B2 Chapter 26: Brimstones reunite

Highlady Solastra Flora, the Kindly Gardener, was one of the most powerful elves that walked Elucidor. The Dreadwood was the garden that she tended to, a vast and immutable beast.

For her to make a heartfelt plea to a trio of Fearshapers in Trepidation…

Shiver did not know what to make of it.

Why… why is she asking us to kill Vetrian? Why can’t she do it herself if she’s so concerned?

No doubt that was the single question ringing in her friends heads.

As if in response to the silent question, Solastra responded.

“I cannot leave the Dreadwood. All I can do, is to nurture you in your descent, such that you will be the blade that ends him.”

They saw unfiltered rage in the Highlady’s eyes, that glowed bright yellow. A rare break in her composure – or perhaps even that was manufactured to endear them to her.

“For breaking our accord, when we were so close to success.”

Shiver narrowed her eyes.

A Fearshaper as powerful as her being limited to her Dreadwood? I don’t buy it.

She let out a long sigh. A jarring sign of her mortality, for it was so easy to forget that the woman before them was a mere elf, like them, despite her status as a Fearshaper that revelled in Serenity – for it was impossible to think that she languished in any other lesser stage of Fear.

“I think you’ve heard enough from this jaded, old woman. You must be eager to reunite with your loved ones.”

Solastra smiled.

“You are free to roam Castle Flora at your convenience. Should you wish to descend further, I will illuminate you as to the remainder of your journey through Trepidation, over dinner. I would not force you to descend. If I did so, your fall to Insanity would be as good as sealed. Your resolve alone, can hold Insanity at bay, remember that.”

Her eyes flashed in mischief, meeting Vale’s eyes.

“But if any of you believed that you had reached the end of your descent through the second realm of Fear, I’m afraid you were sorely mistaken. Not that you could be blamed for it, of course.”

They watched incredulously, as the body of the Highlady began to unravel.

Tanned flesh and dark strips of muscle dripped from her body, revealing yellowed bone beneath. They watched as the teeth of the Highlady began to darken to an earthy brown and fall from her gums. A crack split Solastra’s left eye, and they watched as a flower bloomed, emerging from her iris.

Caledon recoiled, summoning his Phobia unconsciously, as had his companions.

They watched as sunlight filtered through the Dawntree’s canopy, alighting on her flesh.

The body of the Highlady was composed of a writhing mass of roots, vines and detritus you might expect to find on the forest floor. As if her being was composed entirely from vegetation. Eventually, it fell into a heap on the floor of her court, the plant matter gently dispersed by wind that filtered into the area.

While Caledon and Vale had looked on in horror, unable to wrench away their gaze, Shiver grinned at the Highlady’s dramatic departure – no doubt designed to inspire fear, revulsion and awe in them. The sight reminded her of the Terrors she had glimpsed in the Archcity of Fear.  

Then, her expression darkened at the thought of her upcoming conversation with Marta and Pov. Explaining her decision to forsake them for Icey’s sake.

Sometimes, the mundane was far more terrifying than even the heights of Fearshaping.

---

The familiar sound of swords clashing washed over Caledon as he entered the castle’s training yard. He closed his eyes, taking in the warm scent of flowers that lined the stone walls and the ring of steel so familiar to him

The yard, much like the rest of Flora’s castle, was cast from dark beige stone. Grey flowers bloomed from vines that extended over cracked stone walls that encased the courtyard. Tall trees with orange leaves that reminded him of Brimstone’s autumntrees where sparsely interspersed throughout the area, offering a degree of shade.

Caledon watched as his sister, Viveria Brimstone, lunged forwards a familiar sword in her hands. His eyes widened as he watched his sister spear the target dummy. With a flick of her finger, she sent a burst of flame through the hilt of the sword. The holes across the surface of the blade glowed red with heat, before the flame rushed outwards, eviscerating the dummy from within.

Caledon’s eyes widened at the sight.

She’s awakened. She’s a Fearshaper too. The Highlady must have given her a voidseed.

