Chapter 360. Ascendant End (Patreon)

Ian kneaded his forehead, his eyes shut tightly. Next to him, Euryphel lay on the table, his jaw clenched.

He cracked open his eyes and met the former prince’s gaze. No words were needed between them.

Twenty minutes into Maria’s infiltration and they were already in a world of mental pain. Ian practically wanted to throw the transmission artifact away. Thousands of button presses, thousands of overlapping memories stitched together.

“This…” Euryphel sighed. He’d already peeked a minute into the future, buying them at least thirty seconds of mental downtime in reality. They’d been stopping for short breaks since five minutes ago. “Is partaking in this kind of insanity normal in Eternity?”

Ian gave him a blank look.

“My knowledge of Eternity is really quite limited,” Euryphel continued, somewhat out of breath, “mostly to that gathering of ascendants with that madman, Ascendant Crimson Teeth.” He groaned. “I remember one thing clearly–at that gathering, everyone was relying upon Remorse. Peak Remorse.”

Ian exhaled softly. “In my experience, yeah, it’s a shitshow whenever so many ascendants gather in one place. But that’s just how it is when everyone is at least as powerful as you or I and have unlimited time on their hands.” He shook his head. “Eury, is this really how you want to spend our short break?”

The Crowned Executor moaned and weakly flailed his arms. A gust of wind clumsily guided a mug of coffee over his head, then directed it to pour the liquid perfectly into the blonde’s mouth.

“There’s no way you nailed that without Regret,” Ian protested. “This is supposed to be a break… was supposed to be one.”

“You and I both know that there are no breaks,” Euryphel said, his voice suddenly icy. “There’s too much at stake here, Ian. Don’t you feel that pressure mounting in your body, making your muscles tense and vibrate with anticipation? Isn’t your mind constantly calculating plans, even during breaks?”

Ian frowned. “You know, I could force your body to be calm. If you wanted me to.”

“Ian… shut up.”

Silence.

Then laughter, roaring and strained. It was bitter laughter, the kind that stemmed not from humorous circumstances but from a stressful situation.

Ian knew that his offer to Euryphel was completely pointless, in the end. Ian could control his own body, but physiology only controlled so much. His mind was restless.

It was as Eury said–too much rested on this moment, and there was so much uncertainty.

“Again,” Ian said softly. It had been over thirty seconds.

Euryphel sighed, then nodded. He folded his arms across his chest.

And then, they began.

Euryphel’s thoughts were fragmented, frustrating to parse and stitch together, but Ian was getting progressively better at processing them.

Images and sounds streamed into his mind, conjuring a clear scene of Clara Belvaire walking down a well-lit hallway, two military men flanking her. Her head was held high, but there was a sort of feebleness to her that hadn’t been present when Ian first met Clara. A certain… resignation.

Ian didn’t need to use Remorse to understand her. He had taken away her choices and forced her to comply with the Darkseers’ plans. He had persuaded her to help–it’s the right thing, the only way to save the world–but she was still shackled.

She was too important, especially at this juncture–they couldn’t let her make any mistakes. They couldn’t trust her.

Ian suspected that an independent, brilliant scientist like Clara didn’t appreciate such treatment.

Finally, Clara and her associates stood outside a large hangar door with a few letters and numbers spray-painted on it. A light flashed yellow on the side, by a palm-sized pair of buttons. When the light changed to blue, Clara pressed on the top button. With a hiss of air, the door retracted into the ceiling in an instant.

Clara appeared slightly startled. Her eyes flitted to the lich at the room’s center.

“Greetings, illustrious envoy of the Skai’aren,” Clara said.

Ian nodded to himself. So far, so good.

Maria didn’t speak, but inclined her head.

“Accompany me and my companions, Fitson and Bellestoy, to a space that is more accommodating,” she said, “while we wait for the Skai’aren’s true eyes to arrive.”

Is she too forward about sharing information? Ian wondered. It was good for Clara to help Maria understand the situation, but her last sentence was too blunt. He could force her to change what she said, using the necromantic bond. They were seeing the world many seconds ahead, after all.

He considered it… but ultimately dismissed the idea. Clara’s words could be interpreted in another manner–indignant and almost threatening. They revealed that the Sere Consortium knew that Maria was intelligent, who she was–a very illustrious envoy–and that they knew she was there not to observe or act on Ian Dunai’s behalf, but as a threat.

So, under the disguise of voicing a threat–we know what you’re really here for–Clara conveyed critical information to Maria.

The lich smiled but was still silent.

It was Bellestoy who spoke next, his tone saccharine. “Please allow us to escort you.”

Maria took a step forward and all three humans flinched. Her lips remained sealed, but she inclined her head slightly in a nod.

Is she playing mute?

The escorts retreated back into the long hallway, exiting the entry hangar, and walked a short distance to a lift. Bellestoy placed his palm over a projected symbol of a hand over the doors, and they slide open, revealing the platform.

When the lift descended, the transmission artifact lost its utility–its user would appear on top of the elevator, in the shaft, as the platform plummeted.

For several long seconds, Ian and Eury were blind. They didn’t even know if the shaft was heading straight down or changing directions–they had no source of illumination. The only senses they could rely on were sight and hearing, and in the deep shaft, the soft hum of the platform provided no answers.

With a gentle click, the platform stopped, the doors opening to show a long, austere hallway in dark gray, seemingly made out of metal. There were no overhead lights, like in the other part of the compound, just braziers with white burning flames, heatless and smokeless. Powered by arrays, no doubt, but disconnected, not part of a broader array infrastructure.

