RE: Monarch
Chapter 48: Enclave XVIII

I thought about sneaking back in the house through the window, but what was the point?

Kilvius eyed me as I walked through the front door. “He returns.”

“And here I thought I’d have to explain to the council how our family lost the single most important guest to grace our presence in the last ten years.” Nethtari clucked her tongue.

Emotion burned in my chest. I wanted to joke with them. Act like nothing was wrong. Put this conversation off for just one more day. But I kept seeing the bodies, strewn across the floor.

There is always something more you could have done.

I rallied against my father’s words. He was wrong. The first time had not been my fault. Perhaps I could have been more vigilant, but my efforts would have been so unfocused and anemic they likely would have led to the same outcome.

No. The first time was not my fault. But every time after would be. The responsibility of it all rested on my head, and mine alone.

My fist clenched and I looked down at the floor.

Kilvius’s empty eyes stared up at me, confused, hurt. He reached for his wife’s cold body.

I fought back a sob.

Nethtari closed the cupboard she had opened with a slow creak. She approached me slowly, tugging on Kilvius’s sleeve. “Cairn. What’s wrong?”

Slowly, the knuckles of my hand creaking, I unclenched my fist.

“I had a vision.”

Over the next hour, I slowly walked them through the details of what had happened. It was tedious and painful, like treading on broken glass. On an almost fundamental level, it went against everything I was trying to accomplish in that household. I didn’t want to bother these people. I wanted them to be safe, be happy. They didn’t take me seriously at first. Kilvius’s face was animated, visibly reacting to every new piece of information. Nethtari’s expression, however, grew colder and colder.

It wasn’t hard to recite specific details. I saw much of it every time I closed my eyes. When I came to the details of what had happened when I arrived at this house, those details grew more fuzzy.

And Nethtari picked up on it immediately.

“And what direction did you approach the house from?” Nethtari asked, her voice clipped.

“The front.”

“So you approach from the front. Someone exits. The auric sun is red, signifying a state of emergency—not disabled, so there should be plenty of light. In the short time between when you saw them and ducked down, you didn’t see their face?”

“No.” I said.

“So some infernal just slaughtered my family and walked out of the house.”

“Hard to say if it was an infernal or not.”

Nethtari’s eyebrow shot up. “That’s a strange point to make, seeing as how we make up the vast majority of the population within the enclave.”

“Nethtari—“ Kilvius started, but she held up a hand to silence him.

“Cairn, I’ve been a solicitor for nearly twenty years. Long enough to know when someone is lying to me.” Nethtari said. It was very close to the tone I’d heard her use with Guemon at my hearing.

“Everything I’ve told you is true.”

“—I have also done this long enough to know that there’s more than one type of lie. A lie by omission, for instance.”

“It will muddy the waters.” I gripped the lip of my chair, my knuckles turning white.

“How could the identity of the person who killed my children be anything but productive?”

Kilvius looked between us, sensing the tension. “What Nethtari is trying to say, is—“

“I’m not trying to say anything, Kilvius.” Nethtari said quietly. “I’m saying it. Cairn is withholding information, despite the seriousness of the situation. I would very much like to know what that information is.

She was right, of course. What I was doing made no rational sense. The fact that there was someone out there impersonating me was vital information. But on the other hand, I knew how it would sound. There was a chance they’d shut me out completely. Kilvius and Nethtari began to argue, with Kilvius accusing her of being too forceful.

“He looked like me.” I whispered.

The argument stopped and they both turned to look at me.

“No. He didn’t just look like me. His eyes. His hair. Everything was the same. It was like looking in a damn mirror. But I swear to Elphion it wasn’t me. I would never do what he did, could never, that’s the last thing I’d want to happen.”

“These visions. My daughter spoke of them. They’re limited in scope yes?” Nethtari asked gently. “Always from your perspective?”

“Yes.” I said. “I see through the eyes of my future self. And the future is never set in stone.”

Nethtari’s face was troubled. “I can see why you didn’t want to tell us this.”

