Redemption Arc

While Miriam was pretending to show off her new prosthetic leg, she was truly explaining the conversation that she just had with Enoch. Lucian was just as horrified as she clearly was. Even ignoring the fact that they had revived the Black Bloom, they had managed to persuade Enoch to take less than democratic means to achieve his aims. There couldn’t have been a more disastrous coup in favor of the devils.

“He claims that he trusts me… and he must, given what he disclosed,” Miriam said, demonstrating her prosthetic leg’s flexibility. “But today, he wants me to both learn the cure and become a carrier for the modified disease.”

Lucian pretended that he was marveling at her prosthetic. “If you learn it… doesn’t that mean that we can just spread the cure to the others?”

“If you’ll remember, Cyril was unable to halt the progression of the disease,” Miriam pointed out. “That was something that even we managed to achieve. There was no way that Cyril wouldn’t have tried that on himself were it possible. I think that they must be attempting to spread his particular strain, which is much more resistant to alchemical intervention.”

“Good lord…” Lucian muttered. He felt dread as an ungodly foe appeared—one of the many forces of nature, harnessed to an enemy’s whim. “And what’s the timeline that we have, exactly?”

“It takes about a month for the Black Bloom to become serious. Another two months, it can render hands or feet useless. Then, depending on the constitution and the level of treatment… well, Duke Cyril had it six months, and you saw his condition,” Miriam reminded him. She put the prosthetic back inside and closed the case. “And this was one of the most formidable combatants in all of the four great powers. It will be much more potent on ordinary people.”

Lucian closed his eyes. “And when the disease is at its apogee, that’s probably when the demons are going to invade in force.”

“That seems logical.” Miriam picked up the case. “Tell Rowan. Strategize. I’ll try to do what I can to gather information on the inside.”

Lucian narrowed his eyes. “We should get you the hell out of here,” he insisted. “All of us should leave.”

“We will,” Miriam said. “But we need something more to go off of. We’ll stay in the city for a day. If you break my cover, I could die… so try to act like nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Lucian asked.

“I want to vomit,” she said with a smile. “Then I want to go lie in my room stay there for three days. I want to do so many rash things… but you can’t get everything that you want. I’ll make it.”

Leaving that, Miriam brooked no more argument. She went over to Enoch once more as he chatted with Ruth and the other Student Ambassadors, leaving Lucian standing there shaken. He tried not to let it show on his face. Right now, she needed their cooperation. And their cooperation meant acting like they knew nothing.

***

They had already been planning to take a day to allow Miriam to collect samples of the Black Bloom to bring back to Charlton Lowenthal, but the wait for that became infinitely more stressful in the wake of what was revealed. They had purchased lodgings at an inn in the city. Rowan and Lucian met privately to discuss what they’d learned.

“Belcourt heard me talk about the cure,” Lucian told Rowan, his leg bouncing anxiously as he sat there. “What if this was a deliberate bait to bring out Miriam? Good lord, Rowan, did I just let her walk to her d—”

“Stop,” Rowan said firmly. “Miriam isn’t stupid, nor is she someone that would just meekly accept death. She can tell a lie with the best of them, and she can read people as well as I can. You’re worrying for nothing. We need to stop talking about that and start focusing on what we need to do after she gets back to us. Do we cancel this venture?”

Lucian had thought about nothing else since he what was happening. That said, the ritual he’d felt alarmed him. He didn’t know if it was something that Enoch was privy to, but in the chance that he was entirely ignorant of it, going to the Hells was the best way to locate it expediently.

“I don’t think we can afford to. That’d alert Enoch. Maybe the demons, besides.” Lucian rubbed his hands together. “We should definitely cut out the extraneous sections. No detours to fight great beasts of the jungle. That said, we might have to extend the journey deeper into the Hells to make sure that Enoch isn’t being backdoored somehow.” He shook his head. “He’s not the first fool to think that he could use the demons to his own ends, only to be horribly outplayed.”

Rowan nodded in agreement. “And what about Enoch himself?”

“Well, he definitely lost my vote,” Lucian said dryly, understanding Miriam’s desire to vomit. “I guess… I guess he’ll have to die.”

“You don’t think we should just expose what he’s done?” Rowan questioned.

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“Would taint Miriam. Would involve a lot of people in a life-or-death struggle. And worst of all, it might not even work. I seriously doubt he’s acting alone,” Lucian pointed out. “Unless Miriam uncovers otherwise, this thing starts and ends with him. We’ll… we’ll figure something out. I kept some of Aisha’s poison. That ultra potent poison I told you about,” he explained.

Rowan didn’t look entirely comfortable with the prospect of poisoning someone, but he also didn’t open his mouth to argue with anything that Lucian was saying. He took that as tacit approval.

