Chapter 023

Two Roads

Eight months had passed since the war; somehow it seemed the fighting never ended.

James remembered that night vividly, how could he not? He was alone in his house, bones ragged and mentally exhausted. This overwhelming tiredness from a long day of patrol missions in the capital would lull him to sleep at his study desk, the glowing bulb’s light ejecting onto his face. He was often told that, when one enlists in the military, they would never receive an ounce of rest ever again. This, as James would come to discover, wasn’t far from the truth. Dropping his guard and allowing his consciousness to drift into the crevices of a realm infested with dreams, the pounding of a fist meeting his door exploded into his ears, nearly resulting in the young captain stumbling onto his bottom.

Holding his scalp, he clumsily started on a path to the door where a series of heavy, disrupting knocks continued to ignite the innards of his house with noise. “Yes,” James yawned, opening the door. Every ounce of drowsiness would escape him, however, when, wrapped in the darkness of the night, a squadron of military officers peered at him in silence. A common factor they each shared was a forlorn glower staining the lower halves of their faces.

One of the men, a brigadier general with silky black hair covering one of his pair of cerulean eyes and a scruffy beard at the bottom of his chin was the first to speak. James had never met him before. Discounting his disheveled appearance, based on the black jacket he donned, as well as the collection of glittering insignia decorating his uniform, James recognized him to be a combat mage, and a high-ranking one at that. He greeted the stunned James with a bow, starting, “Captain Griffin. We couldn’t reach you by phone so we were ordered to greet you directly.”

“Wh...What’s going on? Are we under attack?”

“No, nothing like that. It has to do with your old man, Lieutenant General Vance Griffin. You see, well, there’s been an...incident.”

This was all that James needed to hear. He went with them, not even bothering to change out of his sloppily put-together sleeping attire. Along their drive, the combat mage explained, “As I’m sure you’ve been informed, there was a recent gathering between our country and Gyrakian forces at our border. It was meant to reaffirm our commitment to the treaty and that we truly long to put the bloodshed of the war behind us.”

“...And?” asked James, leaning forward in his seat.

Sitting across from him, the combat mage bolstered a frown, before proceeding, “Long story short, there was a surprise attack. Some nutjob used an enchanted bomb to, well, take matters into his own hands. It resulted in the deaths of not only the President of Gyrak, Mortimer Winslow but also our sovereign himself.”

“Wait, the sovereign’s...”

“Yes,” he confirmed, dipping his chin. “Levioth Grisham is no more.” This was concerning, to say the least. A nation without a ruler was bound to breed a new set of problems with the potential to inflict long-term repercussions even greater than the 7 Year War. Regardless, James cared not so much for those specifics at the moment as he did about the situation regarding his father. “As for the lieutenant general,” said the mage, seemingly detecting James’ inner thoughts. “He was also caught in the blast and is currently in critical condition. He wasn’t certain of what Ryas had in store for him so he instructed me to bring you to him. Apparently, he’s got some matters he longs to get off his chest.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it, he’s a close friend of mine.”

When they arrived at the Savannis State Hospital, James leaped out the door of the vehicle and launched inside the building. He ignored the angry nurses shouting at him not to run through the hallways, climbed three flights of stairs without pausing to rest, and, as fatigue started to win him over, came to a halt outside the door of Room #317. Swallowing a cluster of saliva, James built the courage to enter. Stepping inside, he found his father lying in bed and strapped to a complex, metal machine displaying the soldier’s weakened heart rate. Other than the sounds of James' mouth opening and closing for air, only the device’s repeated dinging could be heard.

“Dad...” James uttered, strutting to the side of the bed. Miraculously, the soldier maintained his consciousness. Opening the single eye that wasn’t restrained by the bandages veiling his entire head, Vance Griffin aimed a dark gaze at his son. “I only just heard what happened. Had I found out sooner I would have...”

