37. Cain
37
CAIN
Safani convulsed, and finally fell forward. A dark puddle formed as blood gushed from his chest and shoulder, filling the grooves in the rust-colored dirt around them. Cain stared, thinking how he had killed two people in one night. He had been in alley fights before, injured many, even seriously to the brink of death. But he had never killed anyone by his own hand. It didn’t quite feel real to him, whether from shock or the unnatural quality of this place.
The whispering of the Power generators increased. Now it sounded like a song with no words. The bandages that the 327 Power generators above him were wrapped in unraveled in unison, and they fell to the red ground like snow.
And suddenly, Cain was standing in a field where snow was melting. Something about the scenery was familiar. Before him, thousands of people were in a raging battle. There were even Powered chariots, the kind he had seen in military parades. Blue flames erupted. A woman covered in dark red scales was swinging a sword in each hand. At some distance, a metal giant with four arms and four legs approached.
Far away to the left was a volcano, the sole mountain in view, a white plume of smoke issuing from it. Cain somehow knew what was going on inside there. He blinked and was suddenly inside the volcano where a dragon stood, its many eyes filled with violet light. Arienne was looking up at it. Under a light layer of armor, she wore the clothes he had bought her, which were now rumpled and faded from her long and arduous journey.
The withered corpses that comprised the Circuit of Destiny were looking down at this scene. Just as he was about to approach Arienne, a voice addressed him.
“Good of you to come.”
He turned.
Beneath the 327 withered corpses stood Fienna. Her long braided hair moved slightly in the breeze. It was hard to see through all the blood and cracks on his spectacles. Cain wiped them with his coat sleeve, but he knew very well this was not the real Fienna.
“Where am I?”
“If you’re talking about your body, it’s in the chamber of the Circuit of Destiny underneath the Senate. What you’re looking at, however, is the inside of the volcano in Arland. It’s where the dragon of Arland once lay trapped.”
“‘Once’?”
“It’s free now. The chains…”
There were chain fragments scattered about the dragon.
“ We are inside that dragon,” said Fienna. “The thing that used to be us, that used to be our king.”
Cain asked, “This is happening right now, in Arland?”
Fienna tilted her head. “Now… It will happen, very soon. But everything feels like ‘now’ to us.”
He didn’t understand. “Why do you look like Fienna?”
“Because it’s the most comfortable for you.” The Fienna who wasn’t Fienna reached out and stroked Cain’s hair. Cain wanted to step back, but somehow, he couldn’t. Her fingers lightly combed through his hair.
“You hardly ask anything. When you’ve come all the way here, looking for answers.”
“I hate things like this,” said Cain.
“What things? Scenes from your homeland?”
His surroundings changed once more. Fienna now stood in the middle of the battlefield from before, the woman in dark red scales fighting right in front of them. Even though the battle seemed to be between a ragtag Arlander army and an Imperial legion in all their battle regalia, the legion seemed to be losing. But the approaching gigatherion had the heavy air of inevitability.
“This is going to happen in the future as well?” Cain asked.
Fienna nodded. “Yes, very soon.”
Cain felt a twitch inside, of the muscle that had been atrophied for so long that he had forgotten that it existed. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he cared for his homeland. These were, however, faraway affairs. This was a battle being fought by Loran and Arienne. Cain gazed at Fienna’s face, a face he knew he would never see again after this, and tried hard to say the thing he needed to say.
“Arland may be my homeland, but it has nothing to do with me now. I want to leave here.”
Fienna’s eyes turned a shade darker.
“It’s not so simple. There’s still one more thing you need to do for us.”
“What’s that?”
Fienna turned toward the battle scene and pointed to where the gigatherion, as large as a castle, was coming from.
“That is gigatherion Clarios, Powered by the Class Two generator Hadiya. Not something Arland’s militia can do anything about. Loran’s fortress will likely fall, and then Kingsworth would be devastated.”
Cain bit his lower lip. “Is there a way to stop it?”
“Not by you. But King Loran is ready to fight to the death.”
Their surroundings once more turned into the cave in the volcano. The fire-dragon with a glowing violet haze in its eyes was roaring at Arienne. Cain almost screamed.
“He was once one of us… Eldred, our former king, is inside the fire-dragon of Arland. Arienne is trying to bring the dragon to the battlefield, fighting alone against the archsorcerer that has possessed the dragon.”
Cain sucked in his breath. “Is there anything I can do to help her?”
Fienna shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do. You are very far away from Arland.”
He bit his lip. “Then why are you showing me these things?”
“Because there is something we can do. We can let Arland fall, or we can force the Twenty-Fifth Legion to retreat. But we can’t do it alone.”
Far above him, the song of the three hundred Power generators reached a new intensity. Cain stared upward.
“Those two people,” said Fienna, “are at a crossroads. They have to decide not just their own fate but the fates of countless others. Like kings. And such moments fill us, make us… We have power. We have knowledge. We are history, but we are not future. Our purpose must be given to us.” Fienna’s eyes darkened more. “By someone like you.”
