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IGS #4, Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2025-07-02 14:12:52 +0000 UTCLeonis
A dull ache awoke Leonis from his stupor. For a moment he just lay beneath the tousled sheets, blinking up at the cracked stone ceiling. His body was sore. His back, his legs, his left shoulder. For all his sleep he still felt worn out.
Perhaps he’d overdone the exercise yesterday.
Movement by his side.
Merideva awakening, her long brown hair free of its braids and spread out across the threadbare pillow. She blinked her long-lashed eyes, focused on his face, and smiled. “Hey, you.”
Leonis couldn’t help but smile back. By the gods she was beautiful. A warrior born, a Dread Blaze. She slid her hand over his chest, curling her fingers in his hair, and then bit her lower lip and pushed her knee over his leg.
For a moment he was tempted.
His hand stole down of its own accord over her muscled thigh. In the depths of her eyes he saw a laughing challenge, a provocative dare. “Was last night too much for you? Or is there a drop left in the bucket?”
Leonis snorted and with immense effort pulled himself back from the brink. He sat up and turned away from her. It felt like tearing himself free of waist-deep mud. His every instinct urged him to stay, to lean in and kiss those lips, to pull her in close.
But that was the weakness talking.
That was the indolence that had undone him so many times.
Merideva sat up behind and ran a hand over his broad back. “What’s so urgent you can’t spare a moment? Or an hour? There’s no enemy at the gates.”
“The enemy’s always at the gates.” He gathered his hair and began tying it back into a knot.
“Sure they are.” Merideva rose to her knees and kissed his shoulder. “You know, if it’s training you crave, we could make this a more rigorous workout.” She kissed the side of his neck. “I’m sure I could make you sweat.”
Leonis grunted and stood. Where was his robe? There, tossed on the floor. “Tempting.”
Merideva lay back down, head propped on one hand, and watched him dress. “Then why don’t you look tempted?”
He cinched his sash around his waist. “Because there’s more to training than just tempering the flesh.”
Merideva grinned. “Is that what you call what we did last night?”
Leonis stepped over to his basin, cupped water in his hands, and splashed it over his face. He scrubbed at his beard, rubbed his eyes till he saw stars, then ran his wet hands over his drawn back hair. There. Better. “You’re welcome to stay. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“How sweet. You think I’ll just lie here all day, pining for your big muscled body?”
Leonis smirked. She was making no attempt to hide herself under the sheet, and for a moment temptation arose within him again. A desire to dive into the bed, to sweep her into his arms, to relax, for just a moment, and laugh and drown his cares in her kisses, her embrace, her mocking smile.
As if sensing his hesitation, Merideva pulled back the sheet just a fraction, revealing more of herself.
Leonis snorted and shook his head. “Sorry. Got to go.”
“Fine.” She dropped the playful pout and sat up to gather her own hair with both hands. “Oh. Is it because you’re seeing Scorio off today? I heard his team’s leaving for the Unfathom.”
Leonis stared at her. “Why would I care?”
She paused, hair half-twisted into a rope. “Because… weren’t you friends? I heard something about you and Lianshi being…?”
“My past self might have been his friend. But that was to my detriment.”
“Oh.” She studied him. “There’s clearly more to this story than I’ve been told. Sorry.”
“It’s nothing. I don’t care.” Leonis moved to the doorway and stepped into his sandals. “I respect the man. But everyone that gets pulled into his orbit gets ruined by his ambition.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Merideva pause again. “Wait. Scorio? Are we talking about the same person? The man who revealed Bravurn to be a traitor? And helped kill the Blood Ox?”
Leonis turned to grin at her. “Oh yeah. The very same. It all sounds really impressive until you look at the price everyone around him pays. Innocent people getting ground up for his glory.”
Merideva watched him as she slowly got dressed. “You mean in the war? The one we all fought to protect the upper bands of Hell?”
“In all things. Look, it doesn’t matter. Go ahead and hero worship him if you want. Just don’t get too close. You’ll get pulled under like everyone else.”