“No need...to fret...James. It’s not like...I was planning on...going anywhere.” His lighthearted chuckle swiftly deteriorated into a cough. “I’d hoped...you’d never have to see me...like this. Some soldier I was...falling for such an obvious trap.”

Behind him, James heard the door open again. “I brought him here as fast as I could,” said the dark-haired combat mage, approaching the bed.

Vance smiled. “You have my...sincerest gratitude, Ashborn.”

“I’ll...I’ll give you two some privacy.”

James gripped the rails of the bed, tears beginning to cascade down his cheeks. “I don’t understand. The war is over! Why would anyone do this?”

“It doesn’t matter. Listen...James,” Vance said. “Forgive me...for entrusting such a burden to you. This was my mission...I wanted it more than anything...But I won’t be able to...not with this worthless body of mine.”

“Slow down, Father. What are you talking about?”

“Utopia, James. I’m talking about my Utopia.”

James’ enlarged his gaze. This was something he’d constantly talk about. A Utopia where all the countries would band together to create one nation. Where war and death were distant memories. With magic, they could cultivate a better future, succeeding their wildest dreams.

“Call me a fool, if you must. I wouldn’t blame you. To think, a veteran responsible for silencing the voices of many...discussing peace between countries. What nonsense, right?” he grinned weakly. “Some believe it can’t be done. I do.”

“Y...You really think it’s possible?”

“As long as men like you and I continue to exist.”

“I don’t know, Father,” James replied. “The other countries, they’ll never listen. You’ve seen what they’re capable of. Hell, we signed a peace treaty, and yet here you are, in a hospital bed. Despite what they say, none of them want peace. They’ve closed their hearts to forgiveness, and I think I have as well...”

“Don’t do it for yourself, or me. Do it for the lives depending on us. Open your heart to new possibilities, and my endeavor might not appear to be as impossible as you’re letting on.”

“...Father, I...”

“The road to peace doesn’t have to be paved with blood.” Weakly raising his hand into the air, he choked, “It isn’t too late. We can still save this world. Promise me, James. Promise to try.”

Briefly abandoning his reservations, he clasped hands with the lieutenant general. “You’ve my word, Father. I don’t know how or when, but one day, I’ll create our Utopia. And you’ll see it. I’ll be the one to show it to you.”

“I’m glad...Ryas was kind enough to bless me with a son like you...” Vance smiled.

“Father,” James uttered, barely restraining the flood trapped behind his gaze.

“Your journey will be a perilous one...I fear, there will be many who would...attempt to destroy you. Don’t lose sight of your goal...no matter what lies...the world tries to feed you. Never be afraid...to speak your mind. Ryas gave us a voice...for a reason, hasn’t she?”

“Y...Yes, Father.”

“The way I see it, there are two roads our history can take, one of crimson and one of gold. You must...shepherd it...away from war and violence...greed and corruption.” Two powerful coughs escaped his jaws, the soldier’s body contorting forward uncontrollably. “Y...You have to...”

“Worry yourself no longer, Father,” James spoke, setting down his father’s hand onto his stomach. “You’ve done a great service for this country. Please, allow me to take it from here.”

Since that fateful night, sitting on the porch of the hospital as droplets of rain poured over his head, he hadn’t stopped fighting for what his father believed in. A utopia? Was it possible? Only Ryas and the future knew for sure. Regardless, it’s what motivated him to keep moving forward. It was the reason why he was determined not to let any obstacle, no matter how large or sturdy, block the path to that golden dream. And it was also why James, despite being in an unfavorable position, wouldn’t back down from the challenging gazes directed at him from around the room.

His own was fixated on the snarky grin of Damien, the mage more than likely thinking that he held the figurative high ground. Little did he know, James was using him as a puppet. In his eyes, he was but a lifeless, slightly annoying, chest piece that needed to be dealt with. And there was no time like the present. Stiffening his spine, James argued, “Our enemies are not to be underestimated, General Lightbourne.” Though he was actually speaking with the general, he maintained the strong optical link he shared between himself and Damien. “They’ve proven themselves to be a force to be reckoned with. Should we drop our guard, remove a handful of our best men from the capital, they might see it as an opportunity to attack us whilst our guard is lowered.”

