Chapter 531, Book 7 Epilogue

Enjoy! I'll post the first two chapters of Book 8 on Monday and Wednesday, but then my vacation starts! Enjoy your weekend, folks!


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“Run, or by the light I will skewer you myself!”

Blood and mud soiled their armor as they stumbled along, fouling cloaks until they dragged behind them like leaden weights. The man at the lead wore the insignia of a full-fledged Paladin, and his crimson armor hid all but the worst of the blood that soaked its face. Behind him trailed nearly two hundred soldiers of the light, though the Paladin hadn’t bothered to count. All that mattered was escape.

The High Guard were dead.

That string of words echoed in his Mind, relentless and repeated, until he thought he would go mad. It was impossible. When he had been dispatched from Amaranth in the company of four of their number, he had felt invincible. No foe could face down the High Guard and live. Even when their army had been met by stiff resistance by the heretics, the Paladin had been sure of their victory. The Hierocracy was as inevitable as the rising sun.

Now they fumbled through the dark, breath heavy and brows wet with sweat. None of their Stamina remained hale, and most had bare dregs upon which to draw despite their Skills with Heavy Armor and Marching. Their Health was no better, ranging from untouched to those that bore savage wounds from the vipers that had assaulted them. Quite aside from the heretics, the monsters that had broken through the sky had hunted his brethren with a ferocity he had never before seen. Now, he flinched from the craggy bark of a fallen tree, thinking for a moment that they had found them again.

Keep moving, fool, he chided himself. Trust in the Pathless’ light.

He could not shake the image of that man, covered in midnight scales, as he lifted one of the High Guard in his claws. No man. A monster. He shuddered, recalling the nightmarish maw upon the enemy’s face. A demon.

The army had broken as a strange fissure of doom settled upon them all. For a time, the Paladin’s Willpower had been affected by the terrible event, and though he knew it to be a Status Condition that did not change his decision. He fled, gathering what soldiers he could as he ran into the dark forest. A monster such as that thing would not stop with the High Guard. It would descend on them all until they were all food in his unholy belly.

I must tell them. I must warn the Hierei! The thought was the small light in his Spirit that goaded him onward, that kept him from wailing and gnashing his teeth at his fellows’ death. Good men had died that day, and the Autarch of Nagast would see retribution. Upon my power and Temper, I swear it!

Twigs snapped as a slender shape dropped from the trees above. The Paladin skid to a halt. “Brandished Sun!”

A storm of daggers erupted from the Paladin’s fist, each forged of holy light and aimed with a surety born of a thousand uses. They met the thickening shadows and flashed, scattering into the woods where they weren’t shattered outright. A woman in leather armor stepped forward, around an axe blade made of luminous ice that had interposed itself. She was small and slender, but the Paladin and all those around him froze in place as he felt the weight of her Spirit.

“That was rude,” she said. “Almost like you meant to kill me.”

“Because they did,” said another voice, this one far deeper. The incongruous axe head was lifted up into the blue-skinned hands of a Frost Giant.

“I know,” she said, and seemed…exasperated.

More giants emerged from behind the trees, at least a dozen of them, and all topping ten strides tall. The woman’s chain uncoiled, and huge serpents slithered from the shadow of the giants. Nagafolk. The thought was fear and despair rolled into one. I thought we left them behind. How did they get ahead of us?

“Try better this time,” the woman said to him, and the Paladin could not miss her wolfish grin in the moonlight. “Let me enjoy this.”

The Paladin clenched his jaw. There was but one thing to do, before fear unmanned all those behind him. “Order. Purity. Strength. We will not bow to you, heretic! We reject your path of shadow!”

The woman scrunched up her face and glanced at one of the blue-skinned monsters. “What?”

“Children of the Pathless!” he called, ignoring her question as he lifted his sword. With a flare of his stalwart Willpower, one of his holy Skills activated, transforming his blade to golden flame. “Attack!”

The remnant might of the Hierocracy surged behind him, and for a moment, golden light suffused that dark forest. It was glorious.

Until the dark consumed him.


* * *


The sound of warfare had vanished and been replaced by the triumphant cheers of the warriors on the walls. Felix had followed them, for a time, ensuring that the majority of their living opponents were captured. A few had gotten away, scattering into the night-dark forests of the Verdant Pass, but he left their return to others.

For now, Felix rested against the half-melted wall, simply breathing.

Full night had fallen on Haarwatch, and darkness would have cloaked the blasted battlefield had someone not set a seared sigil of light in the sky. A new, glaring sun, it served its purpose as Inquisitors and Paladins were shuffled into makeshift prisons. He’d made those too, forming them from the ramparts he’d pulled from the earth—they would suffice for the moment.

He adjusted his position. No matter how Tempered his Body became, he doubted he’d ever enjoy sitting on rubble. Felix swept the ground clean and plopped back down with a sigh. Pit? How’re you feeling?

Inside of him, huddled within his Spirit, Pit muttered something groggily. Sense images fluttered across their bond, of cozy mattresses and warm fires juxtaposed by searing heat and lightning-bright pain.

Just about the same, huh? Neither of them had been eager to end their Convergence due to his friend’s injuries. In his Mind’s eye, Pit’s wings were simply bloody stumps on his back, and though his Health had stabilized they were both still suffering Spirit Damage. Focus on resting. I’ll…I’ll figure something out.

