Chapter 36
Lucien
It’s strange how a place I’ve considered home my whole life can end up feeling so foreign.
The familiarity of what I’ve known, what I loved, no longer brings comfort.
And it’s because of his doing. As much as I want to be away from here, I also want to restore what I know Pomerium has always been.
What it could be. And with Aris at the helm, it will never see the greatness it deserves, that my fellow beings deserve.
I arrive at the safe house just past second dusk, warping in under full cloak and untraceable.
Xan and I chose this place for its isolation, buried deep within the Deadwood Ridge, shielded by natural interference and terrain that blocks most tracking methods.
Even other Warpers would have trouble finding it.
The exterior looks like an abandoned weather station, rusted panels, moss-covered stonework, old-world camouflage. But the interior is a different story.
As I step inside, I sweep my hand across the waiting glyphs.
They flare briefly, then release the seal with a soft hiss, the door gliding open.
A quiet thrum greets me, old magic and dormant technology humming together, while a cool blue glow spills from the backup systems. Everything is clean, calculated, fully stocked, exactly as we left it.
Rows of lockers line the back wall, each aligned to specific mission types: scouting the unknown, breach containment, banishing the unlucky or unwilling.
Interdimensional weapons rest in locked cases.
Shelves of rune-etched daggers and swords, staffs threaded with living light, surveyors for tracing energies, cloaking nodes, and nullstone disruptors line the adjacent wall.
The air smells of metal and long-held tension.
We’ve launched some of our hardest missions from this very room.
One in particular still stands sharp in my mind: Xan and I hunting a high-tier breacher across five sectors.
He relied on crafted sigils, while I served as the conduit, feeling every ripple in the shifting currents and following the trail through sheer instinct.
We went three days without sleep, running on adrenaline and raw power.
Another time, we scrambled to pull a few stranded Warpers back from the brink, their forms fraying mid-crossing as the realms rejected them.
We stabilized what we could, dragging them through before the veil sealed shut.
This safe house is more than stone and magic.
It holds every fragment of who we are. Our scars. Our memories.
I step deeper inside, activating only the dim perimeter lights.
No reason to light up any more than that.
I’m not planning to stay long. Not on this mission.
I stayed cloaked during the warp in, so nothing should have flared.
Even with the braqui and high-grade Warper tracking in the region, my innate gifts run deeper. I trust in that.
Still, caution is more than instinct. It’s survival. This isn’t a defense operation. I won’t need most of what Xan and I have stored here. But disappearing and staying truly invisible takes more than raw power.
It takes precision. It takes planning. But this isn’t about breachers or sabotage. It’s about something more fragile. More dangerous, even.
Reputation.
I’m here to prove I’m still loyal. Still Pomerian. To the Order. To the elders who actually hold the power to shape the future of this realm. And as much as I dislike the path this is pushing me toward, I already know where I need to begin.
I scan the chambers while I wait. Gaining access inside wasn’t difficult. I cloaked in, and though a few of the external tracers were stubborn, I knew exactly where they were and how they triggered. I should. I’m the one who installed them.
There are new touches, furniture I don’t recognize, more modern upgrades than before. Seems sitting on one of the thrones in the High Order is agreeing with someone. On one shelf, I spot a framed image. A family portrait. It turns my stomach.
“So, privacy means nothing to you anymore, Lucien?” Zalga’s voice cuts through the room as the front door opens.
“I figured you’d realize I’d come eventually,” I say flatly. “So let’s skip the formalities. I don’t have time to waste.”
“I see.” Her figure materializes as she enters the living quarters, elegant, composed, every inch the diplomat she’s crafted herself to be. “It’s good to see you, Lucien,” she says calmly.
“Is it, Zalga? Last I heard, you approved my capture during the last Order meeting. Or was it my execution? Hard to keep the details straight.”
Her eyes drop to the floor.
“I didn’t agree with it. But I’m only one voice within the Order.
And with only six in the circle, I’m easily outvoted.
” She glances up at me, and I know what she’s implying.
My refusal to accept the title of Gatekeeper is still a sore point.
“Tell me what you want, Lucien. Are you here to harm me?”
I pace slowly through the living room, eyes brushing over artifacts of the life she’s built, mementos, achievements, shadows of something peaceful. She stands near the couch, watching me with wary eyes. Her question stops me.
