B2 Chapter 25 - Revalations

“Shiver! Thank Avalkin you’re safe!”

Vale rushed forward, wrapping Shiver in a tight hug as she stepped through the tear in reality directly into Solastra’s court.

Caledon approached with a grin, giving her a wave. He swallowed when he saw Virgil trailing after her with his guide. The man looked like he had been beaten into the ground, if his expression was anything to go by.

In fact… Caledon had witnessed the whole event.

The Highlady had not been present when Vale and Caledon had been transported to the courtyard. However, when they had arrived, strange bulbs had erupted out of the ground, dispersing innumerable floating seeds into the air. The seeds flickered into thousands of different colours independently of one another – impossibly forming a moving image which allowed them to watch Shiver’s confrontation with Virgil.

“Sorry I’m late. Well? Don’t keep me in suspense? Did you two make any progress?”

Shiver watched as Vale and Caledon avoided one another’s gaze. Her eyes narrowed. Evidently, she had missed some interesting developments. Vale grabbed her arm.

“Lord Quietus and I found our way into the Gravewoods beneath the Dreadwood, where the creatures of death resided. The voice says that I’m ready to descend! Although I’m surprised at how soon that happened… I also found a new revenant.”

“A revenant?”

Shiver gaped at the approach of her new skeleton, towering above them all, with its golden greataxe, gleaming in the morning light, and burnished bones of dark gold. Every step he took had an air of certainty to it, betraying a grace far beyond that of a conventional soldier. Shiver’s eyes lingered on its weapon.

“That’s… a Phobia.”

Then, Shiver caught sight of Triol’s black skeleton, and an unfamiliar creature that rested at its feet. The Deathstalker was far sleeker than the wolves her brother had raised in life. Far more deadly.

Shiver let out a low whistle.

“Not bad, my lady. You have undead that can Fearshape? Isn’t that supposed to be impossible?”

Vetrian Revenant’s undead, those responsible for the Rampage of Undeath did not shape their Fears. It was beyond the Highlord of Death’s ability, which was a relief given the endless hordes that he kept. The fact that Vale was able to… was nothing short of Insanity. Shiver squeezed her friend’s arm in congratulations. 

“What’s this one’s Fear?”

She gestured to the Fearshaper with the axe.

“A Fearshaper of blades.”

“No way. Can I fight it? Pretty please?”

Vale rolled her eyes, breaking into a more relaxed smile.

“It’s a Fearshaper in Delirium, sure you can manage, crazy orphan?”

Shiver grinned casting her glance back towards Virgil’s hunched shoulders, as he rapidly retreated from the courtyard.

Clearly, she was up to the challenge.

Caledon also glanced at the retreating man. He was sure Virgil was far more powerful than he had let onto in his fight with Shiver. From what he could tell, Virgil didn’t have much of an ego, and was content to keep Shiver under the impression that he didn’t have much more to offer by way of a challenge.

Though he couldn’t help but pity the man. Getting Shiver to do… anything was a hell of a job.

“What about you lordling?”

Caledon shook his head silently, with a tight smile.

“Just one. Didn’t get very far. What about you Shiver?”

Shiver’s eyes narrowed.

Quick to deflect my questions, it seems.

“Hmm… you did mention that there weren’t many compatible creatures around for you to hunt.”

“Same as Vale, I got the message that I’m ready to descend. It came sooner than I expected.”

Vale nodded her head in agreement. 

“Lord Quietus was as surprised as I was… Maybe the invocations we gained were more powerful than we thought?”

They flinched at the sound of a whip cracking through the air. They turned to the source of its origin.

Highlady Solastra Flora received them with a casual smile, in the throne that had been empty just a moment ago.

Shiver frowned at her.

“Not this Insane plant bitch again.”

Vale gaped at her, pinching her friend hard. She hissed through her teeth.

“Shiver!”

The Highlady just let out a boisterous laugh, joined by one of her knights – the one with the whip of bloody thorns and roses that had gotten their attention. Clona spoke.

“Highlady, may I spar with her?”

Shiver beamed at the knight, clearly excited at the prospect. 