It was clear that she had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot, hollow, and focused on the task before her. From her form, Caledon could tell that she had lost herself in practice since he had last seen her.

She sheathed the sword that Caledon had designed for her, likely finalised in darksteel by Sakar’s own hand.

He watched as she called her Phobia into existence in a burst of flame, an elegant rapier with a thin blade that glowed orange in heat.

[Stinger of the Fireash Bee]

Caledon watched as Viveria unleashed a flurry of quick strikes, faster than his eyes could follow. In the course of a second, Caledon watched as the second dummy was pockmarked with a dozen glowing entry wounds.

Caledon watched as Viveria gritted her teeth at raised an arm to dash away sweat and tears.

The same as always.

It was what she did, when she was plagued by her worries. Beating them out of existence.

“Vivy.”

Her gaze snapped around, and her face paled as her gaze met his. She stared at him in disbelief, struggling to register what her eyes perceived.

“C-Cally.”

She lunged forwards, wrapping her brother in a hug. Caledon felt his sister trembling in their embrace. The gentle sound of shifting leaves washed over them, but it offered the siblings no solace.

Then, Caledon watched as his sister removed her face from his shoulder, and glanced tentatively to each side.

Oh. Oh no.

Her face fell, and her hands tightened around him.

It was only natural that she had held out hope.

If there was anything they had been assured by, it was Berevan’s resilience. He had drilled it into them, that they had nothing to Fear any time they sparred with him. Injuries would melt away with the simple call of his Fear.

Part of her had expected it to be a farce, and she couldn’t be blamed. Their father had so often played pranks on them, followed quickly by his raucous laughter, taking delight in the terror he had instilled so lovingly in them. A side to the imposing Highlord that only his family had known.

Caledon closed his eyes, as he felt Viveria’s sobs.

“Cally… He really is-“

His wordlessly tightened his grip around her.

---

Caledon and Viveria strode through the Highlady Solastra’s private gardens.

They were not what he expected.

Caledon had little doubt that the depths of Highlady Solastra’s Fear were far beyond his comprehension. The image of her most casual feats still lingered with him. The way her flesh and blood unraveled into root and sap before his very eyes. The casual halting of the sway of leaves in the Dawntree towering above them and the vast Dreadwood that surrounded them, as far as the eye could see.

If anyone were to have asked him how the Kindly Gardener arranged her personal gardens, he would have guessed differently. Perhaps he would have envisioned them as a microcosm of the vast Dreadwood that was her true garden. It was what he would have done in her shoes.

Instead, the garden in which they strode was dominated by a single type of flower.

A black rose, outlined in gold. The very same flowers that adorned her court.

In the distance, was a strange structure. It resembled a mansion. He could see elves reveling within, bringing a tantalising golden liquid to their lips that leaked from the corners of their lips in their enthusiasm. The very same liquid that Solastra had conjured in her display.

Tranquillity.

“How did it happen, Cally?”

Caledon started, his attention drawn to his sister. The silence drew out between them as they walked, the sounds of the revelry in the distance barely reaching their ears.

“Did Solastra tell you? About the Rampage?”

Viveria nodded wordlessly, her eyes lingering idly on the black roses around them.

“She did.”

“I met our grandfather, Valeric Brimstone.”

Her eyes widened.

“Truly? I thought gramps died in the Rampage? Oh.”

The truth registered to her. As strong of a Fearshaper as he was yet another victim in their ploy. Subjected to the control of the Highlord of Dreams. Saravagan Dreamer.

“I met him when I was in the Archcity of Fear. Grandfather said that he hadn’t been possessed of his own will – at least before I snapped him out of it.”

Viveria’s eyes widened.

“He told me that he remembered being sent to Brimstone to punish our father. Yet the punisher didn’t confront father with the intent to kill him.”

Caledon sighed.

“Viv… they fought. Saravagan didn’t intend to kill him, but father was injured and exhausted from their fight. Which was when Vetrian Revenant sent his son to finish the job. Triol Revenant.”

Viveria continued to stare blankly ahead.

