The Bell Tolls for Me

98: Heaven and Hell



Edgar had prepared for this journey over the seas in ways that no other man could. He had taken to the sea before, but never like this. On a long voyage of unknown destination… he had to go personally. If he sent people to fight in his stead and they failed, it would alert Isabella of the fact that Edgar had discovered Isabella’s secret. Then, the element of surprise would be lost forevermore. In facing an opponent that possessed an ability like he, he couldn’t afford to fight conventionally.

To begin his preparations, he endured without sleep for nearly five days. That was a difficult thing to do, but entirely necessary in a discipline where knowing the weather was paramount. It confirmed to him that he would have fair weather for at least the start of the journey. That was a necessity. The weather was an unchanging element of this world.

After that, he had endeavored to understand the barrier that was preventing familiars from passing. After a thorough analysis, he was unable to locate the casters. This barrier didn’t seem to be something that needed to be maintained actively—they were likely far away. Breaking it would tip his hand just the same, so he didn’t. He was able to replicate their spell after hundreds and hundreds of days of analyzing its exact structure. Was it Arthur’s work, or someone greater? Either way, it was a solved matter. By mimicking it, he confirmed it wouldn’t be able to detect the physical presence of anyone.

Once the magical side was settled, the mundane needed to be worked out. Edgar maneuvered his personal vessel within striking distance of the fleet that was guarding the route to the place Isabella and Valerio were sailing to. Then, he conducted the same raid over and over again. Isabella had prepared a robust navy to guard the pass. That said, Edgar killed them again, and again, and again. He did it until he knew these men like the back of his hand, until he knew every single response they would make, until he knew every route to kill them without flaw.

He tortured them until he had all of the information he could ever want. They knew nothing of what they were assigned to guard. All it did was deepen his conviction that he was going to find something that could earn him freedom from the pressure of his wasting illness. If he could bring it home, he would. If not, he would make it his own in whatever way he could. Either way, he would deprive Isabella of any chance of beating him.

After he had ensured that Isabella’s navy wouldn’t trouble him, he set to the task of making sure this was no trap. Once they were actually passed the barrier that prevented familiars, they were able to freely use them. Most people tended to use familiars that were birds, simply because they were the most useful. This time, Edgar brought some people that had more aquatic familiars.

He had them scour the ocean. Indeed, Edgar decoupled with his own familiar, and welcomed a seal noted for its ability to brave cold waters. Day after day, night after night, they all scoured the ocean floor and all above it. He made sure that no manner of spellcaster could trick him. He made sure that there was nothing that could ruin his path to success, to freedom, to victory.

And when the ocean floor was sufficiently scouted, Edgar went ahead with his own vessel. He scouted the scene as much as he could, relying on the familiars of the others to conduct a robust survey of the skies, all the weather, and any landmasses. Those that possessed a familiar which could ascend very high in the sky reported something that set Edgar’s heart afire—an island, with structures made of stone on it.

Edgar knew it, then, that he was about to find the treasure that he sought. Amidst these countless days of endless preparation, he almost lost sight of why he was doing this. This endless repetition served a much larger purpose. If Isabella possessed an ability like his own, open confrontation was inviting disaster. She had already shown mastery in destroying his familiar. He couldn’t risk open war. It was what he feared most. The only way in which he could falter was facing one who could walk through time as he could.

On and on the days went, testing for any possibility of a trap, a scheme, a ruse. Edgar had never before repeated a day so many times. No matter how many times he received evidence that he wasn’t being lured, he made sure to double check it, triple check it. He must have lived at least thirty years out on that sea. He had his fun, of course, in Randen and elsewhere.

And then one day, after years uncountable of relentless preparation…

“I’m going,” Edgar declared.

The Archwizard, ever his faithful servant, nodded. “Then I will accompany you, Your Majesty.”

No further words were needed. Edgar got out of his bed and walked over to the plank leading up to the ship. He clambered aboard as he had thousands of times before. Only this time, things were different. This would be the final voyage.

***

Edgar executed the navy guarding the sea without flaw. He had done this far too many times to make a single mistake. He threw the same knife to pierce the same neck. He cast the same spell to burn the same fool. He shot the same crossbow bolt to break the same rope. He rode the same currents to slam into the same ship as ever. Before they even knew they were under attack, all of the most dangerous people were dead, and they were soon followed by those less dangerous.

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Execution without flaw. That was what he had spent his entire existence perfecting—millennia to master his body absolutely, so that it obeyed all of his whims. After facing this challenge, he felt renewed, revitalized. He felt the feeling of inevitability that he had lost after being stricken by the wasting illness. He would do this correctly, and he wouldn’t fail. It simply wasn’t possible.