“Preposterous!” Damien denied, brushing aside James’ comments with the flick of his wrist. “General Lightbourne, I urge you not to pay attention to his insipid demands. We’re dealing with a minor terrorist threat, not a magic army. They’d be fools to even step foot in Savannis. And even if they did, they wouldn’t last an hour, regardless of if the bulk of our soldiers is posted here or not. Might I remind everyone that until this point they’ve only been interested in targeting mages from the smaller cities? It’s why we’ve been able to keep this case a secret from the public for so long. Even the families of the victims themselves we’ve kept in the dark. And why is this? Well, to be frank, it’s because they know it’d be imbecilic to attack a nation’s stronghold without the support of their own country.”

“We were conditioned to place the safety of our people above ourselves, were we not? This gamble of yours, what if it’s wrong?” James boldly inquired. “Will you take responsibility for the death and destruction then?”

“Fortunately for us, it will never come to that,” Damien smirked. “We have the necessary information and my mages are ready. We’ll dispose of every one of those mongrels, down to the last man. And we’ll do it while keeping the military and our sovereign informed. Not just going around, doing as we please. We’re professionals, mind you.”

James scowled. “I hardly see how this is relevant to the discussion at hand.”

“Then open your eyes, Griffin. For too long have we kept you unchecked. And look at the results! A combat mage died under your watch. The public is growing weary of our ability to maintain the peace. All of these unnecessary problems are a direct byproduct of your recklessness. Yet here you stand with the gall to question my judgment? You think just because of your family’s legacy you have the right to do whatever you want?” He slammed his palms onto the table, azure electricity surging up his arms. “You overestimate yourself, Griffin! Why don’t you spare everyone the headache and allow us to do our jobs properly?”

“I think we’re getting sidetracked, gentlemen. I advise you to keep your personal affairs out of this.” Ferdinand’s gaze shifted from Damien to James. “That being said, however, I must admit we can’t continue letting the Gyrakians run amok in our country. I’m authorizing Lieutenant General Cole’s proposal. Have you the means and the strategy to apprehend these terrorists, then we’ll provide you the opportunity to validate your claims. Let us pray your operation will wield more favorable results.”

Damien gifted the general with a bow. “There is nothing to fear, General Lightbourne. I, Lieutenant General Cole, will do everything in my power to subdue these criminals in a timely manner.” Subtly cutting his dimpled expression towards James, he continued, “I’ll show you what a real soldier of the military is capable of.”

James met his snarky hostility with a smirk of his own. “Is that so? Well, you’ve my support for your continued success, Lieutenant General.”

Sabine strode from the archives room. After their meeting had concluded, James had sent her to retrieve specific files that, for some reason, could only be located in the bowels of the archives. An underground labyrinth filled with restricted documents and reports that haven’t been touched since the beginning of the war. Needless to say, she was exhausted. Spending two hours inside that room, she’d amassed a crown of dust atop her red hair.

Although, what was odd about her order, was that James was noticeably unbothered by the results of the meeting. He’d been relentlessly ridiculed by Damien and had most of his points disregarded by the general himself. Any other person would’ve felt humiliated, ultimately defeated. Yet, there she found him, standing outside the door of his personal office flipping into the air a handheld radio, a bored expression plastered onto his face. She’d agreed to his nonsensical, and random demands out of consideration for the hardships that were repeatedly ambushing him ever since their secret mission was exposed. Now, she was starting to harbor other thoughts.

“What you requested, sir,” Sabine greeted, handing him a small portfolio.

