RE: Monarch
Chapter 143: Pyrrhic XIII

Sweat dripped down my forehead, burning as it made contact with the last vestiges of seared skin. I’d told Kymar to stop, for now, and asked Ralakos to not inform me of the time until we reached the hour-before deadline.

I needed to remove any possible distractions if I wanted to succeed.

For the third time, I pressed my hand against the control crystal, forcing the spark through it. Veldani’s voice guided me, keeping me grounded.

“Remember, this is not a race. Be calm and keep your mind steady. You cannot see the obstacles within, and you cannot afford to learn them through trial and error.”

I tried to listen. But I was growing frustrated with the cryptic nature of her advice.

Once again, the spark winked out. “If I can’t brute force it or remove the panel to direct it carefully, and I can’t learn through repetition, what, exactly, is left for me to do?”

“Your impatience is your greatest weakness, my student. As is your proclivity for control. Reject them. It is the only way.”

I glanced over to ensure Veldani wasn’t drifting off again. She was still leaning heavily against the left leg of the gate, but her eyes were sharp and attentive.

“How?”

“Picture the result you desire. Then loosen your grip. Allow your subconscious to take over.”

I tried again, forcing another spark through the control crystal. Progress was far slower when I wasn’t actively managing it, and it snuffed out when my focus lapsed.

“It’s not working.”

Veldani was quiet. She did this often, when she gave me a difficult task. Withdrew guidance after she felt she’d given me enough to muddle through on my own. It was a different tactic than any of my previous teacher’s had taken. At times, I appreciated the method.

But this wasn’t training. The stakes were too high. And this was a rare situation that wouldn’t necessarily be fixed with a reset.

If it set me far back enough, maybe. However, that was uncommon. The Black Beast had an unspoken tendency to place me either directly before a catalyzing event, or at a transitional point. The situation with my father had been resolved bloodlessly for the moment, an ideal outcome whenever the man was involved. The most likely place I’d be sent back to would be either my return to the Sanctum after the reunion, or at some point during our efforts to repair the gate.

I could use some of my foreknowledge to save us a marginal amount of time, but there was no silver arrow, nothing drastic I could manage to sway the tide. And if Veldani didn’t come to her senses at the same time, there was a not insignificant chance the potion would kill me, forcing repeated resets to return to this point.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ralakos pull his watch from his pocket, then replace it.

Enough.

I took a deep breath and let my anxiety, my worries over Maya, and the hideous weight of the deadline forced on me in the back of my head, slowly fade away.

The spark came to life, I pushed it through. Following Veldani’s counsel, I willed the spark upward, keeping my direction vague and unspecific.

The increase in power from the potion was significant enough that I had to marvel at the difference. Before, the third stage spark was fragile. Now, it took concentrated effort to stop it from expanding.

The spark stopped, but did not extinguish. I bit down on a whoop of triumph. “It’s there.”

Titus pumped a fist. “Well done, lad. Straight line, through about three inches of metal, and we’ll have a primitive pathway. Just don’t let it spread, and take care to keep it from flying off once you’re finally through.

While it sounded simple in theory, it required thinking about the flame in an entirely different manner and overriding years of conditioning.

I focused on the temperature and felt it grow hotter. Still, the progress was painstakingly slow. I imagined the metal growing red, a hole forming as the tiny spark carved through.

The world fell away, as it had so long ago in the Everwood. There was only the spark.

And the spark carved through.

I released the magic, before the fire could damage any of the internal components.

“It’s done.”

My heart raced, as Titus reached towards the ignition switch.

There was an audible click, and something happened.

No.

We were so close.

Ralakos replaced his watch in his pocket, rubbing his forehead wearily. There was a deep sadness in his face. “There’s still time. But I suspect using it here would be folly. You did your best, my friend.”

Had I? Was this really the best I could manage?

“There will be other opportunities.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Veldani. The teacher I failed.

“Cursed ancestors.” Titus gave the dimension gate a woeful glare. Then he reached down, and flicked the ignition switch repeatedly.

