Chapter 41:

  Eli’s words lingered in the room like a dense fog, heavy and cold, pressing against the walls and settling over the table between them. It felt as though a small storm cloud had settled inside the chamber itself, hanging low over the table and refusing to move.

  And yet, Gabriel and Sela watched in silence as their son pulled out an enchanted cup, lifted it to his lips, and took a sip of water.

  It was such an ordinary action in the face of all the absurd claims he had made. The boy who had spoken about fleets of flying ships hanging suspended above the planet, of cities being turned into crucibles of war, and people being harvested for mana like their towns and villages were crystal deposits. The boy who had painted that brutal picture was the same boy now drinking quietly, like he had simply told a long story, not prophesied a coming global genocide.

  Gabriel had not shifted in his chair. His posture remained straight as a stave, his hands folded loosely before him, but the focus in his eyes had sharpened into something almost predatory. Sela leaned forward slightly, her fingers still steepled in front of her, her gaze fixed on Eli with intensity.

  Eli carefully lowered the cup to the table. The action was measured; the metal cup didn’t make a sound as it was placed against the polished wood. Eli looked at it for a moment, let the silence linger as he did his best to prepare himself for what he needed to say.

  “In those dreams,” he said quietly, “the people of Vereth did not submit. Not at first. When the ships appeared in the sky and the command was made, most people thought it might be some sort of trick. A bluff, or an illusion. A show of force meant to scare people into obedience.”

  His cold fingers wrapped around the metal cup. He channelled a touch of fire mana into it and felt as the water inside heated. He could have just used body magic to warm his hands, but something about the warm water seeping into his hands through the smooth surface of the metal was grounding. Though miniscule, it eased some of the tension as he lost himself in memories he’d once hoped to forget.

  “At first people were confused, and wary,” Eli continued. “Cities shut their gates. Noble houses started calling their blades and mages back. Banners were raised and message relays were installed everywhere with such speed the guilds could not keep up.” A faint, bitter smile flickered over his face before his expression evened out once more. “We made a lot of coin, you and I.” Eli looked at his mother, before his eyes once more focused on the cup in his hands.

  “Where technology did not reach, messengers rode day and night carrying commands, warnings, and demands for explanations. However, in the end, nobody took the threat seriously. Sure, they might come and take a territory or two. Perhaps provoke an empire and face the wrath of our planet’s more powerful protectors. The Families, and behind them, their Primus. While many were scared their territory or people would become collateral damage in one fight or another, nobody truly believed the people in the space-ships would or even could start a war against the entire world.

  “Conquer Vereth? All of it, all at once? It sounded ridiculous. Impossible.”

  At the time, it had truly seemed like empty threats made to intimidate Verethians into giving up without a fight. The people of Vereth refused to fall for it. Vereth had seen wars before. Kingdoms rose and fell, borders shifted, empires fought and broke apart, but there had always been limits. Wars were fought between nations, between rival powers with something to gain and something to lose. The bigger the fight, the more the casualties. Even with Primus’ on the battlefield opposing Primus’ would come to engage the threat, and casualties would only increase from there.

  Did these fools have so many lives to spend they thought they could war against the whole world? Well then, let them come and learn their folly.

  “So, we prepared for war. The kind of war we understood,” Eli said. “The Houses, from 5th Step to 1st, with very few exceptions, they gathered their blades and mages. Cities raised militias and even the unawakened were conscripted. All across Vereth wards were made stronger, food and healing were secured. Some rulers even tried to send envoys for negotiations.”

  He shook his head slightly.

  “To those few who managed to send a message, the invaders never answered.

  “All while the world prepared, those ships remained where they were, high above the world like silent watchers. They didn’t move,” Eli said quietly. “They did not even try to stop us from preparing.

  “They did not send armies down, did not try to attack from range, they did not do anything. They just stayed there. Above it all.”

  In retrospect, for Eli, that period of silence had been a period he deeply regretted. He was so foolish. He’d wasted so much time. He could have done more. He should have done more. Maybe then? No. He couldn’t think like that. He had done what he had done, and unlike his past future self, he had a chance to change it.

  He would do better this time. His fists clenched around the cup. The sturdy metal easily held up to the abuse of an unenhanced seven-year-old.

  “After a time, more Houses began to believe the whole thing was fake. These invaders were all flash and no impact. If they had not made a move yet, it was because they were scared, or they knew they were too weak.

  “If they wanted us to bend the knee, they needed to take us all out in one fell swoop. Surely, they would not fight us all at once.”

  “True, the ships stayed where they were. The invaders never descended in force. Weeks passed. Then months. People began to relax. Verens began to turn their might against each other once more. While many said everyone should unite and prepare for war, others argued that there would be no big fight. If there was, then let them come. At worst, when we lost we would give up tribute, or territory.

  “Most people still believed they were facing an enemy they understood. That this was like a war with another empire, another power.”

  His gaze drifted briefly across the table. He looked at his parents as he continued. “They were right, and they were very, very wrong.”

