Chapter 289. Ascendant Sel (Patreon)

Euryphel struggled to keep his heart rate under control. Ian’s gaze was piercing enough to bore a hole through Holiday. He was pissed, and that was the last thing they needed. Ian was playing the unflappable Ancient Black–why would he care if he couldn’t use ascendant energy or artifacts?

He’d only had enough time to make two scenarios when Ian dispelled him a few seconds ago. He’d used them both to get information from Kaiwen Chowicz, who had been running scenarios. Within her scenarios, Euryphel had been able to run scenarios of his own, not that he could remember them.

According to Chowicz, Ian had confronted Holiday, demanding that he explain the purpose of such rules. Holiday hadn’t given him any answers. He’d obviously recognized that he was in a scenario.

Beginning practitioners, Euryphel thought, using the words as a curse.

Ian had tried a less aggressive route, still confronting Holiday, but asking about why this year’s competition was different from that of years previous. Holiday had answered him that time. Chowicz had recited the memory to Euryphel five times; Euryphel had used recursive scenarios to collect the subtly different retellings and composite them.

“I’ve always wanted to make a school,” Holiday said.

Ian’s dark façade was inscrutable. “For what purpose?”

Holiday considered for a moment, cocking his head. “Unlearning.”

Ian stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

Holiday chuckled. “The worlds we ascend from teach us bad habits, Ancient Black. People like us are threatening by definition–either to individuals, organizations, or society itself–and never left alone. To stay alive, the strong must exercise strength in all domains. We dominate the opposition and carve out places of security. But in Eternity, we cannot die, and the habits learned in mortal realms become like a poison.”

“A generalization,” Ian said, cognizant that time was running out on Euryphel’s scenario. “Your point, ascendant?”

“Ascendants hold certain assumptions about power.” He grinned, revealing glowing red teeth. “I’d like to break them.”

“A first lesson in the school of unlearning?”

Holiday nodded but sighed. “Unlearning is pointless if you don’t have a new lesson to fill vacancies.”

“Then what is your new lesson?”

Holiday raised an eyebrow. “Telling you the lesson ahead of time would defeat the purpose. Besides, you’re out of time, aren’t you?”

Euryphel nodded, his first out of character motion. A second later, the scenario collapsed.

Euryphel wished he could tell Ian complete messages, warn him not to act rashly. But it was pointless–they could only communicate in scenarios, and only Euryphel would remember them.

Unless Ian left for somewhere secure. But he’d have to come to that conclusion on his own.

In the real world, the executor was little more than a holo projection.

—

“It seems that you’ll be competing,” Lucinda says, speaking into my mind, her eyes curving with mirth. “It is an interesting turn of events.”

Are you sure she’s trying to befriend me? I ask Maria. Lucinda must know I’m not in the mood. If her black faction cronies have been running scenarios, I’d bet an arm and leg that I’ve become more aggressive in them.

You don’t need to compete, Maria points out. Red can select any of the observers to assist him.

But it’s all a game, I retort. If I don’t play along–

Then nothing. What choice do you have? You can’t be seriously considering participating.

I clench my fist. I want Euryphel’s opinion. Or even Karanos’s.

Well, you do have half an hour, Maria says. You could return to your room and the safety of its warding arrays.

How? I ask. Look at the field. It’s completely overgrown by devil’s snare and the ground looks like it’s been pummeled by a magnitude ten earthquake.

Fair point. You could leave the plane, just for a few minutes. Either through the proper entrance, or through the tear in the veil on the mountain.

It’s the best idea yet, I concede. As I turn toward the edge of the platform, Lucinda places her hand on my shoulder. She freezes at my expression, her smile falling.

“Yes, ascendant?” I ask.

“Where are you going?”

“To enjoy my break.” My cape billows behind me, incorporeal wraiths shifting and clawing at the air, gnashing their shadowy fangs. Ascendants get out of my way without being asked and I reach the platform unimpeded.

Until Holiday appears, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Ancient Black,” he says, smiling politely. “Mind if I join you?”

Ian, Maria says, calm.

What is he playing at? I wonder, inwardly seething. Eury should know; he’s no doubt been running scenarios where I interrogate the meddling ascendant.

“If you must,” I reply drily, forcing my lips into a smile.

Your eye is literally twitching, Maria says. You look like you’re in pain.

I’m smiling.

I dispel Euryphel and my shadowy constructs, then plummet from the platform, the air rippling through my black jacket and trousers. The temple-like building where I entered the competition grounds is still standing, the permanent fixture built into the mountainside.

Holiday floats next to me on his back like a carefree otter, his hands cushioning his head. He kicks his signature black leather boots in the air while Ebon Pearl coils herself into the shape of an igloo on his stomach.

“Where are you going?” he asks lightly.

“To enjoy some fresh air.” I land on the marble floor and resummon Euryphel and my wraiths, then proceed through a columned archway, entering the vestibule.

Euryphel establishes eye contact, then widens his eyes slightly. It’s an expression that means, You’re in deep shit.

“Thank you, mute Euryphel, for your insight,” I tell him bitterly. “Y’jeni, what I wouldn’t give to read your mind.”

I glide to the room’s center, where the veil vulnerability is marked by a circle on the ground, and slash out with my hand. Before, I asked Red to pierce the veil; now I have no choice but to do it myself. If anyone in this entire place were to notice that my ascendant energy is blue, rather than red, it would be Holiday.

Euryphel’s cryptic expression sets me on edge. Is this the moment I reveal myself? Is Euryphel warning me to not leave the plane?

