Victor of Tucson
Book 10: Chapter 48: Conflict's End

48 – Conflict’s End

Victor focused on the woman before him, his slow, contemplative rage quickening as he recognized her attempt to thwart him. He took a lumbering stride forward, and then the blazing star she’d built in her hands erupted into a beam, lancing out and striking him full in the chest.

The white-hot Energy instantly heated the faintly iridescent, blue-black material of his aegis to a malleable near-liquid, then, a fraction of a second later, it burst through, boring a six-inch hole through Victor’s chest and exploding out his back in a shower of orange and red sparks. The pain was immense, and, if Victor hadn’t been forty feet tall and capable of ungodly regeneration, it might have been a fatal wound. As the beam faded, though, all it had accomplished was to slow his stride and further fuel his ire.

“I said stop!” the woman screamed, flickering with light, instantly shifting her position to Victor’s right flank, where, again, she began gathering a brilliant orb of Energy.

If nothing else, she’d succeeded in turning Victor’s mind away from the Khalidaysian encampment. He turned toward her, considered the best way to deliver his wrath, and then cast Tactical Reposition. He appeared behind the woman, and though his instinct was to simply stomp her into the ground, he lifted Lifedrinker’s blood-slick edge and brought her down toward the much smaller being’s skull.

She was fast, though, and her aura, unable to dominate Victor, was still thick around her. She was immediately aware of his presence, and she erupted in a white fire so intense that it annihilated the grass and melted a crater in the earth, transforming the rocks and dirt to slag. Victor was thrown back, his exposed flesh scorched black, and his armor strained to the limits of its durability. He crashed to the ground with an earth-shaking impact, momentarily stunned. The eruption of fiery Energy had scorched his eyes, and his vision briefly faded to yellow-gray before his regeneration returned his sight.

Rage flooded Victor’s pathways further, but the nature of his transformation made it impossible for his blood to boil. Instead, his mind fragmented, chasing down a hundred different avenues for revenge in the mere seconds it took him to climb to his feet. If he’d cast Volcanic Fury instead of Glacial Wrath, he might have teleported to her again, cast Core Domain, and then Velocity Mantle to try to overwhelm her with brutality. He hadn’t, though, and his glacial fury was too cunning to squander most of his remaining Energy on an uncertain tactic.

Instead, Victor’s calculating mind considered the possibility that this woman, whom he now recognized as the veil walker who’d been mediating the terms between Kynna and Livessa—the meeting where Victor had first seen Drok the Skull—might have enough Energy to outlast him. After all, a veil walker’s well of Energy could run very deep, indeed. If he tried to kill her quickly, he might find his wrath unsatisfied. A glacier didn’t think in terms of seconds or minutes or days, however. He could bide his time. He could bury this grudge and let it grow, nurturing it into—

Victor’s contemplation of a slow, grinding vengeance against the veil walker was cut short by an ear-shattering explosion of thunder and the brilliant crimson arc of an enormous lightning bolt. It split from the heavens, arcing down and poleaxing the veil walker. She gyrated with the electric current, her arms thrown wide, her hair standing on end as her eyes flew open, glowing crimson like the electricity arcing through her.

A second later, as Victor stood surprised, wondering what twist of fate had befallen his foe, Lohanse appeared, gliding out of the sky on his shimmering crystal disc. He circled the stunned woman, and Victor watched as he held forth a huge, ruby-shaded crystalline staff. “Submit, Wesper. Your rebellion is done. Two of your kin have already fled, and with your distraction here, my allies have subdued the rest.”

Wesper had fallen to her knees as the lightning finished coursing through her, but now she slowly struggled to her feet, shaking her head so bits of broken, platinum hair showered down around her, trailing smoke as the impossibly fine strands smoldered. “You fool, Lohanse!” she hissed, her voice quivering with pain and fury. “Are you so content to let this upstart destroy the peace that has lasted millennia?”

