Chapter 13: Act I Chapter 13: The Gathering

Chapter 13: The Gathering

Wren was waiting in the same clearing they trained at, her usual scabbard and bag strapped to her back. Enya herself hadn’t been sure of what to bring, so she’d packed a little more than she thought she’d need. Personally she thought it was a bit excessive—her bag was quite heavy, and the straps dug into her shoulders—but Nadine had insisted on packing extra food “just in case things go to shit,” as she’d said.

Wren raised an eyebrow at the size of her bag, but didn’t comment. “You ready?”

Enya nodded, tightening her fingers around the straps. “Where is the gathering?”

The woman jerked her head behind them. “The Caeril Empire.”

Enya blinked and wondered if she should have packed even more. “Oh. That’s… far.” The Caeril Empire was situated to the north of Reyin, but Acrine village was in the south of the country, near the border with Lysmere. They would have to traverse all of Reyin to reach Caeril.

Wren chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’re not walking.” She took a step closer and reached out a hand. “Do you trust me?”

Enya stared at the callused hand, littered with old cuts and scars, and took it, nodding. Wren smiled. “Hang on,” she said, and her body began to glow crimson. Enya’s eyes widened as magic spiraled around the woman before it spread around her as well, enveloping her in a soft glow. It felt like a cool breeze wrapping around her, and when Enya looked down, she realized they were rising upwards. Her feet dangled over the ground and the canopy drew closer as the sensation of wind grew stronger. Soon they were just below the canopy, eye level with the tips of the trees, and Wren glanced back at Enya. She gripped the Ark’s hand tighter and nodded slowly. 

The aura surrounding them flared, and in the next moment, the two of them shot through the sky. Enya squeezed her eyes shut on reflex, the air beating against her face as they raced upwards. By the time they slowed down and she opened her eyes again, she was surrounded with blue. Turning her head in awe, it took a moment to reorient herself. Enya looked down and realized they were flying above the clouds.

“I wish I could show you the view,” Wren said, “but being seen would be troublesome. Maybe another day, sometime at night when there’s less people around.” She turned to face Enya. “Comfortable?”

Enya nodded. After the initial surge upwards, they’d settled into an even pace. If she closed her eyes, she could barely even tell that they were moving. “Is this motion magic?” She knew more advanced practitioners were capable of such feats, but she’d only been able to use it to boost her speed. Maren had sometimes moved objects, but it was usually in quick bursts of motion. Nothing like this sort of steady, sustained control.

“Yep. I was actually a motion affinity, before awakening,” Wren said. “I’ve got a tad better control with it than most, I’d say.” The clouds seemed to speed below, passing in white blurs, and yet, save for the push of wind against her face, there was no rocking to their movement. “Like this, we should get there in a few hours.”

Enya glanced down, only able to catch brief glimpses of the ground beneath them from occasional gaps in the clouds. She swallowed. “Is…are all the Arks going to be there?”

“I can call for a gathering, but that doesn’t mean everyone’s going to show up. I already have a good idea of who’s going to be there.” She glanced back. “Aeon won’t be there, don’t worry. She tends to operate separately from the rest of us.”

“I see.” Enya felt her shoulders relax. “Do you know who will be?”

Wren hummed in thought. “Caspian will definitely show up, and there’s a 50/50 chance that Virgil and Gaia do. Other than them, the first three should be there as well.”

“The first three?”

“Oriana, Rigel, and Brunhilde. They’re the oldest Arks, and they house the fragments of the first three gods respectively. The Arks aren’t properly organized or anything, but they function as the leaders, especially Oriana.” She chuckled. “They’re the most powerful, so everyone knows better than to pick a fight with them. You’ll see what I mean.”

Enya nodded in understanding. The hierarchy between the Arks seemed to similar to the one between the twelve gods. While all twelve were worshiped together, the first four were the oldest and considered the reigning gods. She paused. “What about the Ark with the Fourth’s fragment?”

“Ah, right, you don’t know.” Wren stared ahead at the unending expanse of blue. “You’ve probably already guessed it, but the Arks were the ones responsible for the Rebirth, not the actual gods.”

Over half a millennia ago, the Rot had once again expanded to a critical state. The Shattering had reset its advance, but over the centuries it grew again, an endless cycle of decay plaguing the land. In that year, it was said that the old capital of Lysmere was completely destroyed and sunk to the bottom of the ocean by Decays. The only thing that had saved the rest of Elaren from a similar fate was the appearance of the half reformed gods, who fought off the Rot again and once again pushed back its advance. 

That event, the Rebirth, was held up as a shining beacon in Elaren’s history. It was said that though the gods had scattered their souls during the Shattering, over time they would reform and return. Only some of the gods had reformed in time for the Rebirth, and the end of the battle resulted in their souls being scattered once again, but many clung to the hope that the souls would reform steadily again, and this time, once all twelve were whole, the gods would return and destroy the Rot permanently.