It’s too late to turn back now, Maria says. I don’t know what Holiday is planning, but his behavior is both rude and suspect. For now, play along, and do your best to maintain your charade.

Tamping down on my nerves, I devote every ounce of attention to controlling the ascendant energy in my hand. To my relief, none is visible to Holiday’s piercing gaze. I dismiss Euryphel and the wraiths as I fly forward, my feet trailing a few inches from the ground.

Holiday’s hand grips my wrist, preventing me from leaving. He feels my energy as it thrums beneath my skin.

I stare at him, bewildered, as he tugs me through and shuts the veil behind us like he’s closing a curtain. His face is devoid of humor.

“You,” he says, “are playing with fire.” He pulls me into the sky, his grip impossibly strong, evidently empowered by his ascendant energy.

The last plane before the competition grounds is as I remember it. All around us, the terrain is dominated by smooth stones of different sizes, ranging from gravel to hovergloss-size boulders. Holiday leads me across the sky, the two of us moving too fast to speak. Soon the stones give way to mirror-like water, its surface white, like the overcast sky.

Holiday dives into the water and sinks deep beneath the surface. As I reach for my tendrils of Death energy, I pause. I can’t infuse my Death energy tendrils with ascendant energy without giving myself away.

In that moment of indecision, I catch a mouthful of water and sink like a rock.

My mood sours ever further.

I squeeze my eyes shut. With my vital vision, I see Holiday slashing out at the water, the dark gray liquid swirling and gushing through the tear in reality. He throws me through, and I catch myself just before I tumble into the dirt, gracefully swooping into the air to hover upright.

Massive pine trees dominate the surroundings. The ground is moist and teems with insects and microorganisms, sparkling with pockets of white vitality. Nearby, I sense a herd of three-horned deer, even the female does sporting spiked nubs across their heads. Spooked by my appearance, the herd stands still, their ears high and alert.

Water surges forth, saturating the ground and flushing away pine needles. Holiday jets forward like a bullet, and the veil sews shut, cutting off the flow of water.

I resummon the wraiths and Euryphel. Water flows through his ankles, soaking into the earth.

“Ascendant Crimson Teeth,” Euryphel suddenly says, “why do you wish to speak with me?”

Wait, what? I think to Maria. I’m so out of the loop.

Chowicz has been my retainer for decades. You get used to this kind of thing when you buddy up with Regret practitioners. That’s why it’s so important to have a Regret practitioner in your service that you trust unconditionally. Sometimes they’ll surprise you, or do something that seems irrational, but there’s a reason behind it.

I trust him, I say, but this is freaking me out.

Just let it go, she transmits. He’s seized the metaphorical reins. Let him lead us to the best of all possible conclusions.

—

Euryphel snapped back from a Regret scenario… just as Ian summoned him to Eternity.

Damn.

In the real world, Euryphel had only seen Holiday from afar. When he faced the ascendant in his scenarios, he tried to forget who he was talking to. He’s just another practitioner, he told himself repeatedly, even if that was far from the truth.

Holiday was an ascendant, though Euryphel had been somewhat desensitized to the idea of talking to an ascendant through his conversations with Ian. His friend had dispelled much of the mystique that surrounded them. Additionally, seeing the ascendants on the observer platform further normalized their existence, turning them into humans rather than legends.

But Holiday wasn’t just an ascendant. On the surface, his affinity was Beginning, the natural enemy of Regret. That was the first complication. But Holiday also had power–not just strength provided by his affinity and ascendant energy, but political clout. He was an important member of the Hall of Ascension, the organization that sent descendants to the myriad worlds that existed beyond Eternity.

Euryphel could hardly wrap his head around it. Holiday casually sent ascendants down to worlds, ascendants who had the capacity to cause untold carnage. This was the man who possibly had dispatched Ari.

Chowicz had given Euryphel plenty of information regarding Holiday’s plans for the next minute. Holiday first sought to establish total privacy. To that end, he disabled the tiny constructs that other ascendants had placed around Ian to monitor his activities. Ian had noticed them earlier, as they showed up as tiny blips in his vital vision, barely distinguishable.

Euryphel guessed that water alone wouldn’t normally ruin ascendant-made constructs. Holiday had likely used means of his own to disrupt their function, then relied on water to wash them away. While they floundered, he had sent Ian through the veil.

After ensuring privacy, the ascendant’s actions would diverge based on the actions of Ian and the former prince.

Euryphel used the few scenarios that he had time for to play out more intriguing scenes from Chowicz’s retellings. And as he reformed next to Ian in the real world, he decided to play one out.

The executor blinked and took a shallow breath. For this to work, he needed to speak first, seizing the momentum. “Ascendant Crimson Teeth, why do you wish to speak with me?”

If the ascendant was surprised by Euryphel’s sudden animation, he didn’t show it. He just grinned and crossed his arms. “You’re the one confounding the plans of my ascendant guests. It’s the least I could do to introduce myself and receive an introduction in return.” He paused, his gaze flitting to Ian, before returning to the executor. “As you know, I am Ascendant Crimson Teeth, and this lovely lady is Ebon Pearl.”

The ebony snake on his shoulder hissed plaintively.

“Apologies for his brashness,” Ebon Pearl said.

Almost at the same time, Ian transmitted, “I don’t understand what’s happening, but good luck.”

His well wishes had the opposite effect, setting Euryphel’s heart aflutter. Y’jeni, Ian. Just be quiet and let me work.

The former prince walked out of the nest of wraiths, their forms circling around his legs, but leaving his torso free, revealing finely woven black robes. His posture was dignified and proper, and he wore a calm smile like a shield. “I am Ascendant Sel.”