Conquest of Avalon

“The Duchess refuses your request, my lord. Guerron cannot afford the costs of a solstice feast, not with Avalon poised to attack.” Fernan’s words came slowly, a reluctance clear within them. Somehow even with blazing green flame in his eyes, he managed to look unthreatening. Frankly, it would have been impressive, were there any indication it was deliberate.

Peerage ill became him, his appearance made clear. Finely tailored robes trailed listlessly, apparently without a speck of effort put into presentation. He wore no jewelry, and he still lacked a crest. I suppose you can take the boy from the countryside, but not the inverse. The true sorespot, however, was his hair. Guy’s barber had managed to get it looking halfway presentable at the trial, but it looked as if it had been left entirely unattended since. Wild, untamed, and only growing longer by the day, it halfway looked as if his eyes had already set it alight.

“How irritating.” Lord Aurelian Lumière glanced down at the boy, not bothering to hide his displeasure. “The people need their celebrations. Already they have lost the Festival of the Sun, to herald the coming of spring. Must they lose the summer solstice as well?”

The fire in Fernan’s eyes shrank slightly in intensity. “You tried to have her executed for murdering her own grandfather after killing her best friend. She’s not going to let you run a festival to your patron spirit.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “With war on the horizon, I can’t imagine people are in the mood to celebrate, anyway.”

She seemed the only one who could have done it. Anyone rational would have done the same, in my place. “I acquitted her when new evidence was brought to light,” he insisted. At great personal cost, no less. How much easier things would be today, were he still in power. Still, justice prevailed. “Ultimately it was nothing more than an inconvenience for her.”

To think that that treacherous cur could kill poor Fouchand and frame it on Annette so expertly. Whatever his differences with the new Duchess, Aurelian was honestly grateful to Fernan for exposing the deception. If he could have done it sooner, this entire situation might have been avoided.

It was almost enough to make Aurelian regret working with Magnifico. Almost.

But had he refused the bard’s help, he might very well be dead right now. That alone was justification enough, distasteful as it was, let alone what was to come.

Success, no matter the cost. Aurelian could strive for nothing less. “Justice prevailed,” he spoke thought aloud. “Due to your actions as much as mine.”

Fernan practically flinched at his response, shrinking into himself as his eyes dimmed further. Acting as an emissary between Annette and I is wearing on him, clearly. In the long term, it could prove untenable, freezing Aurelian out even further from the Duchess and her city’s politics.

After today, though, she won’t have any choice in the matter. “In any case, one of my acolytes can conduct the ceremonies if it’s such an issue. The important thing is that people have hope. They must witness the power of Soleil, must understand that the warm embrace of his light will protect them against the trials ahead.”

“What?” Fernan raised an eyebrow, barely visible behind the fire from his eyes. “Is Soleil going to help fight against Avalon? When I met him, he sounded like he was minutes away from turning you into a smoking pair of boots.”

Aurelian smiled knowingly. “Soleil would never deign to involve himself in our petty conflicts, no more than you might intervene in a contest of ants. It matters not. Through me and his sages, his power shall protect.” And indeed, a great deal more than that.

That elicited only a quiet frown from Fernan, no doubt scheming once again to end up on the winning side. His origins were base, but the Duchess had granted him peerage now, with lands soon to follow. No doubt he would continue grasping upwards in his timid way, as those of low birth were inevitably wont to do. Luckily for you, Sire Montaigne, your course shall soon be quite clear. After today, there would be no room for doubt.

Still, it brought a smile to Aurelian’s face knowing the boy would soon be firmly in his camp once more. “How old are you, Fernan? Nineteen?”

“Seventeen, Lord Lumière.”

“So young.” Perhaps stress has stripped the fat of youth from his face. The boy had certainly endured enough, weathering the attack of that barbarous spirit and his lacertillian minions. “You were born after the Foxtrap, so I will do my best to educate you. King Romain fought bravely, as did my father, and all who died that fateful day. But no one truly comprehended the threat that Avalon represented. It is one thing to hear of distant mechanisms, marvels of technology in faraway places. Quite another to see thunderous cannons destroy your walls in a matter of hours.