Lohanse clicked his tongue, bringing his disc around to land between Victor and Wesper. “You and your allies upset the peace. You’re the ones trampling on tradition. Submit now and be judged. Banishment is still a hope for you.” He pointed upward. “Our brothers and sisters watch, waiting to see if you will refuse. Will today be the end of your great climb?”

As their conversation continued, Victor shifted his gaze toward the encampment he’d meant to destroy before the woman arrived. He could see it was empty. His foes had fled. Slowly, inexorably, he exerted his will and pushed his cold, grinding rage down, reaching into his pathways to sever the connection to his Glacial Wrath. As his anger faded and the colors returned to the world, he sighed, releasing a mountain’s worth of tension from his shoulders and inhaling the ozone-scented air.

“…go now. Comply and your judgment will be fair,” Lohanse was saying. The woman nodded, then looked up at Victor, still the size of a titan, towering over both veil walkers.

“You surprised us, steel seeker. You surprised me. I harbor great dread in my heart for what will befall Ruhn, but I bear you no grudge.”

Victor stared at her for a long moment, contemplating the complexity of his emotions. Seconds ago, he would have said his grudge was enough for both of them and that he’d have his vengeance even if it took a thousand years. The aspect of his Glacial Wrath had faded, though, and he held more hope in his heart than rage. Still, the rage was there, and the fear that drove it. He couldn’t silence those parts of himself. “You’ve done great harm here. You’ve caused hundreds of deaths. At least the customs of this world have prevented that number from climbing into the thousands or millions. I hope Lohanse and the other veil walkers remember those lost lives when they render judgment.”

Wesper’s face, oval with sharp features, was soot-stained, and her glinting silvery eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot from her ordeal with Lohanse’s lightning. She looked sad and a little pathetic as she nodded. Then, to Victor’s surprise, she knelt before Lohanse so that he could easily snap a crystalline collar around her neck. Without another word, she stood, gathered a surge of hot Energy, then shimmered and disappeared.

Victor snorted. “She gave in easily enough.”

Lohanse held up his crystal staff. “Another blast like the one I gave her would have broken her, and she knew it. Besides, she stood no chance against the two of us, let alone my allies who truly are watching.”

Victor folded his arms, contemplating the words. Was Lohanse that much stronger than another veil walker? Could he defeat her with just two spells? He supposed there was probably a wide array of strength when it came to veil walkers, just as there was with steel seekers and iron rankers.

Lohanse approached and clapped Victor on the shoulder, smiling broadly. “Well done, Victor! When I came to warn you those months ago, I didn’t dare to believe you could actually stand up to Khaliday! I’d hoped, but—” He trailed off, pointing behind him. “You’re about to receive some Energy from the System.”

Victor turned and, sure enough, a broad flow of shimmering ghostly Energy was pouring out of Dro Vah’s corpse toward him. He braced himself, expecting the usual euphoria and loss of control as it infused him. It didn’t happen that way, however. The Energy entered his pathways, but he felt it course toward his Core space and then through it, into what he had to guess was his spirit space. It happened quickly, and he didn’t feel much other than the heady rush as the Energy passed through his pathways. He didn’t even receive a message from the System.

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He turned back to Lohanse, frowning in puzzlement. He struggled to find words for a moment, torn between asking the man for advice about what had just happened and confronting him about his interrupted vengeance. However, Lohanse capitalized on the silence and spoke instead, “I see you’ve made great strides. I can feel the weight of your aura; it’s much changed since last we spoke.”

Victor frowned, irritated because he wanted to be friendly with the man. He wanted to tell him about what he’d experienced, but he didn’t like Lohanse driving the conversation. Almost petulantly, he changed the subject. “What will become of house Khaliday? I trust this”—Victor gestured toward the battlefield outside his palace—“will suffice for a duel of conquest. By that right, Kynna should be empress.”

