“It’s...” I paused. I’d done my research. There was some risk to what I was doing, yes. It was the sort of thing that could potentially come back to bite a magician if overtaxed. But the primary concern from inscription magic was magicians who used it to repeatedly cast high-level, difficult spells the soul was not prepared for. That was not my intent. When selecting my inscriptions, only concerns had been practicality and utility. I needed to be able to improvise on the fly, to worm my way out of difficult situations on instinct.

“Yes.” Maya gave me a look that told me this wasn’t the end to the discussion. “Tell me everything.”

I kept it as close to the truth as I was able. The second awakening. That I had a vision warning me of Ephira and the asmodials. How, with Nethtari’s help, I had negotiated with them, and used Ephira’s duplicity to trap her. That I’d allowed Ephira to be killed.

Maya absorbed that in her typical, thoughtful fashion. There was no feeling of judgement or disappointment from her. It was like she was puzzling over a problem.

“You are leaving things out,” she said.

“A bit,” I admitted.

“Are they things that you cannot speak of, of will not speak of?” Maya cocked her head.

“Mostly the former,” I said.

It stung not being able to tell her the whole story, but to be fair, I’m not sure if I would have wanted to. Especially considering the events of the attack itself and the coinciding story of my second awakening. That was too deep, too raw, even now.

The only thing I left out was the cost. The deal I had struck with Ozra. As far as I was concerned, that didn’t affect her. Or anyone really. I was reminded of what the arch-fiend had said about the existential elements of knowing your soul was damned. I had to imagine that extended to the people around me to some extent. Laying that weight at the feet of people who cared for you just seemed...

Cruel.

“How long are you here for?” I asked, changing the topic.

“A day. I had planned to come home earlier, but we were pushing outward into the less explored regions.”

Maya told me tales of the sanctum. Exploration, battles. Her team was talented and well put together, and they had plans to push further out after taking some time to restock and train. The sanctum was more dangerous than in recent years, various creatures and fauna more overtly hostile than they previously had been.

“Oh, and of course, the prize.” Maya reached in her bag, hand first, then down to her shoulder, face a mask of focus as she blindly fumbled for what she was looking for. She fished a silver object out and shoved it into my hand.

It was a silver bangle with crimson inlays in the form of demonic text. I ran my fingers over it, trying to work out the meaning. “Movement? No... shift? Shifting... shifting of what?” I looked up.

“Your demonic is solid, considering how long it has been. She pointed at a word I’d missed. It means shifting of earth,” Maya said, her voice excited.

“Um. It’s an earth magic augment?” I tried.

“It can detect shifting in the plates beneath the sanctum.”

I finally got it. “Meaning you get a heads-up if a section is about to close or open.”

“And the range is incredible.” Maya was almost jumping up and down. “It gives us a huge head start in general. The strongest artifacts come out of those passages, Cairn. I could find something to help us. Maybe even discover an area of the sanctum that hasn’t been seen for thousands of years.”

My outlook darkened as I thought back to the diamond scepter. Yes, I knew all too well exactly how powerful the artifacts from the sanctum could be.

“Just, be careful,” I said. I wanted to be able to go with her, to keep her safe, but that was unrealistic. Maya could take care of herself; she had her group and I had mine.

“Same to you,” Maya said. “You’ll need to deal with Jorra wanting to charge in all the time.”

“And Bell,” I snorted. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure her solution to most problems is to whack them with a sword.”

“Bell?” Maya asked.

“Bellarex. Erdos’s kin. She’s a void specialist.”

“Oh,” Something flitted across Maya’s face, gone before I could identify it. “I know her, I think. Saw her fight in a few festivals. You got lucky. She is a good pick.” Maya clasped her hands behind her back. “I have to get back soon. Maybe, if my team does not plan to depart immediately, I can meet up with you all when you get there? It never hurts to have a life magician standing by on your first couple of forays.

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

----

Seeing Maya again lifted my spirits. It was a tangible reminder, in many ways, of what I was fighting for. There was a part of me that was taken aback at first; she had begun to physically resemble the person who had fought alongside Thoth, who had killed my sister. But she completely lacked the hatred and contempt that dripped from that twisted, alternate version of her.

I began to pack for the sanctum. The events of the enclave loop had taken me by surprise, and I’d grimly made a personal commitment to never be caught so flat-footed again. I shoved dozens of vials and tinctures and poultices into the dimensional bag Ralakos had given me as a gift. The bag wasn’t limitless—not even close, but it prevented me from having to be too choosy about what I took.

After confirming there was space, I also packed everything I would need to create more. The tools and equipment weren’t a substitute for a real lab, but they would do in a pinch. There were also plants and ingredients that were only obtainable within the Sanctum, and Casikas had provided a guidebook of things to look out for. I’d studied it thoroughly and memorized most of it, but took it anyway. Better safe than sorry. Finally, I placed the items that had cost most of my funds. I stacked more than a dozen scrolls within the bag, one after another.

Later that evening, I wandered into The Glistening Gate.

I was surprised to find Persephone out and around, speaking to patrons, playing the part of an ordinary hostess. I caught her eye and she held up a single finger without breaking from whatever she was saying, telling me to wait.

The official story that had been circulated was that Persephone had assisted Ralakos in bringing the asmodial legion back in line. It was one of the pre-requisites for her cooperation. As such, she’d developed something of a reputation for being a hero, and the folk who tried to speak with her more interested in her status than her features, which had to be somewhat novel for the half-demon.

