XIX. Full Circle

The escort had led Aichlan to a large salon with no explanation other than “The King wishes to address you”. The sun was setting, leaving a faint blue-grey glow as its fading embers attempted to pierce the overcast sky. As the minutes ticked by, Aichlan had abandoned his anxious pacing and resigned himself to slump on the sofa and watch the clock's pendulum swing. As he considered leaving for the nth time, the door swung open and several servants scurried into the room to light the lamps. Two more entered at a more leisurely pace carrying goblets and a pitcher of wine, followed closely by Laelianus in full ceremonial garb.

Aichlan smirked to himself as he pulled himself to his feet and offered a blatantly sarcastic bow. Laelianus waved disinterestedly as if such displays had become an annoyance. The smug expression he barely contained told a very different story however. Having finished lighting the lamps, the servants took their kings cloak and he took a seat in the armchair across from Aichlan. The wine bearers both poured each man a glass and silently left with the other two servants, leaving them alone with their pitcher.

“King Eluvuetie, you always said you’d make it, no matter who you had to fuck. Or kill.” Aichlan took a seat and picked up his goblet. “Only question is whether it was the former or latter that did the old man in.”

“Clever as always.” Laelianus raised his glass with a bemused smirk. “However this is still my kingdom and I’ll not tolerate slander or such blatant disrespect of the crown.”

Aichlan raised his hands and chuckled. “A thousand pardons Your Grace.”

Laelianus brushed him off and took a sip of wine. “If I recall, it was you who fucked his way out of power, now wasn’t it Lord Aichlan?”

Aichlan nearly choked and set the glass down on the table. “Do you remember your time in The Order?”

Laelianus frowned. “I recall being at constant odds with you. The son of the Legendary General Garrick.”

Aichlan scoffed. “In no way due to any action on my part. You simply couldn’t stand being the second fiddle to anyone in the popularity contest.”

Laelianus smirked and took a sip of wine. “You were such a smug little bastard.”

“Smug?” Aichlan laughed. “I didn’t care. I was too concerned with my lessons to avoid extra duty! You just expected special treatment for being some Duke’s son or whatever the hell your title was. Seems like you had the last word on the account now.”

“So it seems.” Laelianus took a drink of his wine as he attempted to discern whether Aichlan’s previous comment was sincere or not. “Why have you come here?”

Aichlan gulped down the wine and hastily returned the goblet to the table. “You know bloody well why I’m here.”

Laelianus nodded absently as he played with his rings. “The Priestess?”

“Taken, but alive.”

Laelianus raised an eyebrow. “You are certain?”

“I have it on good authority.” Aichlan stated somberly. “But for how much longer…”

“So there was truth in his words after all…” Laelianus muttered to himself.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” Laelianus said with a dismissive gesture. “Tell me; are you aware of the situation in Catharone?”

“I’ve heard their temple was ransacked, aside from that I’ve heard nothing from Briternica since this madness began. Have you news?”

Laelianus waved his hand. “Politics as usual, pay no heed. We shall fight Aichlan, for what he has done this lunatic must be stopped.”

Aichlan was curious as to what he meant by ‘politics’ but was uninterested in the eternal bickering of The Order’s top echelon. The power struggle of the cardinals would do him little service out on the front lines.

“Hmmm. I’m not so certain it is so simple anymore.”

“Have you lost your resolve?” Laelianus teased.

“The man is…powerful. I can fight steel with steel, and these creatures of the Dusk pose only a moderate threat, but magic…I am not certain he can be defeated in single combat.”

“Have you no mages of your own?”

Aichlan paused, choosing his words carefully. “I have one, but she is not strong enough to challenge him. Even if she were, I’d be loath to use her; she’s the King’s cousin.”

“I see. Well, unfortunately old king Dorso dismissed all of his mage staff some time ago in his twilight year’s madness. There’s been talk of a few Asketillian urchins causing mischief, but I doubt they’d be of any use in this campaign.” Laelianus leaned back and crossed his leg over his knee. “Duvachellé has always had some of the best mage killers on the continent, but we’ve not faced a true magical force in many decades.”

Aichlan shrugged and gently swirled his wine. “It is better than nothing I suppose; all that remains is mobilization and resupply-”

“Not so fast Aichlan.” Laelianus chuckled as he raised his glass to his lips. “We’ve much minutiae to work out with the nobility that hold the bulk of my army.”

Aichlan snorted in disgust and drained the last of his wine. “Can’t you simply issue an edict or something to that effect?”

Laelianus laughed to himself and shook his head. “There is also the issue of planning and intelligence gathering. I will not send my forces blindly to go wandering about the countryside in vain. What of this Osric fellow’s army? What kind of troops does he have? How many?”

“None, he killed most of his army in Rhode, and desertion was quite common before that battle. He either travels solely with the creatures or uses them as a distraction.”