“There will be plenty of time for that later, Clona. For now… Welcome to the Archcity of Life, the Dreadwood. My garden.”

Caledon shivered as he took in Highlady Solastra Flora for the very first time.

On the throne sat a middle-aged woman, who looked to be about the age of his father. With dark brown hair falling from her shoulders, and searing yellow irises. She was garbed in robes of green and brown. She was humbly dressed, and could have easily blended into a crowd of elves.

She was flanked by four Knights of the Dreadwood, two standing on either side of her – her honourguard. The two on her right wore elegant armour-

No… wait a minute.

His eyes narrowed as they passed over their armour. It’s the same Dreadwood armour that Semille wore when he confronted us… just different.

Clona, the knight to the immediate right of Solastra was lithe and lean, with a similar build to Shvier. She had form-fitting brown armour. However, where the armour the arrogant lord wore had been a mess of vine and root, hers was made up of smaller fibrous strands that locked together seamlessly. Blood seemed to drip from the ridges between her armour and colour the serrated edges of her thorn whip. Blood-red roses bloomed across her Phobia, accompanied by deadly, black thorns.

Next to her was a towering man garbed in an intricate black plate armour that looked to be forged from solid ebony wood, betraying only the slightest hint of innumerable strands that composed it. He bore a rectangular greatsword that flared out in a curved edge that he had planted onto the ground. A wolf of shadow blinked to existence beside him, and rested its head on its paws. The Fearshaper’s guide. Similarly to his guide, shadow seemed to leak out from the surface of his Phobia.

To Solastra’s left were the final pair of “knights” – if they were in fact, knights. Unlike the others, they did not wear the armour of the Dreadwood. The man to Solastra’s immediate left had wispy brown hair, and looked not to be too far from the ages of Shiver, Caledon and Vale. He had a elegant white wooden blade, curved similarly to Shiver’s own.

The final “knight” was a chubby older woman with puffy white hair and a pair of circular glasses. She was the picture of a cheerful, doting grandmother. Had she not been standing with any of the others, Caledon was certain he would have mistaken her for one.

“I’m sure that you have plenty of questions for me. Ask away.”

“Where’s my family?”

Caledon broke the silence immediately, stepping forward to meet the Highlady’s gaze unflinchingly.

She smiled.

“They are safe, and will come to meet you after our conference.”

She inclined his head towards the entrance to her court, where Silas was standing with a small smile of relief on his face, at the sight of his lord. He gave his lord a nod of reassurance.

Silas… thank Avalkin.

A quiet wind swept through the courtyard, and Shiver, Vale and Caledon silently met the gaze of the Highlady and her knights. Caledon clenched his fist.

Where did you even start? How many questions went unanswered from the events at Brimstone?

Caledon decided to start at the very beginning.

“The package that Lord Semille brought to my father…”

Solastra interjected, glancing at Shiver, needing no further prompting.

“I’m sure you’ve figured out its purpose, wouldn’t you say so, Shiver?”

“It awakens you as a Fearshaper.”

Solastra nodded.

“It is called a voidseed, and its purpose is just as you said, to awaken an elf as a Fearshaper.”

“Any elf, not just nobles?”

Solastra nodded at Vale’s question. Her brows furrowed in confusion. That was further confirmation that the widely held belief that Fearshaping was confined to the nobility was a lie. Just as Icey and Quietus had went to pains to repeat.

“So, what our guides said was true. Fearshaping is the right of all elves. But what about the temple we encountered in Anhedonia? That was where Caledon and I awakened.”

“The void temples were the only means to awaken as a Fearshaper. The voidseed was my own creation.”

Caledon interjected.

“If the temples existed… Why did you create it in the first place?”

Solastra smiled at Caledon.

“You remind me so much of your mother. Far sharper than that blockhead of a grandfather of yours. Why don’t you give it a shot?”

Caledon’s tried to stifle the unrelenting hammering in his chest. The Highlady waited, her gaze lingering on him, as he tried to battle the wave of hatred and fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He managed a single word.

“Control.”

The Highlady nodded and rose from her seat, and strode down the steps towards them. As she walked, she spoke, appearing to sense Caledon’s hesitation.