Cain drew a long breath and said, “You want me to decide for you.”
Fienna nodded and reached out to him. “Take our hand. Come inside us. A throne awaits you. Every moment of destiny will be your subject. You are worthy. You can be king. You can save your homeland. And your friend.” Her voice was pleading. The real Fienna had never spoken to him like this. He suppressed a flinch.
“Then everything I wish for will come true?”
“As long as destiny allows it.”
Cain scoffed. “And Mersia. Was that also allowed by destiny?”
“… That wasn’t our fault.” Fienna looked sorrowful. He could not stand seeing her so sad, even though she was not truly Fienna. He couldn’t ask her what she meant. It wouldn’t matter to him, anyway.
“What happens to Arland if we leave them alone?”
“Not even we know. We are at a king’s crossroads. Arienne could still come to the battlefield with the dragon. The King of Arland might vanquish the gigatherion on her own. Or everyone might die and Kingsworth will end up a mass grave.”
Cain made his decision.
“What I really want, what frustrated me because it was never in my hands, was not the fates of the people from the place I left, but the people here, in Fienna’s home. I must go back to take care of them now. I have no desire to steal for myself what Loran and Arienne are fighting for.”
Fienna looked as sorrowful as ever.
“You are a sleeping king after all. Perhaps you aren’t ready yet to rule. But there will come a time when you awaken.”
Fienna vanished. Cain suddenly stood not on the plains of Arland or a land with red earth and a violet sky. He was instead in a narrow, dim chamber filled from floor to ceiling with large, coffin-sized drawers. He felt his way out.
He climbed the spiral staircase and got to the hall of the Senate. The sun was rising in the east. Seeing as the sky wasn’t covered in smoke, the fires seemed to have been brought under control somehow.
Just as he stepped outside, Septima came walking through the forest of statues. The stout man limped along beside her, and Devadas brought up the rear, no sign at all of having been wounded in the crash. Their faces were sooty, their clothes filthy. Only Septima’s green brooch still sparkled.
“You!” Septima shouted, and increased her pace. But Cain didn’t run. He stood calmly by the doors of the Senate, his back straight.
“You…!”
Oddly enough, Septima was having trouble finding the words. Cain looked down at his person. Was his being covered in blood throwing her off? Perhaps an explanation was in order.
“Safani’s body is in a room filled with drawers underneath the Senate.”
“Safani was there…?” This was Devadas with his low, thick voice.
“I killed him. I took care of the problem.”
The three of them looked at one another, and then the stout man said, “I don’t believe that. We’ve been unable to find for him for a decade. No way a badger informant has done what we couldn’t.”
The stout man came up to Cain, his hands balled up into fists. Cain took a step forward, coming face-to-face with him. “ You had a job. I had everything at stake.”
The stout man opened his mouth halfway as if to speak. As Cain stared down at him, the man took a step back without saying anything, his fists loosening up.
Silence fell on the Senate hill.
Cain met Septima’s eyes. Her displeasure from a moment ago was replaced with something like amazement. As he further studied her face, she averted her eyes from him. The stout man was staring at his feet as well, unwilling to challenge Cain again. Devadas lowered his head for a moment, as if he was paying his respects, then looked at Cain. There was a glimmer of appreciation in his normally expressionless face.
Cain was surprised, not at the change in their attitudes, but that he had somehow expected all of this.
Septima finally spoke again.
“So… what… what happened? What happened in the end?”
“I ran after Safani and killed him. I don’t know what he was trying to do. I trust you aren’t going to find fault with me for going into the Senate.”
“Well… as long as you didn’t touch anything… I suppose it won’t be a problem.”
There was the matter of the dead guards beyond the door behind him.
“If something is amiss, blame it on Safani.”
“… Fine.”
“What about the fire in the city?”
“Something went wrong with the Power generators, but they are working again. The fires are almost out, and there are fewer casualties than was first feared.”
“That’s good news.”
He walked down the steps. The stout man came up to Cain and reached for his arm.
“Still, you should come with us to the headquarters—”
He stopped. When Cain turned around, Septima had her hand on the stout man’s shoulder. Confused, the stout man looked from Septima to Cain and to Septima again before taking a step back.
Leaving the three behind him, Cain made his way down from the Senate hill. Wisps of black smoke hung above the city vista ahead, while white smoke rose from the chimneys of the houses around him.
Cain would commission a good tombstone for Fienna’s grave, as the Arlanders who had come to her funeral had asked. Ayana and the children who had surveilled Gladdis’s house also deserved more money for their troubles. He needed to find out exactly who Fienna had been helping all this time and continue her work. He needed a new job. He also had a feeling he’d be seeing the three agents again before long. There were busy days ahead.
A winter wind blew up the hill, but Cain found his heart warmer and lighter than ever. He hugged his coat tighter around himself and went on his way.