Chapter 429 - In the Shadow of War

Hope you like the chapter! Just needed a few rounds of edits to get this one right.

Hump ranked a hand through his hair. “I told you he wasn’t dead.”

They were in the temple in the Remnant Realm, waiting for the rift to open for their return to Elenvine. Any enthusiasm the expedition had was gone. They spread out throughout the chamber, sitting amongst their parties and chatting while they quietly waited. Their success in the Remnant Realm meant little compared to the news—Fort Nordric had fallen, the Fallen Lands had expanded, and now, gods knew how much more land they would claim.

“You’ve said that already,” Bud said, his tone dry. “Several times.”

“And we believed you in the first place,” Celaine said flatly.

“I know, but it’s nice to be right.”

Celaine and Bud shared a look, eyebrows raised.

“What?” Hump asked defensively.

“Just pleased that one of us is happy,” Celaine said. “Doesn’t seem so nice to me. We’ve got another problem to deal with.”

Hump frowned and deflated a little. “Yeah… fair point.”

Dylan rubbed at his chin. “So, what now? What will Kassius’ return actually mean?”

“He probably won’t be too happy with Hump,” Bud said.

Hump nodded in agreement. “And he already hated Chosen.”

“So he’ll be arrested,” Dylan said. “Locked in one of those towers for nobles that aren’t allowed out.”

“He’s a warlock,” Celaine said. “Isn’t this what the Inquisition is meant to deal with?”

“That depends,” Emilia said, her voice edged with caution. “Publicly, Prince Kassius is a hero.

“But Countess Daston knew when Hump met with her,” Bud pointed out.

“And she said that other powerful people knew too,” Hump said. “His… disposition wasn’t that secret.”

“Still, whatever suspicion there is on him may not matter,” Emilia said. “He’s still royalty—nephew to the king. People will tread carefully. One cannot just arrest a dungeon hero. There would be riots, especially during a time such as this.”

“A High Priest will be able to identify him as a warlock,” Hump said. “His actions won’t matter then.”

“Rumours and politics often dance hand-in-hand,” Emilia said, folding her arms. “Prince Kassius has always been under scrutiny, especially being a practitioner. He was never a popular figure amongst nobles. Yet now, to most, it was said he died a hero. His return will certainly prompt questions but who knows how most will react.”

“He spoke of such prejudice,” Hump said. “It wouldn’t be the first time people have accused him of being a warlock, I’m sure.”

Emilia nodded. “Exactly. His position invites enemies. But while some might be eager to act on the truth, others may protect him. He’s the son of Duke Malar, and seventh in line for the throne.”

Bud scowled. “Are you suggesting the traitor could be king?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Emilia said grimly. “Our current king descends from a man who took the throne by murdering his brother.”

The five of them fell quiet. Nisha let out a disgruntled huff, and Hump scratched her brow. He’d tried to avoid thinking to hard about Kassius for her sake. The man had killed her mother, after all. While Nishari might not comprehend that fully, she could tell when Hump was off.

Celaine broke the silence with a mutter. “I could put an arrow in him.”

Emilia’s head snapped toward her. “Don’t even joke about that,” she hissed. “If anyone overheard you, not even Marcela could protect you.”

Celaine’s jaw tightened, clearly irritated, but she bit her tongue. “I hate this. This is nonsense—we know what he is. Many people do.”

“Knowing and acting are two different things,” Emilia said. “Unfortunately, there are many people in powerful positions that care less about what is right and more about what can be gained. In this case, with Fort Nordric’s fall, priorities will likely be elsewhere.”

“Let’s just all move to Drakalyn,” Celaine grumbled. “It’s quieter, simpler, and without this corruption.”

“Didn’t a lich nearly kill your god and burn down your sacred tree?” Bud asked, deadpan.

“It got better.” Celaine’s glare could have pierced stone.

“I think what Bud’s trying to say is that everywhere has its problems,” Dylan said diplomatically.

They didn’t have long before they were called to the rift array, and soon, Elenvine was only a few steps away. It was night when they returned to the city. The air was crisp and cool. Here, in the far south of Alveron, with a clear sky and a glimmering expanse of stars before his eyes, Hump could almost imagine that things were normal. It was quiet. There was a peacefulness that simply didn’t fit the news.

Fort Nordric, the last bastion against the Fallen Lands, had fallen. They had just been fighting there a few short weeks ago.

Yet here, it was as if nothing had happened. People were at home with their families, asleep in bed, or quietly going about their lives. How long before that changed? In the north, it already had, but here… they likely did not even know the news yet. None of them knew what the future held, but with the Fallen Lands’ expansion, and the discovery of the warlock stronghold, one thing was certain—this peace was over. War had come, whether from warlocks or beasts, and Alveron would need an army.

Marcela approached from inside the bakery, rising from the tunnels below. “Hump. Everyone. I won’t keep you long, but I will be part of a command meeting in the morning and plan to speak with my father about the situation. I have a private room booked in a restaurant called the Major’s Mess for tomorrow at lunch. It was supposed to be to celebrate our return, but obviously things haven’t really ended up that way. If you’d like, the five of you can meet me there tomorrow and I’ll tell you all I can. My own party will be there, and I’ve invited Randall’s too.”