  The truth had been devastating.

  “It was not the invaders who struck first,” Eli said. “It was the Families.”

  The sentence settled heavily in the room. He could see his father stirring, his mother’s face scrunching as she prepared to speak. Eli continued before either could interrupt.

  “They had been preparing for a long time. Much longer than anyone realized,” Eli said. The haze of memory thickening around him. “The moment the noble houses let down their guard, the Families moved. They used confusion as cover. Everyone was gathering their forces, it was only natural the Families do the same.” Eli shook his head. His voice coming out through clenched teeth.

  “They had advantages no one understood. Knowledge that had been hidden. Techniques that had never been taught beyond their bloodlines, and those unquestionably bound to them. Resources had been quietly flowing into their territories for generations.

  “While the rest of Vereth was scrambling to prepare, the Families had been ready to strike for decades.

  “The first attacks were on their allied houses. Those 2nd and 3rd Step Houses who weren’t bound by mana contracts, those who were once favoured – they were given a choice. Bend the knee or die. Without exception, any who refused were wiped out in a single wave.

  “Strongholds were taken overnight. Entire Houses were eradicated, down to the last infant. Commanders who tried to resist were assassinated before they could sound an alarm. Only those bound to Families and under strict magical geas, and life-binding contracts were allowed to live, on bended knee.”

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  Eli remembered that betrayal had unfolded so fast nobody knew it had happened before the Families were already making their next moves.

  “Entire regions collapsed before they even knew they were under attack,” Eli continued. “One day a 5th Step House would be preparing to defend its borders. The next day its capital would already be occupied by forces wearing the banners of the very Houses they had sworn to.”

  The fire truly had come from inside the house. The Families burned down all they could with ruthless efficiency, and a complete lack of restraint.

  Eli’s voice remained steady, though inside him, his mana churned with a restless fervor that mimicked his true feelings.

  “The Families turned their swords against their own world.” he said quietly. “We had been crippled, and the invaders did not even lift a finger.”

  That realization had shattered any illusion of unity faster than most alliances could even form.

  “By the time people understood what was happening, it was already too late,” Eli continued. “Cities that should have been allies were already fighting each other. Armies that should have joined forces were too busy defending themselves from betrayal to even try and organize.”

  “On the Northern Continent, some kingdoms collapsed in weeks. More than one of the Eastern Islands were wiped out. Civilizations that had lasted millennia were crippled before they could even respond.”

  “We thought then that the worst had happened. That we had already been dealt the biggest blow. So, the people of Vereth didn’t unite,” Eli said quietly. “Many regions fought alone. Some tried to form alliances, but they rarely lasted. Old grudges won out. Paranoia and betrayal were rampant. Borders were disputed. Some rulers believed they would survive if their neighbors fell first.” His lips pressed together, and it a moment before he could unclench his jaw.

  The betrayal of the Families had poisoned everything.

  “Chaos,” Eli said softly. “It was chaos and carnage, and above us, watching from somewhere beyond the sky, the invaders had still not moved.

  “They did not need to,” Eli continued. The people of Vereth were already doing their work for them.

  The true war had yet to begin, and already Vereth was tearing itself apart.

  “Until that point, very few had submitted to the invaders. Only small settlements and individuals. Most of them were taken by the Families or beaten down by stronger forces. After the betrayal some of the powers decided they would bend the knee. They believed if they obeyed, they might be spared.” Eli shook his head quietly. He could not blame them. However, he could never have been one of them.

  “Some chose to fight no matter what,” he said. Those early decades, the disparate groups that had managed to organize themselves were not yet the Unified Resistance. They were instead random groups made up of people like Eli. Those who refused to kneel.

  “At first we were just scattered groups,” Eli explained. “Soldiers who survived the First Betrayal. Mages who refused to serve the Families. Villagers that fled into the wilderness and did not want to be yet another refugee flooding the Contested Lands.”

  They had fought where they could. Sometimes against the Families or their lackies. Sometimes against each other. However, as the years stretched to decades, and they began to fight against the invaders themselves, they reached an understanding.

  “In those early years, there were dozens – maybe hundreds – of groups made up of people that bound together to fight back.”

  His gaze drifted slightly.

  Different groups had different goals. Some wanted to overthrow the Families. Some wanted to drive the invaders away. Some simply wanted revenge. It had taken many years before those fractured groups began to cooperate at all.

  “We came together much later. After too many people had died. Five clusters of two or more hundred could make a fighting force of a thousand. Ten or twenty groups could make a small army. Those who had were still alive and fighting were either the strongest of the strong, or those with the great fortune or misfortune to have survived until that point.

  “By then there were so few of us left that if we did not work together, there would not have been enough to fight.”

  The memories pressed in harder now. Eli’s breathing had grown shallower.

  “In those visions, I fought. From the First Betrayal to that final battle. I fought.” His eyes were unfocused, his voice soft.

