[Severed Divinity] 89. The Divine Beast

[ My current outline has this book ending at chapter 104, so we're getting close! In my draft I'm on chapter 98. When I finish book 1 I intend to post the remaining chapters rapidly. For now, I'm keeping ahead of Patreon to give myself room to make changes and small retcons, and also so Sontag, my editor, can leave feedback. ]

Stelia was a mage, but her elven physique was sufficient to comfortably bear Lumina Eldrassin on her back, strapped into a harness made from the same beige cloth Stelia had worn when they’d encountered her in the library.

Isen, Welco’s puppet, and Allezin all accompanied the tier two Corasin outside the boundary of the Corasin Clan, waiting for Yura’s return. It was accessible much like Clan Femera in the upper level of Eldrassin City, at the end of a long, elevated grassy path. They stayed half a mile away in a grove of trees.

Welco paid them a brief, personal visit, conjuring a dome of shadows for them to hide under. After that, he returned to Clan Femera, leaving the shadow puppet behind. The construct flitted between the dome and the Corasin clan’s interior, eavesdropping on how things were proceeding.

“People are not pleased with the sudden change of plans,” Welco explained.

“Has Yura mentioned me?” Isen asked. They’d gotten Yura to agree to keeping Isen’s power secret, at least for now. Still, he couldn’t help but worry something would slip out. The more people knew about what he could do, the worse he felt. Like he was digging himself deeper into a hole from which he could never escape.

“No,” Welco replied.

“Have you mentioned what I can do to anyone besides Jorin and Kelsina?” Isen wondered.

“Of course not.” The puppet’s smile widened. “Why would I intentionally antagonize you? I’m your patriarch.”

Isen shrugged, then fiddled with his new armor. He was still getting used to the leather sections affixed to the cloth.

“Where did you get the dagger on your belt?” Allezin suddenly asked. “The one you never use.”

Isen flinched. “My master gave it to me as a keepsake.”

Allezin nodded, accepting the answer without further comment. It did put Isen on edge, though. The divine blade’s discovery was one more thing to worry about.

He wondered again if he should make use of the divine dagger’s vision of Erasmus. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t see how he’d get away with it—Welco was constantly watching with his shadow puppets. Isen didn’t know what he looked like when receiving a vision from Legacy, but with his luck, he’d probably start glowing.

As the minutes ticked on, Isen distracted himself by practicing his new techniques, repeatedly forming the whirling energy patterns in his meridians without activating them.

He thought he felt something... different. Like there was something new shifting around in his body, and particularly in his mind. He couldn’t touch it directly, but it responded to the passive movement of energy through his meridians.

The only thing he could think of that might have caused the change was Lumina Eldrassin’s prototype, but Isen thought that wasn’t supposed to have any effect until later, when he was a tier four reaching for tier five?

Welco’s next announcement broke Isen from his thoughts. Clan Corasin would evacuate within the hour.

“Yura will lead the Corasins personally. Stelia is to remain with Mira as the flame bearer.” The shadow mage considered for a moment. “My true body will stay with the Femera clan. Allezin, you’ll be responsible for protecting Mira and holding the prototypes until we regroup. It shouldn’t take the clans long to reach the outside, and I’ll use my puppets to facilitate communications between all three groups.”

Stelia pointed to Isen, Lumina’s blue-green flame dancing over her shoulder. “What about him?”

“He’ll be where he’s needed most, with you and Allezin.”

They’d make a very small group, then. A shadow puppet as their scout and intelligence, Stelia working as a fire mage, Allezin functioning as their primary fighter, and Isen navigating. They’d be able to move faster as a small party, though they’d probably be limited by Stelia’s pace. He doubted she could conjure a fiery mount like Welco’s shadow steed.

“Let me take Mira,” Isen said. Carrying the queen’s young body wouldn’t tire him.

Stelia hesitated before unfastening the harness and fixing the queen to Isen’s back. The young girl’s body felt warm through the fabric of his dark cloak. Did she have a fever?

Allezin’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Let’s go. If the situation devolves, both of you”—he looked to Isen and Stelia—“should climb onto my back so I can run away from trouble.”