My mind drifted as Titus fiddled with the panel, and Ralakos directed Kymar to attend to my remaining wounds.

With all the potential points of failure, resetting could easily put me in a worse position than I started in. But letting this pass by didn’t feel right, either.

“A noble effort. Most mages I know would have crumbled long before the finish line.” Kymar frowned. He was trying to console me, but he couldn’t quite mask his disappointment.

None of them could.

There was a clang as Titus banged his forehead against the gate. “Master engineers, my ass.” He growled, mocking his ancestors in a singsong voice, “‘No, no, Our designs are perfect. Aesthetic trumps practical design, since they’ll never break down. What’s that? Obsolescence? Can we eat it?’ Lazy… feckin… gobshites!”

Titus slammed a meaty fist into the ignition switch. And promptly fell on his ass as the dimension gate filled the room with a high-pitched whine.

A violet membrane extended down from the top of the gate to the bottom, filling in the empty space.

For a moment, no one said anything.

Then the room exploded in cheers.

I broke from Ralakos and grabbed Titus beneath his arms, lifting him clear off the ground. “You magnificent bastard!”

Titus turned bright red and let out a guffaw. “Credit where credit’s due. You put in the work and cleared the pathway. I just got primitive with the igniter.”

Tears streamed down Ralakos’s cheeks. “I… never thought I’d live to see this day.”

“Elphion take me.” I stared at the gate, still not quite believing what I was seeing. “Is that it? It’ll keep running?”

“Like a dream.” Titus confirmed, grinning wildly. “These ancient builds are all the same. A bear to get running, but once ye grease the gears it’ll putter on until the sun burns out. So long as someone tops off the supply every few decades.”

“You were right, Veldani. It was simple once I—“ The words died in my throat. My teacher’s expression was vacant. She gazed down at the stone floor with unblinking eyes, a peaceful smile on her pale lips.

The room grew quiet once more.

“Veldani?” I crouched down in front of her and waved a hand in front of her face. When I pressed my fingers to her neck, she slumped over, and I caught her and carefully lowered her to the ground.

“She’s been gone for a while.” Ralakos said quietly.

“Did she—“ my voice caught in my throat. “Did she see the gate open?”

“Perhaps.” Ralakos looked away. “In the end, Veldani spent her last moments teaching. She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

I reached down and brushed a stray hair from Veldani’s forehead. It came off in my hands. I grimaced at the indignity of it. “This is all thanks to you. Your dedication. Your faith. I never had a chance to repay you—”

There was a sudden surge in the dimension gate’s whine. A red infernal stepped through the gate. He looked vaguely nomadic from the stitched together clothes, and wore the expression of a man who had wandered into a dream. “Where… am I?”

Ralakos took the man by the arm and pulled him into an embrace. “Home.”

They filed in, one after another, making their way through the gate, staring at their surroundings.

There were so many of them.

Eventually, the room became crowded, and Ralakos began directing them outside, where the waiting crowd chattered in anticipation.

Every single emotion imaginable was on display. Grief at the time long-lost. Excitement, as fathers and mothers returned to their now-grown children. Exhaustion, at a wound decades old, finally began to heal.

The newcomers glanced at me from time to time, curious, but not hostile.

Ralakos leaned into me, giving me a gentle bump. “You did exactly what you promised.”

I shook my head. “It hasn’t really hit me yet.”

“With a few detours along the way. Stopping a demonic uprising, fighting an arch-mage—“

“—Dying and coming back to life.”

“—Capping it all off by uniting countless families.” Ralakos smiled. “I’d say you’ve earned a vacation.”

I snorted. “I’m going home, next. This was the vacation.”

Ralakos laughed heartily, pulling me into a half-hug.

“You’ll want to get some of the more… archaic restrictions… removed when you get back to Whitefall. Before your coronation, preferably. I imagine there’ll be no small infernal attendance. You’ve earned our unwavering support.” His eyes twinkled. “I should commission a statue.”