I sidled up to the counter and signaled the bartender, ordering an Oteron.

“What’s the occasion?” the bartender asked.

“Expensive tastes,” I said. In truth, it was a bit of personal celebration. The first moment of relaxation I'd allowed myself in quite some time. The bartender tapped the keg and poured, amber liquid disappearing in the stein beneath a solid inch of foam, then slid the drink over the counter to me. I drank a hearty pull and stifled a cough. It wasn’t yet enough for a buzz, but would be by the end of the stein.

Damn tolerance.

“The boy’s drink is on the house,” Persephone said. She put a hand on my shoulder. “And here I thought you’d been avoiding me.”

“Haven’t you heard?” I asked. “I’m a hermit. I avoid everyone.”

“I do hear things, but I thought it unlikely. From everything I understand, you have a certain proclivity for getting yourself into trouble.”

That was an understatement.

“How’s your son?” I asked, getting ahead of it.

Her smarmy expression faded into something softer. “Brilliant. Absent. It was wonderful to finally have him back, for the whole week it took him to tire of me and depart into the sanctum. Still, it’s better than the alternative.”

Persephone's mismatched eyes bored into me, and it was like having a conversation without words. She knew, all too well, the problem that Bacchus’s existence posed for me. She also knew that there was something off about the fact I had been the messenger sent to meet him and extend Ralakos’s invitation. But she couldn’t argue with the result and had no intention of upsetting the status quo.

“Come,” she beckoned me with a finger. “I have prepared your gifts.”

Gifts? Plural?

I followed her past the counter and through the bar. We entered the office, and she ushered me into a back room. She told me to face the door and I obliged. There was a faint brushing noise like the sound of carpet being lifted followed by a click of metal.

“Okay.”

I turned back around and did a double take. In her hands, Persephone held my sword. Only it wasn’t my sword. I’d left it at the estate, I was confident of that. The blade was almost identical to it, lowhil, dwarven make. She held it out towards me and I took it, looking it over. On closer inspection there were subtle differences. It was better balanced. The weight had shifted slightly, closer to the cross-guard

“Channel the flame, if you would,” Persephone instructed. I called the flame with my free hand. “No,” Persephone pointed to the blade. “Other one.”

She wanted me to call the flame with the hand that held the sword?

I did so, and nearly jumped with the flame inexplicably spread up the blade. It didn’t burn quite as brightly as the rose oil had—but it was more controllable. I banished the flame and it disappeared completely, leaving long outlining patterns on the blade that still glowed purple, cooling down from the heat. I channeled it once more, and it roared to life, then banished it again.

“What... is this?” I asked.

“Cost a fortune.” Persephone rolled her eyes. “Custom ordered from a master smith, cagey on the details. One of a pair. I suspect you know who has the other.”

Bacchus. It made sense his mother wouldn’t send him into the sanctum without arming him properly.

“Why give me this?” I asked.

“Who knows. Perhaps I just had a spare and was feeling generous.”

“Uh huh,” I said. “You’ve always struck me as the generous sort. Almost charitable.”

“You’re terribly rude.” Persephone went to her desk, her back to me, but I saw the hint of a smile on her face. “Fine. It is what it is. My lot has been thrown in with you and Ralakos. I am invested in your survival.

Still not the truth, but closer.

“Speaking of which,” she pulled a small transparent marble out of the desk and tossed it to me.

I caught it. “And this?”

“If you’re ever in a situation that is insurmountable, throw it on the ground and stomp on it. Then run,” Persephone said.

That was alarmingly vague. “Run from the situation? Or run from whatever comes out of the marble?”

“The situation, of course,” Persephone said. But I saw the way her eyes shifted to the side.

“Any particular reason you’re not specifying?” I asked.

“Yes.” And that was all she was going to give me. I had a feeling whatever I was holding in my hands was highly illegal. I made a mental note and placed it in my satchel. Gently.

“Thank you for the gifts.” I bowed to her, and she returned the gesture. She sent me on my way in the direction of one of her merchants, who traded with me at a significant discount. Rope. Chalk to mark passages. Mana-compressed rations.

----

I woke up, sweating and sick to my stomach. It was pitch black in the room. Tentatively, I reached up to feel at my left eye, making sure it was still there, only allowing myself to breathe when I found it, whole and unbloodied.

It was a little after four when I gave up trying to go back to sleep and gathered my things, strapped on my armor, and headed out in the direction of the lifts.

To my surprise, a few other infernals my age had already gathered under the soft glow of the auric moon. Several heads turned my way. A few of them nodded. They had likely been told I’d be departing with them. The first human to set foot in the sanctum in hundreds of years was big news.

I spotted Bell, sitting close to the edge on an upright suitcase, her sheathed sword poking into the pavement.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I sat down beside her.

Bell started, and the haunted look was quickly replaced with a crooked smile. “I kept packing and repacking, making sure I had everything. Then my mind just wouldn’t slow down.”

“Same.”

There was a thump. We both jumped. Jorra had set down a massive oversized rucksack. His head stuck out over the top of it.

I looked at him doubtfully. “Is there anything you didn’t pack?”

He stared at the giant bag. “I’m gonna be pissed if there is.”

The group waited in silence. No one spoke, outside the occasional whisper. We all knew what we were there for. I ran over the objectives in my mind, one final time.

Use the ambient mana of the sanctum and its resources to continue building my magic. Locate someone who could teach me the flame so I could open the dimensional gate. Find Morthus.

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