Enya frowned, furrowing her brow. Considering the existence of Arks, it didn’t seem like the gods reforming their complete souls was a possibility. The gods who had supposedly been present at Rebirth were the First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Tenth. Assuming those had been the Arks of those respective fragments, that would mean that the final sacrifice of the Fourth god, the one that had driven back the Rot, had actually been an Ark. She turned to face Wren hesitantly.

“Did the Ark of the Fourth die?” Wren had mentioned one other Ark having been reincarnated besides her. Maybe he was the one?

The woman shook her head. “No, but nearly. My old incarnation and the Ark of the Tenth’s first incarnation died. The Ark of the Fourth ended up using almost all of his magic to fend off the Rot, and he’s been unconscious for centuries now while his magic restores itself.”

Enya’s eyes widened. “It takes that long?”

“Not usually, no.” Wren held up a hand, flaring the magic around it. “Awakened Arks can replenish their innate magic reserves with atmospheric magic, but the process isn’t instant. It takes time depending on how much magic needs to be restored, and we suffer the same side effects as mortals do during that time frame. And of course, if all our magic gets depleted, that’s how we die.” She paused, frowning. “In Tynell’s case, he was so close to using up all his reserves that the connection between his soul and the fragment was damaged. Because of that, it’s been taking significantly longer for his magic to restore itself.” Her eyes darkened. “It’s a bit of a touchy subject for the first three, so I wouldn’t bring it up if I were you.”

Enya swallowed and nodded in understanding. She had no intentions of angering the three of them, if what Wren said about their power was true.

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. This is just meant to be a quick meeting so you can talk to some of the other Arks, maybe learn a few things.”

Enya lowered her head to look below them, peering through the clouds at the rolling hills and forests whizzing past. They were moving quickly, barely more than streaks of color, and it became apparent how soon the arrival would be. She breathed deeply, taking in the air that felt so clear up here, and did her best to relax her muscles.

“I’ll try,” she said.

—

Landing felt much the same as rising had. They shot towards the ground before slowing down once they were out of sight within the forest’s canopy, then steadily hovered down. Enya kept her eyes open this time, watching as they fell down the sky, even as the wind rushing past them stung her eyes. She felt weightless, out of control, and yet it was also oddly freeing. By the time their feet touched the ground and the glow of magic faded, Enya’s heart was beating wildly in her chest, and yet she couldn’t help but miss the sensation.

“We’re here. It’s just up ahead,” Wren said. Enya hurried to follow, taking the moment to look around at their surroundings.

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They had landed in a forest, though unlike the Emerald Forest, the trees here were mostly conifers. The grasses beneath their feet were sparser, and there was a chill in the air that hadn’t been present in Reyin. Mosses dotted the dark earth, and Enya often had to jump over and around grey stones jutting out from the ground. She wondered which of Caeril’s forests they had landed in, but before she had a chance to ask, the trees around them thinned and Wren came to a halt.

In front of them stood what looked like an old temple. Tall white stone pillars supported an overhead roof, cracks snaking around the columns and mosses climbing from their bases. A small flight of wide stairs led up to the open entrance of the temple, where there either was no door or the old one had broken away with age. The place looked like it shouldn’t be standing, and Enya was almost afraid the roof would cave in, but Wren walked forward without hesitation. She followed behind, albeit cautiously.

The interior of the temple was as old as the outside. Many of the pillars had chunks broken off, and light filtered through fractures in the ceiling. The inside was wide, expansive, and their footsteps echoed as they stepped further into the building. Wren paused, and Enya peered around her to see a figure approaching them.

The man was tall, a little over six feet, and wore layers of loose, pale robes that looked Lysmerian in design. He had pale skin and dark hair that was short at the front, but flowed long in the back, and walked with an calm, quiet sort of confidence. 

“Wren, it’s been a long time,” he greeted as he stepped closer. “How have you been?”

“Traveling around, the usual. I’ve been staying in Reyin lately.”

The man looked surprised. “Really? I didn’t think anything could keep you in one place.” His attention drifted over to Enya as he spoke. There was no hostility in his blue eyes, only curiosity. “But I suppose there were special circumstances.” He took a step closer and extended a hand, a warm smile on his face. “I’m Caspian,” he introduced. “I’m the Ark of the Tenth. It’s nice to meet you. I assume you’re the Ark of the Twelfth?” He tilted his head. “Ah, but you don’t seem to have awakened yet.”

So this was the other Ark who had been reincarnated after awakening, Enya thought. The Tenth’s death during the Rebirth was another well known tale, nearly as well known as the Fourth’s sacrifice.

Enya carefully shook the man’s hand. “I’m Enya,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “It’s an honor to meet you. Wren’s been training me.”

At Caspian’s curious look, Wren answered, “She’s trying to awaken faster. We’ve been working on improving her form magic—we were just about to start on organic materials.”

