[Severed Divinity] 94. Aran’s Arrival

Welco had lived much of his life in Eldrassin. Even though the sects were removed from the city proper, off on their own bluff, it was the only home he recognized. As a boy, the city had seemed ancient; he’d never imagined that he’d live to see its collapse. Perhaps that was why his peers were so... complacent. They just couldn’t fathom Eldrassin’s end, even when its near-immortal founder had died.

It’s probably because it doesn’t do any good to worry about what you cannot change. If a force came knocking, one that all the tier threes could not stop, well... they’d just fail, and that would be the end.

Devon Aran was knocking.

Welco knew strength wasn’t measured in tier alone; it was strategy and positioning, using every piece on the board, and even shifting—or upending—the board itself when possible.

Welco Femera was not strong enough to defeat Devon Aran and save Eldrassin City, but he didn’t need to be if he could get others to fight for him, like Sumana Laius. But it was one thing to plan to make use of a tier four, and another to follow through. In all fairness, his initial plans had been less ambitious, centered around helping his clan. It was only since yesterday night when he’d agreed to join the queen’s side that his goals had morphed to include saving the city.

And now everything was coming to a head. Welco knew because he had shadow puppets watching for Aran’s arrival. The only ways into Eldrassin were the front gates, burrowing underground, entering through the Lowerdeep, or scaling the walls.

It taxed his concentration to cover so many vantage points. Thankfully, aura training required very little presence of mind, allowing him to take advantage of Sumana Laius’s unique presence to strengthen himself while keeping vigil.

Welco had never seen Aran in person before, for obvious reasons, though he had seen depictions of the unaging sovereign. The monochrome vision of his puppets was enough to recognize Aran standing tall on the grand white wall of the canyon that encompassed all of Eldrassin City, dressed in armor fashioned from matte scales that absorbed sunlight. That was largely what had drawn his shadow puppet’s attention—the notable concentration of shadow energy.

If his imperious, yet relaxed, demeanor wasn’t enough to identify him by, a thin, black diadem graced his head, hovering ever so slightly off his skin and hair. Several gems lay embedded in it. Welco doubted they were aesthetic—they were probably invaluable magic materials.

Atop the wall that kept Eldrassin safe, Aran waited and watched without hurry, accompanied only by a waif of a woman sitting on the gorge’s edge, a silk cloak draping like a limp flag. Welco pegged her as a tier three protege, brought along to see the wider world and test herself against the strength of the Elven Lands.

With every passing second he observed Aran, his unease grew. This was not the guise of a man going into battle. Aran looked like a king coming home. No nerves or unease, just anticipation and road-wariness.

Aran’s thoughts were an utter mystery. How far would he go to find the prototypes? Considering the stakes—the ability to elevate his followers, and potentially himself, to tier five—Welco figured the man would go to any lengths to secure them. After all, the payoff would be even larger if the Aran Empire found a way to reverse engineer the technology.

But Devon Aran seemed so calm, not at all the bloodthirsty tyrant he’d envisioned. Maybe Welco was wrong, having assumed the worst out of caution.

Until proven otherwise, though, he had to assume the worst. If Devon Aran was prepared to go scorched earth on the city to secure the prototypes, how could Welco lead him away and avert Eldrassin’s destruction?

The shadow mage sucked in a breath. The pieces were set on the board—he needed to move. With great risk came great reward. Succeeding here might give him what he needed to reach the next tier, and with Lumina Eldrassin’s help, the one after it.

The force of Sumana Laius’s presence kept Welco on his knees as he resumed speaking. “Devon Aran isn’t the only other tier four in the city. An elven cultivator from Shor Mei is here. If you act decisively, you stand a chance at killing them both—and seizing the prototypes they should be fighting over.”

“So eager to point me at one of your own,” the Anarch replied. “I am aware of the elf. She made a scene yesterday.”

Welco felt as though his heart stopped beating in his chest. So the Anarch’s agents had observed—or at least gotten wind—of the fight.

“For now, Aran is stationary on the wall, surveying the city,” Welco continued.

