43 - A Cold Sun (Patreon)

As Uriel set the first handful of earrings down on the desk in front of Lord Wayland, he said tersely, “I don’t lose control and need these for every argument, you know. I don’t plan to cast a spell at you, so getting to properly yell at you right now is actually worth it.”

Golden eyes rolled at him, “Don’t be childish–”

“I’m not,” he interjected, “You want me to prove I can behave. So I’m showing you that I’m not going to bring down the building just because I need to tell you how much of an arrogant arse you’re being.”

“What?” the Paladin asked through clenched teeth.

“It’s not entirely your fault,” he said in mock pity, channeling his inner teenage Dazien to push the man’s buttons, “The Rule of Caste must affect you more after so many years of being stronger than most of the people around you.”

“Why did that sound like you calling me an old man?”

“And despite your age, you seem to think you’re somehow justified to degrade a woman who’s been struggling since arriving in this world to prove that she’s worth more than what she believes. Even though her entire party has been working non-stop to gain her trust and convince her that she’s smart and strong and good,” he was shouting by the end of it, feeling the tingling magic of the earrings right before removing the last one and setting it down to join the rest on the desk, glaring down at the still-seated lord as he pointedly unlatched the Silencer around his neck; he would consider this training.

The veteran Adventurer stood then and Uriel was grateful that he was slightly taller and the lord couldn’t actually look down on him as the man retorted, “She’s also stubborn and reckless!”

“Gods, I wonder where she learned that from?!” he yelled back, “Have you looked in a mirror recently, Lord Paladin of the Avenger?”

“Exactly!” the man surprisingly agreed with him and he felt his anger abate marginally, “I know exactly what she would do because it’s what I would have done at her age!”

“But we’re strong enough to fight!”

“I will not lose you all to Corruption!”

“I swear I’ll make sure they survive–”

“You almost died to them!”

“Yes! Me! Not Dazien, not Phoenix, not Saiya or Rayna. I will do everything in my power to keep them alive and uncorrupted even if it means giving my life,” he promised unflinchingly and the older man pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Then you’re as brash and reckless as Phoenix is and at least she has an excuse! That mentality is exactly what almost killed you!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as they survive–”

“WRONG!” the lord shouted, slamming a fist down on the desk so hard that it actually splintered leaving an indent of a fist embedded in the magical wood.

Silence fell between them for a moment before Lord Wayland lifted the offending fist to run through his golden hair. The Paladin slowly walked around the desk to get within arms’ reach of him before speaking in a calmer voice, “You’re wrong, Uriel. Your life matters. Even if you don’t believe so, trust that it matters to others. It matters to your partner, your party, and me.”

The Mage was a bit stunned by the words until the older man placed a hand on his shoulder and said softly, “I know I’m hard most of the time but I care–”

“Stop it!” he shouted, shaking off the lord’s touch and pushing away from the Emerald Caster, “You do not get to treat me like a son! Daze and Phoenix may want a dad but I had a father!”

It was at that point he realized he should have kept the stupid earrings on as his voice broke slightly when he yelled, “It was his blood on my hands all those years ago, remember?! I am an Annihilator!”

“Hey, I was on your side back then,” the Paladin countered.

Uriel scoffed, feeling the heat rise to his face in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time, “You let them chain me up like the monster you know I am!”

“Better chained than dead!” Paul yelled back at him before gesturing out toward the window behind the slightly mangled desk, “Which is what some people involved thought we should do with you, remember?”

That reminded him of the question he had been meaning to ask the Paladin for a while now, “Why haven't you told Phoenix about me?”

“Because she deserves to be told by you. Because you deserve the choice of who you confide in. You aren't like the other tainted souls I’ve had to put down; you didn’t choose what was done to you. You deserve the chance to prove yourself,” Lord Wayland said with determination.

He couldn’t help but scowl, “And I haven’t done that yet, have I? I haven’t saved even a fraction of the lives I’ve claimed.”

“That you were forced to claim,” the Paladin corrected, “Intention matters.”

The Mage scoffed again at the absurd distinction, “Does a monster always choose to be born as they are? Even freshly spawned, we are quick to kill them. Why am I any different?”

“Because you were the victim!” Paul yelled, throwing both hands up, pacing a few steps, “You didn’t kill because you wanted to!” he added then returned to face him, “I might have been unsure years ago when I first found you on that gods forsaken island but I’ve been watching you with Phoenix. You’ve already proven that you can change; that you want to be better.”

“It doesn’t matter what the monster might want,” he grumbled, his anger slowly diminishing, “Only that in the end they still hurt everyone; they’re still a monster.”

“Unless they become something new, like a Familiar.”

Uriel narrowed his eyes at the man, “Are you suggesting that I give up the path of the Caster for that of the Familiar?”

Paul actually chuckled at that and shook his head, “No... No, I just meant that who or what you are isn’t carved in stone. It’s a lesson that even I learned only recently. The people you surround yourself with and bind your future to have a tendency to change you to be more like them. So we should keep surrounding ourselves with good people that try their best to save others.”