“We had no idea what we were up against, Fernan. None of us, not truly. I slew fourteen men and removed countless more from the battle, Sarille Leclaire destroyed their entire fleet, and King Romain wounded Harold the Hungry so grieviously he didn’t live another week. Yet the battle was lost. I think back often to that day, imagining what might have been. But truly, we had no chance of victory. Not against such a threat, with what forces we could bring to bear. The Foxtrap was lost before it had even begun, for want of appropriate might.”

The boy stared with unblinking trails of flame, rapt.

“We fought for a doomed cause.” Aurelian patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “This time, things will be different.”

Fernan seemed too apprehensive to properly appreciate the comforting words. Ever since the trial, he’d been skulking about with all the confidence and poise of a battered puppy. A victim from first to last, savaged by a flame spirit, used as a pawn by Annette even when it meant turning him against his own temple… It wasn’t difficult to see why he remained in such poor spirits, even after so great a victory.

Pitiable, really, though only so much. The boy could have spared himself a world of pain had he simply gone to Aurelian first.

Today’s events should lift his spirits, though. Soon, everything would be set to right.

“How is Aubaine?” Fernan asked. “Things have been so chaotic, I hope he—”

You declined the honor of serving him, and then you rebuked my trust. His well-being is no business of yours. Aurelian almost spoke the words aloud, despite the inevitable consequences. They would be moot before long, anyway. But the reality of politics meant that words of truth were seldom as valuable as the alternative. “He fares well,” Aurelian said. “He’s asked about you and your familiar.” He’d even mentioned something about flying with them, which didn’t seem likely to be within Mara’s capabilities. But the imaginations of children were known to be wild, and Aubaine’s more than most.

“We would be happy to visit again, if he wants. He’s a good kid.”

“After the solstice, perhaps.” And not without my close supervision. “In the meantime, thank you for relaying the Duchess’s words. I shall simply have to celebrate the solstice in private. If I leave now, I can reach a suitable summit to pay my respects in person by midday.”

The fire in Fernan’s eyes shrank. “In person? Lord Lumière, I was there the last time you talked to him. I know what he’s like. If you see him now, after what happened at the trial, you might not make it back alive.”

“How touching.” Aurelian smiled sincerely. “Your concern is appreciated, Fernan, but I am well aware of my limits. My family has served the sun for hundreds of years, an unbroken chain, father to son, since the Debrays first migrated from the Isle of Soleil. If I thought I wouldn’t survive the encounter, I wouldn’t go.”

“I suppose…” Fernan gulped, but didn’t press the point. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Certainly.” Aurelian gestured towards the doorway. “I hope you enjoy the solstice.”

“Same to you,” he said as he exited, the green fire trailing from his head growing larger and stronger the further he walked.

“Bring me my son,” Aurelian ordered once Fernan was out of sight, and a servant rushed to comply.

Soon enough, Aubaine was brought before him, cheeks smeared with the remnants of some sweet he’d been eating.

“Come here.” Aurelian bent down and wiped his son’s mouth with the boy’s own sleeve. “You must take care how you present yourself, Aubaine. People will always be watching, judging you for the slightest sign of weakness.”

Aubaine jumped up, wrapping his arms around Aurelian’s neck. “Does that mean I can have another sweet? I’ll show you how clean I can get it after! I’ll do better I promise!”

“Clever boy.” Aurelian held him close. “Tell your governess I said you could have another two.”

“Really?” His eyes grew wide. “Really really?”

“Only if you’re spotless after the first.” Aurelian lifted him up into the air, perching him against his waist. It’s getting harder to do, the bigger he gets. Soon he would be old enough to bear his cup at council meetings, better learning the temple’s functions, and then it wouldn’t be long before he began squiring.

After that, tradition demanded taking him to meet Soleil.

“Father? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Aurelian set him down gently, then patted him lightly on the head. “You’re growing up so quickly, that’s all. My mother told me this would happen, but it’s one thing to hear it and another to experience it.”