If a peak End practitioner wished to mess with the lighting, doing so would require manually handling each brazier.

Not that you actually know this, Ian thought scathingly. These are just things that you think you know because of your affinity.

The trio of humans and the lich headed for a vault at the end of the hall. Bellestoy and Fitson were both needed to open it, the duo straining to turn the mechanism. But with a sigh, it popped open, revealing a room that was cramped and utterly lightless.

When Clara stepped inside, braziers on the sides flared to life, basking the room in a cold, inhospitable glow. Ian guessed it was supposed to be intimidating, not that Maria would be able to appreciate the ominous lights when she saw everything in shades of vitality. There were no chairs, no tables. The floor was covered in a layer of an odd, shiny substance that looked rubbery.

Clara sat down on her knees, her legs folded behind her. “Thank you for the escort,” she said. “One is enough to keep our illustrious guest company. It’s more…” She trailed off, then smiled. “Intimate.”

The two men looked uncertain. Fitson nudged his companion. Frowning, Bellestoy said, “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” Clara said resolutely. “Dunai has expressed his desire to work with me–to have me share the rift locations and reveal the classified subject. Our illustrious envoy will not hurt me. On the contrary, perhaps, when it is just us”–she flashed the lich a questioning look–“our guest will speak.”

The two men’s expressions shifted slightly, despite their attempts to maintain unbothered facades. They had clearly understood what hadn’t been outwardly spoken: the illustrious envoy, the all-powerful lich, would not hurt Clara because of Dunai’s plans. Anyone else, however, may be in danger.

After all, even though a lich was supposedly as smart as a person, they were a dead thing, a necromantic construct, a creature most taboo and deadly. Maybe the lich was a bloodthirsty fiend, killing wantonly without the heavy hand of its master?

Necromancy being spurned has never been more useful, Ian thought. It allowed for Maria to be a wildcard.

Soon, only Maria and Clara remained.

Clara’s expression was polite but cold as she faced the lich. “How was your journey?”

“Uneventful.”

They engaged in small talk back and forth for the next few minutes while waiting for the observers in the security room to fall into complacency. Maria was a bad guest, answering long questions with single words.

In the scenarios, Ian began tipping the two women off by compelling Clara to initiate contact through the necromantic oath. She would find some way to touch Maria. If everyone at the compound were paying close attention, they’d notice even a casual caress. But after minutes of dry, almost painful conversation, a small movement could pass unnoticed.

That was the idea, anyway.

They kept using the return beacon on one of the men that had accompanied Clara–General Bellestoy. The man had a sharp gaze and scrutinized every action Clara and Maria made while the three-star General Kelvanne, his superior officer, handled everything else.

Bellestoy wasn’t the only one watching, but Ian and Euryphel had realized that nine times out of ten, he was the one to notice something amiss between Clara and Maria. Even as the minutes dragged on, his focus didn’t waver.

It was infuriating.

And then, blessedly…

“Bathroom!” Euryphel thought, pumping his fist and groaning in relief. He mouthed the words, “Thank you!”

Ian chuckled, holding a hand to his mouth. Then, they duo fell into contemplative silence.

This was going to be their best opportunity, especially when Achemiss’s real envoy might arrive any minute and force Clara to accompany it to see the classified subject–and disclose the rift locations. Maria needed to break the oath bindings–get the rift locations–and reform the oath without alerting anyone.

Specifically, she needed to reform the oath right after Clara’s mind was wiped regarding their locations. Because the oath’s activation mechanism was subjective to the bound subject’s memories and perception, the mind wipe was actually a critical part of the strategy. She wouldn’t remember divulging the information to the eavesdroppers and violating the oath. But Maria had to reform the oath as close to the mind wipe as possible to avoid the notice of Sere’s End practitioners.

It seemed like a nearly impossible task. Maria wouldn’t have access to Clara once Achemiss’s real envoy arrived. Additionally, to successfully subvert the oath, Maria would need to destroy and reconstruct it almost immediately after it triggered. Even if Ian suppressed the fallout of Clara knowingly divulging rift locations to people other than Achemiss, End practitioners would notice.

All this meant that Maria would need to break the oath and reconstruct it from afar.

In scenarios, the two men watched as Maria’s fingers brushed up against Clara. Euryphel couldn’t see End arrows as a projection, so they couldn’t see what Maria was doing. They just had to trust her.

Euryphel sighed. “What she’s trying to do… I’d say it was impossible if I hadn’t seen her practice before I left.”

“Externalization of End,” Ian said absently.

“Which requires ascendant energy,” Euryphel added.

“It’s a concept that Ash taught her, though I wonder if she fully grasped the extent of its applications until the Blade of Revelation turned her into a pair of bracers.” Ian snorted. “How did Ash put it? ‘Use the chaos of ascendant energy to ink End directly into existence’?”

Euryphel’s eyes widened. “Is that what she’s doing?” He held out his hand to the light, inspecting his scarred fingers. He clenched his fist. “She’s creating a temporary End anchor on Clara’s body rather than painstakingly constructing an array with fixed foci.” He frowned, then hesitated. “She could be even more dangerous than you. She could use people as carriers for powerful, involuntary oaths that normally require sacrifices, like blood oaths. Ascendant energy could bridge the gap, make the impossible possible… They could spread from person to person, granting her power to control all of them. And since they wouldn’t be active oaths, but dormant seeds allowing Maria to take control from afar, they wouldn’t visibly affect End arrows like most oaths. No one would know.”

Ian just smiled, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “End can be dangerous beyond measure, I agree. But don’t underestimate me… and don’t underestimate Achemiss.”