34. The last leytouched #2
“He has been here for a lifetime, Felix! Alone. Abandoned. Tortured! The very least we can do is listen.”
Then, with one hand, she clutched onto Felix’s wrist. With the other, she slowly, carefully entwined her fingers with those of the last leytouched.
***
They stood in the middle of the plaza, but the Nexus was entirely different.
The place was alive. Banners Felix did not recognise lined the stairways.
Groups of people milled around; scholars, soldiers in strange armour, merchants and tradespeople.
The air shimmered with the presence of magic, but it was not erratic or fractured.
It was comforting, grounding, like the stone beneath their feet.
Beside him, Isolde stood frozen, her eyes wide with wonder. None of the people around took any notice of them, and Felix had the disorienting sensation that his hand would pass straight through anything he tried to touch.
A couple walked past, their hands entwined, deep in conversation.
Their strides were purposeful and confident.
One was a woman wearing a long coat reinforced with silvery plates of metal.
A curved blue sword was strapped to her back.
A weapon made of Aetherglass? He’d never heard of such a thing.
At her side was a dark-skinned woman in robes, ley markings evident on her skin.
A leytouched, walking freely through the crowds.
Felix stared after them. They passed a group of scholars who smiled at them in passing, some bowing their heads in greeting. Nobody shied away from the so obviously marked woman, or otherwise seemed to fear her. She looked, for all intents and purposes, like a respected member of the community.
As quickly as they had appeared, the surroundings changed.
They were still in the plaza, but the air was no longer peaceful.
It was thick with tension, and scorch marks covered the stairs and buildings.
There were far fewer people around, and those who were looked dishevelled and anxious.
The tradespeople were gone, and makeshift barricades formed a blockade at the top of the grand causeway, guarded by several warriors wearing the same long coats as the woman from before.
They all sported the same worried expressions, dark circles under the eyes, and deep frowns creasing their brows.
Another flash and a battle raged around them.
Leytouched stood side by side with their guardians, facing overwhelming numbers of both mages and warriors alike.
They fought fiercely, bravely, but they were pushed back, regardless.
Slowly but surely, the fight moved up the steps and into the inner sanctum of the Nexus.
Each time the defenders retreated further, they were forced to leave the bodies of their slain behind.
Felix watched as a blond leytouched man was dragged away by two others, screaming in agony, when a tall warrior with a long red braid was cut down just ahead of him.
As the woman’s blood spilled onto the stones, the glow of the man’s ley markings dulled along with it.
A handful of bedraggled leytouched and their warriors made a desperate last stand in the same grand, vaulted chamber Felix and Isolde were standing in.
The fighters created a shield wall with their bodies, seemingly absorbing the offensive magic thrown at them by the much larger group of mages pouring into the sanctum.
Mages making the mistake of coming too close collapsed to the ground almost instantly, their magic and very life drained by the last few remaining leytouched.
No matter their vast power, though, it was not enough.
A ball of fire soared over their heads, hitting the wall behind them.
Debris rained down on the cornered defenders, and in the confusion, they were easily overrun by the overwhelming numbers of their assailants.
Felix and Isolde stood by silently and witnessed the end.
The desperate battle faded, but the large vaulted room remained, the sounds of fighting replaced by an oppressive silence.
A crowd of mages surrounded a handful of dishevelled leytouched.
Most looked injured; all looked broken. Their stares were vacant, and their bodies slumped.
Heavy metal collars hung around their necks.
Time passed. The bound leytouched were left, abandoned.
They were strong at first. Some tried to break free.
Some tried to end things differently. None succeeded, and eventually they withered away, forgotten.
When the first few died, the ley lines surged and crackled until they were replaced one by one.
The cycle repeated again and again over centuries.
Finally, an unconscious leymarked young man, barely more than a child, was dragged into the room by two burly fighters in leather armour. Behind them walked a mage, who gestured to an empty slab.
Fifty years since then.
Felix spun around. The last leytouched, as withered as before but standing up and alert, stood behind them.
I didn’t know anything. I was alone, no one was on my side.
He turned, looking at Isolde with that awful, otherworldly stare.
You have each other. Please. Release me. Break this cycle.
Isolde nodded, her eyes shining with tears. She made to turn away, but stopped herself.
“What is your name?” she asked, her voice shaking.
The leytouched tilted his head ever so slightly, the first truly human gesture Felix had seen him make.
I do not remember. It was a name for another life, a life that was never lived.
The vision faded, and they stood back where they were before. Isolde still gripped Felix’s wrist. The leytouched’s hand slipped out of her grasp, his body silent .
“This was a happy place once,” Isolde said quietly. “A place of… of community and knowledge. Why did it have to change?”
Felix shook his head. “Something must have happened that led to this. When something scares them, most people’s first instinct is to destroy it.”
“They were all pairs…” she continued, glancing at him. “Do you think it will take both of us? To undo this?”
“I don’t know… Maybe?” Felix answered. “What do we do?” He turned to the leytouched and considered the creepy metal collar. “Should we take that off…?”
Isolde reached towards it tentatively. “I think we should, but something about it feels wrong. Dangerous.”
“Don’t touch it,” Felix said, stepping in front of her. “I’ll do it.” He took a long look at the cold chain links and their eerily glowing crystals, then set his jaw and seized the collar.
Immediately his arm burned all the way up to the shoulder.
Wave after wave of pain surged up through his hand, paralysing his muscles, contracting them in spasms. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth and pulled.
The chain links seemed to be fused to the poor leytouched’s skin, ripping off layers of flesh when Felix tried to drag it over his head.
If the withered man felt anything, he did not show it.
With a last tug, the collar came off. A lifetime of hurt surged through Felix in seconds. A malevolent presence slithered around his heart, cracked it open and peered into its deepest, darkest depths. His vision went black. A voice sounded in his head, both familiar and utterly alien.
