Throne Hunters Book 1, Chapter 45

His three friends simply stared at him.

Vic recovered first. “Wait. You’re telling me that you’re voluntarily giving up six hundred thousand scales?”

“Investing,” corrected Harald.

Vic pressed the tips of his fingers against his temples. “My mind. It hurts. I can’t understand anyone being so selfless.”

Nessa’s eyes were shining. “He has his reasons, Vic. Recall his father’s advice?”

“Harald.” Sam had placed her hand over her mouth. “You’re serious?”

“About your two scales? Most of all. Perhaps it should be more, I don’t know. I’m open to hearing what you all think. But, Sam. What you were forced to do. For so many years.” Harald felt emotion swell in his throat, making his voice hoarse. “No amount can ever make that right.”

“I think two Horizons is plenty,” cut in Vic. “Let’s not get carried away here. You’re quite grateful, aren’t you, Sam?”

Sam ignored him. “Thank you, Harald. I…” She hung her head. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

“Trying?” asked Harald, surprised. “It’s a done deal. The scales are yours as soon as we break this Infinitum.”

“No, I mean…” Sam struggled to find the words, a flush rising to her cheeks. “These past few days. I’ve been struggling to define myself. To become my own person.” She glanced at Vic and Nessa, clearly embarrassed, but forged on. “And part of that decision was to become independent. To not owe anybody anything ever again.”

“Oh, I see,” said Nessa. “You’re worried these two scales will make you feel indebted to Harry.”

“I know that’s not what he intends,” said Sam hurriedly. “It’s a beautiful gesture. But… yes. It’s just… it’s just so much wealth.”

“Sam.” Harald fought the urge to step forward and take her hand. “It’s not a gift. You earned this. And more. I’m just trying to make right, on some level, what was done to you.”

Sam nodded, obviously still feeling conflicted.

“Sam, darling. Let Uncle Vic help.” Vic put his arm around her shoulders. “Think of it this way, why don’t you? You’re no longer a Majordomo of House Darrowdelve. You’re instead a raider extraordinaire in possession of a Divine-ranked soul. Harry recognizes your unique worth, and no doubt feels terrible for having held you back. This is his meager way of setting you back on the path you should have been walking for years now if you hadn’t been so awfully inconvenienced.”

Sam raised both brows, considering Vic’s words.

“The scales are yours if you want them,” said Harald. “But you’re not obligated.”

“You can fashion them as a sign-on bonus,” suggested Nessa. “For joining the crew. She could no doubt earn far more by joining any of the major Houses. This could be your way of cajoling a Divine-ranked soul into joining us instead.”

Sam stepped out from under Vic’s arm. “Please, everyone. Just let me think about it for a second.”

“Sure,” said Vic. “I, for one, have no problem joining this suddenly wealthy crew. You mentioned salaries? How are those to be determined?”

“We can figure all that out,” said Harald, watching Sam with concern as she bit her lower lip and stared to the side. “I want this to feel equitable. To feel right. I want you all to feel valued and important to the crew, because you are. But first, I need to break down this scale. I need to pay Sonora.”

“You could just wait till tomorrow morning,” said Vic. “The duel is almost upon you.”

“No. I’m like Sam in this, I want no debts over my head. Do you think the countess could break the Infinitum for us?”

“And thereby allow you to avoid the banking commission? No, sadly. She’s not got the wealth, I fear, to tie so much up in a single scale. But I’m not terrible at negotiating rates. If you trust me with the Infinitum, I’ll see to it that it’s broken fairly and at the lowest commission.”

Harald went to make a cutting joke, but Vic was studying him with unusual seriousness. “Sure. Thanks, Vic.”

And he placed the Infinitum in his friend’s palm.

“Wow,” said Vic, glancing up from the precious scale to meet Harald’s gaze. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Harald nodded. “We’re to become a crew. If we’re to rise together, there must be trust. From here on out, that’s how it’s going to be. You all have my complete trust.”

“Careful,” said Nessa.

“I mean it. But Vic? If you could get me that Horizon’s Whisper today? I’d like to Ascend before I face Yeoric tomorrow. He asked that we make the duel quick. He’s got business to attend to, right after.”