Merideva frowned as she tied off her own sash. “First, I don’t hero worship him. And even if I did, I think he’s earned our gratitude. His list of accomplishments is outrageous.”
Leonis tongued the inside of his cheek as he nodded. Of course. Of course she’d feel that way. Because she didn’t know any better. Almost he asked why she’d bedded him if she was so in love with Scorio, but that would be petty and immature. So he just inclined his head. “You’re entitled to your opinion. You fought with him under Plassus, right?”
“Yes.” Her words had grown pointed, her gaze hard. “I did.”
“For, what? A month? My past incarnation was reborn with him in the Gauntlet. Helped bring him out of the ruins and redeem him from being a Red Lister. I sacrificed my own advancement for him, and then was murdered along with Lianshi while he was off helping Kraken take the Fiery Shoals.”
Merideva gave a sharp shake of her head. “He was cleared of that. Praximar was at fault.”
“Who knows.” Leonis stepped close to loom over her. “I was already dead by that point. But my point is I know the man better than you do, and that everyone who fights alongside him gets killed or driven mad. Those traveling with him to the Unfathom are doomed.”
Merideva met his gaze with unabashed directness. “You’re jealous of him.”
“Ha!” Leonis turned away, grinning widely. “Jealous.” He looked back. “The man ruined my education at the Academy. He poisoned my relationship with Lianshi. And that’s after I sacrificed everything to help him advance. You call that jealousy? No.” He narrowed his eyes, feeling his anger cool, his certainty return. “I call that hard earned wisdom.”
Merideva shook her head in mock wonder. “Wow. Who even are you? Where’s the big hearted man I decided to tumble last night?”
“That was my mistake.” He pushed open his door and stared out into the bleak morning sunlight. His pulse was pounding in his ears. “I let my guard down. It won’t happen again.”
“Oh, I don’t care. Because this won’t be happening again, either.”
“Sure. Whatever. See you around.” And he stepped outside. Dull anger thrummed in his temples. He strode down the street, not seeing the people going about their business, not seeing the buildings, just glaring fixedly ahead.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
It was his fault. His fault for having a few drinks, for thinking he’d earned a reprieve after the grueling training session he’d put himself through after his bout with Jova.
Despite himself, he saw Merideva again in the soft mana-light of the sole building that functioned as LastRock’s tavern. The way she’d smiled slyly at him as she’d twirled a slender braid around her finger, then obviously looked him up and down. The warmth that had suffused him as he’d moved to her table, the drinks they’d shared as they laughed and swapped stories.
It had felt so damn good.
It had felt… right, somehow. To be at ease and celebrate an evening with a beautiful stranger.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
What had he thought would come of it? Of course she was enamored of Scorio. Everyone was. The hero who’d killed the Blood Ox. Who’d toppled the Fury Spires. Who’d blah blah blah. Sure. There was no denying how impressive it all was, but did anybody care for Naomi, who’d gone mad in his company and murdered Alain? Did anybody ask Scorio’s role in her horrific fall from grace? Did nobody notice how he preferred the company of fiends to Great Souls? That all his accomplishments were in service of his personal quest to find these Herdsmen, and he cared nothing for sealing the Pit?
Leonis all but growled as he stalked through LastRock. His fatigue and soreness was gone. He felt light and lethal and ready to train. Because the only appropriate response to all this was to get stronger. To force the weakness out of his mind, his Heart, his body, his soul. And he’d been doing so well. Had been on track.
Right up till he’d decided to visit the tavern.
Weakness.
He’d not be going there again.
Not while he was still a damned Flame Vault. Part of the thrill of being with Merideva had been that she was a Dread Blaze. His mind wanted to turn away from the truth, but he stopped and stared out above the rooftops and dragged his thoughts to the fact: his interest in her had only doubled when he’d learned her rank. How pathetic could you get? He shook his head and smiled darkly. That was him at his core: still weak, still grasping for approval, still hungry for validation.
Even after all his supposed growth and hard work.
