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120. Sanctum XLV (First Draft)
🕑 Added 2021-12-31 23:44:30 +0000 UTCIf it wasn’t already obvious enough that Thoth was now prioritizing hunting me, the augury shielding rings began vibrating constantly not long after we left. There was a small victory in that, but I wanted to avoid thinking too long on the mechanics of the spell itself, or whose blood she was using. After a brief discussion, we decided that trying to use augury to trick her would be a bad idea. It was far less likely she would take any bait we could think of. More realistically, she would just scour the vision itself for clues to our location. Thoth might not be able to teleport reliably due to Sanctum interference, but there was more than one magical method of moving quickly, and she probably knew them all.
There was no sign of Bell. Jorra kept palming his signal orb, worrying that if Bell called for us and the orb was in his pocket that he might miss it, as unlikely as it was.
I found Morthus at Veldani’s hospice in surprisingly good health. Told him what I needed. He agreed to it, informing me there was a method of calling all Elders and Masters back to the heart of the Sanctum in times of great emergency.
We wanted to keep moving, but Veldani insisted we stay, safely stowed away for what passed as night in the Sanctum.
I dreamed of many things. A warm Auburnswell breeze in a peaceful meadow. Bellarex, beckoning us towards the portal and following behind us, landing with a light yelp right after Jorra did.
Then I dreamed of Whitefall. I floated through the long, stone-paved streets and lit storefronts. I wandered through topside, looking for Gunther’s apothecary, wanting desperately to glimpse Lillian through the window. Only the streets seemed to wind back on themselves and I found myself passing the same cat, a pair of foul-smelling guards, and dilapidated buildings time after time. Eventually, I gave up and made my way to the castle. The way the snow hung on the rooftops filled me with a strange sort of nostalgia. This was the last place I’d expected to miss, but it seemed that I did. I wandered the long marbled hallways, glancing around pillars, seeking someone, anyone familiar.
In all the years I’d spent in this castle, it had never slept, but now laid empty and cold, in a manner that struck me as a strange omen.
When I reached the study, I was surprised to find it occupied. My father was at his desk, his stern face drawn and irritable as he leafed through an endless mountain of documents. Slowly, he looked up at me.
“How long do you expect me to wait?”
I startled awake to the sound of a door slam, my heart racing.
“You made a right mess out there, future apprentice.” Veldani scolded. She threw back the curtains and I winced from the onslaught of light.
Through the haze of sleep dusting my eyes, I saw Maya sit up slowly from the bed across the room, rubbing her face. Jorra’s bed was empty. My heart seized for a moment, before I saw him go running by the window outside, Bacchus in tow. His face was empty of emotion, completely and totally focused.
He’s training.
My mind finally latched onto what Veldani had said. “What do you mean?”
Veldani glared at me, still intimidating despite her short stature. “I mean the Sanctum, boy. Not much of a Sanctum anymore. More like a warzone.
“Dammit.” I had hoped we had more time.
“Language,” Veldani chided me. “The Decarabia and Asmodials seem to be focusing on each other. That’s the good part, as it’s giving the little ones time to get clear. The bad part is there’s a lot of them.
“Somehow I doubt the Decarabia are going to just let us pass like the others.” Maya said, darkly. She’d vocally opposed Veldani’s edict that we take time to rest, and was clearly unhappy that things had gotten worse as we’d slept.
Veldani thrust a finger in Maya’s direction. “Don’t sass me, child.” She indicated me with her head. “This one was dead on his feet. Young ones die every year in the Sanctum due to pride and stupid hubris.”
“I did not—“ Maya started, only to be summarily ignored when Veldani turned to me and continued.
“And you, boy. Do you know how many times conflict between legions has broken out onto the surface levels?” Veldani’s pale eyes flashed.
I winced. “Not in recent memory, as far as I know.”
Veldani sighed as if I had just said something very foolish. “It is easy to forget that you are new to our ways. The answer to the question is never.Since Malmur the Clever penned the contract with the Prime Evils that formed the backbone of our society, the Sanctum has never been the site of anything more than simple skirmishes over demonic resources.”
“Actually, what are the ramifications of that?” Maya’s brow furrowed.
The older woman shrugged. “The many legions won’t care why the Asmodials and Decarabia are here, only that they are. The demons always toe the line until one of them steps over it. They’ll do what they’ve always done. Push.”
“We might be able to mitigate that.” I pushed up from the bed, and found my body was still sore and aching. “Depending on how this plays out, I may be able to leverage the asmodials for aid.”
Veldani’s lip curled. “How casually you make comments of such great magnitude. Hubris indeed. No. Even if you do have the ear of the Arch-Fiend—as Morthus believes you do—the asmodials will not overextend themselves to police the other legions when the Decarabia are actively opposing them. It would be inviting a unified knife to their blackened throats, and demons are not in the habit of such practices.”