“Ha!” Vic grinned, delighted. “Does he now? Well. I’d hate to inconvenience the poor man. I’ll hie me down to the bank right now. The conversion rate rises the greater the value of the scale. Standard rates for an Infinitum are somewhere around 2 - 3%. I’ll do my best to knock that down, but expect, oh, I don’t know, some three Zenith Tides to be deducted from the final amount.”

“I’ve seen you work Master Ling,” said Harald. “I pity the bank teller.”

Vic closed his fist around the scale, winked at Harald, and jogged up the steps and out of sight.

Harald glanced at Nessa. “And you? You all right with this arrangement?”

“Darling, I’ve been propositioned more times than I can remember, but never to the tune of so many scales. I feel positively flattered.” Nessa’s smile didn’t touch her eyes. “But the demons are, as they say, in the details. I’ll be wanting to see this charter before I get too excited.”

“I plan to study my father’s own arrangements,” said Harald. “There are copies of his charter upstairs.”

“Then I’m sure I’ll be more than satisfied.” Nessa inclined her head. “With that much wealth you could hire on other veterans. Grow the crew.”

“No, I want it to be just us four for now. No random strangers.” Harald took a deep breath. “I’ll get to work on the charter after my duel with Yeoric.”

“Then I’ll await you upstairs,” said Nessa. “Today’s your last day before your duel. Some final words of wisdom are probably in order.”

And then she, too, left.

Sam was hugging herself tightly, but with Nessa and Vic gone, she finally forced herself to meet Harald’s eyes. “I’m sorry. For not being more appreciative.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I know. I know I shouldn’t. But I also know you, Harald. I know where this is coming from. A place of love, of fear, of desperation, of - of - friendship. This crew of ours. There’ll be no going back. Vorakhar, Eclavistra, all the others. We’ll be involved in the celestial war.”

Harald nodded slowly. “You will.”

Sam gave a despairing laugh. “And for some reason that doesn’t terrify me as it should.”

“Maybe it’s because you’ve got that Divine Soul Rank. Because you’re now the Brightest Star. Because you’re a Netherwarden Knight. Maybe in the thick of a celestial war is where you belong.”

“Madness,” whispered Sam, her eyes glazing over momentarily as she considered, and then she shook her head and focused on him again. “But, yes. Maybe it is. You and me both.”

“You and me, Sam.” He extended his hand.

She took it, eyes brimming with tears, and wordlessly they shook on his proposal and their future.

* * *

Harald dove down into his core, into that eternal ocean in which lay his personal Fallen Angel. As before, he felt himself a wisp before the grandeur of the heavens, but now he came charged with uncommon power, and in his wake flashed golden stars of his own creation.

Awash with the power of the Horizon’s Whisper, he descended into the mysterious source of his power, and there saw the Fallen Angel appear before him, recumbent and dead, lit by the billion pinpricks of her remaining scales, her Throne of Harmony Ascended and glimmering in her palms.

As always, he couldn’t help but still and ponder the miracle of her being within his being. Of her presence, brought to life when his father had first gifted him the scales to awaken his own Cosmos.

But his newfound power brought its own sense of urgency. Harald extended his palms toward the heavenly corpse and channeled the might of his newly absorbed scale into her being. Glimmering light flowed from his spirit like a rippling torrent of wonder, down into the constellations of scales.

The Fallen Angel awoke before the influx of divine might. She stirred, her vast armature flexing, her face raising to the invisible skies, and her wings beat slowly, seeking to tear her free of the earthly firmament in which she was trapped.

The Throne of Harmony ensconced within her palms burned bright, each a perfect garden, but the power he poured into her overflowed and ran into the Throne of Shadows, those hidden nexuses of power hidden within the great scaled feathers of her wings.

The twinned Throne of Shadows flared bright, and Harald felt them Ascend. It was as if his chest had unhitched after taking a blow to the sternum, allowing him at long last to breathe.

The Fallen Angel’s wings beat once more, stilled, and her face turned away from the skies to gaze in sorrow at the depths once more.

