Chapter 117

Undue Wrongs

Sylas and Agnes sat side by side, their heads deep in the tomes of history, sighs of exasperation echoing out more frequently with each passing minute. They had been at it for weeks now but to no avail. Nothing new or of note was uncovered and discovered, and despite everything, Sylas was unable to connect any of the dots he had been fed.

Through no tome did he hear a mention of ‘Imporium’s Cairn’ or ‘Calibrium’ or ‘Godly Chains’ or ‘Soul Arts’ or anything indicating a form of ‘Ascendance’. One thing he could confirm was that the Anur family was likely a remnant of the fallen Empire, either partly or in its entirety. And though it was a bombshell of the revelation, seeing as it was one of the most respected and powerful houses of the Kingdom that could likely start a rebellion at any point, it did not point toward any of the overarching, magical narratives.

Agnes was in the same bind--she, similarly, had never heard of the phrases and the words, and was even more in the dark when it came to nobility as her ‘forte’, so to say, was in the arts of magic and very niche and fringe pieces of knowledge.

In fact, Sylas had already toured through the most knowledgable minds in the castle--Valen, Ryne, and Derrek knew nothing either. And though he didn’t mention Anur House, it was quite telling that even someone like Derrek was entirely unaware of the concepts.

This meant one thing--those secrets were rooted in the founding of the Kingdom. Beyond just the shallow, surface-level confrontations that played out for all to see, there were secrets that ran through the veins of reality, virtually carved into something invisible to most.

He took a peek at that depth but it meant little since he was unable to make sense of it. Though he could try and extrapolate and form conclusions, rather than helping him, it could only do harm as it had the chance of forming biases toward which he’d naturally gravitate when looking for answers.

“Gaaah,” eventually, he pushed back and grunted, standing up and walking away from the desk. He poured himself a cup of wine and walked back, seeing that the Prophet was still hung over the tome. “Got anything?”

“Other than the fact that whoever wrote these books had never heard of the word ‘fun’? No, nothing,” she replied, pulling back as well and stretching. “Are you sure you didn’t just mishear or misremember those words? I’ve come across things like ‘Godly Memories’. Maybe you meant that?” she joked.

“I’ve a feeling that all these answers lie with the true core of the Kingdom--the royal family,” he said, sitting down. “I’ve contemplated for a while that Valen’s banishment this far out was intentional for one reason or another. Queen Lea being from Anur House, especially, solidifies something--there is a secret about both the founding of the Kingdom as well as the war with the Empire that stood here that will likely change how we look at things entirely. Now, I just don’t know whether the Queen is being used to tie down the King, or whether it’s the simple matter of keeping each other in check... but we won’t get those answers this far out. I’m just surprised your gods aren’t telling you anything since they have to be involved with this somehow.”

“What stuck with me the most,” she said. “Is you mentioning how your Way can harm whoever he is, while most others can’t. Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” Sylas shrugged. “I don’t think it’s particularly different. It’s basically just a derivative of the Order’s Way. Also, it’s not just my Way--it’s a combination of two.”

“Right, the Heartseeker and yours,” she nodded. “Maybe that’s the key? As far as I can tell from all this reading, Ways are acts of defiance--means of using something which effectively doesn’t belong to humans. Maybe there are some limitations there? I mean, though Gods aren’t all-powerful, they’re still extremely strong. I don’t think they’d just sit by and let it happen.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he looked at her. “I keep hearing and reading about Gods’ influence on the world... but I haven’t seen a clear example still. Even you, someone directly tied to a deity, are just a conduit. You can’t make any true change past the human limitations.”

“... what’s your point?” she asked, frowning.

"Me," he said. "I'm the point. Not my Way or any of that shit--but my effective immortality. It's clear that the Gods are aware of it--aware of me. This begets two possibilities--either they are responsible for this... or are entirely incapable of interfering. And, if I'm being honest, I'm leaning toward the latter one."

“Why?” she quizzed.

“You.”

“Huh?”

“How our realities are bent,” Sylas elaborated. “You were aware, basically from the get-go, that you were tied to them. Me? Nothing. Not once was there ever an indication they were somehow behind all of this. If anything, it was the opposite. The more I read about things and look at them from the outside seeing in, the more it seems to me that whatever influence gods have on this world at the moment is very soft.

“It means that they cannot directly interfere--they can’t just send a magical wind down here and cut down a person or two. Their influence is entirely relegated to, well, their delegates--namely you and in extension others similarly tied to them. However, the scenario surrounding me is an extremely direct influence--it’s effectively bending the laws of nature and reality to the point of creating a loop of time and space.”