At first, James eyed a group of soldiers as they marched synchronously past them and around the corner ahead. He would then adopt a smirk before replying, “Thanks, Zen. I can always depend on you.” What he did next made Sabine fight the urge to slap him in his grinning face. The folders she’d spent two hours securing were unaffectionately tossed out of her major’s hands and onto the floor. “Jeez, I can’t believe you actually found them. I thought they would’ve thrown them out years ago. Those curators sure are committed to their craft.”

“Sir,” Sabine grumbled, tightly grabbing his shoulder and assaulting James with a monstrous scowl. “Just because you think your days in the military are numbered doesn’t mean you can treat me like a slave.”

“Now, Zen, I can explain...”

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to find those?! It wasn’t exactly easy, in case you were wondering! At one point, I even thought I got lost down there! I thought I’d die surrounded by one hundred years worth of records!”

“Zen, get a hold of yourself!” James nervously grinned. “I’ve never seen you lose your cool like this before.”

“Can you blame me?!” she shouted in his face. “If anything, how can you possibly act so calm?!”

“Well, I have to be," he responded, hesitantly fixing his uniform's collar. "If I lose my wits, who else would be able to lead this mission?”

Sabine froze, her bubbling frustration instantaneously disintegrating. “Wh...What?”

“Griffin!” someone shouted. It was Striker, the soldier running towards them from down the hall. “Damien’s forces arrived in Dianthion ten minutes ago! Everyone else is in their positions and awaiting instructions.”

“Perfect,” James grinned. “And Thatch?”

“It’s just as you predicted, sir. Leones and the others spotted the rat at the Deliverance Memorial Tower. Oddly enough, he’s completely alone.”

James tapped his bottom lip. “He must be ahead of schedule. Alright, we’ll have to move fast. Charter a car for me...”

“Already taken care of,” smirked Striker.

“Hang on a sec!” Sabine loudly interrupted. “Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?!”

Her understandable roars of confusion echoed across the military. The officers and soldiers closest to them regarded the trio with slightly startled looks of suspicion.

Not wanting to draw any more unnecessary attention, James grabbed the fuming mage’s arm and pulled her closer to himself. “I’ll fill you in on the way, yeah?” He would then take her by the hand and initiate his hasty retreat, Striker trailing them from behind. He tried his best to ignore the puzzled expressions they garnered as he tugged Sabine along with him and completely against the infuriated girl's will. She would rarely ever implode, having become a master at controlling her emotions. That being said, even she had her limits. Her burning gray eyes could shatter mountains with a single glance. Even so, no good would come from naysayers catching wind of what was happening. Especially after his little outburst during the meeting. The three soldiers exited the doors of High Command and hopped into a black-tinted, military car purring for them at its driveway. They abandoned the premises without another delay.

The driver of the car, Hazel, glanced at them through the rearview mirror and commented, “Could you have made that any less inconspicuous?”

“Just shut up and drive!” snarled Striker, sitting in the passenger seat beside her.

At the rear of the vehicle, James made it a top priority to sit across from Sabine. He didn’t exactly feel the most comfortable around her, at the moment. “Start talking, sir. What’s happening?” she muttered, folding her arms.

“In all honesty, you really shouldn’t be so surprised, Zen. I mean, how long have you known me? Surely you didn’t think I’d hang my cape so easily?” As Sabine’s rage amplified, James wasted no time in dropping his condescending tone. “Look!” he gasped, creeping further back into his seat and stretching forward his waving, gloved hands. “This was just one of my contingencies, alright?! A final ploy to close this case, once and for all!”

Sabine raised an eyebrow. “Go on...”

“You remember the night our mission failed, don’t you?"

"How could I not?"

"Well, before reinforcements showed up and began confiscating our “evidence”, I instructed Leland to cut three of the Gyrakians from the rest of the group. I knew I would be denied a proper interrogation so I decided to perform one of my own, in secret.”

Sabine took a minute to ponder what she’d been told. “So that’s what you told him?”