“Imagine a world in which the keys to unimaginable power were vested in a scant few sites capable of bestowing it. What would result?”

“Wars of control. A struggle to establish a monopoly over them.”

Solastra nodded at Caledon’s answer, as he finally mastered his emotions.

“Whoever controls them, controls the flow of Fearshapers. True to your words, young Brimstone, that was what our history has been characterised by. Wars of control. Petty squabbles, that hindered meaningful progress, threatening our extinction, and hanging over us like an executioner’s blade.”

Solastra continued to pace, looking up at the innumerable leaves of the Dawntree.

“No matter the efforts of the great houses of centuries past, a solution was never developed. A way to equitably reach an accord. Because the possibility of domination always loomed.”

The trio watched as the leaves of the Dawntree began to shift in the breeze.

That’s strange…

Vale felt a chill as she realised that no wind graced the courtyard, or their surrounds. The leaves of the Dawntree were moving independently, as if in response to the Highlady’s words.

“Until now of course.”

Shiver snorted.

“How thoughtful of you. Forgive me, Highlady, if I think you’re full of shit. Why would the nobility relinquish power over the temples-“

Caledon interrupted.

“Why did my father have to die for it?”

They watched as the vast Dawntree continued to shift above them, the sound of leaves rustling like the gentle crashing of waves on sand as it washed over them.

“Shiver is right. The nobility, most of us, are sinners. But know this.”

The Highlady’s eyes gleamed. 

“Not all of us were united in our goals. There were some of us, sick of the wars of control that threatened to bring us to our final ruin. Those wars were the greatest irony of Elucidor. The greatest hindrance of our race, even considering the Fears that plague us. An impediment to progress, our very survival.”

Solastra’s lips twisted into a savage smile.

“So we ended them.”

The sound of the leaves rose to a crescendo.

Shiver glanced back towards the Dreadwood in the distance, far beyond the buildings of the Archcity which stood between the Dawntree and the spawling forest.

She saw the Dreadwood in its entirety shifting in their wake.

The force of a single Fearshaper’s aura of their Fear.

“House Flora, Revenant, Brimstone and Dreamer. With the assistance of some other nobles. All of the current great houses banded together in the sin that now defines the nobility.”

Shiver’s eyes widened.

“Current” great houses?

She smiled softly, her eyes wistful, but resolute.

“We ushered the Rampage of Undeath.”

“What…”

Vale stumbled as her vision swam, and Shiver caught her firmly by her arm. The girl looked ready to pass out.

“House Revenant alone was not responsible for the atrocity. It was a coordinated ploy, designed to suppress Fearshapers and to place Fearshaping beyond the grasp of all elves.”

The Highlady gazed up at the vast Dawntree above them that swayed in a windless sky.

“We shared an arrogant dream of peace. We were the best of friends, even though war poised our houses against one another. Arbitrary and frustrating. Indeed, we were united in our frustration. How would we avert our looming destruction?”

Solastra smiled.

“All it took was the loss of innocent lives, and the will to rewrite history itself.”

Silence fell upon the courtyard. Caledon and Vale stood in shock at the Highlady’s claims. Shiver impassively continued to pick her nose, even as her eyes shone with curiosity. Vale’s mind was a mess.

House Revenant alone wasn’t responsible for the massacre of elves that touched Archcity and village alike? All of the major houses were in on it? And why… to suppress Fearshaping?

“How would the Rampage of Undeath usher in an era of peace you might wonder? The indiscriminate killing of innocent elves?”

Vale’s fists tightened.

“It rested on one, miraculous substance, from my very own garden. Drawing inspiration from the innovations of House Dreamer, as I am sure you will encounter when you descend in Delirium.”

Highlady Solastra smiled as she continued. 

“To understand its origin, I must revisit something fundamental to the descent. With every stage of Fear, Fearshapers are exposed to risks.”

The Highlady waved a hand, and a familiar bulb erupted from the ground. It dispersed its countless seeds into the air, that hovered to form a moving picture.

Caledon’s eyes widened.

It depicted a familiar painting, one he had glimpsed all the way back in the Academy of Anhedonia. The painting of an elf staring into a mirror in a dark room.’