Hump glanced at his companions then nodded. “I think we’ll be there.”

Marcela nodded. “The room is available for the week, so show up when it suits you. I should be done with the meeting around lunch time, so feel free to get there early and enjoy the food.”

“Thank you, Marcela,” Bud said. “Give my regards to Count Daston.”

“I will,” Marcela said. “Goodnight. We’ll get through this. I know we will.”

***

The five of them were exhausted as they set off into the city. Without much need for discussion, Bud, Emilia, and Dylan broke off, heading toward the Rike Estate. Hump and Celaine, meanwhile, made their way to the safe house that the Three Eyes had prepared for them, weaving through the quiet streets beneath the clear sky.

Inside, Hump tended to Nisha first, making sure she had food and a generous bowl of water. Celaine busied herself in the kitchen pulling together a simple meal for the two of them. They ate together on the leather sofa in the living room, trying to speak of anything but the war looming on the horizon. Yet despite their efforts, there was no escaping the reminder outside. Through the cracked curtains, Hump saw the brilliant glow of god pillars descending across the city, and all sorts of colours. Beams that connected the gods to their Chosen. One of those might be Bud or Dylan receiving a new blessing. And no doubt, every single Chosen would view this as just one more sign that they were on the right path.

Later, in the dark of his room after he had eaten and bathed, sleep eluded Hump. He lay staring at the ceiling, eyes heavy but his mind racing. Thoughts of demons, siege lines, and everything they’d seen in the Remnant Realm weighed down on him like a curse. The voice of the angry god that had connected to him through the amulet was still fresh in his mind, echoing over and over, laced with his overwhelming power.

He idly petted Nisha’s head who slept beside him, his mind wandering to what the future might hold. Karlac might come for him once he left the city. Kassius might come for him if he remained. And if he did nothing… eventually the Fallen Lands would come for them all.

A soft knock broke the silence. Hump flinched, tensing, heart racing at the thought of Karlac finding him already.

“You awake?” Celaine’s voice came softly through the door.

“Ye—” the word came as a croak. Hump cleared his throat.” Yeah.”

The door creaked open, and Celaine stepped inside, just visible in the dark. She wore a loose nightgown, her hair falling about her shoulders in dark waves, and Hump found himself staring for a breath too long as she crossed to the bed and sat next to his leg. Her hand stroked Nisha’s sleeping form, the not-so-little dragon shifting but not waking.

“Can’t sleep either?” Hump whispered.

“No.” She sighed and, without asking, lay down beside him, Nisha nestled comfortably between them.

“What are you doing?” Hump asked, his voice somewhere between alarmed and excited.

“Your room’s quieter,” she murmured. “The city’s too loud for me. It makes me anxious.” They fell into a hush. Then Celaine whispered, “What do you think will happen next?”

Hump exhaled, staring at the ceiling again. He’d been asking himself the same question for the last hour. “A war to the north. Fort Nordric guarded a choke point and was supported by a large river running through it. The rest of the north is far more difficult to defend and will require a huge force. You remember the demons that we dealt with on the way to the fortress? The ones that slaughtered the village?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that entire area is swarmed with creatures just like that,” Hump said. “The Fallen Lands will claim the dukedom. The king will need a massive force to hold the line, which means conscripting soldiers just to form a new defensive line. The lack of workforce will mean food shortages. At the same time, we need to take on the warlock stronghold or the last seal will fall.”

“They will want us to help with that,” Celaine said.

“I expect so.” Hump nodded, then shifted his head on his pillow to look at her. Celaine lay still, her eyes shimmering with green as she stared at the ceiling, her hair splayed messily across the pillow. She breathed slow and steady.

“Do you really want to return to Drakalyn?” The question had plagued his thoughts as much as the demons. Sure, she wanted to help innocent people, but there was more to it than that. She was here for him. Risking her life to be with him. He couldn’t help but feel some guilt.

Celaine gave a half-smile. “Yes. But also no.”

“You don’t have to stay.” His voice was softer now, hesitant.

Without missing a beat, she turned onto her side, shifting beneath the blankets, propping her head on one hand as she met his gaze with a warmth that silenced him. “I’ll stay. We agreed we’d face whatever comes together, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.” Hump swallowed a lump in his throat. “I remember.”

The silence between them deepened, yet it felt comfortable. He lay there in the dark, listening to Celaine breathe, and before he knew it, he had drifted off.

The sun was up when he blinked awake, hardly aware that he’d fallen asleep. From the light that poured in through the gap in the curtains, it was late the next morning.

Shit, he thought. He’d overslept. They were due to meet Marcela and the rest of the squad soon, and it wasn’t something he wanted to be late for.

Half-distracted by the panic rising in his chest, his hand slid to his side, instinctively reaching for Nisha’s familiar form. Instead of rough scales, his fingers brushed against soft, warm skin.

Hump froze.

His heart climbed into his throat as the fog of sleep lifted instantly.

Celaine lay nestled against him, still sound asleep, her hair draped loosely over his arm, her arm over his chest.

Hump stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, not daring to move an inch.

Well... this was new.