Aubaine beamed. “It’s because I’m going to get big and strong like you! And like Fernan and Mara and Yves and Adrian and King Lucien and…” His face twisted. “Who else is strong, Father?”

He still doesn’t know Adrian’s dead. There had never seemed to be a good moment to tell him. “The Fox-Queen was perhaps the strongest of all, for she was clever too, and that made all the difference.” He patted his son lightly on the back. “I’ll tell you all about her tomorrow, alright? Right now your Father has important business to attend to.” For you, most of all.

“Oh… Okay…” His face fell as the servant led him away. “Goodbye, Father!”

≋

When he’d been as young as Aubaine, Aurelian’s parents had often taken him hiking up the long trail to Soleil’s Summit. It had felt so long and arduous then, even being carried half the time, but in truth the hike only took a few hours.

With concentrated light at his feet propelling him skyward, even less.

The towers at the Temple of the Sun had been built to commune with Soleil, to summon him before the masses and demonstrate their power. Even simply seeing the streak of light descend down to the temple every so often would assure the more simpleminded of their true power, let alone formal ceremonies.

It had also allowed him to secure certain proof of Magnifico’s capabilities, but now a different approach was needed.

Better to keep things away from populated areas, just to be safe.

A glance behind him towards the trail ensured that he hadn’t been followed. Not that anyone could easily follow him up the face of a mountain, not quickly, but it was nonetheless reassuring to see the path lie barren, unpopulated.

Only a dark coat lying on the ground showed any evidence of humanity’s presence here at all. Good, that much is ready, then.

Everything had to be immaculate in an operation this delicate, and so Aurelian had left himself ample time to spare in case of any unexpected complications.

For once, it seemed luck was on his side, for the time passed without interruption. Every minute crawled slowly by, anticipation building as the sun charted its course across the sky.

When it shone down directly above, true noon, Aurelian held his head skyward and began. “Great Spirit Soleil, Surya of the Sky, Master of the Heavens, Champion of Warmth and Light, I call upon you. Make your presence manifest, and honor my family’s pact.”

The sun’s rays remained, filtering down from the sky into the blazing summer heat, but from that golden circle descended a pillar of light, so bright to look upon that Aurelian had to avert his gaze.

“Twice you have called upon me now, Lumière, without bringing the slightest offering. You shall not live beyond a third such slight.”

“There will not be a third time, Great Spirit Soleil.” Aurelian kept his gaze firmly on the ground, his waist bent in a deep bow. “I have called upon you to make the depths of my devotion clear on this most hallowed day. Thanks to the boy and his flame spirit, Levian’s influence in the city continues to wane. The people in the Villemalin district by the harbor, where Leclaire’s influence was once its strongest, turn only further to the mountains, and to flame. They draw upon the mountains for ice to trade, and collaborate with creatures touched by the same flame spirit.”

“Mere trivialities, a waste of time. Even the likes of you should know better.” The very ground was almost too bright to look at as Soleil’s power pulsated outwards. “You tempt fate by irritating me.”

“That isn’t all, Great Soleil. War looms. Avalon and her binders are amassing even as we speak, preparing to strike at Guerron. Frankly, as things stand, it’s not a fight we can win.”

“Again you come to me with failure, sage. Defending those who follow me from war and death is the sworn duty of a sage. And should the city fall, your soul is mine.”

“It will fall, without vastly more power being brought to bear. The old way of doing things is not sufficient to stand against Avalon. The Foxtrap proved that.” If Leclaire could simply have realized that instead of provoking him, they might even have been able to work together on this. But the girl was a pissant brat, and it was scant wonder she’d chosen death instead, antagonizing him as she had. “We need the power of a great spirit on our side. Directly. I know you think it beneath you, but Avalon poses an existential threat to our very way of life.”

“You dare demand my aid in your affairs? Truly, you are no use to me, human. No matter how firm your grip of Guerron, tis worthless should the city slip your grasp. I only hope your son will prove abler when he succeeds you as my highest sage.”