“In Anhedonia, Fearshapers must confront their Fears. Failing to do so can be insidious. If you do not achieve acknowledgement, you will never be made aware of your Fear, or its creeping advance. With embracement, creating a Fearcore that is unable to support your guide’s burden-“

She fixed Shiver with her gaze.

“-or one that far exceeds all reasonableness, are threats in themselves.”

The image before them shifted, to an elf in a snowy landscape dressed in primitive rags, holding a spear. The Fearshaper depicted was hunting a frost wolf, but there were other hazy creatures that stood around it.’

“In Trepidation, your hallucinations and delusions worsen. Some even bear the potential to bring you physical harm. Should they reach you… they can also drive you to Insanity.”

The Highlady grinned.

“However, as I will soon teach you, the threat that Trepidation poses is far more subtle, and accompanies its greatest benefits. For Trepidation can equally be a source of terror-“

Her eyes flicked to Caledon.

“-or hope.”

She came to a halt, as the image shifted, showing an elf that stood at the precipice of an enormous cavern, so deep that light failed to illuminate even a section of it. 

“Finally, in Delirium, you delve into your nightmares-“

The Highlady’s eyes glinted.

“-and the nightmares of others, to acquire invocations that strain the limits of reality to an even greater extent than the ones you acquire in Trepidation. Should you fall to them, you will lose yourself to Insanity. Simple and definite, for there is a price to be paid for the beginnings of miracles that it introduces you to. True artistry.”

With a wave, the image dissipated. Shiver had a burning curiosity as to what risks awaited them in Dread.

“So, House Dreamer developed a safeguard. A substance, capable of suppressing an elf’s Fearshaping – Lucidity. If an elf is close to losing themselves in their nightmare, submerging them in Lucidity would pull them out.”

Shiver whispered under her breath, as she glanced at Vale and Caledon.

“Those tanks... In the Floors of Delerium. The ones that I found when I explored.”

Solastra resumed her seat on her throne. She smiled.

“Excellent insight, Shiver.”

Then shot her a smile of condescension.

“And ordinarily they would have been filled with Lucidity. What you stumbled across in your impossible exploration of the floors beyond you however...”

Solastra’s eyes gleamed.

The trio stumbled backwards as the ground before them began to crack. A large golden flower sprouted forth, and bloomed before them. They stared up at the golden orb that hovered at its epicentre, spilling forth a liquid.

Shiver drew her Phobia into her existence. And her voice, though deadly quiet, cut through the air like a blade.

She recognised the substance, its sickly glow. The addictive substance that had reduced many an elf to a shell of themselves as they chased relief from their Fears.

“Tranquillity. Explain.”

Solastra continued, nonplussed.

“I developed a hybrid drug. One with the effects of lucidity, and the other… with the effects of nightviper toxin.”

The three went still. The image of a tiny undead wyrm burying itself into Pevir’s neck returned to Shiver and Vale.

“I see you’re familiar with it. Nightvipers are capable of inducing memory loss. However, with their removal, the lost memories return, as it did with your friend.”

Vale paled at the sight of the Highlady’s glowing yellow irises.

“I developed a drug which achieved both – memory loss and suppression of Fearshaping. A potent substance, with two catches. One tragic, and one inconvenient. Care to guess what they were? The answers lie before you already.”

Caledon’s mind raced as he tried to put the pieces together. The nature of House Flora’s industry. The purpose behind his father’s greenhouse – that he had glimpsed when he had first descended. Then he dismissed his Phobia, enraptured by the challenge, and the scent of a solution.

“Regularity of consumption.”

‘Exactly. I knew you weren’t like Valeric that big buffoon. Care to explain it to us, Highlord?’

Caledon gritted his teeth as the Highlady laughed teasingly.

“I noticed it… in Sakar. Before I left for my mission to capture Shiver… I saw him sweating. The man never sweats, despite spending hours in the undercity forging with flame. In hindsight, that was unsurprising – he was a Dreadwalker with a Fear of the forge. Then… when he revealed himself to be a Fearshaper, he told us that father had advised him not to consume…”

His gaze met theirs.