“As soon as we’ve put these rebelling veil walkers under lock and key, the council will round up House Khaliday and exact judgment. We’ll allow Queen Kynna to have a voice in the proceedings. I anticipate that the ruling members of the family, especially Matessa and Troyssas, will face death, while the others will be banished.”

“I guess that’ll have to do.” Victor stretched his neck, pleased with himself for being so calm after the battles he’d just fought.

“Tell me, Victor, how did you make such gains? The man you were, the one I delivered my warning to, was mighty for an iron ranker, but this display was obscene. When you slew that throng of champions, we in the aerie, holding our little stand-off, were beyond stunned. It crushed the morale of the rebel veil walkers.”

Victor shrugged, happy enough to feed Lohanse some half-truths. “I had some tricks up my sleeve—natural treasures and a high-tier dungeon I had access to. As your little friend noted, I’m a steel seeker now.”

“My little friend…” Lohanse sighed, shaking his head, and Victor saw genuine sorrow in his eyes. “You don’t know how true your teasing words are. Wesper once professed her love for me. I was caught out like a fool by this rebellion.”

Victor concentrated, harnessing his body's potential, drawing it in, and reducing his size to better match Lohanse’s. When they stood nearly eye to eye, he asked, “Can you tell me something, Lohanse? When you were a steel seeker, did you have to create a mantle or a class?”

“Ah, the System’s terminology is new to you? You didn’t have a master to spoil the ascension message? Many treat the terms as interchangeable, although my master taught me that they are philosophically distinct. A class is something rigid, meant to sit atop your spirit and alter how you interact with the world. A mantle is formed by you, for you, meant to mold perfectly to your spirit—” He paused, shaking his head. "I’m about to overstep. I’m assuming you eschewed the System’s guidance?”

Victor couldn’t see a reason to lie, so he just nodded.

“The journey of a steel seeker is best accomplished alone. What works for me, what makes sense to me, might not for you. Without the System’s guidance, you’ll have to do a lot of experimenting, but I admire your spirit. If I ever thought such a choice was right for someone, I’d say it was you. You’ve done nothing but shatter expectations since you arrived on our world. Do you intend to stay?”

Victor sighed, turning to look back at his palace and the throngs of people gathered atop the walls and flooding out of the gates. “I’d like to stay a while, but I have obligations. I’ll come back from time to time, I’m sure. I’ve grown fond of this place.”

“I owe you a debt of gratitude. If Khaliday had won, I would have lost my leadership role among the veil walkers, but things would have returned to normal for Ruhn, save for the fact that everyone would have known our rules and laws are a farce—a fiction maintained for appearance’s sake. A free people cannot exist when they know there are different rules for the elite than for everyone else.” He nodded toward the palace. “Your queen’s victory is good for the world. The masses need to know that the mighty can fall. I hope the reign of House Dar will be just and that Kynna won’t fall into the same trap as Matessa Khaliday.”

“I think you’ll find Kynna a very different type of ruler.” Once again, Victor turned toward his palace, watching as a formation of Queensguard pushed through the crowd at the gates.

“Go, Victor. Be with your people. Tell your queen she is victorious, and I’ll soon meet with her. The barrier preventing travel to and from this world will be lifted by tomorrow.”

“All right.” Victor held out his hand, and Lohanse clasped it. “It was nice to get to know you a little, Grand Adjudicator.”

“Likewise, Champion.”

Victor released his hand, then turned and marched back toward his palace. As he approached, the roar of the crowd was almost deafening. He was eager to rest and talk with his close friends. He was eager to pull out his Farscribe books and reconnect with all his loved ones, who must have been worried sick. Even so, he stopped along the way and, swinging Lifedrinker in a few well-placed blows, carved the heart out of Dro Vah’s chest, and put it into his storage ring. He wasn’t going to pass up his first dragon heart.