“My grip on the city is not what it was either, I’m afraid. Annette’s trial proved her innocence, and she’s taken full power as Duchess. The Fox-King was freed from his regency, under her auspices. At this exact moment, I’m simply the High Priest of Soleil. No more, no less.”

“There is no ‘more’, no greater honor than your service to the spirit of the sun.” The ground grew even brighter, hot energy pulsing and crackling through the air. “If you could realize that, you might have lived.”

Finally, it seemed Soleil had decided to kill him.

Aurelian stood up, facing Soleil square in the eye, despite the pain it sent shooting through his face. Even with his eyes closed, the image of the floating spirit burned its way into green trails on his eyelids.

He put his hand in front of his face, but the image only burned brighter. An instant passed in hours, as Soleil readied the blow that would reduce him to ash.

A thin black line appeared across the spirit’s midsection, halting his blast. The line grew thicker, a void of darkness, as Soleil’s power faded further.

Aurelian opened his eyes, squinting at the two halves of the spirit getting sucked further into the yawning abyss.

Soleil was without expression, without movement. For the first time, without anger or malice or vile demands. Whatever happened next, Aubaine would never have to serve as his sage.

Magnifico had really done it.

Weeks on the run, avoiding a trial he most definitely deserved, and he had still returned to do as he’d vowed to do. And it had worked.

The bard landed in a crouch, his Cloak of Nocturne flapping behind him, curved black sword in hand.

The pieces of Soleil circled around the imploding black sphere slowly, gradually consumed by the darkness.

“The sun is still out,” Aurelian noted, looking out over the solstice-scorched city. “Shouldn’t it be setting? Or dark already?”

Magnifico stuck his blade into the black hole in the air, its handle stretched out horizontally in the air. “We have eight minutes until anything happens. More than enough time.”

“I can barely believe it,” Aurelian admitted, staring at the spirit’s tattered corpse. “Soleil was practically without peer. Khali, perhaps, but she has long been exiled. And Terramonde, but the earth spirit has never manifested itself before humanity.”

“Binders kill spirits, Lumière. This is what I do.” He grinned, placing his hands on the handle of the floating sword. “Would have been a damn sight harder without your distraction, though. That I’ll grant. Pantera was a far weaker spirit, and she was a hundred times harder to kill.”

“Even after Soleil confirmed you were telling the truth, it was hard to be absolutely certain.” Aurelian walked to the other side of the dark vortex, plunging his hand inside and piercing it against the dark blade within. “If we only have eight minutes, you must work quickly, lest darkness fall.”

“Patience, Lumière,” Magnifico choked out over a bout of laughter, gripping the handle more tightly with both hands. He held them firm, even as his belly shook. “Wow.”

“What’s so funny?”

The bard maintained his smile even as his laughter slowly died down. “You wouldn’t get it.”

That wasn’t terribly comforting, but there was no going back at this point. The impossible had already been accomplished, anyway. “Is this the right time?”

The bard nodded. “The energy has a will of its own. With an object, the binder has to do everything. But here, it should help if you step in.”

“Excellent.” He took a deep breath, feeling his blood run out as it dripped into the vortex. “I, Aurelian Lucianus Apollinaire Lumière, do hereby claim the power of the sun. Let its energy join me, that I might succeed him as the Great Spirit of Light.”

It did seem to make a difference, for he immediately felt warmth radiate out through his body, starting at the arm the blade had pierced. “I vow that truth will bind me in all things, at all times. I vow that the light of the sun shall always fill the sky at daytime, and retreat to its proper place at night.” Every word sent another surge of strength through him. “I vow to do better than he who came before me, to act as a bridge between the world of humanity and the affairs of the spirits, and defend our way of life against those who seek to end it.”

Magnifico snorted, but continued on nonetheless.

Aurelian had asked him, when they’d first begun plotting, why he couldn’t just take Soleil’s power for himself.

