Chapter 315. A Foregone Conclusion (Patreon)

Maria watched, listened, and contemplated. She found that stepping back and assuming the role of an observer allowed her to gain novel insights.

She spoke less. Listened more. But it also… disturbed her. Sometimes she worried that she was becoming less than she used to be, a phantom, slowly losing her sense of self. Neither seen nor heard. Disembodied as she was, attached to Ian, she had no material presence. Her impact on the world was filtered through him. Her independence stolen from her.

Willingly given, she reminded herself, not stolen. Ian had never demanded that she give herself to him in this way, melding with him so that he would remain conscious, and she felt his contrition acutely. She helped Ian because she loved him and understood that he had a greater purpose to save their home world. Maria knew her own considerable strength, knew that it wouldn’t be enough. Even Ian’s strength wouldn’t be enough.

But together… she thought it was possible.

She sighed inwardly. If only being together was more balanced.

Giving up her autonomy made her think of personhood in the abstract. What did it mean to be a person moving through the world, an actor, rather than an extra in the background? She considered ascendants, the most powerful and oldest of them who sought solitude. An ascendant like Ancient Ash distanced himself from worldly things, taking on a state of being that Maria likened to her own. Alone, he did not act, even though he had great power. He didn’t even observe, not like Maria did–what was there to observe when he remained stationary and alone?

No, he delved inward, thinking, contemplating, waiting. She didn’t fully understand it. She recognized that great gulfs of time needed to be crossed to obtain new affinities and break through caps on power. Did Ash just… wait? If time was all that was needed, why not simply sleep for thousands of years?

It wasn’t so simple. Floria had lived in her own plane for countless years, wasting away, but never dying. By all rights, she should be an ancient, but as far as Maria knew, the woman had only the affinities she ascended with.

She snapped out of her reverie as the newcomer, Ascendant Lucinda, spoke, derailing the previous chatter between Ian, Red, and Sindragos: “I’m here to discuss Achemiss.”

Ian’s eyes locked onto Lucinda’s. He didn’t speak. He waited for her to explain herself or defer to Sindragos. From Sindragos’s stiff demeanor, Maria thought the latter unlikely. Sindragos seemed surprised by Lucinda’s sudden intrusion.

“You are a discerning man, Ancient Black. You aren’t surprised by my statement.” Lucinda’s lips quirked into a tight smile. “I wonder if you’ve already predicted what I intend to tell you.”

Should I respond? Ian wondered.

Don’t give away more than you need to, Maria advised. Don’t act ignorant, though.

When Ian let the silence linger for several seconds, Lucinda resumed speaking, showing no signs of discomfort or awkwardness. “Do you know the source of Achemiss’s power?”

This time Red spoke. “We know that he possesses an artifact that allows him to pluck souls from mortal planes. He uses these souls of power in his craft.”

Ian cut in. “Achemiss is young, but even a hundred years is enough to obtain mastery of most arts. The source of his power is ingenuity–leveraging what Eternity has given him to accomplish more than far older ascendants, gaining the attention of many.”

Sindragos cocked his head. “You speak favorably of him.”

Ian smiled coldly. “I speak the truth. He is powerful enough that even you fear him.”

Sindragos leaned back, his gaze appraising. “I don’t fear Achemiss–he can’t do anything to me.”

“But neither can you do anything to him,” Ian rejoined. “None of you can challenge him when he’s in his lair. You can’t control him, but you need his creations.” His eyes flashed with rainbow iridescence. Maria felt it rather than saw it. “You think that I can divest Achemiss of the source of his power. You also hope that I’m charitable enough to give it to you but know that I have no reason to make promises. You have no leverage over me.”

Sindragos and Lucinda hid their expressions well, but Maria could tell that they were surprised by Ian’s analysis and harsh candor. She wouldn’t have spoken to the black faction ascendants in such a way, but she trusted Ian’s instincts.

“No leverage?” Lucinda said softly, her gaze shifting to the walls and ceiling. “You are in our citadel. Your affinities are dampened here, but in the depths of Starbreak exist chambers where the suppression is more absolute.”

She let the statement linger. Maria understood the implications clearly: if they incapacitated Ian, they could imprison him in a place where he couldn’t access his affinities, likely a place where even judicious use of his ascendant energy would be insufficient.

Ian’s smile was unconcerned. “The veil is everywhere, even in the depths of this black earth.”

Maria recognized the statement as bravado. Ian had learned much from Karanos about cutting through the veil, but there were places where the veil was hard to pierce, planes where even Karanos would be hard-pressed to escape without exploiting veil vulnerabilities.

We can’t create vulnerabilities large enough to escape from within Starbreak, Maria noted with nervousness. They had tried tearing the veil earlier, in the hours-long interim between arriving at Starbreak and meeting Sindragos. They could pierce it, but not particularly well; the veil was springy, snapping back like thick cords of rubber. They couldn’t tear a slash large enough for a human to cross through.

If I tried long enough, I could potentially create a hole large enough for my head, Ian replied. I would only need to keep my head alive for ten minutes. I could probably do it.

Maria wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t voice her doubts. What was said was said.

