Furious Scribe
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36. Basil - Off Center
🕑 Added 2025-08-31 01:38:50 +0000 UTC
Chapter 36
Off Center
There was a tang in the back of my throat. Not the metallic strangeness of blood I had experienced once as a child, but a stale heaviness that my body didn’t want to swallow. I don’t belong here anymore. It was an uncomfortable realization to make as I stood guard, my eyes tracing over the lines of my past life. The Central Precinct had been a second home to me, housing my youth within its sturdy walls. I had run letters here, penned missives, cataloged personages captured and released, and even been entrusted with the cards of executed criminals as my responsibilities grew with my years.
I knew every watchman present, but one and all, they acted like my Soul elevation had granted me Stealth, none of them so much as lifting a hand in a greeting. Instead, they hurried about their tasks or whispered among themselves, staring up at the vault doorway that extended well past my head. Perhaps they believed any attempt made at conversation would go just as poorly as the one they had witnessed between my father and I.
The tang deepened and my teeth slid against each other. I thought I had grown strong, or numb at the least, but seeing my father’s disappointment still burdened me, his wants weighing on my shoulders. I had finally made a stand about my future, with more evidence than I’d ever hoped to be able to present to him: I was a lieutenant in the King’s Army, now Queen’s, during an active war, and in the course of conflict with an enemy leader no less, I had elevated to a rank only a handful in Treledyne ever achieved. And yet, despite all of that, my father believed the place I could best be put to use was manning my old desk?
It was maddening beyond reason.
“Alfonso,” I barked, and a watchman passing by came to a shuddering halt.
He turned cautious eyes on me, his words coming out in a jumbled mess. “Um, yes, my, uh, Lord?”
Lord? The man had never called me ‘lord’ in my life. During my first years of employment he had teased me for mumbling, in fact, and never filed his reports as promptly as I had requested of him.
“Has there been word of my mother and brother Randel?” I said – I could find out the why behind Alfonso’s odd behavior later, or never for all it mattered. “Last I saw of them, she was gravely injured.” For so long, Esmi had been the only goal that I had allowed myself. Such singularity of vision had been needed for our survival – I still believed that. However, now that I was back in my old environs, information at my fingertips, I found the idea of not asking after the rest of my family unthinkable.
Alfonso stood steelrod-straight, like he was giving a report to my father. “Gale is with a force commanded by Gerard outside the walls. He’s been bringing us regular reports from griffonback as recently as yesterday morn. It’ll take more than a war to put down Young Master Hintal,” he added with a nervous laugh.
Ah, Gale, the watch's darling even though he had never done a lick of work among their ranks. “I know,” I grated. “I saw the pair leave together after the King’s apotheosis, which is why I asked about my other brother and mother.” I still couldn’t believe she had harmed herself so to save me – me, not Randel or Gale. And now that I was allowing her back into my thoughts, the memory of that rescue felt just as heavy as my father’s wants. I wasn’t entirely sure what I would say to her if we spoke again, but Fate permitting, I wanted the opportunity.
“Yes, right then.” Alfonso sounded like a man who desperately wished this responsibility had fallen to someone else, and I fought not to grab him and shake the information out. “Haven’t seen them myself, but I heard from Sergeant Cas that Gale has been searching for high-ranked survivors as he can. He’s found a few hold-outs and those nearer the walls he’s been taking up and over instead of bringing here. Might be they’re among those.”
A quick look around the room showed me that the short-haired woman was nowhere in sight. “Do you know where Cas is?”
“Died,” he said, which snapped my attention back to him, and he flinched. “Two days ago now. Undead bastards made a great push to get at us, more bodies than I ever seen, all through the night. When morning came, every window was broken and reboarded and just as many watchmen were missing, Cas among them.”
I gave that news the moment of silence it deserved. She had been a good woman and an even better watchman, never treating me differently for being the captain’s son. If she had been here, she would have wished me well, I was sure.
“Thank you for informing me,” I told him. “Please return to whatever duties you had before I interrupted.”
His gaze flicked away from mine, another strange reaction. Perhaps his recent trials had made him flighty. “Might be your father knows more,” he said before dashing off.
Alfonso was trying to give me false comfort, which I had no use for. They might love Gale, but everyone in the watch knew he was a terrible braggart. If Cass had died two days back and Gale had been here the one prior, he would have crowed about finding my family then or before if he had managed it.