The beast snorted and stood to its full height, its long, coiled body filling the platform. “He is bold. When we reach the surface, I will receive fresh information from my own forces. Remember the cost for dishonesty—and betrayal.” It licked its lips. “Come. You and the child, on me.”

Welco wasted no time, boosting himself onto the beast’s back with shadow magic and using tendrils to anchor himself. Isen jogged to the monster and scaled its body without difficulty, the fur serving as easy handholds. He settled to the side of the beast’s neck, almost on its shoulder. He was so dwarfed by the Anarch’s size that he was barely visible in its fur.

And then, the beast was off. Welco closed his eyes and focused on keeping the tendrils tight, so he didn’t bounce around on the monster’s back as it slid on the water’s surface, turning everywhere it went to ice. He couldn’t help a tinge of envy at the graceful way Isen kept his position, rolling with Sumana Laius’s movements as it surged forward. He could do most things a cultivator could with the help of magic, but there were still limits.

There was only one real exit they could take, the one they’d used to enter the Lowerdeep. As it the door came into view, Welco wondered how the beast was going to fit—

Until it smashed straight through, its ice freezing the door and the beast’s massive form shattering it. Fragments of ice whirled around them like broken glass, and Welco rose shadows over himself and Isen on reflex, closing his eyes.

The monster barreled forward, its languid body slinking up the stairs as though it were flying. It filled Welco with vertigo, quite the feat given how he slinked around using his shadows.

The beast can’t possibly know which way to go, can it?

Welco’s suspicion was proven right as they reached a nexus point several stories up, where it could continue to climb or exit the stairway in one of four directions. The beast seemed to pick one at random, going in the wrong direction under the city. Welco couldn’t see any reason for doing so, and he slipped into a new role.

“Let me guide you to Aran,” he said, a shadow speaking the words in the monster’s ear.

“I go not to Aran, but to the other one,” the beast said, its voice clear despite the high speeds.

Welco blinked. “You know where the tier four elf is?”

“I must have neglected to inform you,” the monster replied, its tone tinged with a dark sort of humor, one that filled Welco’s stomach with instinctive dread. “You implied that I should strike when the elf and human come to blows over what we all seek. So I shall.”

“How do you know where the elf is?” Welco asked. The question was a calculated risk—would the beast consider it overstepping?

“My forces tailed her to where she has been recovering. They hoped to steal the prototypes, but were unable to get close enough to determine if she even had them in her possession. Disappointing, but to be expected from a divine core cultivator. Even heavily injured, she is any lower tiered’s match.”

The implication was that Yvonne hadn’t left whatever location she was using as a safe house, recovering as quickly as possible from Lumina Eldrassin’s attacks. It gave him no small pleasure to hear she’d been forced to hunker down for the entire day, though that fire was doused by remembering the state Lumina was in.

It hadn’t been an even trade.

Welco let the matter drop. If Sumana Laius thought it knew the way to go, he was content to let it navigate. As long as they remained below ground, the risk of discovery by the other tier fours was minimal.

As the Anarch finally made its way onto a more populated subterranean boulevard, Welco directed his focus toward a new purpose. With gritted teeth, he forced his shadows through the tunnel, keeping them abreast of the divine beast’s rapid advance through what felt like sheer force of will. He placed panes of shadows in front of bystanders and pushed them to the sides, clearing the way. Many shouted in fear and surprise, but there wasn’t time to explain—nor did they need to know the truth.

After a few minutes, the beast’s pace finally slowed. It decelerated to a stop by a stairwell, this one fairly empty.

“Scout the area,” the Anarch commanded. Welco complied wordlessly. Through saving civilians and keeping an eye on Devon Aran, his attention had been thoroughly occupied. Now that he had a moment to breathe, he could finally take in where they’d stopped.

The lower level—the most populous area of the city. The only reason the stairwell was so empty was because it had been closed off, locked to the public.

He realized with a start that Sumana Laius wasn’t asking him to scout the surface, but the area below—a closed wormway stop.