Of the others, Vess and Yintarion were already within Haarwatch’s walls, getting treated for their injuries by Isla and the other healers. Felix had carried them in himself, before he’d even cared about hunting down redcloaks. Beef and Hallow had joined up with Harn and some of the Fiend’s Claws and were out there with Evie and the rest, fighting.

“Karys? You there?” he asked. His hooked sword crackled once before radiating a green-gold glow.

His chancellor’s deep, worried voice emanated from the sword. “I am, Felix. Is the battle done?”

“Yeah. It’s done.”

A sigh like wind through metal pipes echoed across the sword. “Thank the Ancestors. How did you return to Haarwatch? I could not reach you for a long time, and when I sensed your return you had already returned to the Territory.”

“A Dragon did it.”

“A Drag—This isn’t a time for jokes, Felix.”

“Life’s funny sometimes,” Felix said, his eyes roaming the battlefield. Corpses were everywhere. Friend and foe alike. An icy spike settled somewhere in his gut and would not leave. “Sometimes not so much.”

“Felix?”

Zara. He didn’t so much as turn his head, but Felix lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey there, folks. How’s it going?”

Alister, Atar, and Zara walked down the pile of slagged stone toward him, and none looked their best. Blood had stained Alister’s blue robes, turning them into a gruesome purple in the dark, while Atar’s gray hands appeared as if he’d tried to cook them. They were charred from the fingertips all the way to his palms, but were otherwise unblemished. Together with Alister, they looked like they could use a long nap.

For her part, Zara’s sea-green hair was frazzled and her black chorister’s robes torn as she let her Spirit sing with a touch of disgruntled anxiety. “Could you not have rested atop the wall, Felix?”

“I like the way the High Guard melted this portion,” he said, wiggling slightly. “Fits my back nicely.”

Zara rolled her eyes, but Atar’s red gaze all but glowed as satisfaction poured off his Spirit. “You killed them all?”

Felix inhaled before letting out a heavy breath. “Yeah. Ate them too, for good measure. Kept this though.”

He tossed something at the mage, who had to fumble with his stave and the oversized object. “What in the—You don’t just throw things at people, Felix! I should—What,” he said, realization dawning on him. “What is this?”

“One of the High Guard had a big magic book on them. It’s packed full of sigaldry.” Felix shrugged. “Figured you could make use of it.”

“I—I certainly can,” he said, opening the pages. His expectant face fell into a sour grimace. “Eventually. These are warded against those less than High Adept.”

“Oh. Makes sense why I couldn’t read it yet.” Felix reached back toward the mage. “Well, if you don’t want it—”

“No!” Atar said, clutching the book to his thin chest.

Alister smiled. “He means, ‘thank you.’”

“Yes,” Atar nodded. “That.”

“Are you…well, Felix?” Zara asked. She settled upon another rounded chunk of stone and arranged her black robes about her legs. She paused, mid-adjustment when she saw the other orichalcum weapons next to him. “Facing the High Guard alone was an unnecessary risk.”

“Everyone else was busy,” Felix said, and he didn’t even glance at the Masterwork spear and sword that held her attention. “Or hurt.”

Redcloaks were marched past, some distance away. More stragglers, dragged in chains of ice by a contingent of Frost Giants. They were taken to the crude, mass holding cell, same as the rest.

“What are we gonna do with them?” Alister asked.

burn them.

Felix raised an eyebrow as he caught Atar’s eye. The mage cleared his throat and tucked the silver-chased book beneath his arm. “Ah. Would it not be safer to…remove the threat they pose?”

“And against the Accords of Elysium, as well as any shred of decency. I would not be party to such contemptible action.” Karys said from Felix’s waist.

“Oh. You’re listening. I didn’t say you had to do it.” Atar raised his hands up, catching the look in Felix’s eye. “Fine. So we hold them. For how long?”

“Until a better option presents itself,” Zara said. She turned to Felix. “I need materials for the construction of a better barrier. Given enough time we could truly defend against the Hierocracy.”

“Then you’ll have it. Include Hector and Atar’s people. See if you can combine that Domain core barrier with this.” Still sitting, Felix pulled up a System window and tossed it to all three of them.

Mirk Enclosure - Ritual, Defensive Array, Tier IV
Effect: Encase your Territory in an impenetrable fog, invisible to your people within, but a physical and sensory barrier to all those without.
Initial Cost: 10,000 Mana/5,000 Essence
Ongoing Cost: 5,000 Mana/2,500 Essence Per 12 Hours

“Your defensive fog wall?” Atar said. “But that failed already.”

“Yeah. But it was strong enough to require a few masters to break it. We need it to be stronger by far.” Felix lifted the orichalcum sword, letting the false light of the burning sigaldry play across its glossy surface. “I want to send a message to the Hierocracy. We are not meant to be trifled with. I’m the sword, but we need a shield too. Can you do it?”

“Perhaps.” Zara frowned. “They will come regardless, Felix.”

“I know,” he said, and stood. Lightning played off the Masterwork blade and his vision was stained by the flare of his power. “But I’ve got plans.”

Felix could feel the connections all around him, and between the people of Haarwatch, his friends, even the enemies that were huddled in fear a couple hundred feet away, the world was awash in them. Standing out among them all, however, were those that connected him to the other Unbound.

“Together, we’ll be ready for them.”