The sight of it scared him. His sister, so easily brought to anger, did not react to his words.

“I didn’t think it possible. We encountered Triol in the Archcity of Fear. He was a newly awakened Fearshaper, supposedly in the realm of Trepidation. But…”

The sight of Triol’s twisted body had been carved into his mind. The sight of his limbs elongated in a way that defied the natural order of things. The black substance that leaked from his eyes and mouth, intermingled with his blood.

The way that Caledon’s Phobia had torn across his throat.

“Something had twisted him, making him stronger. His guide, which used to be a small eel, grew to be a serpent that filled the entirety of our Manor.”

“And?”

Caledon saw the slightest hint of rage enter his sister’s eyes. It brought him relief.

“I killed him.”

Viveria nodded.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a familiar figure. He watched as Vale’s eyes widened at the periphery of the garden. Viveria’s eyes narrowed, catching his involuntary grimace. As she followed her gaze, they settled on the girl.

And the black skeleton that trailed behind her. Viveria frowned.

“That’s… Vale Revenant. Triol’s sister.”

Caledon sighed, as he felt his sister’s hand encircle his forearm, her nails digging into his skin.

“Then why is that bitch here? Undead?”

“Vale… wants to kill her father. That skeleton behind her… it’s Triol.”

Caledon watched as his sister was at a loss for words. If anyone could empathise, it was him. His own feelings towards Vale were convoluted. Throughout the journey to the Dreadwood, her guilt for his father’s loss had been plain to see.

Vale had told him about her own mother, used as a tool for Vetrian to trigger Vale and her sibling’s Fear of death. During their time in Anhedonia, she had been the closest thing to a friend to him, even as he faced the brunt of Shiver’s ire.

He knew, that Vale wasn’t to blame for their father’s death.

Yet… in spite of the logic and rationality he so prided himself with, his view of her had changed.

As he watched Viveria, he saw a reflection of himself. Twisted by hate born from the depths of their love for their father.

Then, he saw Viveria’s eyes flash with rage. She summoned her Phobia, the blade of her rapier gleaming with the orange glow of heat.

 “No you don’t!”

Caledon gaped as a bee appeared out of thin air, and jabbed its glowing stinger right into Viveria’s shoulder. Then he watched astounded, as – against all odds – his sister yelped, subdued.

She looked bashful.

“What have I told you about active listening, Lady Brimstone?”

Viveria exchanged an uncertain look with her brother. Caledon silently raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“More relevantly, what have I told you about courtesy, young lady? Introductions must be made!”

“Ahem. Caledon, meet my guide – Vibris.”

Caledon stared at the small fireash bee that hovered before them. The very picture of the ones that he had encountered in the forest.

As well as the one he had stepped on.

He paled and pushed the image out of his mind. Then he froze in horror, as he realised his sister must have done the same to acquire the invocation she had called upon.

Caledon cleared his throat.

“Nice to meet you… Vibris. Thank you for putting up with my sister.”

Caledon nudged his sister, but his face fell when he saw her gaze locked onto Vale’s retreating back, who was rapidly retreating with her revenants in tow.

“The pleasure is mine, Caledon. Forgive the interruption, if you would allow me a brief word.”

Viveria’s guide zipped before her, the volume of her voice falling. Laden with her care for her charge.

“I will not see you consumed by revenge.”

“But-“

“No. You are a fine young lady. Your greatest failing being your lack of refinement, perhaps your impulsivity being a close second. I will not see you end up dead, with so much to offer. If I hear any talk of revenge, Viveria Brimstone, this will be the end of our bond.”

Caledon stared at Vibris, struck speechless.

“Good day, Caledon.”

“A-ahem. Good day to you too, Vibris.”

Caledon and Viveria watched wordlessly as the fireash bee disappeared in a haze of flames. Caledon stuttered, still processing what he had witnessed.

“She’s just like… mother.”

Viveria sheepishly scratched at the back of her neck.

“Yours any better?”

Caledon gulped, and tried to wordlessly confer his opinion of his guide to his sister with the slightest shake of his head.