Magnifico had laughed at that, as if the very idea were preposterous. “Why would I want to limit myself so? I have the Blade of Khali, the Claw of Pantera, the Dagger of Gemel… Lies are my trade, and artifacts my power. You can have Soleil confirm my intentions on that: I have no designs on the power of the sun, not for myself. A cooperative spirit would be far more valuable.”

Confirm he had, and a thousand other things besides. Soleil had been none too pleased at that, but something so audacious had to be confirmed thoroughly.

And now, Magnifico needed him, unless he wanted to live in a world without sunlight.

“We’re running out of time,” Aurelian noted, feeling the movement of light across the sky. Already, hints of orange tinted the horizon, as if the sun were setting in all directions at once. “Two more minutes, perhaps, at most.”

“Please don’t rush me. I haven’t had to seal anything this powerful in decades. This is a delicate operation, and the consequences of a mistake could be quite dire. If I lose control, the energy might end up binding itself to me, god forbid, or killing us both, which would be quite inconvenient.”

A master of understatement, this one. “Very well.” Aurelian remained silent until the bard finished, watching as the light descended on all sides. A cold wind was beginning to blow, the chill of night settling in the air.

But soon that could be put to rights.

“Done.” Magnifico pulled the sword free and sheathed it on his belt.

Aurelian withdrew his arm, now glowing gold with streaks of dark blood trailing down it.

The bard snapped his fingers, and the vortex closed, not a trace of Soleil remaining. “Congratulations, new Sun Spirit.”

Aurelian inhaled deep, though it probably wasn’t even necessary anymore, then willed himself off the ground. Far from the unstable fire at his feet he’d managed as a sage, the air carried him gently, without a trace of flame to buoy him up.

It was as if the sky was his natural place.

He rotated to face East, looking out over the empty mountains. He pointed a finger at one in the distance, and nearly jumped as it exploded with a golden burst of light. Smoke and rubble trailed into the distant air, half of the mountain collapsing in on itself. Excellent. He flipped around, facing the water, and sent forth another blast.

A column of water filled the sky in the wake of the blast, a wave of water rippling out past it. Even at such a distance, he could see with perfect clarity the height of the wave, taller than the Temple of the Sun, but far enough away that it would dissipate before reaching the coast.

The power spent was like nothing. A drop of water in the ocean.

He felt points of light trace across the earth. Offerings, great and small. A stick of incense in Guerron, a prized calf in Porte Lumière, even faint traces in Malin, though few in number. He saw them all at once, the information filling his head as fast as he could comprehend it.

“Nicely done.” Magnifico’s words snapped Aurelian’s attention back to him. “Our business should just about be at an end, then.”

“Almost.” The sound of his voice shocked him, like a great blast of fire burning his throat raw. “You killed Fouchand.”

“Sure I did.” Magnifico shrugged. “Helped you out, didn’t it? Until you completely blew it, anyway. Honestly, what were you thinking at that trial? Fernan was minutes away from figuring out the Duke arrested you, and then the whole city would have known. I made things so easy for you, and you still managed to screw it up.”

“You murdered a wise and just man, an innocent in all this. You may have been a necessary evil, but now that monstrosity is at an end.” The fire filled his throat, burning hotter with each word as the feeling erupted from his chest. “You’ve outlived your usefulness, Magnifico.”

“Is that so?” The bard chuckled. “It’s funny, I was just about to say the same thing.”

“If you wanted to turn against me, you seem to have done it too late.” Aurelian felt the heat within him, the words nearly burning his throat raw. He floated higher into the air, then sent a targeted burst of light directly at Magnifico.

The impact was enough to make the cliff face crumble, stirring up so much dirt and dust that a mere man would never be able to see, or perhaps even to breathe.

But I am a mere man no more.

Magnifico had dodged out of the way somehow, for he wasn’t within the cloud of dust. His Cloak of Nocturne was hiding him in darkness, just as it had hid him from Soleil. But Soleil hadn’t known there was a threat.

No matter.

Aurelian crossed his arms, feeling the pulse of light tear through his body as he built up power. He pushed it outwards, sending a massive blast of energy in all directions.

