Chapter 36: The End of Conspiracy
She drew from the belt at her waist something I had never seen before—a palm-length wooden wand with an intricate carving at its head.
On the other side of the glass.
The creature's mouth was still moving, and the adult male personality in its eyes was tightening. It had realized.
It slammed its entire body against the glass!
"Bang!"
Dust fell from the ceiling in a shower, and a crack splintered across the glass. As it struck, Sevan on this side chanted under her breath, laying down one magical array after another. She showed not a trace of panic, only resolute determination in her eyes.
The creature grew frantic, its impacts accelerating. If the magical arrays fully formed, it would be unable to defeat Sevan in its underdeveloped state.
The instant the glass shattered, three layers of formations had already taken shape.
The creature squeezed through the crack. Its size forced the fissure to widen continuously. I hurried away from the glass, standing beside Sevan. It immediately collided with the first runic array. The array flared once, then shattered.
The second array held it for approximately three seconds.
As it broke through the second layer, one side of its body was scorched by the array's energy, emitting black smoke.
It struggled frantically before the third array. Its strength was immense, but Sevan's third array was the crystallization of her life's work. The core of that layer connected directly to her heart. I saw the black marking on her left wrist, and the moment the array blazed to life, it spread wildly.
She was using her own life to sustain that layer.
A thought struck me, and I retrieved from my satchel the last remaining vial of corrosive agent I had salvaged from the swamp battle.
I hurled the bottle toward where the creature struggled against the third array.
The bottle shattered against its body. The corrosive agent seeped along its twisted joints.
It released a scream that seemed to be wrung from the depths of its chest cavity.
That was the first sound it had made.
In that sound, Sevan raised her wand.
She uttered an incantation I could not comprehend.
Each syllable deepened the black marking on her arm by one degree.
By the final syllable, that marking had spread from wrist to shoulder.
When she finished, the carving at the wand's head blazed suddenly bright.
A beam of light shot from the wand's head, piercing through the center of the three arrays, striking the creature directly in its chest.
The creature released an even more piercing shriek and collapsed.
It fell in a posture as though the skeletal structure sustaining its existence had been instantly extracted. It contracted on the ground, its size diminishing, limbs shortening, lower body deforming.
Finally, it transformed into a human shape.
A man whose skin was covered in grotesque tattoos.
I had never seen his face before. But his face bore traces of that flowing black substance I had seen on the dark wizard's face in the swamp. The instant he died, that layer peeled away, revealing the ordinary human face beneath.
He convulsed on the ground several times, then ceased breathing.
The basement fell silent once more.
Sevan's wand slipped from her hand as she collapsed to her knees, gasping. I rushed over immediately to support her. The black marking on her left wrist had already covered her entire arm and was creeping toward her shoulder.
"Sevan, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," her voice was weak, "the dark magic's erosion will stop after he dies. Its source was him. When he died, it lost its driving force."
Her complexion remained deathly pale, but in her eyes there was a light I had never seen since setting foot in this manor.
"I can endure it."
It was the kind of release that belongs only to someone who has been tormented by their own demons for fifteen years, arriving at last at the end.
With my support, she slowly rose to her feet.
She walked to the man lying on the ground and looked at him for a while.
She did not kick him, did not curse him, said nothing at all.
"Let's go outside," she said. "I need the wind from the garden."
Inside the abandoned castle.
The second scarecrow ignited silently.
Like the first scarecrow, fire grew directly from its chest cavity. After a dozen seconds, that scarecrow turned to ash and fell where it stood.
Now ten remained.
The remaining ten people stood outside that circle of scarecrows. Their positions were the same as last time.
The one who had spoken first stopped before that newly appeared pile of ash.
"Only two months until he could have returned," he said.
"Fifteen years of investment," another person continued.
"One night."
They all knew precisely what had just occurred in the northwestern mountains. The vessel they had cultivated for nearly fifteen years was about to be absorbed into their system. Their circle of twelve would be complete once more, bringing them to their perfect state.
So many years of conspiracy and deception, vanished in a single night.
"That princess," the first speaker said.
"After the dragon's intervention, her movements became unpredictable," the others answered.
"Her last known location."
"Coincides with the eliminated vessel's position."
Two direct assassination attempts. Two failures. She was merely an ordinary person without magic or swordsmanship—it should not have been this difficult.
"The plan to kill the princess must be accelerated," the first speaker said.
"Send the impersonators."
I draped Sevan's right hand over my shoulder, supporting her as we emerged from the basement door. The black marking on her left arm was slowly receding, but the incantation that had killed the dark wizard had drained her of all strength.
In the garden.
The morning light had fully unfurled. The temperate plants in the garden appeared more vibrant in that light than when I had first seen them yesterday evening. Greenvine leaves still held dew condensed during the night. Sunbell petals had opened completely.
Those serpents remained in various positions throughout the garden. Seeing Sevan emerge, they all slithered out to follow at her feet.
"Did your husband leave them for you?"
"No, this is my birthright. But because of him, I no longer felt myself a monster."
The surrounding serpents parted to create a path for us, leading toward that grave in the garden.
That grave stood in the garden's northwestern corner. Now that I was closer, I could see the words on the headstone.
The language of those words I recognized. It was Common Tongue.
The inscription was brief.
"My beloved, I shall remain with you."
I supported Sevan as we walked to the headstone, and she asked me to release her. She stood alone for a moment, then slowly crouched down. Her knees touched the grass before the headstone as she descended, the grass was wet, and dew soaked the hem of her dress.
She raised her right hand.
Her right hand trembled slightly in that moment.
She placed her right hand on the headstone. Her fingers traced along the letters of the name "Serqathi" carved there. She traced each letter with her fingertips.
When she finished tracing, her hand stopped at the top of the headstone. The manner in which she wept was the same manner in which she told stories. Without sound, without gasping breaths.
But her tears flowed continuously.
Those tears traveled down her cheeks, reaching her jawline, then falling onto the shoulder of her dark dress. She did not reach up to wipe them away. She let those tears complete their journey on their own.
Her gaze never left the name "Serqathi" on the headstone.
I retreated to the garden's edge, unwilling to disturb her. I occupied myself by identifying the species of snakes on the ground.
I did not know how long she crouched there. Minutes became hours. The light in the garden slowly shifted during that time, the angle of the shadow falling on the headstone changing from one position to another.
Those serpents remained quietly at the garden's edge. They too were waiting.
She finally stood.
The tears on her face had dried, leaving two faint traces. She turned around and glanced at me. Her face held an eerie calm.
She nodded at me once.
I understood the meaning of that nod. She was telling me she had finished. She was telling me she had left all her emotions before that headstone.
She drew from the belt at her waist that wooden wand, then turned the wand's head toward herself.
She pressed the position of the wand's head against her heart.
My movements were extraordinarily swift—I crossed the distance and seized her wrist before the wand could glow.
She looked up at me without struggling. But those serpents on the ground had already gathered rapidly around my feet, several flicking their tongues as they coiled around my ankles. Judging by the patterns on their bodies, a single bite would be my death.
I was now dancing on flames.