  “I remember marching until my feet blistered and bled, not even able heal myself in case it gave us away. I remember weaving spell after spell, my head splitting and my channels so raw each new cast was like acid. I remember sleeping on bare ground with armor still on in case the enemy came again at night. I remember the way the air smelled before another battle started.”

  Like dust, and smoke. Like hastily washed bodies, and the distinct scent of mana. The room blurred around the edges of Eli’s vision. The memories kept coming. Relentless as they battered at the boy, one after the other.

  “I fought for years. I fought and killed and watched as our world was consumed, bit by bit. I watched cities fall and armies disappear. I watched people die. So many people. I lost friends. I lost teachers, and mentors, and annoying comrades I never thought I would miss.

  “And you…” His voice faltered. Petered out as his eyes finally focused once more. This time on his parents.

  “Mother, Father. You were gone too soon.” His voice was a whisper now. “I held your bodies. What was left of them.

  “I built your pyres, and I knelt beside them as they burned.” His own knees ached in sympathy where they rested on the padded chair. “I remember staying there so long the fire burned down to ashes. I remember using my power to still the wind so that what little of you remained would not blow away. I remember- I remember-”

  Warm arms suddenly wrapped around him.

  Eli blinked.

  For a moment he seemed unsure where he was. The chamber came back to him slowly: the table, the subtle pressure of the wards in the walls, the faint scent of polished wood and something distinctly familiar. His mother.

  At some point Sela had crossed the room, and without him even noticing she had pulled him against her chest. One arm wrapped firmly around his shoulders while the other cradled the back of his head. Eli did not startle. He did not stiffen or pull away.

  Instead, he simply leaned into her. Like a cord pulled tight for too long and finally snapping loose, the tension drained out of Eli all at once. His small body melted against her as though the strength had gone out of it entirely.

  A moment later Eli felt his father’s broad hand against his back. Its warm weight a steady presence between the boy’s shoulders.

  Eli’s eyes closed briefly. When they opened again, they were red around the edges, his nose stinging faintly from the pressure in his chest.

  No tears came. They hadn’t for a very long time.

  The three of them stayed like that for several quiet moments while the storm of memory slowly receded.

  Eventually Sela eased back enough to look at him. Her expression was difficult to read. There was concern there, and compassion, and something else, something like the careful focus of a scholar standing before a problem that had no clear answer.

  “I…” she began, then stopped.

  For perhaps the first time in Eli’s life, his mother seemed briefly at a loss for words.

  “I don’t quite know what to say about what you’ve just told us,” Sela admitted quietly. “What I do know is that if even a fraction of what you’ve described is true. Eli.” She shook her head as she searched for words before carefully continuing. “If I am to understand you correctly, you believe that these dreams – these visions you’ve been having – are real. You believe they are glimpses of the future.”

  Eli met her eyes.

  “I know they are,” he said. Sela’s brow tightened slightly.

  “Eli,” she began, “I believe that you believe that-”

  “No. Mother, Father. I know they are.”

  For a moment the room fell silent again, then, almost like they had rehearsed it, Sela pulled away, and Gabriel stepped back half a pace. The angle of the conversation had changed. Eli was acutely aware of both of them standing close on either side, scrutinizing him mostly with worry, but also with some curiosity and intrigue.

  They weren’t exactly confronting him, but the familiar way they were boxing him in made him feel the need to sit up straighter and confess. His abrupt straightening out sent aching pain through his knees and recently abused legs. He had remained kneeling against the seat so he could look over the table comfortably. After the exhaustion of telling his story, he no longer felt the need to maintain that position.

  Carefully he lowered himself onto the chair, folding his legs cross-legged beneath himself. The movement was unceremonious, childlike, but it carried a distinct heaviness. The effort of holding himself upright and composed for so long had clearly drained him.

  Eli pulled the spatial pouch closer to himself, and his parents, as if sensing the change in atmosphere, both took the seats on either side of him. Both of them followed their son’s gaze.

  It was the moment of truth. Up until this point the story Eli had told could remain just that. A story. Yes, the words had been said, and his parents might even believe him, but there was still some uncertainty. Without proof, Eli’s words were just that words.

  He rested his hands on the bag for a moment, feeling the soft texture of the well treated leather.

  Looking at the well made but innocuous pouch, Gabriel broke the silence. “What have you brought?” He asked.

  “Proof,” Eli said.

  For the first time since he had begun speaking, a resolute steadiness returned to his expression.

  Of course he had come with proof.

  His parents trusting him implicitly and his parents failing to do their due diligence were two entirely different things. Gabriel Rodrigo did not lead soldiers into battle based on faith alone, and Sela Rodrigo did not rebuild a kingdom’s magical defenses on little more than belief.

  Eli had never expected them to.

  He reached into the bag and pulled out the enchanted map he had used to track the convoy the night before.

  “Father, at breakfast you asked me a question,” Eli said, lining up the map with a specific section of the heavily enchanted table. “Let me tell you about last night.”

  With a small push of mana, the map and the table connected. In the centre the flat image displayed on the map expanded into a much larger three-dimensional version.