You’re not even a little special, are you?
A worthless, nameless boy, hacking away stupidly at things he doesn’t understand.
What makes you think you have any value?
Even your own parents did not care for you.
You’re not worthy of her. You’re not worthy of anything.
It would be no loss to anyone, truly, if you did not exist at all.
He was distantly aware of his knees hitting the floor. The chain continued to singe the palm of his hand, tendrils of agony wrapping around his arm, under his skin, into his bones. There was no point. No point in any of this. Best to just give up .
So weak, no spine at all. Pathetic. Run, coward. Run like you always do.
Something bright and blue appeared in the periphery of his mind. Small at first, then it steadily grew.
“Felix!”
Don’t delude yourself. She doesn’t care about you. You’re nothing.
“Felix! Snap out of it!”
Light coiled around him, pushed into his thoughts, fought the dark presence that had crawled in. Hands were on him, soft hands. Hands he knew. They grabbed onto his shoulders, shaking them. They touched his face, gently at first, then firmly.
You’ll ruin it, like you always ruin everything.
“Felix! Please!”
Isolde yelled at him, slapped him, kissed him. The world slowly came back into view.
With every last bit of willpower he could muster, Felix flung the collar away from him. The loud clanging of metal on stone echoed through the vaulted room, bouncing off the walls like unpleasant laughter. Felix collapsed forward, his hands on the cold tiles, his breathing fast and heavy.
Isolde’s voice was soft but urgent. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. “Look at me.”
He forced himself to lift his head. Her face swam into focus, twisted with concern. She was shaking. But her eyes, those endless pools of midnight, were what truly brought him back.
Her thumbs brushed over his cheekbones. “Are you alright?”
His throat was raw. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Fine.”
“You’re lying.”
“Probably.” He tried to smile but failed, his body uncooperative.
He looked past her to the motionless figure on the stone slab.
Isolde turned to follow his gaze. “I don’t think the…
chain was the link between the leytouched and the Arcaenum.
It seems to just be a… a leash.” Her eyes strayed to where the collar had landed near the entrance, disgust crossing her features .
Felix slowly rose to his feet, wincing as he did. His legs shook and pain throbbed in his skull; all energy had deserted him entirely. But at least that evil voice was gone.
Isolde turned to the slab and the Arcaenum behind it, the glowing threads pulsing brightly.
She nodded to herself. “I think I have an idea. It feels like a wound, just… very large.” She inhaled deeply and raised her hands slowly, as if touching something he could not see.
Light enveloped her, seemed to reach for her from the ground, from the air itself.
Felix watched, awestruck, as one fibre of silver gracefully uncoiled itself from the rest and snapped, then dissolved into thousands of minuscule sparks.
She staggered back, nearly falling to her knees.
“Woah,” Felix said as he caught her. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s too much,” she answered breathlessly. “I can’t contain it. But…” she looked down at his hands on her waist. “Stay like this?”
“Like what?”
“Hold me.”
Felix laughed. “That’s my role in all this? Hold you? Count me in.”
She gave him a look that was part amusement and part exasperation, then turned back to face the Arcaenum. His arms circled her, and he leaned his cheek against the side of her head. “Let’s do it.”
Isolde nodded, grim but determined, then directed her focus at the task before her.
In moments she was wreathed in light, her eyes closed, power coursing through her.
Time froze as he held onto her; she was a kite in a storm, and he was the rock she was tethered to.
She unbound the silvery strands like she played the most delicate of instruments, looking as confident and skilful as if she had done it countless times before.
When the thread snapped, the binding was broken with a thrum that shook the very foundations of the mountain itself.
As the ties unravelled, so did the emaciated body on the slab. The last leytouched exhaled a final breath, and a faint light rose from his chest.
Felix watched, transfixed, as the fragile remnants of the man dissolved until there was nothing left of him, no corpse, not even bones. Just a wisp of blue and silver, spiralling upward, joining the wild current of magic .
A flicker of presence brushed against them, then was gone.
A tidal wave of force ripped through the Nexus when the Arcaenum broke free from its containment.
It rampaged, surged, bounced light from wall to wall with savage abandon.
Isolde trembled violently, and Felix feared, for one terrifying moment, that the power was overwhelming her – that it would consume her.
But then he realised the Arcaenum – the god-creature, the apparent source of all the world’s magic he was seeing right before his own eyes – was not lashing out in rage or vengeance.
It was leaping around in pure, unadulterated joy.
Like a small child with boundless energy, twisting and tumbling, surging outward into the ley lines in a flood of power.
Isolde sagged in his arms. She was pale, and her ley markings had darkened, but her eyes shone – not with magic, but with tears.
“You did it,” Felix whispered.
She smiled her proudest, fiercest smile up at him. “No. We did it.”
Isolde turned to face him. She looked so tired, so worn, but above all so happy.
If anyone ever asked him to recall his favourite memory of her, this would be it.
He wanted to say something meaningful, something profound, but the words would not come.
So he simply held her as the storm of magic played out and eventually calmed down around them.
However long it lasted, whether it was eternity or mere minutes, it was not enough. Sounds rang out in the hallway behind them. Running footsteps and urgent shouts, heading their way.
Isolde’s face fell, the happiness replaced by fear in the blink of an eye. Felix turned instinctively, placing himself in front of her. His hands reached for his weapons, but his heart sank. He was exhausted. She was drained. What chance did they have?
Kaeloth burst through the archway, flanked by four other mages and a swarm of mercenaries.
His emerald robes billowed around his legs, and the intensity of his eyes struck Felix like nothing else.
They were wide, almost bulging, blazing with fury and disbelief.
“What have you done, you stupid girl?” he snarled.
“Do you have any inkling of what you have unleashed?”