“My counteroffer is this: Bring me to Achemiss and if I can claim the source of his power, I will do so. Once it enters my possession, we can negotiate its value. If I deem the task impossible, I will abandon it. In which case, I give you my word that I won’t speak of your intentions toward Achemiss.”

It was a fair offer, one of relatively minimal risk for the black faction. If Ian succeeded, they could negotiate; they at least had a chance of obtaining the artifact. If Ian failed, then there was no harm other than Ian knowing the black faction’s ill intentions toward Achemiss. Because Ancient Black was a recluse without known allegiance to any organizations, if he swore not to speak of the matter, there was little reason to doubt him. Why needlessly make an enemy of the black faction?

The plan also had minimal risk for Ian. He didn’t actually commit to anything. Either Achemiss would die, or Ian would. If the young ancient lived, he’d inherit Achemiss’s possessions, or at least whatever ones the ascendant kept on his person. He could choose to negotiate with the black faction… or not. His words implied a willingness to negotiate but made no promises. Lucinda and Sindragos must have noticed this. Finally, if Ian failed, he’d never be able to speak of the black faction’s machinations anyways.

Sindragos narrowed his eyes. “You knew of our intentions toward Achemiss long before now, didn’t you?”

Ian didn’t respond, playing the part of enigmatic ancient.

“They don’t at all suspect that you listened in on their earlier meeting,” Red noted, speaking to Ian’s mind. Maria heard him by proxy.

“In all fairness, the artifact I used to carry out my spying is… valuable.”

More like priceless, Maria thought. She knew that Suncloud had refused multiple white faction offers to acquire it. Suncloud had only parted with it because she liked Ian and because he promised to give it back in five years. To ascendants, five years was the blink of an eye.

Maria thought that there was another element to Suncloud’s decision, one that was complex and difficult to discern. There was a chance that Ian could lose the artifact or break it, especially when he intended to tangle with Achemiss. If Suncloud valued it so highly, why put it at risk? A fondness for Ian wasn’t enough of a justification. It was irrational.

What had Suncloud seen in Ian that swayed her?

Lucinda turned to Sindragos. She bowed her head and stepped away. “I’ll leave you to your meal.”

“She will relay your proposition to pertinent individuals,” Sindragos stated, his voice deeper than usual, like the low string of a cello. His eyes dropped to his plate. He looked at it with apathy, as though he’d lost his appetite.

Ian speared a roasted carrot and drew it gracefully into his mouth. He smiled. “The seasoning is delicious.” Maria could taste the flavor by proxy–it really was delicious.

Red nodded as he nibbled at a piece of meat caught on his fork. His eyes were round and clear, guileless.

Sindragos’s mouth firmed into a line of discontent, but he, too, dug into the meal. He swallowed once, then sighed. “How would you evaluate your chances against Achemiss?”

“In Eternity, ascendants are defeated through cunning,” Ian replied seriously. “Fighting with our strength is just sparring since dying is meaningless. When you sought to threaten me, you proposed imprisonment.” His face was stony. “Boredom and pain are the enemies of ascendants. With my practice, I inure myself to the pain of the body, felt through the nervous system. I can also defend myself against agonies of the mind. As for boredom–well.” He paused to take another bite of the meal. He chewed slowly, unhurried, and swallowed. With a smile, he continued: “I’m an ancient.”

The implication was obvious.

“To answer your question, any success against Achemiss would depend on deception.”

“If that were really true, then we would have no need of you,” Sindragos replied quietly. “Deception is important, but it is not everything. The predator silently stalks his prey but must eventually pounce.”

“Indeed,” Ian replied. “Is Achemiss an arrogant man?”

“Very,” Sindragos said, “but also paranoid, enormously so. He will not trust you.”

“Trust is unnecessary.” He looked up from his plate and stared Sindragos in the eyes. “I know your true question. You think me well-suited to defeat Achemiss. Lucinda told you of my strengths, including my resistance to Dark affinity. It’s true–and it is why I favor my chances against him if I pounce.”

Maria knew that Ian didn’t favor his chances against Achemiss. He didn’t admit it to anyone verbally, but he only felt foreboding at the thought of their inevitable confrontation. With every day, Maria swore that Ian grew stronger, but she didn’t know if it would be enough.

Sometimes she wished that he’d renege on his promise to Karanos, that Ian would forget his quest to assassinate the devious Death and Dark dual practitioner. He had a return beacon currently on his person. He could leave now–there was nothing stopping him but his integrity and loyalty.

Maria also knew that wasn’t the entire truth. Achemiss considered their home world his only point of personal weakness. The literal only way to truly kill Achemiss was for an ascendant from his home world to use a return beacon on him. The possibility was incredibly improbable. The number of ascendants who were qualified was miniscule. The number who had cause to kill Achemiss, even smaller. And finally, the number with the power to carry out an assassination…

Achemiss’s paranoia was so extreme that even this exceedingly remote possibility of assassination spurred him to destroy his home world. With no home world, there would be no way to use a return beacon on him.

His immortality would be assured.

If Ian failed to kill Achemiss, the untimely end of their world was a foregone conclusion.

It was funny, in a way. Ironic. Achemiss’s desire to remove his only weakness was what would, ultimately, cause his undoing.

If Ian succeeded.

When Ian succeeds, Maria thought. The alternative was unthinkable.