Chapter 532: Chapter 520: A spawn to train

[Realm: Uhorus]

[Location: Verdantis]

[Western Outskirts]

"Ugh... this is unbearably tedious."

The complaint escaped Alyssia in an exasperated huff.

She trudged through the thick snow with obvious displeasure, gathering a small portion of the hem of her dress between her fingers so she could move with at least a little more ease. Even then, each step sank into the powder beneath her heels, forcing her to lift her feet far higher than she cared to.

She frowned at the snow as though it had personally offended her.

"Could we truly not have flown?" Another laborious step. "Or teleported?" Her tone suggested that walking had become an archaic practice humanity should have abandoned centuries ago.

Behind her, Aerinon answered in the same voice he seemed to use for everything.

"It was Lyra’s request." His boots crunched against the snow as he walked besides Lucinda. "Her exact wording was that you needed..." A tiny pause followed. "...’exercise.’"

His expression remained perfectly the same as he repeated the Court Mage’s reasoning.

Alyssia stopped just long enough to stare ahead in utter disbelief.

"What in blazes is the purpose of that?" She gestured towards herself with complete confidence. "I’m already fit."

The declaration came with such certainty that Lucinda almost smiled.

Aerinon merely gave the smallest of shrugs.

"I simply repeated what she told me, I suppose." There wasn’t the slightest attempt to defend Lyra’s reasoning, nor to argue against Alyssia’s complaint. He had delivered the message, nothing more and nothing less.

Lucinda quietly shook her head.

There was something oddly amusing about watching Alyssia wage a battle against the snow. Even after everything they had discussed over the past day and after learning truths that would leave most people speechless.

Alyssia could still become thoroughly irritated by winter.

It was strangely grounding.

The three continued onward.

The capital now lay well behind them.

They had entered the outer reaches of Verdantis, where the roads gradually gave way to open stretches of snow-covered wilderness. Rolling white hills extended in nearly every direction, with clusters of evergreen trees breaking the otherwise uninterrupted landscape.

Far beyond them, mountains disappeared into the darkened heavens, where Abyssal tears scarred the sky. Ordinarily, travellers venturing this far from the city would remain vigilant for wandering Astrothians.

The creatures had long been part of Verdantis’ wilderness. But since the appearance of the Abyssal tears, sightings had become increasingly uncommon.

One more consequence of the calamity.

The Abyss had not merely introduced new horrors; it had displaced the old ones.

Lucinda and Alyssia had long since dismissed their disguises.

Snow-white hair once again framed their faces, and ruby-red eyes stood out in the pale landscape.

Lucinda’s attention slowly wandered across the horizon; she studied the hills, the forests, the mountains and, finally, the sky. Several Abyssal tears continued to drip their unnatural black substance towards the earth below.

Most released only thin streams.

One did not.

Her eyes narrowed slightly; that particular tear bled noticeably more darkness than the others.

Far more.

("That must be where the surge of Abyssal Creatures originated.") The conclusion seemed almost obvious; her gaze shifted towards Alyssia.

The other spawn were still attempting to navigate the snow with all the enthusiasm of someone marching towards their death.

Each step seemed to deepen her irritation.

("Heels, a dress and deep snow truly are a terrible combination.")

Lucinda couldn’t help the small thought, and then her attention drifted towards Aerinon.

He walked quietly besides her; his pace never changed, his breathing remained steady, and even his posture appeared almost perfect.

Silence gradually settled between the three, not an uncomfortable silence, not yet at least. But it lingered long enough that Lucinda became increasingly aware of it. Alyssia was far too occupied being irritated with the weather to entertain conversation.

That left only Aerinon.

Lucinda hesitated.

Starting a conversation with someone who appeared so thoroughly disconnected from everything around him required careful thought. She didn’t want to force one, nor did she wish to ignore him entirely.

That somehow felt equally impolite.

For several moments she quietly searched for an appropriate topic; eventually one surfaced.

"Say... Aerinon." The Inheritor turned his head towards her. He didn’t speak; he simply waited.

Lucinda took that as permission to continue.

"The God of Darkness..." She chose her words carefully. "Xylohr was connected to the Abyss, wasn’t he?"

("Conversation",) Aerinon’s thoughts remained considerably less enthusiastic than his expression. Which was not enthusiastic at all. ("Wonderful.") His face remained entirely unreadable. ("Could we not simply allow the silence to exist?") A brief glance shifted towards Alyssia. She was still occupied glaring at the snow beneath her feet. ("The Alyssia girl clearly isn’t interested in conversation.")

Another resignation settled within him.

("Which leaves me.") His internal sigh remained entirely invisible. ("Apparently I am today’s backup conversationalist.")

Outwardly, nothing changed.

"Yes," his answer came calmly. "Xylohr was entrusted with overseeing the Abyss."

Lucinda nodded thoughtfully.

"But even knowing that..." Her eyes drifted once more towards the dark sky. "...things have deteriorated to such an extent." There was genuine confusion in her voice. "If the Abyss has grown this unstable..." She frowned slightly. "...wouldn’t one expect the God responsible for it to intervene?"

Aerinon considered the question for only a brief moment.

"There are rules." His voice remained the same. "Even Gods are bound by them." He looked ahead once more. "And regardless of their power..." His words slowed slightly. "...they possess priorities of their own."

Lucinda absorbed the answer quietly, then another question naturally followed.

"But..." She looked towards him again. "Surely the people they created would be among those priorities?"