I felt a hand on my arm and turned to see that it was Esmi. “I’m sorry,” she said. The warmth of her words sunk into me, just as the heat of her touch did. She was like a hearthfire I wished I could curl up beside and never wake.
But sleep would not find me now. Not with this rekindled worry that roiled in my gut, warring with the leftover frustration at my father, and yet gratitude that I had seen him at least whole and alive. “I…” I hesitated, stopping myself from saying some meaningless platitude about war. “I appreciate your kindness. I will just have to count on Randel’s ingenuity.” My layabout, artsy brother was no duelist or skilled warrior, but neither was he a hopeless fool. Healing my mother and hiding should be within his capabilities. Twins see it so.
I felt Esmi’s hand tremble and went to assure her. “He’s more resourceful than he appears upon first meeting. One time, despite my father expending watch resources, it took us more than a week to find Randel when he went searching for inspiration among some of Treledyne's least reputable locales.”
This wasn’t false hope like Alfonso had offered, at least not entirely, and yet I could feel the words were wrong as I watched them slide off of Esmi. What would make her shiver? Not usual fear or worry, I knew, having watched her face down the enemy forces with barely any hesitation. This was Esmi Fireheart reborn. What could make her afraid?
“Twins blind me, I’m the fool,” I said when the obvious answer came to me. “You feel naked, don’t you?”
She sighed, leaning into me. “Very much so.”
“You are welcome to them, of course,” I told her, pulling cards from my pockets, as by now my wristholder was well past overstuffed. Among Felstrife’s two Mind Homes there were a number of Death-only cards, and I handed them all over, including the Legendary Emerus. Entirely unlike herself, Esmi didn’t even consider the deck possibilities, slotting them behind her ear as soon as I passed them to her.
“That,” – she said, when she had entered the last card; a few shy from a complete twenty, but close – “is considerably better.”
Even when I had been Felstrife’s prisoner and unable to access my deck, it had still sat within me. To be without that familiar fullness and vulnerable to the barest nick of a blade? It was no wonder she had shuddered.
“You could have asked,” I chided her. “You should have. Truthfully, I can’t believe you didn’t.”
From the twitch of her eyebrow, I could tell that she knew what I meant, just like I had understood her unspoken discomfort, overlong it may have taken me to catch.
“It was my boldness that led to my death,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I thought it prudent to find more… balance.”
The truth of her words caught in my chest, burrowing deep. “I understand the sentiment all too well,” I confided to her. “I barely know who I am anymore, let alone possess any semblance of balance. But even so, I would not wish to lose the fiery woman I love.”
“Are you two always like this?” Afi asked. She stood on the other side of Esmi and hadn’t said a word as far as I had heard since the Queen and Hull had left.
“Only when I’m newly raised from the dead,” Esmi said, turning her way. “Then he goes all mush on me for some peculiar reason.”
“Don’t they all,” Afi said, and I could hear the eye roll in her voice.
Esmi looked back at me with an impish grin. “See? Plenty of fire still to go around.”
“I’m gladdened to hear it,” I replied. She was recovering so swiftly it seemed, while the cold mask I had worn with Felstrife felt like it had frozen into my bones, keeping my words and face joyless. “After our duty to the Queen has passed, I can ask among those I know here if there are any spare Fire cards about. We also must decide how and when to tell the Queen about our unexpected meeting with the late King.”
“If you manage that, I’ll love you even more. As to the second…” Esmi looked back at Afi. “From what you said in the Mind Home, it sounds like you’ve been answering directly to the Queen. Do you have a sense of how she’d react to that news?”
Afi snorted, reminding me of Hull for some reason. “We’ve spoken, yes, multiple times now, but something as personal and outlandish as that? Not a clue.”
“Hmm,” Esmi said. “Then I suppose we’ll just make the best effort to inform her at the first appropriate opportunity.”
I agreed, so didn’t bother to join in when the two of them took to discussing the possibility of an apotheosis. I was curious about the eventuality, but my thoughts veered toward more immediate concerns, such as tests I needed to run on my newly acquired Potential Unleashed ability. This war was not yet over, whether we did as the King wished or the Queen, which meant every weapon I possessed must have the keenest edge.
How frequently could it be used? Once a day like Scrying Eye, or more? If Potential Unleashed had the same restriction, it would be prudent to wait for actual conflicts to experiment, lest I waste one of my strongest plays. As for targeting, could it be cards outside my deck, such as something in my sideboard or even an opponent’s card? The wording, with its mention of Seersight, seemed to imply I could, which was quite promising. I’d only had the opportunity to use the ability once since acquiring it, on Atrea, which, as useful as it had been during our assault, answered none of these questions.