“Yes, and we managed to ring some pretty helpful information out of them,” James continued. “Let’s start with the Day of Zero. According to his men, it’s a powerful spell that only Thatch can pull off. Once activated, it’s allegedly impossible to stop. They’re planning on making use of its destructive potential to wipe the capital off the face of the map.”

“Th...That’s absurd. Is Thatch really that capable of a mage?”

“Not entirely,” James answered. “This is where the manite crystals come in. I think he’s using the magic energy he’s accumulated inside of them to boost his strength.”

“What?”

“Based on that bastard Ransford’s reports, after Thatch incinerated one of the crystals with a fire-type spell, he absorbed its essence into his body,” Striker stated in the front seat. “In doing so, the very nature of his spells changed. In a sense, it’s kinda like his magical powers “evolved”. Ransford said he barely escaped with his life.”

A nervous smile cracked on Sabine’s face. “So it really is possible...”

James cocked his head. “You’ve lost me...”

“Wha! Nothing!” she countered, chuckling as she matted the back of her head.

“Moving on...now that we are aware of what Thatch is planning, I was able to craft a countermeasure of my own design. We knew Thatch was aiming for the capital, but because of the large number of officers present, he’d have to wait until our defenses were weakened before he’d be able to act. So, our first order of business was finding a way of getting a large sum of our strongest magic users outside the capital. Luckily for us, good old Lieutenant General Cole volunteered to do so.”

“B...But, if this was your plan, why were you so adamant about keeping the combat mages and soldiers posted inside of the city?”

“To strengthen his incentive to discredit my worth. In case you haven’t noticed, Cole isn’t exactly a fan of mine. If he realized what he wanted was the opposite of what I wanted, then it’d double his desire to see to it his campaign was successful. I mean, he's already set a world record as to how fast someone can travel halfway across the country. And with him out of the picture, there won't be anyone to complicate the strategy.” A devilish grin appeared on James’ face. “Turns out challenging that pig’s ego was all I had to do. Who knew? Now everything’s going exactly to how I planned it!”

“You seriously give me the creeps sometimes, sir,” Striker shuddered.

“As I predicted, Thatch took the bait and came out of hiding. Currently, we’re on our way to rendezvous with Leones and a couple of his buddies from his military branch. Meanwhile, a second squad led by Leland is on standby near another of Thatch’s secret bases. Surprise, surprise, he established one within Savannis’ perimeter. To keep an eye on where High Command was sending its mages, no doubt. Once I give the order, we’ll perform a simultaneous ambush, capturing Thatch and his followers in one fell swoop,” the major informed, grasping a handful of air inside his fist. “What do you think? How’s that for a backup plan?”

Sabine exhaled. “You never cease to amaze me, sir. But, I have to wonder, why didn’t you tell me any of this? I am your second in command, aren’t I? You even told Striker, of all people.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?!” the soldier growled defensively.

“Don’t dwell on it too much, Zen. I just didn’t want to run the risk of our operation being exposed again. It’s also why I sent you to the archives, out of sight and out of mind. Nothing personal, but you aren’t the best when it comes to safeguarding secrets.”

The words on the tip of her tongue were restrained, a reaction James hadn’t anticipated. Instead of pummeling him or cursing his name or delivering a blow onto his cranium, Sabine simply nodded her head in acceptance. “Maybe I’m not,” she responded dryly. “If you deemed it necessary to keep me in the dark for the sake of our objective, then I won’t question it further. I can only aspire to gain more of your trust in the future.”

“Oh, quit being so dramatic. Out of everyone here, there’s nobody I trust more than you.” For a split second, James identified the crack in her mask. Crimson cheeks and watery eyes were short-lived, quickly replaced by another of the mage’s ice-cold expressions. For her sake, he pretended not to notice. “Nightingale, full speed ahead!” he ordered. “We don’t want to keep our guest of honor waiting.”

“Roger, sir,” replied Hazel, flooring the gas pedal.