Chapter 23

“The whole universe is united under a single flag, its people working in harmony and unity towards a greater tomorrow. Unparalleled heights of advancement in technology, magic, and understanding. Then it’s all gone, and all that remains are scraps. In prehistory, before any one of our species had achieved interstellar travel or communication, the Aions existed and had an empire that spanned the entire known universe. They were at the height of their power, unstoppable, insurmountable, and yet from the height of their power, they vanished almost overnight. Every living Aion disappeared, and they seem to have taken every effort to purge all trace of their civilization from the galaxy so that their empire could never be recreated. 

The only place that any part of the Aion civilization remains is inside the vaults that they specifically prepared to be left behind. Almost everything that we know about them, we learned from these vaults. Almost everything that we know about anything, we learned from these vaults. Every one of them was a jump-start for a civilization, to bring it towards the level that they once lived at. From their writings, we were able to develop our systems of progression, our means of interacting with magic. Using their words, we learned to cast the spells that allow our civilizations to function at all. We owe them everything. Yet we know nothing about them.”

—Forgotten Apocalypse, Chel Malencia

The Cruiser from the Dusont Cluster was a thing of beauty, like a graceful swan grown from elegant swoops of crystal, shimmering in the dying light of the double sunset. The only thing that could have made a machine like that look ugly was the expression on Malachai’s face when he saw it. Like he was standing face to face with his own executioner.

“I’m sorry that it came to this.” Sylvas didn’t fully understand his friend’s misery, but he was doing his best to support him all the same.

“There was no other option, and I am a man devoted to his duty above all else. Even when I find that duty… distasteful.”

As the ship touched down, whoops and cheers sounded from the Ardent in all quarters. All of them except for Vaelith and Kerbo, who stood forward to make the official greetings, and from the little cluster of support around Malachai. 

The gangway didn’t so much descend from the side of the ship once it had made its graceful touch down as it grew organically into place before the once-solid side of the ship rippled away out of sight to unleash the knights of Dusont, all garbed in their pearlescent armor with plumes atop their pointed helms. They wouldn’t have looked out of place back on Sylvas’ home world with all their capes and finery. With the royal guard suitably deployed, a man who looked not entirely unlike an older version of Malachai descended the ramp. The same hawk nose and pale eyes. The same rich skin and hair carved close to his head. Everything was the same except for the smile. Sylvas could count the number of times he’d seen Malachai smile on one hand, while this man seemed to be in a state of perpetual smirking.

He strode right past Vaelith and Kerbo and greeted Malachai with open arms. “Nephew!”

Malachai was well trained in the courtly arts; nobody except for his closest friends saw him stiffen at the man’s approach. “Greetings to you, Uncle, and my thanks to you for the timely rescue.”

“Well, I could hardly leave my sister’s most beloved runt stranded out here in the back-end of the galaxy, could I? Even if he did fake his own death to avoid his duties. Duties that I must inform you are now fully reinstated. Yes, you most assuredly shall be the best man at my wedding once again. I have no idea how you thought you were going to get away with foisting it off on some cousin or other with your absconding to the Ardent and then absconding from the mortal coil.” He paused in his wide-armed approach to take a better look at Malachai. “You have absconded back to the mortal coil, haven’t you? You do still look rather sepulchral.” 

“Yes, Uncle.” Malachai didn’t even grit his teeth; he was truly impressive. “I am alive.”

“Marvellous news that I’m sure the whole family will be delighted to share in. And I’m certain that there will be some devoted illusionist, dermatologist, or cosmetologist who can make you appear to be alive also.”

Trapped in the dance of formality, he held out a hand to the others. “Uncle Simeon, these are my companions, Sylvas Vail and Kaya of the Runemaul Clan, accompanied by Miss Rania Clarendon, itinerant archaeologist.”

“An absolute delight to make your acquaintance, Runemauls and Clarendons. I would say that I hope that you have been taking good care of my nephew in the absence of his bodyguards, but it is patently obvious that you have not, given the state of his once stately appearance.”

Sylvas forced himself into a half-bow, mostly to keep his immediate loathing for this man out of sight. Malachai hadn’t made any comment about his scarred appearance. He had been extremely stoic about the whole thing. So the fact that this man, whom Malachai clearly held no love for, immediately started attacking his appearance made Sylvas think very little of the new arrival. “Your gracious nephew has saved our lives with equal frequency, Lord Dusont.”

“Archduke Dusont,” he corrected with a sudden chill in his voice. “Has my nephew entirely failed to mention me?”

“He’s too polite,” Kaya said absentmindedly. Then she froze in horror as she realized what had just slipped out. There was a reason why she wasn’t meant to be a part of the meet-and-greet party.