He nodded in understanding. “Well, there’s certainly no rush. I would cherish your pre-awakening days as much as I could.” He paused. “But, if you find yourself wanting some extra help, I wouldn’t mind lending some.”

“Caspian’s one of the best at form magic,” Wren explained. “Especially for using it to heal.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said lightly.

“Thank you,” Enya said gratefully.

“Did Virgil and Gaia come?” Wren asked. Caspian shook his head. Every motion the man made was tranquil. He reminded Enya of a clear, still pool of water. The Tenth was the god of the ocean, so perhaps it was to be expected. She couldn’t help but wonder if all the Arks embodied their fragment as well as Wren and Caspian so far.

“No, I haven’t seen them. That reminds me, Oriana wanted to speak with you.”

Wren smiled wryly. “I suppose I should go then.” She turned to face Enya. “Do you mind waiting here for a bit? I shouldn’t be too long.”

“I can stay here as well,” Caspian offered.

She shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I’m fine waiting. Please go ahead.” It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Caspian, but she wasn’t sure what to say to the man without Wren there. The constant aura of calmness surrounding him made him a bit difficult to approach. Even if she didn’t know he was an Ark, she probably would’ve suspected that he held some sort of high position simply by the way he spoke and carried himself. 

The two Arks exchanged glances before nodding. “Alright, we’ll be back soon. Feel free to explore a bit. It’s probably boring just standing around,” Wren said.

Enya nodded, waving as the two turned and stepped deeper into the temple, progressing forward until they vanished from her view. She dropped her hand down and took a moment to take in her surroundings, the rays of light shining softly through the broken ceiling and illuminating the stone floor. 

She was currently in what appeared to be a large entrance room that led into three connected hallways. Wren and Caspian had left through the center hallway, and after a moment of deliberation, she decided to turn right. 

As Enya walked, she could feel a faint breeze flowing through the open hallways, and she looked up in awe at the height of the ceiling. Buildings in Reyin were typically quite short; it was rare to see more than two stories, and even that was considered uncommon. This vastness was strange, unfamiliar. The place felt sacred in a way that made Enya almost nervous to be inside.

She paused as she passed a large painting hanging against the wall. Taking a few steps back to see it better, she realized it was a depiction of the Flight. Dark colors were drawn in harsh brush strokes, the people painted as small, minuscule silhouettes fleeing from a looming cloud of Rot. She looked further down the hallway and found another painting. This one portrayed the Shattering. The darkened sky from the first painting was cracked, and in the very center was a glowing orb of light shattering into smaller shards. The scenery glowed softly as it was touched with magic, and, as she looked closer, she could make out twelve larger shards of light. She frowned. Had one of the Arks painted this?

“So you’re the newcomer.”

Jerking away from the painting, Enya spun around to face the direction the voice had come from. A man was standing a little ways down the hallway. He looked about the same age as her, younger than Wren and Caspian, and had dark skin and short, curly hair. He was relatively short, though the way he held himself, head slightly upturned, gave him a significantly larger presence. He didn’t move from his position, simply staring in Enya’s direction with hard eyes.

A creeping sensation crawled up Enya’s limbs as she stared at the man, and she swallowed, her heartbeat speeding unbidden. When she glanced down, she realized her hand was trembling slightly. Her breath came in short inhales, and her mind both thrummed with activity and also felt painfully blank. She was kneeling in rubble, watching motionless as Decays destroyed the last remains of her childhood home. She was facing Aeon, dodging flying corpses, heart pounding, her own body aching with exhaustion. She was standing in Maren’s room, watching as the woman’s chest stopped moving. 

Enya tightened her hands into fists, struggling to remain upright, to chase away the cold fear that had risen inside her. But why? What reason did she have to be so afraid? Swallowing, she forced herself to face the man again, and that’s when she saw it: a faint, almost imperceptible orange glow around his fingers.

Emotion magic, she realized. She grit her teeth, digging her nails into her palms and focusing on the stinging sensation. She couldn’t cancel the magic; she didn’t have access to the mental fundamentals. In short, jerky movements, she forced her limbs to move, repeating to herself that the emotions weren’t real as she strained to reach for her sword.

“Who are you,” she managed to grit out, attention fixed on the glowing aura of magic. The man narrowed his eyes, following her gaze to his hand.

“So you figured it out,” he muttered. “You’re pretty sharp.” As he spoke, the glow faded, and with it the invisible weight lifted. Enya felt her heartbeat slow back down, and her limbs were once again her own to command. She inhaled, breathing deeply and savoring the feeling in her lungs.

Once she was certain her legs were steady, Enya didn’t hesitate to unsheathe her sword and point it at the man. “Who are you,” she repeated, voice cold. 

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you want to fight?” He took a step forward, raising a hand. A brief flash of orange glowed before crackling flames erupted from his palm. Enya felt a blast of heat from where she was standing, the air itself sizzling. The man sneered. “Just try it.”

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