“Flora’s produce. We saw it in Pevir as well… After spending weeks in the Archcity, he began to recognise words… wait a minute, he was sweating as well!”

Caledon gulped as he directed his gaze towards the Highlady.

“Is Tranquillity capable of censoring information? He spoke of being unable to read passages related to Fearshaping, or the Academy. The information gradually revealed itself to him after weeks in Anhedonia.”

The Highlady just smiled.

“It works by disrupting the connection to existing memories. Ironically, Pevir knew about the information contained in those books, which was why Tranquillity disrupted his comprehension of it. Did any of you think to corroborate his claims? Besides, that is why we went to such pains to erase information relating to Fearshaping. It was not a foolproof solution in that regard. There will always be information that slips through the cracks. An acceptable risk, we took great care to mitigate.”

Caledon gulped. They had not. All of them had been preoccupied with their descension.

The implications of the Highlady’s words were… incomprehensible. Vale’s voice wobbled as she raised it.

“H-highlady. But every elven city derives its produce-“

She was met with a gleaming smile.

“No…”

“Yes, Vale. Every elf has a degree of Tranquillity running in their veins… save for a few of them, whose Fearshaping interferes with the drug. It allowed us to collectively suppress elven memory in relation to Fearshaping, while subduing their Fearshaping ability. Depriving even their ability to call forth their guides, for those short of the realms of Delirium and Dread. Those Fearshapers needed a much higher dosage. The strongest ones… were given special attention.”

Caledon cursed as he recalled Sakar discussing his guide. He was getting drugged with Tranquillity… Until his father told him to stop consuming Flora’s goods.

That would mean… Father saw to it personally that Sakar was drugged and kept unawares. It explains why the old man never seemed to leave the forges. If he did… his residual aura would have-

Wait.

Another realisation reached Caledon, as his mind was brought back to the very assignment that started the whole chain of events. One of his initial theories that explained Shiver’s Fearshaping.

“Feartouched elves…. Those capable of subconsciously inflicting their Fear upon the environment….”

This time, Highlady Solastra fixed Shiver with her gaze. Their encounter at the flower shop in Eleric, with the friendly florist. The flowers that bloomed around her in response to her presence.

The Highlady graced them with a single word that made their hair stand on end.

“Dreadwalkers. All of them.”

She smiled like the sun.

“The subconscious manifestation of their Fear is the result of their aura of Fear developed upon their descent to Dread.”

The ever-shifting leaves in the Dawntree above them came to an abrupt halt. Then, the innumerable shifting trees in the vast Dreadwood that extended outwards as far as they eye could see, in every direction, came to a stop.

Silence cut through the courtyard, a casual and deadly display of the Highlady’s own aura.

Caledon and Vale looked like they were about to empty the contents of their stomachs onto the court floor.

Shiver just rolled her eyes.

Show-off.

The pieces gradually began to connect together. Tranquillity was used to suppress the collective elven memory of Fearshaping, to allow the great noble houses to alter the narrative around its accessibility. The common refrain that it was a power limited to the nobility was a convenient lie.

It also suppressed the powers of Fearshapers, preventing them from even comprehending their guides, or invoking their Fears.

A cruel, brilliant and utterly Insane plan, that strained the limits of belief.

“You said there was a second catch to Tranquillity? The tragic one?”

Vale began to shake, as a theory began to form in her mind.

“It’s tied to the Rampage, isn’t it.”

Solastra nodded.

“In our tests, the effects of the memory suppression were inconsistent. There was however, one element, that amplified its effects, allowing it to take root deeper in the mind, increasing its efficacy manifold.”

Her smile dropped, and she gazed out at black roses lined in gold, that sprouted from bushes throughout her open courtyard.  

“Trauma.”

Vale let out a soft heart-rending cry.

They stared at Solastra Flora as she continued, unimpeded, her face betraying not a single emotion.

Describing the greatest massacre of elves in recent memory as if it were a trivial necessity.

Heartlessness.

Or was it?

Shiver’s eyes narrowed.

It would be easy to pigeonhole the Highlady into that of a psychopathic maniac. Yet… she seemed to think her actions were justified, given the looming war. Thousands of lives were lost in the Rampage…in exchange for Elucidor’s salvation.