A blast a fraction the size would have been enough to drain his entire reserves as a sage, but this, he barely felt.

Soleil’s Summit was vaporized, leaving a perfectly spherical crater in the face of the mountain. No matter his petty binder tricks, no one could survive such a thorough obliteration.

And now my true task begins.

He turned his eyes north, brimming with white-hot power. Across the Lyrion sea, to Avalon.

Obliterating Cambria so thoroughly no life remained would be the work of a minute. Another city or two, and even King Harold would surrender. And if not, well, I could always continue.

There was a delicious satisfaction to it, outmatching their mechanical proficiency with the power of the spirits, an advantage more thorough than they’d had even at the Foxtrap, or the Fall of Refuge.

Soleil could have done it at any time. Almost any spirit could.

And yet they remained aloof as their followers suffered and died for them.

No more.

Aurelian rose higher into the air, the wind scraping past his skin as he did. Soon, Avalon would be cowering, begging for reprieve. And they would find none. No less than they deserved.

“Now this is more like it. I was hoping for a bit more of a fight.” Magnifico hovered high in the air, a thick gauntlet around his arms blasting wind downward hard enough to keep him aloft.

Damn it! How had he survived?

Aurelian willed himself towards him, closing in on his prey.

The air scraped him skin once more, simmering in the blistering heat radiating from his skin. His view changed faster than he could blink, streaking across vast stretches of the sky in an instant. In fact, he’d moved so fast that—

“Nice aim!” Magnifico called out from behind him, making it clear just how badly Aurelian had overshot. “Did they teach you that before or after they showed you how to burn people alive?”

Bastard.

This time, Aurelian took care to move deliberately, flying more like he had as a sage, slow and steady. Once he was close enough, he pointed his arm at the bard and took aim.

A cone of light sprayed out of his hands, gold and unyielding and forceful. So forceful it blew him back into a spin, all the more disorienting with how thorough his new vision was. His hands burned with the power, glowing red and gold and white in turn.

By the time he regained his composure, it was obvious that Magnifico had dodged once again.

Aurelian forced himself to stop, to take a deep breath and assess. As he exhaled, flame filled his throat and burst forth into the air, gouging a golden scar into the sky that slowly faded. This is a set of powers to learn, just like any other.

Of course he wouldn’t be a master of them immediately. Power might be immediate, but skill took time.

Time I might not have, if I don’t want Magnifico scurrying away.

Perhaps there was another option.

Distant specks were already amassing on the trail, figures scurrying and skittering towards them.

Aurelian’s eyes seared a trail into the ground as he readjusted to see them, feeling them as they glowed gold, then red. He felt his sight turn upon himself, floating in the air with hair of gold and his bloodstained arm, and his eyes burning hotter and brighter, the fire surrounding his face as if consuming it.

A shake of his head forced his sight back to the figures on the trail, twin spouts of green flame lighting their way.

That’s Fernan.

He was riding his familiar, Jethro beside him. Other geckos carried other riders, albeit more slowly, less confidently, their riders mere passengers directing nothing.

An opportunity, if ever there was one.

Aurelian formed a sphere of light in his hands, the burning heat searing deeper stains into his bloodied arms. He formed the shell as his fingers began to crackle, wrapping it around Magnifico as fast as he could.

It wasn’t enough to catch him, but it did force a readjustment of his position, a descent through the sky as his wind gauntlet was knocked off course.

“Lord Lumière?” Fernan gasped as his gecko grew closer. “What happened?”

“I won,” he said succinctly, trying to minimize the overpowering heat scraping his throat. “I am the Sun Spirit now.” He coughed, sending a massive golden streak of fire into the sky. “I found Magnifico… he betrayed all of us… kill him.”

Daggers of light scraped his throat as he turned back to Magnifico, still diving through the air without any apparent worry.

Aurelian smashed one hand into the palm of the other, calling down a pillar of light from the sky above.

For a moment, the world was still. But for the golden energy crackling along his hands and the swirling dust in the air, there was finally calm.