He paused at that, before asking incredulously, “Then why are you trying to stop all of us from doing exactly that: saving others?”

The door opened again at that moment and both men turned to look at the intruder who was already talking before the door had even finished swinging open, “Alright, Lord Paladin, time’s up we really should be go–oh!”

Everin froze upon registering Uriel’s presence, icy eyes narrowing at him for a moment before moving on to Paul and giving the man a coy smile, “Am I interrupting?”

“Yes–”

“No,” the Paladin spoke over him, “Mister Karislian was just leaving to rejoin his party on the wall.”

Before he could protest further, the Wrath Blade added, “You can let the others know that once I’m ready to ascend to Ruby I’ll come collect you to be with me for it, if any of you wish to be there, and then you all can join the battle.”

Uriel became slightly mollified but he clarified, “And you’ll apologize to Phoenix then?”

Lord Wayland grimaced at him but nodded, “I would have sooner but it looks like the battle calls.”

The Mage nodded, grabbing the handful of golden earrings off the floor where they had fallen when the lord had assaulted the furniture, reclasped the Silencer, and stalked out of the room. He wasn’t quite satisfied with the results but glad it hadn’t ended much worse.

Before he could leave, the Cleric spoke up, “My goddess disapproves of the chains you silence yourself with.”

“Just one more person to add to the list of people who disapprove of me,” Uriel growled as he left to find his party.

Paul didn’t have much time to ruminate on his argument with the young Cataclysm Mage, unsure if he had actually managed to shrink the rift between them or blow it wide open. Perhaps after the battle he could try again, sit him down and explain his perspective better, and try to understand Uriel’s more.

The brief pondering was soon overridden by the demands of the new position he found himself in. Agatha had stamped his blasted license yet again, making him an actual Officer who could regularly lead expeditionary forces, composed of multiple parties, on his own along with other various duties.

This particular strike force wasn’t so much a collection of parties but a hodgepodge of the Emerald Crafter Casters that had managed to survive so far, a spattering of clergy members that included the rebel fox, and a handful of Emerald Caste Adventurers that had freshly ascended in the last couple of months with the increased availability of challenges near the tundra for them.

“A cold sun rises, Lord Paladin,” Everin said from beside him as they quickly moved across the landscape as the sun peeked above the mountains to the southeast. It did appear cold as it sat alone against the clear blue sky and reflected off the fresh white snow covering the land.

“Poetic,” he stated, maintaining the pace for the whole group of lower-level Emeralds spread out and trailing behind them.

“It feels appropriate for times like this,” the voxen replied, “Going to battle. Facing an enemy of unknown yet terrifying strength. Hoping for victory and fearing defeat. These are the troubling times that the people will sing songs about, write epic tales, and heart-wrenching poems.”

The lord simply nodded, unable to disagree with that statement entirely, though he wasn’t sure if their particular story on this lonely, and rather weak, tundra would last the test of time. Many fascinating stories became lost in the annals of history, after all.

“Are you certain about these tactics, Lord Paladin?” Everin asked him yet again and he just gave the fox a look, prompting the man to clarify, “I’m just worried it won’t present enough of a challenge to push you forward into the next Caste. That is the actual goal here, right?”

Paul nodded, “Yes, but you’ll be taking over command while I return to ascend,” he reminded, “Keep to the hit-and-run tactics and you should all do fine. Just pick off the ones on the edges till I return. The scouts said the Emeralds were fairly spread out from each other.”

That was when his senses picked up the first few enemies. A group of Sapphire Caste Dire Frostprowlers. The fluffy felines were eerily obedient as they ran alongside what appeared to be a man, also Sapphire, in black body armor with a glossy black helmet shielding the entire face in a style he had never seen before.

He knew they were no challenge for him in the slightest so he tapped on the magical ear cuff their team had been loaned from the AOA and spoke to the others in their group through the very short-range communication device, “Nuori and Lapsi, handle the group at our ten o’clock then regroup.”

The pair of freshly ascended Emerald Adventurers replied in the affirmative and branched off as the rest continued eastward, dodging a few craters that scarred the land from the various groups that had been clearing the way for them the last few days. He hoped the pockmarks in the terrain would also slow down the various land vessels that were spotted moving toward the capital. Despite not being able to confirm their contents, nobody held any delusions that they would be a good thing for the city.

Their strike team passed a few more Crystal and Sapphire Caste groups of Caged monsters, all escorted by a single Soul Reaper of equivalent Caste, and Paul was starting to suspect that the Caged required the Casters for some reason.

He really wished now that he had followed up better on the research progress of the Soul Cage he had originally recovered months ago which might have given them a knowledge advantage at this point. Despite that fault eventually being rectified, the time was still wasted as they were left deciphering a madman’s notes while starting the research from scratch in a more ethical manner that was being closely monitored from multiple points now instead of blind trust based on tradition.

None of that would help him now, however, as he finally sensed what he had been looking for; an Emerald Caste Caged monster. It was just after midday when he relayed the information and was glad to find their new target was the threat he had been hoping for: the Cave Troll.

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