“Beg your pardon, madam?” Simeon’s eyes had narrowed to razor-thin slits, and his gaze was just as sharp.

“He’s too polite to go bragging about his positions and titles,” Sylvas said quickly and precisely before things could fall any further apart. “We all know that he’s of noble birth, but he doesn’t like to make us little people feel small. Of archdukes we’ve heard very little, but of his beloved Uncle Simeon, a great deal.”

It wasn’t the best bait that he could have used, but it was enough. The archduke jumped on the suggestion that his nephew had spoken fondly of him like a starving man on a buffet table. “Of course he has always been so very stoic and proper. I can just imagine him playing down the importance of being the crown prince of the cluster so as not to hurt the feelings of… what was it, asteroid miners?”

“While my dear friend Kaya was blessed to be born among such stout, hardworking folk, I’m afraid that I was not so fortunate.” Sylvas didn’t know that Mira could seize control of his voice the way that she was doing now, nor that she could force it to do such a good impression of him. “Alas, when I departed my homeworld, I was first among the Harbingers, the organization in charge, like Dusont’s royal court? It is difficult to find direct equivalents in your own culture, but I suppose that would have made me something like your king?”

What the hell are you doing, Mira?

“Though, of course, since our departure from our respective beginnings, we have since become such invaluable courtiers to the ruling Council of the Empyrean that we have direct access to them and the freedom to speak with their authority, which… once again, attempting to find the local equivalent for ease of translation, would make us approximately equal to… you? Though, of course, your kingdom comprises a cluster of a half-dozen stars and the Empyrean encompasses much of the known galaxy.” Sylvas’ face contorted into something like a smile. “Which I suppose means that when we meet, the one who should be bowing and scraping is not us.”

Kaya tugged on Sylvas’ sleeve as the color drained from Simeon’s face. “I understood about none of that.”

“I was just informing the big fish from the small pond that he’s out in the ocean with the sharks now and that baring his teeth at us is liable to be the last thing he’ll ever do.” Mira spoke louder than she really should have, making sure that Simeon could hear every word. Not that politeness would let him acknowledge them.

Malachai spoke up. “Matters of etiquette aside, we should get these Ardent on board and get moving. There is a lot that we still have to do before the day is out.”

“Nothing could be truer, dear nephew.” Simeon looked incredibly relieved to have something to latch onto other than what Mira had just told him. “Let us get you and your friends underway, and we can discuss matters of good manners and breeding in more appropriate environs.”

The ship was large enough that all the Ardent who had accompanied Sylvas to the Temple World and all the rest that he’d picked up on Strife could be stowed away into cabins without any spilling out into the common areas of the ship. Only Kerbo and Vaelith remained with Sylvas and the others as they proceeded to the bridge of the ship, where they were introduced to its captain and crew perfunctorily before being shunted off into some sort of dining hall that was as big as the mess had been back on the Basquiat but reserved exclusively for Simeon and his guests. There was food laid out for them before they arrived, a smorgasbord of foodstuffs that Sylvas and company had never really been rich enough to try, except for Malachai, who had no interest.

Darling, if you don’t mind ceding control of your body for a half hour or so, I believe there are some little treats I’d quite like to gorge myself on.

“No treats,” Sylvas grumbled to himself. “You’re already in trouble after taking control uninvited earlier.”

Oh, come now, darling, you know as well as I do that simpering nobles like this Simeon respond best to a firm hand. It doesn’t do to let them think they’re better than you, or they start treating you like they are, and then we end up with blood on our hands, don’t we?

“Please, help yourselves.” Simeon gestured broadly to the feast. “Plenty more where that came from once we reach the cluster. And wine, we should definitely have wine, to celebrate the wayward son’s return home.”

Rania leaned in close to Sylvas, and he caught a hint of her perfume. It sent him spiraling off into fond memories before her words snapped him back. “Isn’t the cluster in the complete opposite direction to where we’re going?”

“That… is a very good point.”

Malachai seemed to have cottoned on to the problem, too. “Uncle, given the rather drastic nature of current events, it may be advantageous if we head straight to our destination rather than making a stop back home.”

Darling, you owe me a little repayment. I very politely left your body so that you and your girlfriend could have some privacy earlier. Do you have any idea how bored I was?

“I’ve no doubt that you’d prefer to go off on another touring holiday immediately, dear nephew, but the fact remains that Her Majesty the Queen dispatched this ship to fetch you and your friends home to the safety of the cluster where such matters as your next journey can be discussed.” Simeon plopped himself into the seat at the head of the table and held out a hand for a glass of wine to be handed to him by one of the many servants who had come shuffling in behind the group.

“Actually,” Vaelith added before Sylvas could object to them being abducted, “we need to talk about where you’re planning on taking us next.”