Still smiling, hands on his hips, he lowered his gaze to the stone ground and chuckled. Could he be any more pathetic?
“Leonis?” The voice came from the near distance, half surprised, mostly unsure. A voice so familiar it slid into his heart like a wickedly sharp knife, and immediately his amusement sluiced away into a chasm of regret and despair.
“Hey Lianshi.” He forced himself to look up. She was approaching him slowly, gauging him, gauging his temper. As if he’d start roaring and punching the wall out here in the street. Didn’t she know he was harmless? He forced a smile and linked his hands behind his back. “You headed out today?”
“Yes, actually. Um. I wasn’t sure if I should come find you, if you’d want to hear from me, but…”
“Hey.” His anger faded away to leave nothing behind but tender regret. “Of course I’d want to hear from you. I mean, no matter what happened, or what happens, you’ll always… you know.”
She stopped a good four or five yards away, and crossed one arm over her chest to grip the other elbow. She looked sad and tired and something was clearly wrong, even though she was trying to hide it.
“What happened?” he asked.
“We’re… I’ve decided to head back to Bastion.”
“Bastion?” He frowned at her. “You mean, you and Juniper?” Her expression darkened, and he rushed to clarify. “Sorry, I meant, as in without Scorio?”
“Right. Yes.” She bit her lower lip, stared off into the distance, then looked back at him with a broken smile. “It’s the books we found in the Lost Library. This ancient repository of knowledge Jova accumulated during her past lives. Originally we were just looking for one specific book that had information on the Herdsmen, but the more I browsed the other tomes, the more I realized what an incredible opportunity it was to learn more about our past, about Hell, about… well, everything.”
Despite himself Leonis found himself smiling. “Well, that was it for you.”
“Right?” Lianshi laughed weakly. “But it’s not as if I could travel into the Silver Unfathom with hundreds of ancient books that are all but falling apart, so…”
“So you told Scorio you couldn’t go.”
“Yeah.” Her voice softened. “He didn’t take it well.”
Leonis’ bit back on his immediate instinct to say something cutting, and instead offered a restrained nod.
Lianshi eyed him dubiously, clearly expecting the worst, but then looked away again. “I don’t blame him. He’s lost everybody. Well, everybody that mattered to him. Even though I don’t know him all that well in this life, he clearly felt an attachment through me to my past self, and—well—I made an effort to help him after the Blood Ox, and…”
“You have your own path to walk,” said Leonis firmly. It felt easy to be assuring and understanding. “You’re not the Lianshi from his past. You’re your own self.” In a burst of magnanimity, he even managed, “And you and Juniper need to do what’s best for you.”
Lianshi’s smile was genuine and grateful and pained all at once. “Thanks. I know. It’s just that… anyway.” She gave a sharp shake of her head that was so familiar that it caused a fresh spasm of pain to lance into his heart. “I’m sorry. I know all this isn’t exactly what you like to discuss. But yes. Juniper and I are heading back to Bastion within the next few days with all the books. I want to share what we’ve found with a couple of the librarians—remember Gelegos?”
A vague memory returned, that of a tall and slender man, leonine and bemused, with hair like pale gold. “The House Chimera recruiter?”
“Yes.” Lianshi smiled fondly. “That was technically his job, but he knew more about the Academy library and its contents than even the full time staff. And we—never mind. I just want his opinion on these texts.”
Leonis nodded. “Sure. Well.” He suddenly didn’t know what to say. To see her just standing there before him in the stark morning light, tired and in need of a hug, it just tore at him. To know that he could never just casually hold her close again, feel her cheek on his chest -
Lianshi must have seen something in his expression, because she curled a strand of dark hair behind one ear and stepped back. “So, ah, what are you going to do?”
“Me?” He dragged his thoughts back to the present. “Train, mostly. I want to make Dread Blaze soon. Have to. Jova’s been sparring with me. It’s my best opportunity to advance.”