Another problem with long-reaching consequences and no clear solution. Another sign I was doing this wrong. Veldani’s voice slipped away as I withdrew into my mind. I clenched a fist, the bedsheet balling in my hand. I saw the deep-black ink of my suicide inscription peeking out just beyond the neckline of my now soiled shirt. Not for the first time, I shifted a bit of mana into the activation sequence, feeling my torso warm. The feeling of warmth trickled upward, tracing ponderous, jagged lines, stopping just below my chest. The inscriber had, after some protest, made something akin to a barrier that had to be overcome where the arcane energy coalesced now, requiring a significant push to break through. Simple enough that I could activate it with little trouble under duress, but not so simple it could be activated reflexively. As little as I recalled about the later Enclave loops, I did remember killing myself accidentally more than once, when my mind started to slip and fear took over. The new inscription required focused intent.
Despite the discussion the previous day, I doubted the decision to continue the current iteration. None of this was panning out as intended. I was supposed to be a hero to the infernals, ushering them into an alliance and the modern age, ending the long history of prejudice and cruelty levied against them by my people. Instead, it felt like all I had accomplished was trading short-term problems for longer-term ones.
All I had now was a desperate plan that was looking more and more unlikely. The only other obvious solution, now burning in my chest, held such a heavy cost.
I reviewed the battle with the corrupted infernals as I had so many times before, looking for the smallest detail I might have missed. There was nothing. I couldn’t protect all three of them, and if I focused too deeply on trying to protect one, the other two would fall. Maya was almost always poisoned. And the chain of events that had formed out of the chaos of the final loop, leading up to that final, hopeless throw of my broken dagger, was astronomically unlikely to happen again.
Which, of course, was why the Black Beast had chosen it. To teach me the lesson that my power was meant to affect the grand-scheme of things, and that not everyone could be saved.
Hollowly, I reviewed the potential gains. The Sanctum would no longer be in peril. Thoth would remove the barrier, and though she was intent on killing me, might be less hostile in the short term. The backing of the asmodial legion would be hidden again, an invaluable card to play at the time of my choosing. Bellarex—the girl I had wounded so deeply and repaid by leading her into a scenario where she likely died—would have a chance to live.
And I knew all too well, because she told me, that Maya was willing to put her life on the line for that.
That was so beautiful, to me. The better world you spoke of… I wanted to see it.
It was a hideous thought. Was I capable of trading Maya—my first real friend, someone I loved, for an outcome that served the greater plan?
I started to push the energy through the barrier. My heart pounded in my chest, pulse throbbing viscerally in my neck. My body shook.
“Pay attention.” Gnarled hands grabbed my face. The energy burning deep within my chest ebbed. Veldani was glaring at me. She seemed to realize something unspoken, and her grip on my face softened until it was almost gentle. “I don’t fault them, you know. Those of us who fall to hubris. It’s natural to explore your potential here. That’s the purpose the Sanctum has served for hundreds of years. It’s a natural part of children discovering who they are, how much they can do.”
My chest burned and my vision swam.
“Discovering your limit is important. But more essential than that is realizing we have them for a reason. There are some things we simply can’t do. You have an old soul, Cairn. Ancient, even, the oldest I’ve seen. It nearly crumbled within you, and it’s barely holding now.”
Veldani couldn’t possibly know what I was on the verge of doing. She was pushing her agenda, as it wouldn’t serve her or the rest of the infernals to lose me. But it didn’t change the fact that she was right. There had to be limits. Willfully trading Maya’s life for another chance was something I simply wouldn’t—no, couldn’t—do.
I let the magic go.
“If the return route is barred, what is the fastest way back to the heart?” Maya asked. Her voice was a calming salve on the raging of my mind.
“The correct question, is ‘what is the safest route.’ And the answer is simple. There isn’t one.” Veldani stated plainly, looking between us. “It’s been weeks. They’ve likely discovered the issue on the other side and every parent, council member, and infernal with an inkling of magic is working to resolve it.”
I shook my head. Veldani, like so many others, was underestimating Thoth. “You don’t know what we’re up against.”
“We can’t hide.” Maya stood up, her fists clenched at her side. “Not while what’s happening is happening because of us.”
“That’s foolishness talking, child,” Veldani said. “His life is more valuable than any life that might be lost in this conflict.”
“It could take months to get the barrier down. What about the infernals that are about to age out of the Sanctum?” Maya challenged. “They will be stuck. Their life, their future contributions to the Enclave, all but wasted.”
Isn’t that the same fate you’ve chosen for yourself? I clamped down on the thought before I could voice it.
“Is my existence, my life, a waste because I live here?” Veldani raised an eyebrow.
“No, but—”
“But nothing. They would be able to research, learn, push farther into the sanctum.”
“And their families?” Maya asked. She seemed to wither at her own question.
Veldani remained quiet as well. “They would be able to meet them at the halfway point. It would be a great tragedy, yes. But if the boy dies, our chances of accessing the sanctum are practically nil.”
“What about Bacchus?” I asked. “I know he’s not as far along, but you’re talking like it’s not even a possibility.”
Extending a hand, Veldani called forth the flame. “Ignis,” She touched it to a single corner of the nightstand and held it there. I shifted away, but noticed that the dark-stained wood of the nightstand did not ignite. “Control.” The flame formed a tiny spark that moved slowly in a small pattern, lightning the stain and leaving the underlying wood untouched.
“And the third stage?” I breathed. I’d been curious to know what it was, ever since Maya explained it to me.
Veldani reached her hand out. “Absolution.”