“What about my luck, though?” she suddenly asked. “Isn’t that direct interference?”

"Possibly," he sighed. "I don't know. I just desperately want to make sense of things... but I can't. Everything is so goddamn convoluted and fucked. Another question now is how any of what we've just learned ties in with the plight of the dead. Is it really so simple that Anur House is brokering a deal with the dead in order to weaken the Kingdom for an eventual coup d'etat? Is that why the King sent Valen here? As means of preserving lineage or creating an anti-force? Then what the fuck am I doing here? Did gods send me to assist him? What about you? It can't all just be a coincidence. No way."

“... there’s another possibility,” she said suddenly.

“Which one?”

“That it’s the Immortals,” her expression turned strange. “They are known to occasionally interfere. Never to this degree, obviously, but if anyone besides the Gods has this kind of potential influence... it’s potentially them.”

“... maybe,” Sylas sighed yet again, having to admit that it was just as much of a possibility as any other. “I’m more curious about the world at large.”

“World at large?”

“Beyond this Kingdom, beyond this peninsula. All of these tiny chunks seem too centralized to this place. What about the rest of the world? What the fuck are they doing?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve had some dreams before of places beyond, I think.”

“Really? Like what?”

“There was one about a maiden ship,” she said, resting her head against the desk while a depressed and dark expression fell on her pale face. “I wasn’t able to see the full name, just ‘Dream’. Men and women aboard the ship were... unfamiliar.”

“How?”

"Their skin," she said. "Was dark. Like obsidian. I've never seen neither a man nor a woman with obsidian skin in the Kingdom. Plus, they spoke in a language I couldn't understand. Their ships, too, seemed different--they were outfitted with strange gems and metals and contraptions I've never seen before. Truthfully, I've only ever seen a ship or two myself, but I've seen them occasionally in my dreams, and most were ordinary, wooden sails."

“...” Sylas listened to it keenly, some of his curiosity sated. “What happened to them? People on the ship, I mean.”

“A beast attacked them,” she said. “A snake-like thing with wings of a bird. It came at them during a night and sunk their ship. I... I’m sorry. I find it difficult to describe.”

“Don’t be,” he smiled. “I’m interested in more. If you are willing to share.”

“Really?” she looked at him.

“Of course,” he nodded. “You might not be the best storyteller around--”

“--hey!!”

“But at least the stories you tell are fun. Well, not fun fun. Depressingly fun, I suppose. Like mine.”

“... I have thousands,” she said. “I remember all of them.”

“... shit. It’s a miracle you’re barely more fucked up than I am.”

"In what reality is that even remotely true?" she grunted, rolling her eyes and sitting up. "I am sound of mind and of a beautiful body. You're neither."

“I’ve seen you stare at my body,” he grinned. “Lips say one thing, but the tongue that licked ‘em spoke otherwise.”

“What?! I never licked anything!”

“Oh, so you did stare?”

“Dammit.”

“Ha ha ha, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’ve stared too, don’t worry.”

“Haaah...”

“Anyway, stories. Give me more stories. Maybe there’s something in ‘em to make sense of something at least.”

"I doubt it," she shrugged. "But fine. Another one... is about a strange structure in a desert. It was shaped like a tip of a pike and was built on top of the sandy surface out of sandstone. In my dream, it was home to some kind of a priest order--I recall them wearing ornate robes with a cut frame, where women's breasts were exposed."

“Oh, damn.”

“And where none of the men were like you,” she scoffed. “And were prim and proper gentlemen.”

“Don’t worry, they touched themselves well enough in private.”

“... you really do assume that everyone’s like you, don’t you?”

“I don’t,” he shook his head. “I’m just taking blind jabs, seeing what gets a rise out of your cheeks.”

“While they were holding some praying ceremony,” she elected to ignore him and continued the story. “The temple, I imagine, was raided by some armored men riding strange horse-like creatures, though they were scaled, long-necked, and had eight legs in total.”

“In total across all animals or...?”

"Per one animal! What do you mean across all animals?! There were like forty of them! What? Did each animal have a quarter of a leg to use?!!"

“... what the fuck? That’s what gets a rise out of you?” Sylas looked at her strangely. “Man, you’re one strange, morbid creature.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“... you just hurt yourself more than me. You do realize that, right?”

“Shut up. I spoke in the heat of the moment. I didn’t mean it.”

“Sure, sure. So, these quarter-legged animals came carrying quarter-cocked men--sorry, sorry, please don’t leave! I’m just messing around! I’ll be silent! I’ll seal my lips shut! Just keep telling me the stories! Hey, Agnes? You most beautiful thing won’t you...”