“Sure.” She peered at him, and he knew that she was seeing far more than he wished to let on. “You’re looking… good.” That wasn’t what she’d been about to say, but her catching herself at the last moment had become a familiar and infuriating habit from their final months together. “But I meant, more, like what are you going to do from here in general? Sign up with a House, or press into the Unfathom, or…?”
Leonis looked off down the street, eyes narrowing against the sunlight. “You know, I’m not sure.” It felt hard to admit, but if there was anybody he could be honest with, it was her. “I… I’ve got a good thing going with Jova. She… I mean, she sees the world in the way I want to. Need to. So perhaps… maybe I’ll ask her. Today.” He glanced back. “I was on my way to train with her. I’ve been avoiding the question, but perhaps it’s time, what with everyone else leaving.”
Lianshi nodded, but her expression, other than being concerned, was mostly inscrutable. But he could almost hear what she wanted to say, the leading questions, the tentative suggestions that he be kinder to himself, that he eat more, that he sleep more, that he train less.
“Well.” She drew herself up and forced a bright smile. “I’m sure you two will accomplish incredible things.”
He couldn’t help but smile darkly. “You mean, don’t let her push me into doing things I don’t want to do, and be a man that I’m not, and all that?”
Her bright smile faltered and became sad, the very smile that had wounded him to the quick whenever he saw it. Not quite pitying, but resigned. The smile she’d only begun to show when she’d finally given up on changing him. “No, that’s not what I mean. You’re going to be whomever you want. I know that. I just—I mean, I…” She took a deep breath and then took the plunge. “I hope what you’re doing right now makes you happy. That’s all.”
Leonis bit back his retort, his anger, and instead forced a slow nod, his lips pursed. For a long moment they simply met each other’s eyes, and though she was the most familiar harbor, his greatest friend, his truest love, he knew, he knew that the gulf between them had never been wider, and would never be crossed.
“Safe travels, Lianshi. I wish you and Juniper all the best.”
“Thank you.” She gave a helpless little shrug, and her eyes teared up. “Safe travels, Leonis. I hope you achieve everything you desire.”
His smile grew pained. “Unlikely. But. You know.”
Lianshi realized only too late her mistake, and took a step back. “Ha, yes, we’ll none of us make Imperator any time soon.”
“Good bye,” he said, ending the conversation more for her sake than his own. Sadness arose within him as he walked away, his whole body attuned to where she stood behind him, his every fiber resonating to her diminishing presence. He’d never see her again. In the very depths of his soul he knew, he absolutely knew that they would never meet again in this life.
And the pain made him glad. The pain made him smile even as the tears filled his eyes.
Good.
It was best this way.
One less distraction from what really mattered.
He crossed the rest of the city without seeing much of anything. Nobody spoke to him. Eventually he left the inhabited part of town behind and reached the shattered arena, forged by Jova a week or so ago from the ruins of a mess of buildings into a clearing in which they could train.
Leonis passed through a huge archway, entering the cool shadows, and stopped just shy of stepping out into the open central space that was littered with Jova’s rocks and boulders. Everything beyond this shadowed corridor was lit by the Telurian sun’s ruddy light, and for once the sight of the training grounds filled Leonis with nothing but despair.
He crossed his arms over his chest, bowed his head, and leaned against the wall. It felt as if a leaden cloak was draped over his shoulders, and a deep fatigue arose within him, overwhelming his Iron-tempered body.
In a moment. In just a moment he’d start warming up. He’d run a few laps, and then begin stretching. But not yet.
He closed his eyes. His insides felt jellied, his stomach tremulous, and he realized he was holding himself tight, as if his torso might fall apart were he to let it go. His throat tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut, but still the tears brimmed and ran down his cheeks.
A tight, coughing sound tore itself free from his throat, and his shoulders shook. Leonis fought the emotions. Squeezed tighter, clenched his will around himself like a fist.
But all it took was summoning Lianshi’s face, her hesitant smile, the way she’d stepped back from him, and then he moaned again, his whole body shivering.
