Colossal branches filled with gilded leaves and crimson crystalline flowers shear across the northern sky towering over the blue-leaved forest of Cal Anore. Rooted in the north, the gold canopy consumes a quarter of the visible universe.
“What do I tell your House, Patriarch?” Zirzol asks in hushed tones. He speaks faster in Malbolge than he does in common tongue. “Many are saying this is Vaelyn.”
Cenviri shakes his head. “For now, advise those who ask or show concern that the situation is being investigated. Until there is need for action, all members of the House are to remain within the walls of Cal Anore.”
“Is this Ves?”
He meets my stare and shakes his head again.
“No,il-akiv’ae cris,” he answers, turning his face to the sky once again. “I believe this is Chaos.”
Chaos, the primordial whose very nature is to destroy.
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Stepping through the doors of Illa Ysari, beams of early morning sunlight cut through the lingering fog. In a couple of hours, it’llhave been a full two days since we stepped onto Illa Ysari.
And in that time, the island has changed.
The fog isn’t as thick anymore. The halls devoid of dust and debris.
I can’t help but think that’s because of Ves.
The old magic constructs are working and preparing the citadel forher.
Despite the fog not being as thick, it’s still impossible to see if the golden branches hang over Illa Ysari. The morning light brightening the world doesn’t help matters either.
A short distance ahead, silvery-blue figures take shape, revealing themselves from the gardens on either side of the stone path. Wearing what appears to be heavy canvas gloves and wide-brimmed hats, several dozen old magic constructs begin to line the walkway.
They turn their shrouded faces in our direction.
Fixing their sightless stares on Ves.
They pause for her.
With a downward glance, I find her still asleep in my arms. She’s been swept into dreams by a dreamweaver and held there by the burning candle Eve carries. Slow-blooming veilflowers emerge as vines creep through her hair, casting a soft blue glow over her face.
One candle won’t be enough to suppress all her Aether, especially here, but it’s enough to keep it from consuming her. The farther we get from these grounds imbued with Aether, the safer she’ll be. It’ll be easier for her to managewhoshe is without harming herself or those around her.
Cenviri provided two more candles along with the suggestion it would be better to keep her subdued for as long as possible.
Better for whom?
Certainly not Ves.
I’m not going to do that. I’m not keeping her trapped.
The necromancer understood, but made it clear he would not be able to assist in her transition were I to leave Cal Anore. Staying isn’t an option. Ves and I have made promises we’re expected to keep, and I doubt she’ll want to linger here.
But getting her home will be more than a challenge. I didn’t havetime to warn the good Captain, nor do I know his schedule, but I’ll make sure he’s compensated for the trek he’s about to undertake. Until we’re far enough away, I cannot let her wake and we cannot ferry.
As the constructs drift toward the path, they line the walkway leading to the docks, clasping their hands before them. They’re seeing us off. Seeing theircreatoroff.
They listen to her, serve her, becausesheis their mother.
Under their shrouded stares, Eve sweeps ahead, black candle in hand. Its blue flame, unbothered by her swift movement, burns bright. She takes lead, forcing me to follow in her wake else fall outside of the candle’s reach.
The constructs watch, their chins dipping in reverence as I pass, as if they know she can’t be here now. I can’t explain it, but it feels a lot like a funeral procession, despite Ves breathing in my arms.