“Yeah,” I said bitterly. “Doesn’t exactly paint me in the best light.”

“I think it’s pretty clear that Cairn would never hurt us intentionally.” Kilvius put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. His response surprised me.

“Yes, but where does that leave us?” Nethtari propped her fist beneath her chin, her focus slipping away from me. “The simulacrum spell is the stuff of legends and fables. There’s never been a record of a single magician with the ability to create a living being from scratch. That limits our options to a living, walking illusion that can still somehow interact with its environment.”

“Could be an anchored illusion. Just changing the exterior appearance. Would be a lot cheaper than either of those two options, assuming a simulacrum spell even exists,” Kilvius added.

I looked between them, suddenly so relieved it felt like I might collapse. “You’re not… bothered by this?”

Nethtari shook her head. “Of course we’re bothered, Cairn. You’re talking about an imminent disaster. The sort of thing that could be the end of my family and my people. But panicking does nothing. Especially now.”

“But, the person with my face—“

“We’re not simpletons. We’d know by now if you were a monster.” Kilvius said. “It’s hard to hide that sort of thing for so long.”

His simple faith shook me.

“And I think you’ve already drawn the correct conclusion.” Nethtari’s expression was hard. “Someone’s trying to frame you. What better way to assassinate your character than to take extra effort to kill the people who have established themselves as your allies? You never saw Ralakos, in this vision?”

I was stunned by her pragmatism. “No.”

“It’s safe to say he was on that list as well. Probably died shortly after we did, or before. He’s one of the most powerful infernals in the enclave, so the thought of him being overwhelmed would seem ridiculous in normal circumstances, but with the scale of what you’re describing…” Nethtari trailed off.

“That’s something that’s been bothering me,” I cut in. “Maya mentioned that demons turning on infernals is incredibly rare, and carries massive consequences. What could possibly convince an entire legion to take such large risks?”

“Backing from someone high in the sphere of influence, maybe.” Kilvius’s face was grim. There were a series of footsteps from upstairs and Jorra began to descend.

“Jorra,” Nethtari warned, “Go check on Agarin. We’re having a serious conversation.”

“What kind of serious conversation?” Jorra stopped halfway down the stairs, then seemed to take in the atmosphere of the room. Without a word, he turned around and headed back up, giving me a curious look over his shoulder.

Nethtari looked disturbed. “Kilvius is partially correct. Violent as the asmodials are, it would take someone with significant pull to get them to even consider such an action. But that’s only part of it.”

“The binding?” Kilvius asked.

“It’s got to be.” Nethtari let out a deep sigh. “The only reason I can see the asmodials agreeing to something like this would be if the person in question—Guemon, most likely—agreed to a binding.”

“But why would he bind an asmodial?” I asked.

“You misunderstand. He wouldn’t. For something of this scale, causing this level of upheaval, he would have to bind himself to them.Most likely to an arch-fiend.” Nethtari looked sick.

Kilvius reacted uncomfortably to that, leaning back in his chair.

“What exactly does that mean?” I asked.

“It’s the most short-sighted thing an infernal can do.” Kilvius shook his head. “When an infernal dies, they go to hades. The best of us are only there for a few moments before they are reincarnated, placed in another body to start anew. Evil folk, truly evil, can spend centuries there. But even they, eventually, are sent back. But the demonic legions do not have any such process. They exist primarily in hades, where they fight for territory and dominance. It’s a never-ending struggle.

“If a person binds themselves to a demon, they are committing themselves to an eternity of pointless struggle, a soldier in the armies of the legions.” Nethtari chewed her lip, her expression distasteful.

It was interesting how parallel their beliefs were to the elven religious beliefs around the afterlife. Only, unlike the elves, the infernals didn’t have any chance of achieving nothingness. Their goal was to live decent lives to minimize the time their souls spent in the after-life.

It wasn’t so unlike the human myths of Valhalla, only humans seemed to take the idea of a never-ending battle as a positive thing, an honor reserved for those of the highest regard. A year ago, I dreamed of Valhalla. Mornings of “glorious battle” alongside the demigods, garnished with banquets and evenings lounging with Lillian within the Elysium halls.