Laelianus motioned for Aichlan to refill his glass. “Clever, those creatures are undoubtedly completely feral, and if I had such an incompetent military force I can’t say I’d be overly concerned with keeping them alive either.”

Aichlan obliged in refilling his glass, shaking his head in amusement. “Then it is fortunate I never served under you, I’d likely not have made it this far.”

“That would be assuming you were incompetent, and if such were the case you wouldn’t have been my rival.”

Aichlan smiled to himself and raised his glass in a silent toast. As far as he knew there was no rivalry, just an entitled little lord who did not like to share the spotlight.

“You have quite a lot of intel regarding this situation, I am curious as to your sources.”

Aichlan hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should lie or tell the truth. The last thing he wanted or needed was for Séverin and Maleah to be taken into custody or killed for their brother’s transgressions. However, lying would likely be more of a hassle than it was worth.

“Osric has two siblings, they… left their brother some time ago and joined my army in Rhode.”

“I see. That’s rather useful, the nobility of this kingdom are always more generous when they feel they have an advantage of some sort over their enemy.”

“Should it matter? Even if we didn’t we’d still fight!”

Laelianus smiled and slowly shook his head. “And who do you think it was who abandoned the western half of my kingdom? Certainly you don’t believe that to be my doing alone.”

Laelianus stood and within a few moments, the doors opened. Two servants entered and fastened the king’s mantle. Aichlan hastily stood as well, nearly fumbling his drink, his head was reeling from the revelation that the king seemingly held such little power, as well as the alcohol. With his confusion came dread that once again politics would hamper progress in ridding the world of this evil.

“I’ve not yet had time to be briefed on my schedule so I cannot say for certain when we will have our meeting, but I shall send someone to inform you within the hour.”

Aichlan bowed. “Thank you Your Highness.”

“Hmm. Till then, treat yourself to a warm meal and bath. The comforts of civilization should do you well.”

* * *

Algaë was silent and still in the autumn cold, as Alden leaned on the balustrades of the balcony overlooking the courtyard. In his earpiece, he heard the comm chatter of his men as they patrolled the perimeter, as bored as he was. The night was clear yet chilly, Virides Oculi was high in the sky, and a sliver of Aurum hung low on the horizon. Most of the chatter was his men lamenting the loss of their rifles; the time in The Dusk realm had rendered the gunpowder inert. The rail gun and plasma rifles were also inoperable; their power sources having been damaged in the war or were incompatible with their single solar generator. For all of them, this new Silex was alien and hardly worth fighting for, but they were bound to the demons' will for past transgressions.

Alden pulled his phone from his pocket; the lock screen displayed a photo of himself holding an attractive, smiling blonde woman in his arms. He lingered on this photo for several moments before unlocking the device. Where the signal strength showed a circle with a bar through it. He held the phone to the sky, but there was no change. He sighed, not entirely surprised, even if the satellites were still in orbit there was no one to operate the stations, and any servers would have gone down ages ago.

He opened an app and played a puzzle game, where the objective was to match shapes ad infinitum. He swore as he was met with a game over screen and a prompt to either wait one hour or purchase a continue greeted him. He looked wistfully to the green orb that held prominence in the night sky; he could not recall ever being able to see the stars or not having the moon lit up by lights with streams of traffic traveling between it and Silex.

His phone suddenly began to vibrate in his hand as several notification alarms went off. He looked down at it in surprise, the circle had turned to a single bar and the 10G logo showed it was attempting to communicate. The notifications bar filled with email notifications, text messages, missed calls and voicemails. He trembled in disbelief as he looked at the display and blue, flashing LED in the corner. The screen timed-out and he scrambled to unlock it. The missed calls were mostly from his former staff and advisors, but one string was heartbreakingly familiar. He opened his voicemail box and hesitantly routed the call to his earpiece. The robotic voice of the automated messaging system began to speak.

“You have thirty-seven skipped messages. First skipped—” Alden quickly entered the area and country code for the number he wanted. “Message received at seventeen twenty-nine, thirteenth of Frostmoon, thirty-four eighteen.”

There was a loud tone followed by a moment of silence, Alden held his breath as his heart raced, his palms sweated profusely. After what felt to him as an eternity, a woman’s voice abruptly broke the silence. He felt his limbs liquefy at the familiar sound of her east Agradyan accent, and his heart broke at the stress her words carried. He was instantly transported back to that day, though he could not recall what he was doing or where he was in Frostmoon so long ago.

“…They grounded the shuttles, between orbital bombardments and getting shot down in transit, they aren’t willing to make any more trips planet side.” The woman sighed and there was the sound of shuffling papers on the other end. “By Lihn Alden…. This war will be the end of us won’t it?”

The woman’s voice cracked followed by a sniffle as the stress had finally broken her. He knew well what she spoke of, and recalled where he was and what he had done. The orbital bombardments were his doing, satellites that fired fifteen-meter long steel rods at high velocity to the surface, as well as a massive beam weapon that created the Eurithanian rift. This was the day after Agrardya had been turned to a wasteland, when all of Silex briefly united to defile her before setting upon each other’s throats once more.