“Of course not. Do you think I’ve become that kind of being, Zalga?”
Her gaze narrows, analyzing my words. We both know this game. “No, Lucien. But I don’t know what you want. Seems to me you’re quite content in the mortal realm. With your . . . human.”
Her tone freezes, but I don’t bite. “You know what Aris is doing is wrong. You know this isn’t who we are. We don’t destroy what we fear. Not when it poses no threat. That’s never been our way. My mother—”
“She never would’ve allowed this,” Zalga cuts in, sharp. “You’re right. But she’s gone, Lucien. And you left us. So take some responsibility!”
I stop. The sting is deserved. “So help me make it right. I need to reclaim my place as Gatekeeper. I need to fix what’s broken and stop Aris.”
I see the flicker of relief in her eyes at talk of my return, but it shifts too fast and is replaced by something hotter.
Anger.
“This is about her, isn’t it?” she snaps. “You don’t care about Pomerium. It seems you don’t even care about protecting yourself. You care about Aris ordering her capture.”
I pause. She’ll see through any lie I try to offer. And she’s not entirely wrong.
“Both can be true. I do care. I want what my mother wanted. Peace and balance for our realm. But yes, I won’t pretend I don’t want to protect her. She doesn’t deserve to be hunted like this. She isn’t a threat.”
Zalga meets my eyes, unblinking. “If she’s not a threat, if she’s not important, then why do the Surgers want her so badly?”
I look away. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”
She lets out a quick breath, part laugh, part disbelief. “I never thought I’d see the day. Lucien Darrag, of all beings, caught up in matters of the heart. And with a mortal, no less.” She shakes her head, and I let her have that moment.
“Will you help me?” I ask. “I know you don’t owe me anything. I understand that. But I’m asking anyway. Because I know you’re not like the others. You’re good. You always have been.”
She looks up at me, her eyes full of emotion. Then she nods slowly.
“I’ll help. Not because I believe you deserve it. But because it’s right. And because . . .” Her voice falters. “I’ve never been any good at saying no to you.”
She holds my gaze. “But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?”
I don’t answer. Because what she’s saying is true. I knew.
“Thank you,” I start to say, but she lifts a hand, acknowledging the words and dismissing the topic in the same gesture. The emotion is still there, plain on her face, but the moment she catches me watching, she tightens her composure.
“I’ll speak with Marra. She’s always been fair, even if her loyalties have drifted toward Aris lately.”
“Your support means a great deal to me.”
“I’m making no promises, Lucien,” she replies quietly. “But I will try.”
Marra always held deep respect for my mother, but she’s a woman ruled by law and protocol. Even if she’s supported Aris lately, she isn’t beyond reason, and there’s no one better than Zalga to present my case. She respects Zalga. If she speaks, Marra will listen.
I offer her a faint smile before turning toward the door.
“Where will you go next?” she asks, her voice wavering as she follows a few steps behind.
“To find the only other member of the Order I still believe can be reached,” I say, and then I pull the front door closed behind me.
I’ve known Orren all my life. My mother used to call him an unwavering beacon of virtue. He’s never feared what he doesn’t understand. And he’s always been cautious of Aris and his hunger for control.
When I arrive, he senses me before he sees me.
“Lucien!” he exclaims, his eyes going wide as his posture jerks in an unguarded reaction. “I didn’t expect this.”
He steps into his home, giving the area a quick once-over, then offers me a small, lopsided smile. “I guess my security system could use some attention.”
“That’s true. Something I’ve warned you about before,” I say, offering a small smile as Orren looks embarrassed.
And it was true. I’d told him more than once to tighten his wards and defenses during my visits for Warper business.
He never quite took it to heart, but maybe this incident will finally get through to him.
“There’s something more important I need to discuss,” I continue.
His expression goes still, all hints of humor draining away. He knows I didn’t come here to lecture him about security.
“Aris isn’t pleased with me. I know that. That’s why I’m here.”
I see Orren nod in agreement.
“I need you to understand that I’m not a threat to the Order, or to our realm.” He studies me as I speak. “I’ve always honored my oath to protect Pomerium. To protect Imperium. That hasn’t changed, and it never will.”