Both Thrones remained vibrant, however. Where the first was visible as gardens in her palms, the Throne of Shadows was itself a twilight glow that sheathed her wings, a permanent eclipse that hid as much as it revealed.

Harald’s mind wrestled with the divine revelation, and was insufficient to the task. Why was the Throne of Harmony represented as tangible gardens, while the Throne of Shadows were, even when Ascended, little more than a penumbra that he could now distinctly discern?

Regardless, they were now his. Conduits to the Fallen Angel’s power, doubling the might of his Abilities.

He allowed himself to admire the vast and adumbrate form, and then he raised his own face to the heavens and willed himself to climb, to return to his body, to leave this mysterious miracle in the depths of his soul.

Harald opened his eyes.

He was back in his father’s gym, the old rafters overhead, Nessa seated cross-legged beside him.

But within him. A new sense of potential. It was at once intangible yet focused, a sense that he could accomplish so much more now with Abyssal Attunement and Aura of the Aching Depths.

He couldn’t restrain himself. He summoned his window, and gazed upon his statistics.

Thrones: 2/7 (Throne of Harmony, Throne of Shadows)

Scales: 112,274/1,000,000

Harald couldn’t help but grin as he sat up.

“I have to give it to you,” said Nessa, arms looped around her shins, head canted to one side. “When Vic told me about your duel, I thought you were a dead man walking. Teaching you the sword was more an act of pity than faith.”

Harald’s grin remained, her words buoying his spirits nearly as much as his newly Ascended Throne. “But now?”

“Now?” She frowned at him. “I barely recognize you. An Abyssal Initiate with two Ascended Thrones. Strength 11, Dexterity 9, Constitution 12. If I hadn’t witnessed your growth with my own eyes, I’d not believe it.”

“You should have seen Lucine’s expression when she came to set terms,” laughed Harald.

“I can well imagine. But let me bring you gently back to ground now. Yeoric’s physical stats were Strength 13, Dexterity 12, Constitution 14.”

“Were?”

Nessa’s gaze became pitying. “Those were his stats when last recorded by the Free Company almost a year ago. He’s been raiding since, hasn’t he?”

“Right,” said Harald.

“For all we know, he might be Level 3. He might have Ascended to his second Throne as well. Don’t go into this fight with any assumptions, Harald.”

“Sure, of course.” Harald fought to keep the reality check from lowering his spirits. “But I’m an Abyssal Initiate. I’m powered by Vorakhar’s Demon Seed. He’s just an Iron Vanguard.”

“Who no doubt has far more experience with actual combat and dueling than you do. But I’ve made my point. Don’t think your victory is guaranteed. Far from it. You’re going to have to do everything within your power to surprise him, create an opening, and then take full advantage of it. His Actives and Passives combined with his higher Constitution means he’ll wear you down faster than you will him.”

“Don’t discount my Aura of the Aching Depths.”

“Fair point. But don’t rely on it to do all your work either. Your Abyssal Attunement is next to useless if you can’t land a blow, and his entire power set revolves around defense. Hence the strategy I’m going to suggest.”

Harald leaned forward. “To defeat him?”

Nessa’s smile turned wicked. “But of course. Were I in your boots, here’s what I would do. Now listen carefully. Once you understand, we’ve only one afternoon left to train.”

“We can train into the evening,” protested Harald.

“No. You’re going to rest and sleep well. Being refreshed and sharp will count for far more than a few extra hours’ practice.”

Harald frowned.

“Up!” Nessa rose smoothly to her feet. “Fetch a training blade. We’ll make the most of the remaining hours. Don’t you worry.”

Harald jogged over to the sword bag. His heart pounded, his thoughts whirled. He wanted to feel eager, confident, ready for tomorrow’s battle. He felt lethal, felt dangerous, felt ready to crush Yeoric with overwhelming power.

But Nessa’s words of caution rang in his mind, so as he crouched by the bag to draw out the weapons, he forced himself to exhale, to steady his nerves, and focus.

All he had now was a fighting chance.

Nothing less, nothing more.