Kerbo sighed but nodded his assent, too, sinking into a chair by Simeon’s side and accepting the proffered wine. “Plans only work if we all know them.”

With no small amount of reluctance, Sylvas sat down at the table, flanked by the girls. Malachai was left to make his own decision about where he wanted to position himself, eventually electing to slip into the chair beside Kaya, somewhere in between his uncle and Sylvas. He politely accepted a glass of wine at about the same time Kaya bit directly into the shell of some massive crab leg that was barely in her reach. Simeon shuddered in revulsion. “We actually do have some cutlery on board that would allow you access to the meat without having to chew through the shell.”

The metal that had been coating Kaya’s teeth retreated back into her gums. “Got it covered, thanks.”

Darling, I really do need you to let me taste some of this. When am I ever going to have the opportunity again? I know that you need to be in the room and have the adult conversations with this simpering buffoon and your old war-mates, but I believe that I’ve got a solution.

“What?” Sylvas only managed to get that much out before he was forcibly kicked out of his own body. In a wash of blood, the eidolon was rejected from his flesh, swirling in a gory spiral across to a seat beside Kerbo before it formed into a body identical to his own. He sat, stunned, for a long and awful moment as everyone stared, then he looked across at his mirror image. Mira smirked at him and then reached for the butter sauce and a shrimp fork. He cleared his new throat. “Sorry… everyone… I uh… you know what, it doesn’t matter, let’s talk plans.”

“No, sorry.” Rania turned out to be the one who couldn’t let it pass. “Why are there two of you?”

“Because…” Sylvas wasn’t even sure how he was going to explain.

Mira piped up, “Because Mira wants to eat, and he can’t talk with my mouth full.”

“So… just how many of you can there be now?” Vaelith asked with mounting concern.

“Just the two of us… I think?” Sylvas replied, chancing a glance in his other half’s direction as he spoke, quickly seeing Mira nod his head and hold up two fingers while shoving more shellfish into her mouth and moaning.

“Perhaps we can focus on the matter at hand?” Malachai politely redirected the conversation. “There has been a catastrophic incursion affecting all of the known universe simultaneously. We believe that the cause is a breakdown in the dimensional barrier that the Aions raised as a bulwark against the eidolons in antiquity.”

Rania tore her eyes away from Sylvas’ gorging body, and her eyes seemed to light up now that they were onto her specialist subject. “With the added context we’ve gotten on the temple world and what we’ve learned from the information the seekers had gathered, it appears that the Aions knew that the eidolons were an existential threat and deliberately removed them from our universe. However, it seems that they always knew that it was a temporary fix, but they were hoping it would last long enough for a permanent one to surface.”

“The Starbreaker,” Kaya and Sylvas said together.

“The what now?” Kerbo must have been feeling like the conversation was entirely leaving him behind.

Malachai’s eyes darted from the Ardent to his uncle, who was playing up his innocence, lounging in the chair and drinking copiously as though the conversation had nothing to do with him. The necromancer curtly replied to Kerbo, “We’re still gathering information on that.” 

“The Aions had some degree of precognition, and they seem to have tracked out the events of this mage’s future life.” Rania had pulled a slate out, and with a tap from Kaya, all of their gathered data was projected above the dining table in an illusion. “Unfortunately, they’ve decided to give it to us in the form of choppy poetry prophecy instead of anything concrete.”

The prophecy took shape above them, first in the form of Aion writing, then translated.

Born of a pyre ten thousand souls strong. When stars are right, his home will die.

Hollow of heart; black hunger unending. Eater of light. Vanquishing kings.

Doom in hand; pour loose the sands of time. Ender of hope. Feller of storms.

Twinmaidens blood stains; on sorrowful soles. Fast claimed war’s domain. Glad of war. Glad of pain.

Beast eyes close for him. Vault’s gates open.

Starbreaker, thrice named.

Starbreaker, awake.

Thy legend was born in the shadow of the beast.

Marked with their sign. All dust in the wind.

Thy strength was forged in the shadow of the beast.

Strength within. Echoes without.

Loathe greatest of all when beasts’ shadows are gone.

No longer in shadow, the shadow in thee.

Breaker of stars, devourer of gods. Haunted triumphs none would crave.

Quake thee with thy tyrant’s gift.

Soulless flesh bars paths you seek.

Blossom wide the heart of stone.

Starbreaker awaken what lies beneath.

Blind eyes closed, but all-seeing. What was broken, mend and shatter.

Orphan child, man of letters, tower keeper, castle feller.

Body render, never feeling. What was severed, consume.

Left hand hunger. Right devour.

Starbreaker, death’s victor.

Starbreaker, world eater.

Starbreaker, awake.