There wasn’t accusation in her voice, but the sincere confusion was clear to hear.

"Their creations, the lives entrusted to them. Would those not come first?"

Aerinon’s gaze remained fixed ahead.

"Not necessarily." The answer arrived without hesitation. "Some responsibilities simply outweigh others." His tone carried neither approval nor criticism. "You cannot expect everyone to be driven by altruism." A brief pause followed. "Least of all the Gods."

The words seemed to sit in the cold air, and Lucinda found herself quietly frowning.

Her eyes lowered towards the snowy path before them.

("Shouldn’t it be the responsibility of the Gods to protect those they created?") The thought came almost instinctively. ("To guide them. To intervene when calamity threatens the world.")

She struggled to reconcile Aerinon’s answer with the image of the Gods she had carried throughout her life.

They possessed unimaginable power, power beyond mortal comprehension. If anyone could prevent suffering, surely it would be them.

("Then perhaps...") Her brow furrowed ever so slightly. ("...their absence has to be caused by something greater than mere priorities.")

She found herself wanting to believe that, because the alternative—

That being capable of saving countless lives, they simply chose not to.

It was a thought she found far more difficult to accept.

Aerinon’s solitary eye narrowed ever so slightly as he caught the change in Lucinda’s expression.

It was small, a crease in her brow. The way her gaze lingered on the snow rather than the path ahead and the disappointment she hadn’t voiced aloud.

He observed it for only a moment before looking forward again.

("So the thought truly bothers her that much.") The realization settled without surprise. ("The idea that the Gods choose not to involve themselves.") His footsteps continued at the same pace. ("I wonder how she arrives at that conclusion.")

His thoughts remained calm.

("Does she genuinely believe that because someone possesses overwhelming power, they automatically inherit responsibility for everyone beneath them?") He found the notion difficult to understand and almost alien. ("Power exists. What one chooses to do with it should remain exactly that, I suppose.")

A choice, nothing more and nothing less.

("Binding strength to obligation...") His expression remained as impassive as ever. ("...is a remarkably dangerous way to think.")

For a brief while, none of them spoke; only the wind accompanied them.

Then Lucinda broke the silence.

"Do you think..." Her voice was thoughtful rather than hopeful. "...that if we somehow managed to contact the Gods..." She paused briefly. "...they would actually help us if we asked?"

Aerinon considered the question, not because it required extensive thought. Rather, because allowing the silence to continue indefinitely would only make the journey more awkward.

He decided to indulge the discussion.

"The Gods reside within the Plain of Elysium." His answer came calmly. "If one were capable of ascending there..." He glanced briefly toward Lucinda. "...then yes. You could stand before them yourself."

Lucinda’s eyes widened slightly in realization.

"You mean..." Pieces of teachings slowly aligned in her mind. "...preventing the shell from forming during Arcane Ascendance." She looked ahead as she continued thinking aloud. "I’ve heard that theory mentioned before."

It had always sounded more theoretical than practical.

"But..." She frowned. "...that places an enormous burden upon the Inheritor involved." The concern in her voice was immediate. "Depending on who bears the power..." Her expression grew more serious. "...the consequences could be devastating."

Aerinon nodded once.

"Correct." There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. "It is dangerous." Another pause followed. "But at present..." He looked toward the broken skies overhead. "...it remains the only known means of reaching the Gods."

His gaze lowered again.

"Unless they themselves choose to descend," then he continued. "They have not." No emotion colored the observation, no disappointment either. "So I find it reasonable to conclude that they are content to refrain from interfering."

Lucinda looked at him.

There was something about the simplicity with which he accepted that conclusion that unsettled her more than the conclusion itself. There was no frustration in his tone.

He accepted it with complete ease, as though it had never been worth questioning.

Lucinda frowned ever so slightly.

She wasn’t certain whether she admired that detachment or found it deeply unsettling.

("He truly doesn’t seem to mind.") She quietly looked away. ("Either he genuinely doesn’t care...") Her eyes drifted across the endless snowy plains surrounding them. ("...or he’s long since stopped expecting anything different.")

She couldn’t decide which possibility saddened her more.

The conversation gradually dissolved once again, no one rushed to replace it. Only the rhythm of their footsteps remained.

Lucinda allowed herself to think.

("Until now...") She watched another stream of black liquid spill endlessly from one of the distant Abyssal tears. ("...the idea of actually seeking out the Gods had never seriously crossed my mind.")

It had always seemed impossible.

Beyond mortal reach.

Yet according to Aerinon, there was a path, a dangerous one.

But a path nonetheless.

("Perhaps there really is merit in the idea.")

If the Gods possessed answers, if they understood the Abyss and knew why the world was unraveling. Then speaking to them could change everything; her thoughts lingered there, only briefly.

Because another realization inevitably followed.

("Even then...") Her hand unconsciously tightened slightly at her side. ("If they cannot help us...") She lowered her eyes. ("...or if they choose not to...") The responsibility did not simply disappear; it merely returned to those still capable of acting.

To the Inheritors, maybe, or to Court Mages, to those willing to stand against the Abyss.

And above all...

To the spawns of Octavia.

("Then regardless of the answer...") Her resolve settled once more. ("...it would still fall to me to do everything I can.")

The thought had only just come to rest within her mind—

When Alyssia suddenly stopped walking.

Her ruby eyes fixed themselves on the distant horizon.

"There they are."