“Should we tell the others before or after Miriam gets back?” Rowan asked.

Lucian deliberated for a few moments. “After. Best not to take any risks, right?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

***

Belcourt received a report that he’d been waiting for… and somewhat dreading. He received it on an elevated throne.

“The dummy ritual that we established in the elven city reacted with an Inquisitor’s Mark, as you said it would, milord,” the messenger said—a putrid imp. “As a matter of fact, it reacted twice. There must be two marks.”

Belcourt didn’t reply to the messenger. He was feeling vexed. He had been operating with the assumption that there was nothing his opponents didn’t know. That led him to believe that they might take his arm to the Golemancer, where its full potential might be extracted. He knew the inner workings of the Mark thoroughly, and knew it would react to a demonic ritual large enough. He also knew how to trace that reaction. His safety net had alerted him to coming predators. But…

“Two marks?” Belcourt repeated.

“Yes. This was double, triple, quadruple verified,” the imp said obsequiously. “But if you’d like, I can immediately return and—"

“Alright, alright,” Belcourt said dismissively. “Leave me.”

At that, the imp rose to its stubby legs and started scampering off into the darkness from once it came. Belcourt stood and walked over to a window. He was inside a frontier fortification in the Hells. Ordinarily such forts were unnecessary. This region of the Hells was the First Emperor’s domain, almost utterly. Yet… one pocket of resistance remained. A place that the First Emperor deemed entirely too costly to subjugate.

Belcourt peered out of the windows to the Citadel of the Golemancer. It was built with a very unusual design that Belcourt would liken to a star. The torsos of giants had been planted on each point of the star, armed with two gargantuan ballistae on each arm. A giant of steel patrolled the outside, each of its footfalls sending quakes through the ground. Countless golem soldiers wandered near and atop this fortification, watching for intruders without an end.

Such a fortification was the perfect spearhead for an invasion. Its only living resident preferred to keep isolated to the point of ridiculousness, but if that changed… if he became an enemy, harboring a counterattack… it would be beyond disruptive. But how in the world could the True Divine Beast’s followers convince that ancient monster to fight on their side? He didn’t see how… but then, he also hadn’t seen so much coming lately. It was a bit of a blow to his pride as a tactician.

He had to consult the Master. A preemptive strike might be in order. Usually he’d just go ahead, but given the stakes of this battle, he needed express permission. Either way…

My arm might still be out there, he thought hopefully. But if they’re in New Riverra at all, they might know everything already. We should consider the Black Bloom exposed.

Vexing. Nothing but vexing.

***

Lucian didn’t sleep that night out of worry. He almost would’ve preferred Villeth making a pitstop in N’narathazni than the return of the Black Bloom. That was an enemy he could fight, at least—but this? And that wasn’t even mentioning the predicament that Miriam was putting herself in. If she didn’t come back from this, what could they even do? Was anyone was capable of taking her place? He highly doubted it.

She didn’t return by morning. She didn’t return by lunchtime, either—though perhaps calling it lunchtime wasn’t accurate, because Lucian skipped his. He sat in his room on the second story, looking out the window. And then… he spotted her, walking calmly with her case in hand.

Lucian immediately ran down the stairs as fast as he could to greet her. He almost rushed out into the streets, but he waited. No need to make a scene. Rowan was already waiting there, and he looked at Lucian questioningly. Before he could even ask his question, he received his answer as the door opened.

Miriam spotted Lucian and entered wordlessly, shutting the door behind her.

“Are you alright?” Lucian asked, stepping closer.

Miriam held her hand out. “You should keep your distance from me from now on.”

Rowan stood. “Meaning… it happened? You went through with it?”

Miriam nodded gravely. “And I definitely made the right choice to try and learn more.” She closed her eyes. “He has my entire family hostage. ‘Safe’ was the word he used, but… well, I suppose hostages are generally kept quite safe. That’s because they have value. It’s silent pressure to keep me cooperative. I suppose that’s not the important bit for you.” She opened her eyes. “Enoch is entirely ignorant of ritual that you sensed, Lucian. I’m certain of it.”

Lucian expected as much. The journey into the Hells became considerably more important.

“Have you told the others yet?” Miriam asked.

“We didn’t want them to give anything away,” Rowan explained.

“Tell them now,” Miriam said. “I agreed to this because Charlton needs a sample, but I want them to understand what they’re getting into before I step any deeper inside. The monastics are supposedly immune from the ravages of disease, but they should still be informed.”

Lucian exhaled a sigh of relief. Miriam was alright. But… how would the others take this news? Would they be able to put aside the differences the election had made in them?