“Please don’t.” I snorted. “I look terrible as a statue.”

Ralakos laughed again. When I didn’t join him, he sighed. “I know what it’s like to lose a teacher.” He glanced at the pocket watch. “There is something you can do for her. Something that hasn’t been done in quite some time. Ralakos leaned close and whispered in my ear.

***

Titus and Kymar brought Veldani out on the stretcher that was meant for me, should the worst come to pass.

I stood at the peak of the council steps, my throat tight. Slowly, one after another, the returning infernals and the people welcoming them back fell silent.

I breathed in deeply and spoke. “I didn’t intend to make a speech. It would be a crime to politicize a moment this pure. And while I contributed, I could not have done so without the help of Ralakos and countless others. It is a time for healing, and rekindled bonds. A time to rebuild.”

I choked, waiting for the surge of emotion to dissipate. “Which is why, while it is difficult, I must ask for a favor.”

I extended a hand towards my teacher. “Many of you knew Veldani. Her students were many. She grew tired long before the dimension gate was sundered. Still, she waited. For a bearer of the flame, to return that which was stolen. In the meantime, she cared for the Elders of the Sanctum, who were too sick to care for themselves. And though I was anything but the student she expected…”

I chuckled and wiped my eyes. “She taught me regardless. Exactly what I needed to help bring all of you back to your families today. And when I needed her most, she left the Sanctum to bring you home.”

A murmur of understanding rippled through the crowd.

“I wish to honor Veldani, before my role here comes to an end. Will you lend me your aid?”

For a moment, no one moved. Then four men—one in traditional garb, three in the stitched together wear that marked nomadic newcomers—ascended the stairs, each taking one arm of the stretcher from Titus and Kymar.

Directed by Ralakos, the crowd moved as one towards the entrance portal, Veldani held in their midst.

***

The preparations came together quickly. Both the returning infernals and residents, earth mages, and water mages working in tandem to construct a pyre.

Thousands gathered around the finished pyre as Veldani was placed atop it.

Cremation was uncommon amongst the infernals. And more still for demon-fire to be used. According to Ralakos, it was a rare accolade even before the gate was broken, and the mages with demon-fire eradicated. An honor bestowed upon heroes.

I called the spark and lit the torch in my hand. Ralakos caught my eye and held his watch up, its glass face glimmering in the sun.

That was the signal. Half an hour, and my time was up. I searched through the people surrounding the pyre frantically, looking for someone I knew to bear the torch.

“Excuse me, your grace?” A woman’s voice. I had to look down, as she only came up to my chest. Her hair was a mix of blue and gray, the beginning of crow’s feet around her reddened eyes. Now that she had my attention, she curtsied low, and I bowed in return.

“Yes?”

The infernal looked at the torch in my hand. Her lip trembled. But her voice was strong. “May I light the fire? For my Grandmother?”

“You’re Anglisse.” I realized.

Anglisse’s eyebrows shot up. “She talked about me?”

“All the time. Veldani never stopped thinking about you.” I smiled sadly. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.” I extended the butt of the torch toward her.

“And yours.” Anglisse took the torch with both hands, curtsied once more, and returned to the pyre.

My lips tightened as I spotted various familiar faces in the crowd. Ralakos was speaking with Anglisse. Guemon stood towards the back, his eyes glued to my father’s army. I spotted Agarin briefly, elevated above the crowd on Kilvius’s shoulders.

No one noticed as I secured my saddlebags and mounted a horse.

I wished to stay for the ceremony. To be honest, I wished to stay far longer. This place—both the Enclave, the Sanctum—was home in a way nowhere else ever had been.

If there was a world where Thoth never existed and my father was a reasonable ruler, and no cataclysm loomed in the distant future, I might have done just that. Abdicated and carved out a peaceful life in the Enclave as an apothecary, far away from petty political backstabbing and violence.

But, as is so often true, wistful desires do not become reality.

My father was a tyrant. Thoth, an existential threat. Ragnarök was inevitable.

And a peaceful life was never my purpose.