Edgar walked through the rest of the battlefield like the god of death made flesh, effortlessly dismantling the guards that Isabella had painstakingly prepared. His carrack sailed onward through the mayhem as if completely untroubled. This, too, was just as he remembered it. This day was carved into his bones.

In less than a minute, the ocean was quiet. The only noise heard was the roaring of flame, the quiet creaking of the wood as it stayed adrift on the ocean. All watched him in total awe. All saw what they should see.

Edgar walked to the stern of the ship, peering out across the open ocean before them. He pointed his finger forward and shouted, “Onward!”

***

“Why are you so certain that Edgar will follow the leads you sprinkle behind?” Isabella questioned Bernadetta.

“Because I understand his multitude of flaws. The first is that he’s deathly afraid of you and your power,” Bernadetta said. “He knows firsthand the strength that he can wield. He’s been wielding it with reckless abandon for millennia. At even the slightest opportunity to sidestep you altogether, he won’t hesitate to take it. No one likes confronting their fears. You and your power… they are his fears.”

Isabella nodded. “You mentioned a multitude of flaws.”

“The second flaw is arrogance. No doubt you’ve seen it,” Bernadetta said. “Indeed, Arthur told me you took advantage of it to destroy his familiar and humiliate him. Even if he does think that he’ll be going into a trap, he’s overcome countless of them before. He thinks that he can master everything, even nature itself.”

“What else?” Valerio questioned.

“The third is the very thing that’s made him so formidable to begin with. Stubbornness. An unyielding will. It’s been his greatest asset, enabling him to persist through the most unimaginable mental anguish. It’s also the only thing capable of bringing ruin to him.” Bernadetta nodded with surety. “His stubbornness, his incapability to admit that something is beyond him, will ultimately be his undoing. He can’t admit that something is simply beyond him. He believes that he has no limits.”

Isabella exhaled nervously. “And if he’s right?”

“Well…” Bernadetta trailed off. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

***

“If anything happens while I’m asleep, don’t wake me. Just kill me, instantly,” he instructed the Archwizard.

“I’m all too familiar, Your Majesty. Rest assured, we’ll be watching for anything and everything unusual,” the Archwizard promised.

Edgar had spent another year or two making this same journey time and time again. He tried to get as far as he could without falling asleep, but this was his reasonable limit. Any further and he risked accidentally falling asleep, which would be an utter disaster for his plans.

What trap could they possibly have set that our spellcasters cannot overcome? Edgar thought, lying on the cot in the ship. I understand this ocean better than anyone that’s ever sailed it. I’ve made sure that absolutely nothing wrong can happen. Whether in the skies or at the bottom of the sea, there’s nothing that can cause me trouble. I’ve made sure of that.

Edgar closed his eyes, welcoming sleep. When next he awoke, he would be able to scout that island. And once he had, all would be revealed.

***

Edgar’s ship was settled. Even though the current that it travelled on was unusually strong, it was calmer now, permitting the king to get some sleep. Countless spellcasters patrolled the seas, just as countless others watched the sky. Seals, otters, and walruses scanned the ocean floor for anything that might cause alarm.

They passed by a shield buried in the sands of the ocean floor. Half-buried, it depicted a crescent moon with two stars just above it, giving one the impression of a smiling face. The familiar—a seal—examined the shield for a few moments, and then promptly moved on. Once the familiar was far, far out of sight, the stars on the shield shifted like eyes rolling back, peering where they’d left. Then, Balat’s eyes closed once more.

***

King Edgar opened his eyes. Then, the shipped rocked violently, as if struck. He slid off his cot, hitting the ground.

“Your Majesty?” the Archwizard came to him.

“What was that?” Edgar demanded.

“I… I don’t…” the Archwizard stammered.

Edgar stood up as quickly as he could and ran out of the door of his cabin. He burst out onto the decks, where countless of his men stared down below. Edgar himself came up to look, checking to see what was happening. He froze in place when he saw it.

Down deep beneath the surface of the ocean, there was a great fire blazing. Perhaps that wasn’t accurate. It might have been magma—but whatever it was, it was hot and bright enough to light up the whole of the ocean. The water all around was boiling—and this seemed to be merely the beginning of the tumult.

“Like peering into a volcano…” one of the sailors muttered in fear.

Edgar understood it, then. This was a trap. But who was he? Edgar the Great. There was no problem he couldn’t overcome. There was no enemy he couldn’t survive. He would prove it.

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