CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
The moment Blount fell, the fighting ceased. Evylin and Deckard took the Relics from Blount’s corpse, and what Mages and soldiers remained stood down and dropped their weapons.
Ethenn had never been more grateful for a fight to end.
His muscles were strained, his mind distracted.
Magic had funneled through him, fiercer than ever before.
He’d watched helplessly as Ilain’s body was thrown to the marble.
He could smell the blood seeping from the wound on her forehead.
His heart contracted, but he didn’t allow himself to let his guard down.
Deckard and Evylin approached, Brea and Ethenn stepping up to their side to be their backup.
Obel was unconscious, Thom was pale from blood loss, and Vayden was weak with fatigue—both emotional and physical.
It was clear by the dubious looks in the eyes of the enemy Mages that they doubted the strength of the troop’s victory.
Ignoring their opponents, Deckard stepped to Thom’s side. He set a hand on his stomach, a flash of bronze and a pulse of the Day Relic fully healing the wound that he’d merely cauterized before. Thom sucked in a relieved breath and hefted his sword.
“All good?” Deckard asked.
Thom nodded, the color returning to his face. “Prime as ever.”
At the display of power, the Mages squirmed.
Whether or not they wanted to admit it, Deckard and Evylin’s Bond made them better suited to carry the Relics than Blount.
And their strength wouldn’t falter for quite some time, should they be contested.
With how few enemies remained in the throne room, the odds weighed heavily in the Bonded couple’s favor.
With a wary eye on the Wauldeners, Deckard beckoned Ethenn and Brea. “Here,” he said, handing them each a Relic: Fire for Ethenn and Wind for Brea.
“We have work to do,” Deckard charged as the Relics transformed into weapons.
As one, the remaining members of the troop stepped forward.
They addressed the small crowd of soldiers and Mages.
General Maurcus and Highlord Baurun were their respective leaders.
A quick discussion of surrender took place, but Ethenn was too distracted to pay attention to the details.
He knew there was an argument; General Maurcus challenged Deckard and Evylin’s ability to withstand the resistance of the entire Waulden Army.
Highlord Baurun, with his sharp blue eyes regularly darting to the Relics, quelled that argument.
Ethenn kept a firm grip on the Fire sword in his hand. His Warrior senses still alert, his thoughts kept diverting to the faint yet steady breaths of Ilain. She was alive: injured and unconscious, yet alive.
Tension remained palpable in the room. While they maintained control in the throne room, everyone outside those walls was unaware of the power shift.
Deckard instructed Maurcus to send out an order for his men to stand down.
It was a tenuous situation. One wrong move could undo everything they’d achieved.
However, Maurcus and Baurun finally agreed to work with Deckard, seeming to understand that if they got on his good side, they might find a place for themselves in this new world that was rapidly forming around them all.
That was the thing, Ethenn supposed. The thrones of Wauld and Ephria were empty.
There were no more kings, no more governments.
Someone had to take leadership, or there would be anarchy.
Maurcus and Baurun were leaders in their own right.
They understood this. And they attached themselves to the victors readily.
Over time, peace settled in, allowing the troop to relax enough to check on each other.
Brea went to Obel, finding his pulse steady.
As Deckard’s party had snuck through the palace halls, they’d run across a patrol of soldiers.
Obel had appeared as well. Despite the initial shock of his appearance, he immediately began to aid the troop, taking down Blount’s men in a surprise attack.
He explained that he’d done all he could to prevent Blount’s annihilation of the Alliance.
He’d been the one to send warnings to the Ephrian ministers and even managed to help many members escape Wauld.
Obel had falsely assisted Blount’s investigation, pretending to have no prior knowledge of the Alliance, which meant he’d had to facilitate the deaths of those members he couldn’t get out.
Through his research, he’d “learned” information about Vayden and other members of the organization.
But he never gave Blount details that would lead directly to them.
Though Deckard and Ethenn were skeptical of his sincerity as they questioned him in the hall, Vayden, Isla, and Brea trusted the duke.
And when Obel kept Deckard, Brea, and Ethenn’s magic a secret when a new band of soldiers discovered them in the halls, Obel pretending to be their prisoner, Ethenn realized they’d made the right call.
With the Day Relic, Deckard restored Obel to consciousness. They needed his knowledge of the Alliance to bring the nations under full control, and his assistance would also lend credence to their cause amongst the greater ranks of the Waulden Mages.