“I’m an eyeball, dunce. Did you think I didn’t see that?”

“That’s Zel.”

Although his voice reached them, his guide did not dignify them with his presence. He turned back towards his sister.

“Viv.”

His sister turned to face him.

“Give Vale a chance. She’s a good person. I’m… trying myself. As for father…”

Caledon’s eyes hardened.

“I’ve seen one friend go down the path of revenge. She almost – no – she did lose herself to it.”

“Shiver.”

Caledon regarded her with surprise.

“I met her, when the Highlady first brought her here. I still remember…”

Caledon watched as his sister shivered, recalling their brief encounter. He continued.

“She put everything on the line for it. I watched how she became a shell of a person, consumed by her revenge. Father… he wouldn’t have wanted that for us.”

He watched as the heat returned to his sister’s eyes.

“Then you expect us to sit by and let the Deathbringer get away with it-“

“No.”

Caledon manifested his Phobia, and his sister’s eyes passed over the dark black metal of the torch. Golden flames licked from its centre. They blazed forth, growing outwards.

He had puzzled over his Phobia as he had roamed the Dreadwood. Wondering how he had achieved what he had, in the moment that he killed Triol.

He finally understood, with the insight Zel had offered him, in the forest of shadow and silence.

The golden flames they solidified, into a blade of gold.

Hardened by his wrath.

“Attacking him mindlessly will bring nothing but the danger of more death. To us, and to Brimstone. I’ll speak to Highlady Solastra. She lost an important ally, and I’ll convince her to help us. Viv. She intends to hold Vetrian Reveanant to account, already.”

His Phobia disappeared in a haze of golden embers.

“We won’t let father’s death be in vain. But you can’t lose yourself to your anger. Besides, Vetrian isn’t the only one responsible for father’s death.”

Viveria sighed, but eventually relented. Caledon could only hope her guide would keep her in check. The thought of the fireash bee brought back a question that lingered at the tip of his tongue.

“Viveria… I need to ask you about mother.”

“Hmm? About how she is? She’s gotten more… subdued after father’s death. More quiet. Silas told me that the Highlady is treating her.”

Caledon frowned.

I need to speak to Silas about her.

Then he shook his head.

“No… Do you recall mother being… different, when we were younger?”

Caledon had been about twelve at the time of the inception of his Fear. Viveria would have been nine years old at the time.

“She was… more stern with us. Then… she stopped. And she started getting… angrier, even with father. Yet she also yearned for his attention.”  

“Didn’t you find that strange?”

Viveria shrugged.

“I always chalked it up to the stress of being a Highlady. Maybe it even had to do with our changing perceptions of her, as we grew up. She was no longer our mother and protector who could do no harm, she was an elf, just like us. I thought it was part and puzzle of growing up. Why?”

“Viv… she triggered my Fear.”

Viveria frowned.

“Of comfort? That’s strange?”

“That’s just it Viv… that isn’t my Fear.”

His eyes glinted.

“I have a Fear of corruption.”

Viveria stood stock still, tense at his words.

“During acknowledgement, when we revisit the trigger of our Fears… I figured out when it happened. It was when mother returned from Somnolence.”

“The Archcity of Dreams… You don’t think… was mother…?”

Caledon nodded.

“That’s my suspicion. That the Highlord of Dreams stole her will from her. I suspect he did so as a means to control father.”

Viveria’s breaths became shallow, panic entered her eyes.

“All this time… could a stranger have been…”

Caledon nodded, the inception of his Fear laid bare once more.

“I’ve informed Silas. Even though mother has become more… subdued, we need to be careful.”

He felt a pang of regret at the look of hurt that crossed his sister’s face.

Their father, killed, and their mother rendered a stranger.

Perhaps worse.

“The Highlady may have answers. And if she doesn’t…”

Caledon turned to gaze at the eyeball that flew silently on leathery wings beside him. His guide Zel, watching on wordlessly.

“Then I’ll have a word with the Highlord of Dreams myself.”