But that was before I had tasted what a fighting really was. That had changed things.

The main difference between Hades and Valhalla seemed to be that the infernals did not pretend it was anything other than what it was. Eternal anguish and bloodshed. Given the choice, I’d happily take the Elysium halls over Valhalla.

“Why would Guemon do something so rash for such a short-term gain?” I asked. “For that matter, why attack his people so brutally? There are easier ways to frame me, if that’s what he’s looking to do.”

“Motive aside, we have bigger problems.” Nethtari stood, glancing out the window. “Members of the high council are subjected to scrutiny, mainly to prevent exactly this sort of thing to scrutiny. There are wards in place to establish whether an infernal has sold their soul. There are also defenses that are meant to trigger in the event of an uprising. All members of the high council can activate them through magical means, as well as the council itself should it reach a majority.”

“But that didn’t happen. So, you’re saying, for the vision to come to pass…” I mused.

“All members of the high council, save Guemon, would need to be dead. But the upside is, that means the binding has not yet taken place. The attack on the enclave is not yet set in stone.” Nethtari smiled grimly. “But this is too big of a problem for us, Cairn. We need to bring in Ralakos.”

I hesitated. “But, the leak—“

“I know.” Nethtari said. “I think I can impress upon him the need for discretion. He’s a bit of a skeptic, so it’s likely better to keep the foresight business to yourself.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “If Maya was not so utterly convinced of it, I likely would not believe it either. But there are too many details to your story, things you’d have no way of knowing. We’ll cook up some sort of story for him. I’ll need to think on that. If possible, we need to locate an asmodial outside the purview of the masters.”

I nodded. “Already working on that last order of business. I started building up an information network last night, it’s small, but growing. And I made a contact in the thulian district that who may prove helpful. Gold is going to be an issue eventually, but I have some ideas on how to remedy that.”

They both slowly turned to look at me.

“Cairn, when, exactly, did you have the vision?” Kilvius asked.

“Uh. Yesterday. A little after we left Maya at the lift.”

“Well, he doesn’t waste any time.” Kilvius laughed.

“He should have said something.” Nethtari eyed me judgmentally. “Who’s this contact you made, while prowling the thulian district like a misguided youth?”

I shifted uncomfortably at the memory. “Her name is Persephone.”

The atmosphere in the room immediately grew cold. Nethtari looked at Kilvius. Kilvius looked down at the table idly, drawing patterns into it with his fingers.

“Did you?” Nethtari started.

“Nope,” Kilvius said.

“Are you certain?

“Haven’t said a word about her, haven’t thought about her in years.”

“So of all the dive bars in the district, he just happened to stumble into hers?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Ni’lend.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m uh, sensing a bit of history here.”

Kilvius tried to make eye-contact with Nethtari, but she looked away towards the papered wall. He sighed. “Once upon a time, I lived a very different life. Persephone was part of it. Then I married Nethtari. And I now have three beautiful children. The end.”

I’m sure I could have filled volumes with the quantity of story Kilvius was leaving out, but decided it was better not to press my luck, at least not with Nethtari present.

We briefly covered what the next steps would be. Nethtari would bring Ralakos into our little conspiracy. Ephira was best avoided for now, until we had a better idea of where she stood. Nethtari thought she would likely come down on our side eventually, wholesale slaughter being universally bad for business. Guemon and his men were to be avoided at all costs. I’d continue working the angle with Persephone to try and get a line on the asmodials—despite Nethtari’s protests. And Kilvius would get me in touch with some of his old contacts, though I was still a little gray on what exactly that meant.

“Any other bombs to drop, Cairn? Before breakfast turns into lunch?” Nethtari asked dryly.

Now that she mentioned it, there was one last thing.

“Oh. I also had my second awakening.”

The tension broke. Nethtari threw her hands up and walked away, while Kilvius laughed.