###

Later, after he’d basked in the adulation of the crowd and had Kynna publicly honor him with one accolade after another, gifting him enough lands and titles to make him a king in his own right, Victor finally managed to pull away from the public and make his way back to his tower, but only after promising to dine with Kynna in a few hours. He wasn’t really tired, not after the Energy he’d received from his battles. More than that, he enjoyed the people's attention; he loved seeing the joy on their faces, especially the children who’d been suffering in ignorance, aware that something was wrong, but not how dire things truly were.

Nevertheless, he felt a need to take stock and correspond with his loved ones and other people he owed updates to—Ranish Dar, for instance. He also had a feeling in his gut that Chantico was waiting to speak with him on the spirit plane, and, closer at hand, he knew he owed a visit to Khul Bach. He hadn’t spoken to the spirit since before he’d been cursed, and there was much news the old Degh spirit deserved to hear.

The palace was relatively quiet as he made his way through it; most people were still in the courtyard, on the walls, or outside the gate watching the Queensguard collect the corpses of the steel seekers Victor had slain. They’d promised, of course, to save the valuables for Victor to pick through. So, when he was halfway to his tower, it was easy enough to hear the rapid footsteps behind him, and he turned to see Arona and Bryn running toward him down the wide, marble corridor.

He chuckled. Of course, he wouldn’t be left alone for more than a few minutes. He didn’t mind, though. He was pleased to have their company; they were a good deal different than an exuberant crowd of thousands, and they’d be happy to entertain themselves while he went through his correspondence. “Hey,” he said as they closed the distance.

“The queen wants us to tell you dinner will be brought to your quarters, and Arona and I will be attending!” Bryn announced.

Victor laughed. “You don’t need an excuse to chase me down.” He smiled and held up his arm, inviting her to come close. When she did, he wrapped his arm over her shoulder, then lifted his other arm, arching his eyebrows at Arona.

She chuckled and shook her head. “Your arms are too large.”

Victor growled. “Get over here!”

She relented and came close, and he draped one big arm over her shoulder, pressing her tight to his side for a minute while he squeezed Bryn. When they’d had enough, squealing for him to let up, he turned and pulled them along with him as he continued walking. “Thank you both. I’m sorry for all the worry I put you through.”

Bryn was quick to object. “It wasn’t your fault!”

“Even if it were, I’m your friend,” Arona added, as though that were enough to explain everything. The words made Victor warm inside, and he was content to walk without speaking for a while.

When they reached his tower and stepped into the elevator, Bryn said, “I can’t believe how you thrashed that dragon! When we saw what he did to Resh A’kel…”

“Pity I missed that guy. Sounds like he made an impression on you.”

Arona responded before Bryn could, “He was very handsome. I think he liked Bryn—”

“You witch!” Bryn shoved Arona’s shoulder. “I saw how you looked at him!”

Arona laughed, and though her voice still had that characteristic scratchy quality, it was a joyous, high-pitched sound that Victor couldn’t remember hearing before. It made him realize just how vital his victory had been for her. Her post-Death Caster existence had centered on his time at Iron Mountain. To her, Kynna and Gloria represented a new life—one that wasn’t rooted in death and the many macabre things she’d done in Vesavo’s service. As Victor had languished from his curse, she’d had to keep open the possibility that this new existence would be over shortly after it had begun.

“What are you going to do with yourself now, Arona?” he asked, interrupting their playful banter as the elevator door opened.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you have a whole new life ahead of you. Are you going to seek out the Fae? I bet you could get a meeting with that Fae consul back on Sojourn. What was her name?”

“Consul Rexa. But, Victor, I don’t want to do that. I want to stay with you! I want to help you with whatever you’re doing next.”

Victor looked from her earnest expression to Bryn’s, noting how she’d gotten very quiet, too. After a second’s pause, he shrugged. “We can talk about that. I’m not exactly eager to be alone.” He pulled open his suite’s door and added, “Now, come on! I need to have a stiff drink before I start reading these Farscribe books.”