Yet, their victory hardly felt like a success, with Rafferty and Isla lost.
They’d laid their friends out at the foot of the dais. Vayden, Evylin, and Brea cried openly. Thom had tears in his eyes. Deckard and Ethenn controlled their emotions better than the rest.
But Ethenn’s heart broke, seeing his friend lying on the emerald marble, lifeless, his skin nearly as pale as his white-blond hair.
Evylin pressed a kiss to Rafferty’s cheek and whispered, “You were better than you liked to pretend. Not a thief or a smuggler. You were a hero.”
Ethenn nearly cried then.
However, they didn’t have time to languish in their grief.
With Obel’s help, they took control of the palace.
The few remaining Mages sat placidly in the corner, awaiting instruction.
Obel called for the palace’s head of staff, informing him of the situation.
His nobility granted him an understanding of how to set up new leadership.
Maurcus and Baurun deferred to his commands.
They knew him and trusted him. They were pleased to work with him, knowing that he had great influence in the current Waulden government and that it would spare their lives.
While servants came to care for Isla and Rafferty’s bodies, others offered to prepare a recovery room for Ilain. Vayden went with her when the time came.
Deckard requested that Thom and Ethenn follow Obel’s coordinates to the Alliance’s safehouses, seeking out any surviving members. They needed to restore order to the kingdom, and their small troop wouldn’t be enough.
Stepping out into the late night, tension pulsed within Ethenn’s skull. He was grateful for the task, removing him from the politics of the throne room. With a letter in General Maurcus’s hand and the Fire Relic, they had little to fear from the Waulden soldiers patrolling the city.
The late-night sky was a rich purple, stars glittering in the depths of the Heavens. The ivory moon glowed with half of its face, while the shadow moon showed a mere sliver.
“Well,” Thom sighed as they walked out of the palace gate, “that was . . .”
Ethenn didn’t reply. There was no conclusion to that sentence. It was. It was everything—every emotion in Terraeus. And Ethenn hated it.
Thom halted, and Ethenn turned to look over his shoulder. A pained expression twisted Thom’s face. “What have we done?” he asked.
Ethenn blinked. “We ended the Centurial War.”
Thom cursed, pressing his hands to his face. “Rafferty’s dead.”
A tremor worked through Ethenn’s hands. He tightened his jaw, nodding.
“We lost our best friend.”
Ethenn refused to allow the grief to penetrate his demeanor.
“Did you hear me?” Thom demanded.
“Of course I heard you,” Ethenn returned dully. “But right now, we have a job to do.”
Thom scowled. “Why aren’t you more upset by this?”
“You think I’m happy right now?” Ethenn snapped, heat blistering along his neck.
“I’m furious! But what am I supposed to do?
Fall down and weep? We have a job to do,” he repeated.
“Raff is gone, yet thousands of others are relying on us to save them. This world still needs fixing. I’ll grieve later. ”
Thom studied him, a strange look on his face.
His eyes flickered to the Fire Relic around Ethenn’s chest. Already, it tugged on his heart, warping his thoughts.
Passion swirled in his chest. He wanted to unleash his anger and hurt.
He wanted to tear down everything in sight.
But he forced himself to focus on the knowledge that Ilain—the fearsome Fire Mage who experienced these impulsive feelings constantly—would deny herself and save the world before falling apart with grief.
Thom seemed to understand that too.
“Come on,” he said, clapping Ethenn on the shoulder. “Let’s get this done then.”
39TH OF RADIA, 1574
Four days passed in constant chaos, one demand flowing after the next.
Upon finding the hidden Alliance members—Carlile among them—Ethenn and Thom brought them to the palace, where they took over the government.
It felt like a runaway horse, wholly out of Ethenn’s control.
The city was firmly under Alliance authority, its leaders giving the troop new orders every moment.
Gratefully, some of those commands were to rest. They requested that Deckard, Evylin, Brea, and Ethenn keep the Relics until better guards could be procured.
The days passed in a blur of politics and mundanity.
Setting up a country was far more laborious than Ethenn expected.
It was slow and arduous. There were so many things to consider: the current state of security, daily routines, the new military regime, law and order, and so much more.
Ethenn had a perpetual headache through it all.