More memories. Summoned from the depths just to torment him. To test him. Lianshi looking up from a thick book, unaware of how the tip of her nose was smudged with ink. That day in the market when he’d surprised her with the golden necklace she’d been secretly admiring for weeks, and how she’d looked up at him, eyes alive with wonder and delight and love as she’d fastened it about her neck. Her soft cries as they made love, and how she’d sometimes be so overcome with emotion, after, that she’d press her face against his neck and weep, and how he’d hold her tight, feeling so protective, so fiercely loving, so determined to shield her from Hell and all its evils.
Leonis dug his chin into his chest and coughed up another sob, then another.
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
All those months spent laughing and drinking, celebrating and strutting about Bastion like a brainless cockerel. Telling the world that he would be great without realizing he was being used as a lure, as bait, that everyone was laughing at his ignorance.
Dameon and Praximar. They’d both used him just to get at Scorio.
With great effort Leonis reined in his emotions and gasped, lifting his head and wiping away the tears.
Yes.
If it hadn’t been for Scorio, then they really would have seen his value, would have taken him seriously. Because they hadn’t been wrong about his potential. They’d just been blinded by their hate of his former friend.
Leonis inhaled raggedly.
But he’d let their praise go to his head. He’d believed himself already arrived when he’d barely set out on his journey. Years wasted. Years when he could have been fighting with all his soul to become strong.
Maybe if he had earned that strength he’d have been enough for Lianshi. He’d not have turned sour and pathetic when Scorio arrived, all glorious and lauded by the luminaries of Hell.
Leonis exhaled sharply and blinked away the last of the tears. It was his own fault. He’d not been the equal to the moment. He’d realized his own weakness too late, and his shock and anger had cost him everything. He’d reacted like a petulant child, and now he had to live with the consequences.
Well.
He was still the Golden King. No matter if there had been missteps, he could still walk the highest path.
He’d make his hundredth and twenty-first reincarnation count.
With effort Leonis squared his shoulders and stepped out into the sunlight. The future was wide open. It was never too late to do better.
To be better.
A shadow slid over the rocks and began to grow in size. Squinting, Leonis looked up to see Jova hove into view, her plinth lowering silently into the center of their training arena.
“Right on time,” he called, forcing his voice to sound bold and confident.
But something was off. It seemed he wasn’t the only one having strange thoughts this morning, for Jova was frowning at him, her black-painted lips pursed, her manner intent.
Leonis waited, hands on his hips. When the plinth alighted on the ground, Jova stepped off and approached.
Was she… did she actually look uncertain about something?
“Leonis.” Her voice was curt as always, but then she stopped, as if unsure about how to continue.
“What happened?” Fear pulsed through him. Was she looking for a way to say goodbye? No. Jova wasn’t afraid of hurting feelings. “Something wrong?”
She reached into her robe and drew out a slender leatherbound journal. Considered it, tapped it against her other palm, than looked up at him from under lowered brows. “I’m… at a crossroads.”
“All right.” He shrugged. “Can I help?”
“I don’t know. Possibly.” She sat on the edge of the plinth, elbows on her knees, and stared at the journal. “I… Scorio leaves LastRock today.”
“Oh.” Leonis felt his stomach sink. “I see. You plan to leave with him.”
Her glance was sharp. “No. At least, I’m not sure. Moira tried to set us up. Called us both into a meeting. I turned down her request without any hesitation.”
Leonis doubted that, but simply crossed his arms over his chest. “All right.”
“But he—Scorio—found this in my library. A library I secreted away under the city.” She tapped her journal against her palm again. “And when I read it, I found…”
Leonis raised an eyebrow. “You found what?”
She sat up straight. “That my previous incarnations had reason to trust Scorio’s warnings. I left a warning to my future self to trust him, and that his paranoid delusions about Hell were accurate.”
Leonis took a moment to absorb this. “Scorio’s only been reincarnated something like five times. And you met him?”
“That’s right. You don’t know.” Her dark gaze became opaque. “I did, yes. Two centuries ago. He came and found me here in LastRock so that I could convey a message to his future self. He trusted me when he trusted nobody else. All of Hell was suspect.”