“Okay,” Stelia murmured. Her hands steadily pulled her hair into a tail. After, she cupped the divine fire between her hands.

The warrior slid on his helmet and tipped his head to Isen. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

When Isen, Allezin, and Stelia left with Mira, Welco knew it was time to move.

The missive he’d received in his room was a deliberate summons. He needed to pay the divine beast a visit.

Technically, he could have ignored the note, but that would be taken as a betrayal of their partnership. And also, potentially an admission of guilt, should Dray suspect him of foul play.

So, rather than going to Clan Femera with his true body, he sent a shadow puppet. Meanwhile, he descended into the dark depths of the city. He’d gone this way many times over the past weeks. The drayavin and their tamed monsters could enter the city through a few avenues, but none were more convenient than the Lowerdeep. However, someone needed to let them into the city from the other side.

As he traveled, a cold sense of foreboding threatened to consume him. If he fled, and Dray marked him as a traitor, they’d hunt him—and his clan—down relentlessly. Dray loved an excuse for a good hunt, especially when their quarry was an elf. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dray had monsters watching the already escaped Femera mages.

If Welco didn’t flee, and kept up appearances, then he had to come in person to see the tier four. He’d banked on the divine beast arriving in a display of bombastic might, clashing with Devon Aran. Not sneaking into the city through the Lowerdeep, playing the cautious game, taking advantage of the Lowerdeep’s enchantments—and the natural power of Eldrassin’s white rock—to hide itself from Devon Aran’s senses.

And certainly not asking to meet with him, a lowly tier three shadow mage.

But the divine beast had made the request, and one did not simply send a shadow puppet to greet the head of the Dray Anarchate.

Welco didn’t know what to expect from the encounter. He rubbed nervously at his chest, a reflexive motion that only highlighted how vulnerable he was after the loss of his locket and shirt, even if they’d have been useless anyway.

He wondered if he’d been a fool for siding with Dray, but it had been the only viable option, before he’d known the queen was alive. He reminded himself that he’d never have gotten the cosmovault without the temporary alliance.

Besides, even though Lumina was back, she wasn’t her old self. She wasn’t a proper tier four, and lacked the strength to defend her own city. The best she could hope for was to evacuate, keeping the prototypes out of the clutches of the warring tier fours, and recuperate her strength, getting revenge at a later date.

And... she was currently insensate.

There had to be a way for Welco to pull everything off—satisfy Dray, thwart the Aran Empire, rescue the queen... and get out of this calamity with his life, while safeguarding the lives of his clan.

It was hard not to feel overwhelmed by the burden. Still, he smiled.

Still, he went into the dark.

He traveled through the watery tunnels, scouting ahead to find the divine beast, though stopping his puppets long before reaching it, unwilling to commit offense.

The nest of ice was a dead giveaway. Freezing the rough, energy-rich waters of the Lowerdeep was a feat in itself, the water resisting external influence. A tier three wouldn’t be able to pull it off—at least not on such a grand scale. The ice floe was large enough to take up the entire passage after a certain point. It would be impossible to miss, if anyone came to inspect this part of the Lowerdeep.

Welco pitied anyone unlucky enough to do so.

His body jittery with nerves, Welco calmed himself and steadied his aura, exuding an air of false confidence. Then, he approached the ice. The nest looked like someone had formed a chamber by freezing towering, cresting waves facing opposite directions. Up close, it resembled a pair of jaws with wickedly curving fangs.

Within lay the divine beast, hidden from outside observation. Only when Welco rounded the outside edge did he see a white furred form, visible because of his shadow aspect enhanced vision. Its two eyes, slanted and narrow, cracked open, exuding an aura of absolute cold, of a paradoxical tempest that brought everything it touched to stillness.

Welco knew it was a test of sorts, and not an actual attack. That wasn’t enough to dispel the splinters of fear the beast’s aura needled into his soul. Somehow, he resisted the urge to shudder as he took a knee. “Welco Femera greets the Divine Beast of the North.”

The beast shifted, revealing a long torso, too long, reminding Welco of a weasel, or even a snake. It sat on its front legs, its head reaching down on a long, sinuous neck. It stared at him with those ghastly white eyes, its aura unabating.

“Welco Femera... we meet at last.”