“Is he dead?” Fernan asked as he and Mara approached, far ahead of the others.

“No. I would know.” Jethro lifted himself from the gecko and landed on the dirt. Up close, it was easy to see the blue earring he’d stolen from Leclaire, a silent reminder of the horror they’d perpetrated together.

At the time, it had seemed the only way. Avalon’s superiority was impossible to deny, its encroachment, its conquests, inevitable. But there were degrees of failure.

With a pretext to prompt it, a small loss of lives rather than a full scale war, Guerron could negotiate peaceful annexation, and maintain some sovereignty, along with its culture. Charenton had managed it, and Île Dimanche. Fouchand and the children would capitulate, in the face of crushing inevitability. He was too sensible not to. At that point, when Jethro presented it, it had seemed by far the best of uniformly horrible options.

That was before Magnifico had arrived, with a significantly superior course.

Murderous bastard that he was, he had done his job. With this power, I can end Avalon forever.

Jethro’s solution was merely a cheap imitation by comparison, the spy himself little better. Even his appearance flickered as if he weren’t entirely present, dipping in and out of darkness every few seconds.

So strange that they would oppose each other. But then, politics always made for strange bedfellows.

In contrast to Magnifico’s smug confidence, Jethro looked genuinely scared. “We have to capture him. Killing him is not a viable option. This is the only way.”

At that moment, the rubble exploded outward with a gust of wind, a black speck flying into the air above it.

“How—” he suppressed a fiery cough in his throat. “How do you expect to do that?”

“He’s a binder,” Jethro said hurriedly, pulling a bag from the gecko’s side. “He’s nothing without his tools, and we have a solution for that.”

“The crown.” Fernan’s eyes burned brighter. “Is that why you gave it to me? In case Magnifico tried to fight his way out?”

Jethro nodded, pulling the metal object free of the bad. “It seals his power. Well, any binder’s. But I brought it for him. Put this on his head, and he’s nothing but a man, artifacts or no artifacts. They’ll be useless in his hands.”

Aurelian nodded, not sparing the breath to respond. Jethro’s words had a ring of truth to them, as if the very energy within him could verify it. He took to the skies, pursuing the bard with measured deliberation, careful not to repeat his first mistake.

Beneath him, Jethro disappeared into the darkness, slipping entirely into shadow with the crown still in his hands.

Mara raced further up the mountain, Fernan still on her back.

They can handle their end. The greater part falls to me.

Aurelian blasted as lightly as he could from his feet, relying on honed instincts from his time as a sage. The power was still overwhelming, searing through his feet as he slammed forward into the air.

Still, this time, he didn’t overshoot.

“Finally decided to show up, eh?” Magnifico slowed his ascent, his gauntlet beginning to pulse with power. “You know, my people remember Eulus as a wind spirit, before I killed him, anyway. But he also held sway over storms.” He adjusted his hand, shooting crackling lightning from the gauntlet directly at Aurelian.

Who does he think I am?

Aurelian simply flew through it, feeling the power burn through his flesh as he absorbed it into himself. By the time he was close enough, his whole body was aflame, burning across the sky and crackling with remnants of the lightning.

He willed the flame into a condensed point, a ball hot enough to melt iron, then thrust it towards the bard.

Magnifico backhanded it aside with the gauntlet, sending it careening off into the distance. He used the momentum to shoot a gust of wind above him, shooting himself downwards.

By the time Aurelian could re-orient himself, the bard had already risen back from above and taken the opportunity to blast him with more lightning. Why does he keep trying that when he knows it doesn’t work?

Still, the maneuver almost reminded him of his duel with Camille Leclaire. The same rise and fall, the same misdirection.

Leclaire…

Aurelian focused his attention onto the gauntlet, rapidly gathering heat from the surrounding air and channeling it into the metal of the gauntlet.

Just like he’d done with Leclaire’s armor, to buy himself enough time to shoot her.