“The Herdsmen.”
“The Herdsmen,” she agreed. “After he died, that incarnation of mine remained alert to future revelations. The location of a Great Soul ruin in the Unfathom was the last thing she wrote about. The Silverines apparently had sworn a vow to the Good Shepherds to defend it. I set off in search of those ruins, and never returned.”
“And now…? You’re saying you want to… go find this ruin?”
“I don’t know.” Her frown was fierce. “I’ve made it no secret that Scorio and I are… well. Not rivals. But definitely not friends.”
“True enough.” It had been, in fact, one of the initial reasons they’d been able to bond. “Has that changed?”
Her upper lip curled into a sneer. “Hardly. He thinks me a power-mad traitor who’d murder him the second he turned his back. But.” Again she stared down at her journal.
Leonis waited.
“But.” Her words grew clipped. “I… I’ve followed a simple philosophy that has always made the utmost sense: to pursue power single-mindedly so that nobody may control me, and so that I may make the greatest difference in our ineptly run war against the Pit.”
Leonis grunted. “Right. It’s why you and I have gotten along so well of late.”
“Indeed. But. That being said.” She frowned at the journal. “For all my work and talent, I’ve failed to accomplish much of anything. For all my…” She shook her head in disgust. “Vaunted self-sufficiency, I fell like an idiot to Dameon’s charm. It was Scorio that revealed his manipulation, and killed Praximar for his plotting.”
“I know.” Leonis’ tone was dry. “Trust me. I’m well aware of all the wondrous deeds he’s performed. We can skip them.”
Jova’s glance was rich with dark amusement. “Fair. My point being, there’s no denying his success. Some say he’s Whispered, but I think… and my selves clearly believed—that he’s onto something.”
“Luck has played as much a role in his success as anything else.” Leonis fought to keep his tone steady. “He’s clearly Whispered, and willing besides that to sacrifice anyone to achieve his goals.”
“No,” said Jova softly, staring off to one side. “That’s not true. He’s willing to risk his life for his friends.” Her gaze sharpened and she looked up at him. “He tore Manticore apart and upended all of Bastion to avenge you and Lianshi.”
Leonis raised both hands as much to forestall his own angry words as to placate Jova. “What’s your point?”
“Like I said. I’m at a crossroads.” Jova’s tone grew soft again. “When I left Bastion to search out Aezryna and Charoth, to serve the Seamstress and lead the effort against the Blood Ox, I thought I was being smart. But in the end I accomplished nothing. I’m again afforded the opportunity to be smart, and head down to the Emerald Reach to serve the Seamstress directly.”
“But… you think you’ll accomplish nothing again?”
“Yes. As irrational as it sounds.” Jova rubbed at her temples, then abruptly shot to her feet. “Yet wherever Scorio goes he effects change, starts revolutions, and tears away the lies that brought my past selves to their knees. I don’t know how he does it.” She began to pace. “He’s sentimental and unfocused, he cares about others more than is rational, and his stupidity in challenging foes far beyond his ability should be outright suicidal. Yet here he is, alive and well, and about to continue his…” She sought the right word then gave up and turned to glare at Leonis as if it were his fault. “It’s ridiculous. It’s absurd. But even my dead selves argue in his favor.”
Leonis’ thoughts were scrambling. “So you think working with him is your ticket to making a difference.”
“No. I mean, yes. As much as I hate it, I…” She stared at her journal one last time, then through it down upon the plinth. “I don’t know. And this uncertainty is driving me mad.” She pressed the base of her palms into her eyes for a moment, then dropped into a crouch. “I’m no longer confident about anything other than Scorio’s unerring instinct to change all of Hell.”
Leonis studied her and then looked away. She was convincing herself to join forces with Scorio. That much was obvious. Perhaps, even, seeking his permission or encouragement to do so. Which was ridiculous. But then again, who else would give her advice free of that hero-worship that infected everyone else?