“I’m at my office; I don’t know what’s happening anymore, the whole moon is under embargo by some faction or another. I…I’m not even sure if you’re still alive, but if you are…” There was a long pause; the distant sound of explosions and sirens sounded in the background. “Just, I want us to be together when…. when it ends. I love you Alden.”

There was a loud beep and the automated voice asked if he wanted to save, replay, or delete the message. He saved it and began to play the others, but after several moments, the automated voice informed him that there was no connection. He looked to his phone in anger to see that the circle with a bar had once again replaced his signal strength.

He turned to the sky and gazed mournfully at the moon. He wondered if Virides Oculi was spared the same fate as Silex, not that it would matter, she would have died regardless long ago. He opened his mailbox; most of the mail was from the Agrardyan Department of Defense and other Generals. Next, he opened the Friendly Forces Tracker application, which utilized both radio and satellite telemetry to locate friendly structures, vehicles and soldiers. The standard “No Satellite Connection to Generate Topography” message flashed in red, he dismissed it and set the app to scan. After several moments, the blue dots representing his men appeared on a blank background as well as a message that the app was unable to generate terrain.

He looked to his watch and back to the sky, whatever the signal came from was not a GPS or communication satellite or else he would have been able to connect with the FFT, it generated its own signals and would have caught something even if it had a short dwell time. His phone was DoD issue, and Agrardya damn near owned Virides Oculi at one point. Was it possible that some infrastructure could remain? If so, why would it randomly cut on and disappear as it had? As far as food and water, it was a self-sufficient ecosystem, but could there still be people there?

All went black in an instant, silent save the sound of the gentle falling rain upon pavement. The air was cool, but artificially so, as was its taste and scent. Both of which were oddly familiar and comforting. Alden exhaled, resigning himself to the fact that he had returned to more of the beasts torture and trickery. Alden opened his eyes, ready to look into the face of his tormenter and make him blink. However, he was unprepared for the sight that greeted him.

“The next shuttle from Silex arrives in about an hour. What will you do Mister Nelson?” The last word was spoken ironically, with a smile at the unnecessary formality.

Alden heard the words, familiar and sweet, a woman’s voice. The room was white, lit by artificial lighting fixed in the ceiling. The floor was tile, an examination bed was in the corner of the room, the paper was crisp and the leather appeared polished under the light. A potted plant was in the opposite corner behind a polished steel and glass desk. The adjacent wall was a wall of windows, the shrubbery outside gave the illusion of a ground floor, but Alden knew differently. From the original pieces of god awful modern art hung on the wall, avant-garde sculptures that only she could appreciate, to the digital photo slideshow on the desk and holographic screensaver displaying the antics of a children’s cartoon protagonist.

“You can’t stay on virides oculi forever. You do remember saying that, don’t you?”

The woman was blonde and though he couldn’t see her face as clearly as he wanted to, he knew she was gorgeous. Her eyes were green and sharp, and Alden closed his own, digging deep for the memories. The gently lilt of her east Agrardyan accent was like the sweetest song. Alden opened his eyes and was both shocked and relieved to see she was still there, devouring him with her gentle gaze. Her lab coat was clean and crisp; she leaned forward, resting her head on her hands. Alden stepped forward, the door sliding closed behind him. The woman teased her hair, her facial features becoming more recognizable. She adjusted her glasses, small rectangles of glass on wire arms. Alden looked out the windows, the moon Aurum was setting, and Silex held prominence in the sky. It was raining, likely early morning, this was…

“Alden?” She asked with the slightest hint of concern and annoyance. “Are you just going to stand in my doorway looking stupid the whole time or what?”

“Laura…”

A sound behind him snatched him from his thoughts. He placed his hand in his coat and whipped around, drawing and aiming his pistol at the figure in the shadows. The office was gone, he was back on Silex, and the woman had been returned to dust some two millennia past. He relaxed and lowered the non-functioning weapon as Morana stepped forward, trailing heavy tendrils of black smoke. Her eyes were stoic and expression placid, yet she still conveyed the sense of terror that hung around her. While he dared not dwell on it too much, he knew the witch had been digging around in his memories, she had forced him to relive that day…

“Your eyes are red.”

Alden turned his back to her and wiped his eyes, unaware that he had been crying.

“I can look for her if you’d like, on the other side.” Morana’s words held an uncharacteristic sincerity.

“We both know she isn’t there.”

Morana laughed and pointed to the green sphere in the sky. “And you think she’s there?”

“Of course not! Just drop it okay?”

“Fine, but take care not to let emotion cloud your judgments, or become a distraction. Your prison eagerly awaits your return.”

“Yours…” Alden spun around, but Morana had vanished. “As well…”