At least, that was how the Highlady saw it.

“So, you collectively traumatised elven society, and introduced Tranquillity into your produce. Drugging the entire population to induce mass memory loss about Fearshaping and Elucidor’s history, and rewrote the narrative to portray it as a power unique to the nobility.”

Shiver shook her head.

“Lady… you’re even more Insane than I am. And this plan seems much too full of holes.”

Solastra smiled, nodding her agreement. Heedless of Vale’s weeping or Caledon’s shaking. Shiver continued.

“But that’s not all… is it. There’s one piece missing in all of this.”

Shiver’s cerulean eyes flashed, as they fearlessly met the Highlady’s own.

“The existing Fearshapers. It would be too difficult to keep track of every single Fearshaper to ensure that they received a higher dosage.”

Solastra smiled, as if proud at her insight.

“Our lord from Brimstone has the answer to that.”

Caledon paused, recalling his grandfather’s final words, before he departed for…

“The Archcity of Dreams… They’re trapped there.”

His eyes widened.

“In a web of corruption. No…”

Solastra nodded.

“Our plan’s success hinged on a few elements. A traumatic event. The regular ingestion and steady supply of Tranquillity. But most of all… that the most powerful Fearshapers had to be quickly identified and dealt with. Not only were they capable of resisting Tranquillity’s effects, if any escaped and rose up in opposition of us, our plan would be doomed to fail. Worse, a tyrant could emerge, perverting our efforts, to build an empire unopposed.”

Solastra continued.

“The Rampage of Undeath conveniently served two of those purposes… traumatising the populus and flushing Fearshapers out. When they rose to confront the hordes, they were identified and-“

Caledon shouted.

“Drawn into the web of corruption! Their wills and lives stolen from them!”

“Would you rather we killed them, Caledon? Or perhaps, that they continued on their course, to destroy Elucidor with their greed?”

Silence hung in the air between them. Caledon gritted his teeth.

“The bulk of Fearshapers in Delirium reside in the Archcity of Dreams. Even as powerful as Saravagan is, he can’t control all of them concurrently. The most powerful Dreadwalkers… they there were sealed.”

“Where? Sorry flower lady, but I struggle to believe that you dealt with all of Elucidor’s strongest Dreadwalkers.”

Solastra just shook her head evenly with a smile at Shiver’s question.

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Yet there are exceptions, aren’t there? The Feartouched. Sakar. The lady at the flower shop-“

“Yes, there are. They are precisely that – exceptions. Sakar, was one of your father’s closest confidants. For the task he was assigned, to usher in an age of innovation to support our dream, he couldn’t afford to go on without him.”

“And the girl at the flower shop?”

Solastra only smiled at Shiver.

Shiver struggled to grasp the scope of the ploy that Solastra had manufactured. But her mind turned to her acknowledgement, in Anhedonia. The image of the bespectacled man and the woman with wings of ice, similar to the Academy’s guardian Terror.

Could they be…

No. It doesn’t matter. The Highlady is batshit Insane.

“I’m not an idiot, as much as you might all believe, especially you Shiver.”

Shiver blanched.

Can this Feardamned plant bitch read minds as well?

“The ongoing success of the plan was tenuous. There were innumerable points of failure. Just two of them being the ongoing cooperation of our houses and the successful suppression of memories – which was the weakest link. Lord Brimstone over here almost ended it all by disrupting Dreamy’s web of corruption with his descent. An outstanding feat.”

Shiver raised an eyebrow.

Dreamy? She’s referring to Saravagan Dreamer, the Highlord of dreams? The more I learn about this lady, the less I like about myself.

Evidently, she wasn’t the only one that gave people annoying nicknames. Solastra inclined her head to Shiver.

“Which was why it was always meant as a temporary measure. We only needed it to work until we found a way not to rely on the temples. Which we achieved – a decade later – our new hope. Which now rests at the bottom of your stomach.”

They turned to Shiver in abject horror.

“Oh, stop it you idiots, don’t encourage her. I’m sure she had spares.”