“Fuck!” Magnifico flung the red-hot metal from his hands, sending it tumbling into the mountains. He realized too late what that meant for him, lacking any way to stay in the air.

Jethro said capturing him is the only option…

But he’d been wrong before, about Avalonian motives and politics especially. Even if Jethro’s warning was honest, that didn’t rule out his being mistaken.

That bastard had killed Fouchand, and tried to betray Aurelian too, even if the latter case had been mutual.

Aurelian plunged downwards, far faster than the bard, and landed hard in the crater below, sending up huge bursts of dirt and flame.

Jethro was still wreathed in darkness, hidden from view. But Fernan…

That poor, naive boy.

Green jets of flame spat out of his hands and feet as he shot up into the sky, trying to meet Magnifico before the ground could.

I could stop him.

He flew past the plummeting bard as his accent slowed.

I could help him.

Fernan kicked his feet up and readjusted his angle, flying downward to match the bard’s speed. Once they were aligned, he grabbed hold of him, then adjusted his angle once more, so he could slowly break his fall with flame from below.

By the time they were ten feet above the ground, they were practically moving at a crawl.

Magnifico wrenched himself free of Fernan and dove downward, rolling when he hit the ground. Without another word he sprang to his feet, somehow undamaged, and began running down the side of the mountain.

He didn’t make it very far before Mara sprang up from below and grabbed his leg with her mouth. She dragged him back and spat him out on the ground in front of them, his leg clearly burned.

“Very well,” Magnifico spat, putting his hand to his sword. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but—”

Jethro emerged from the shadows behind him, planting the crown firmly on his head.

Before there was even time to blink, he retreated back into the darkness, leaving only a defeated Magnifico, clawing at the crown on his head. He set his fingers against the brim and tried to rip it off, but it refused to budge.

“It’s over—” A fit of coughing blasted clouds of gold into the air, distant mountainsides, even the ocean. Aurelian could barely direct himself enough to avoid hitting the city or any of the people.

“It is over.” The bard sneered. “You might not know it, but you’re already dead. No mere human can withstand the entire power of a spirit within their body, especially not one such as Soleil. Already, that energy is tearing you apart, killing you from the inside. You must have felt it.”

What? Aurelian’s eyes widened, burning pain filling them as they did. “You… you swore…. You swore, before Soleil, that I would survive this.” He managed to hold the blasts in, but his throat felt fit to burst.

“I said I could perform the ritual such that you would. It’s as simple as forgoing some of the power. Bind a fraction to the man, still far beyond what a sage or binder could ever boast, and the body can survive. It’s happened before, albeit by accident.” He smiled, though it looked forced. “I didn’t, though. You got all of it.”

No… No…

“Are you insane?” Fernan’s eyes blazed bright, though the green color was tinted with gold. “If he dies, there’s no Sun Spirit. The world will be shrouded in darkness until the spirits convene to pick a replacement. That could take months! Years! Do you know many people will die?”

Magnifico clicked his tongue. “Better than anyone here, I imagine. Such is the price of ridding the world of spirits who make humanity dance to their bidding, throwing ourselves on a pyre for their enrichment. They care not for our wellbeing, and yet they do not hesitate to murder, to sentence captured souls to fates worse than death. Ending their tyranny justifies any means, no matter the cost. Soleil’s replacement will be weaker, even easier to kill. Just as Levian is nothing compared to Pantera, Lunette pitiful next to Khali.”

Aurelian could only steal a glimpse of the darkened skies before his eyes burned with such light that he had to shut them. Even the ring of sunset around the horizon had nearly faded, the last echoes of the day forever lost. Soon, the whole world would be plunged into darkness, just as Khali had brought forth over a century ago. As Soleil’s light tore him apart from within, he struggled to hold himself together just a moment longer. He was the sun, and now he was about to die. “Aubaine…”

“One by one they’ll die, each weaker than the last. It’s inevitable, entropy. With the right nudge from me here and there, their power and numbers will keep decreasing over time. Until eventually...” He looked up at the darkening sky with a smile as Aurelian felt his body come fully apart. “Extermination.”