Atrea. If there was an apotheosis, finding Rathamon would surely be easier. If not, I’d have to track the man down. Could I justify doing that before confirming my family's well-being? The answer arrived faster than expected: my family had each other to act as protection. Atrea only had Hull’s Demon Marauder, and I doubted there was much the two Souls could do for one another.
I had promised myself to see Esmi raised, but I had also promised Atrea to see her elevated, and I would not permit that pledge to go unfulfilled.
My attention roved here and there like my thoughts while I did my best to act as an appropriate guard – a task I did not wish to fail my Hintal forebearers at. Even so, I was watching for threats more than details, and so it took me two passes to realize who was staring back at me from the precinct's second floor inner balcony, his features pinched.
“Warrick is here?” I hadn’t even realized I had asked the question aloud until I heard my voice in my ears.
“That he is,” Afi said, interrupting her conversation with Esmi to answer. “He was hiding away in Biddlwyn, and browbeat me into bringing him here, even though he nearly died a half dozen times on the journey.” She didn’t sound happy about any of it.
“His parents?” I asked. He had since turned away to talk with Jakob, who had retired last year. The elderly watchman must have donned his uniform again when war came.
“Safe in their mansion last I checked. Now that I know how to move people, I’ll get them out of the city as soon as we’re finished here.”
I nodded absently. Warrick and I had definitely shared a look, of that there could be no doubt. What I would do if we came face-to-face, on the other hand… I was even less certain about what I would say to him than my mother.
A commotion at the front dropped my gaze, and I saw none other than Edaine approaching. Her face was clear of blood and grime, likely due to the helmet she carried under arm, but her Korikana armor told a grislier tale of where she’d been, gore spattered in the dark ichor of the undead. She was flanked by two of the Spirits her Mythic Relic set could produce, walking in lockstep. As I watched, I saw a third split off from her, like a shadow slipping free of its bindings. At first the new summon was ghostly grey, but it gained heft in mere moments, its metal steps joining the others on the floor tiles.
“Lieutenants,” Edaine said, stopping before us, red shining in her eyes. It seemed Esmi and I weren’t the only newly minted Epics, which I found reassuring; our one time instructor was not just leading that charge in war but also elevation. “Praise the Twins that you are still alive,” were the next words out of her mouth, her no-nonsense gaze locking on me and then Esmi. “From the reports I was given, I thought you two were lost to us, or near enough.”
“We nearly were,” Esmi confirmed. “But some sons and daughters of Treledyne are quite brave,” she added, looping her arms through mine and Afi’s.
“How goes the war effort?” I asked.
Edaine didn’t so much as hesitate. “Poorly.”
After our successes in the palace, it had been tempting to think that the rest of the city might be faring similarly, but her one word reply put that hope in the grave.
“Treledyne is already lost,” she continued, never one to mince words. “We’re just making them bleed to take the small patches that are left. But…” – she looked past us to the vault we guarded – “it seems you may have delivered our salvation.”
“Twins willing,” Esmi said, and Afi echoed her.
I was contemplating if it was proper to tell Edaine about Hestorus before the Queen when Edaine bowed her head, putting her hand to heart. That was all the signal we three required to know that our new ruler was back. We did a quick about-face and matched the solute.
Eyes angled down, I watched the Queen’s burnt-edged skirt pass me by. The room had gone quiet but for the scrape of chairs, as those who had been sitting quickly got to their feet. When I looked up, I saw the Queen was holding a sphere made of small connected links, similar to chainmail, above her head for all to view. I didn’t remember seeing such an artifact during either of my forays into the vault, but perhaps it had been locked away in some secret compartment – she had been in the vault for quite some time, after all.
“The blessing of the Twelve upon you all,” she said, addressing everyone gathered, including my father who had returned and Warrick leaning against the railing again. “With your efforts and those who selflessly gave their lives in defense of their homeland, we have lasted long enough to reach the light. With this,” she said, lifting the strange sphere higher, “the nightmare comes to an end. With this, we will purge our city streets, homes, and manses, and reclaim the ashes.”
Comments
Sharrif
Somewhat ominous. Wasn’t this what Hull saw in the Legendary part of the vault? Or am I misremembering?