Right on cue, the Highlady produced a small brown ball similar to what Shiver had ingested, that night when she was accosted by Dag and his thugs.

“All that we have left to do is to build the proper infrastructure to support a world of Fearshapers. Which Berevan Brimstone was tasked with achieving through Brimstone’s industry. We stand on the precipice of an unprecedented age of growth never before enjoyed on Elucidor. One unhindered by the petty wars of control that have marred our history. So… Caledon.”

She turned to Caledon, his face pale and marred with sweat.

“You came in search for answers. Does this tarnish the image of your father?”

It was an unkind question. Berevan had colluded with the other dissidents to put an end to the wars of control, accepting the “sacrifice” that the Rampage would call for.

“Sorry for pointing out the obvious. But one of your prerequisites for success seems to be lacking. The ongoing cooperation of your houses, for one.”

Shiver’s piercing gaze drilled into Solastra, who simply nodded.

“Vetrian Revenant betrayed us. He tricked Dreamy, and managed to kill your father by sowing seeds of insecurity and distrust. Which is a miracle in itself, given the nature of Berevan’s Fearshaping. Did you know Berevan’s Fearpath, Caledon?”

The term was unfamiliar to him. His father had never mentioned it.

“He never mentioned it.”

Solastra smiled.

“Likely because it’s been a while since he was reminded of it. It is an encapsulation of the shape of his Fear, a title awarded by the Singer – Idriel. One that you will all gain, upon your descent from Trepidation, into Delirium.”

[Fearpath of the Eternal Phoenix]

Solastra shook her head.

“You will not know the significance of this, but know, that of all of your lineage, he alone lived up to his full potential, walking every step of the way with humility that I admired. No less than the efforts of two Highlords could have taken him down.”

“Yeah… you definitely have a problem with humility-“

“Shut up Shiver.”

Vale interceded. The tears in her eyes ran dry, and bloodshot eyes met Caledon’s. He silently nodded, his own thoughts far away.

“My father. What is he after?”

Solastra inclined her head towards Vale.

“What do you think his goal is?”

“To Fearshape with souls, as I do. An army of undead Fearshapers that wield the Fears that they possessed in life would be unstoppable. Am I right?”

Highlady Solastra stared at Vale. The silence drew on, and Vale shifted uncomfortably.

“Perhaps, there is a grain of truth to it. But not in the way you assume.”

Vale shouted.

“Enough of your obscure words and mistruths. Tell me now, what is he after?”

Solastra’s eyes hardened, and once more, she rose from her throne to walk towards them, stopping just in front of them. As if to provide evidence of her sincerity.

“All of you. It is in my best interests to be forthcoming with you. One or perhaps even two of among you already have designs to kill Vetrian. If his goals are achieved, he will be the greatest threat to the future that we envisioned. A tyrant who could claim Elucidor for himself.”

Caledon interceded with venom in his voice.

“If anyone is a tyrant it is him. Highlord Saravagan Dreamer, who controls Fearshapers against their will in Somnolence. You are a tyrant too. You all are. Stop evading the question.”

For the first time, they glimpsed the slightest break in the Highlady’s composure. Solastra’s knights shifted uncomfortably next to her throne.

“I cannot tell you. I cannot tell you, for there are Fearshapers capable of extracting my words from your very minds. There are some secrets so dangerous that even uttering them would put our very world at risk. As I’ve said, it is in my best interests to be forthcoming with you. And yet I cannot.”

Highlady Solastra shook her head. She paused, as if measuring her words, her eyes on the distant canopy, but her attention far away. She delivered the sentence casually and carefully.

“Sometimes, even the best of intentions can create an incentive for tyranny.”

“Hypocrite.”

Shiver delivered the word coldly then her eyes widened,  as she puzzled over the Highlady’s tantalising line.

What does this remind me of?

Solastra turned to regard Vale and Caledon.

“All I will say to you. My wish for you all-“

Solastra paused, with uncharacteristic emotion in her eyes. She met each of their gazes individually.

“Is for you to descend. Dance so close to Insanity that you can feel the taste of its rancid breath on you, and put an end to Vetrian. If he achieves his goals…”

“There will not be an Elucidor left to save.”