He exhaled deeply, expelling the last of his shuddery emotions as he considered. “Lianshi heads for Bastion.”
“So I was told.” Jova’s tone had become lifeless. “Scorio hasn’t taken it well. His depression is what prompted Moira to enlist me as his travel companion.”
“Moira’s no fool.”
“No. She’s not.”
“But though you refused him, you’re now considering it.”
Jova’s eyes flashed. “As if I have a choice on the matter! I told you, he thinks me a murderous idiot. And…” She glared at the ground. “He might be right.”
“Cut out the self-pity.” Leonis met her angry glare with his own implacable gaze. “You’re Jova fucking Spike. Stand up.”
She rose.
“What’s most important in all this? Hmm? You want a central role in the greatest events to come. Correct?”
Jova nodded reluctantly.
“And Scorio has an unerring instinct for being at the center of those events. So it’s simple. Travel with him.”
She studied him. “Just like that.”
He grinned. “Just like that. And now you have a priceless piece of information. Barter it in exchange for coming along.”
She considered him. “And you?”
“I don’t matter.” He pretended to consider, then shook his head. “I’m just a no-account Flame Vault. We’re not talking about me.”
She continued to study him.
“Find Moira. Or better yet, go to Lianshi. Have her intercede on your behalf. She’ll do it. But go quickly, or you’ll miss your opportunity.”
Jova nodded reluctantly, but still didn’t move away. “You’ve changed.”
Leonis narrowed his eyes.
“I never took you seriously before. Even now, these past few weeks of training. I thought you… brittle.” She said the word as if testing it. “But now? You sound like a warrior.”
Leonis fought to keep his expression stern even as his heart expanded.
“Come with us.” Jova seemed to reach a sudden decision. “I know that I can trust you.”
“Come with you?” Leonis sneered. “Travel with Scorio so that I can make him tea and set up his tent?”
“Cut the self-pity,” she said, but it was with a smile. “You’ve told me you want to ascend to your best self. True?”
“True,” he allowed.
“The best way to do so is through combat and adventure. Training?” She gestured around at their arena. “It’ll only take you so far, and that slowly. Come with me. Where we’re going will make you a Dread Blaze or kill you outright.”
Again Leonis fought to hide his excitement. Jova Spike was taking him seriously. Wanted him to come along. He forced a frown, and realized he’d already made up his mind.
“Very well.” He fought to sound reluctant. “Though if anyone asks me to make tea I’ll take off their head with Nezzar.”
Jova’s smile was pure dark malice. “You mean you’ll try to take off their head.”
Leonis matched her grin. “Sure. For now. But yes. I’ll come if it means I gain power more quickly. Make no mistake. That’s my only concern.”
Jova shrugged one shoulder. “As it should be. Come. Let’s go find Lianshi.”
Leonis hesitated. “I… we just said our goodbyes.” Was he messing up? Should he hide any sign of weakness? But the thought of meeting her gaze again was too much. “Go ahead. I’ll wait for you outside Moira’s building. Find me there when you’re ready.”
Jova considered him, expression enigmatic, then nodded. “Sure.” She stepped back onto her plinth, and rose into the air. “I’ll see you there.”
A moment later, she was gone.
Leonis exhaled hugely, swung his arms in a couple of hugs, and then turned to the exit archway.
Well.
It seemed he was bound for the Silver Unfathom.
And in Scorio’s company.
He snorted in amusement, and wondered how Merideva would take the news. She’d probably think him a hypocritical idiot.
No matter.
He let this new development hover in his mind like a glittering star. He considered it, turned it about, tried to decide how he felt, and decided he felt… good.
Yes.
Scorio had been the cause of his downfall before. It was… fitting that he be the source of his opportunity to grow.
And perhaps Scorio for once would be the one forced to sacrifice himself for another’s ascension.
Smiling savagely, Leonis turned and stepped into the shadows.
Comments
Jimmy Howard
You got me mad worried for Leonis in this one already
Terri Harris
Irony is rich with this one.
