TurtleMe
ARTHUR LEYWIN
The constant drone of the train’s rapid progress through its underground tunnel dulled my senses and blocked the outside world. In the dark of the tunnel, there was only the steady but dim light of our cabin lighting artifact and the occasional flash of a lit service platform through the carriage window. Tessia slept beside me, having drowsed off with her head on my shoulder.
Six months…
It seemed both forever and no time at all. Things had progressed so quickly. New governments. New technologies. An entirely new paradigm for most people.
The appearance of Epheotus in the sky and the Relictombs Spire on the horizon had not been welcomed by everyone, and the world’s new ruling bodies had their hands full just keeping the peace and encouraging everyone to remain hopeful.
I wasn’t sure if it helped that the asuras had largely remained out of sight so far. For most people, they were a source of fear, although there was a vocal faction in Dicathen that had called for the asuras to guide us as god-kings instead of relying on “lesser” leaders. Ironically, my letters from Seris and Caera—President of the Alacryan Assembly, Caera Denoir, that is—indicated that the Alacryans were much more resistant to the idea of new asuran leadership than the Dicathians. I suppose it makes sense. They did live under Agrona.
My gaze drifted from Tessia’s peaceful, sleeping face down to her stomach, where her hands rested. In this relaxed posture, and knowing to look for it, I could just see the slight bump of her belly. Gently, so as not to wake her, I pressed my hand to her stomach. It was too early for anything as obvious as movement, but I could feel the tiny life sparks inside her, separate from her own. Two of them.
Drawing back my hand, I let my head lean against the padded rest behind me and closed my eyes, a smile lingering on my lips. My focus turned inward in an act of meditation that was as familiar as the sound of my own voice. Drawing strength from within myself was clarifying, both mentally and physically. I felt the same warm glow that Ellie described when Boo would fortify her through their bond.
With my senses reinforced, the noise and vibration of the train were amplified, but my enhanced focus cut through the noise, letting me pick out small details I might not otherwise notice. Outside the window, the dim tunnel walls seemed to creep slowly past, and I was able to feel the life sparks of my family in their own cabins up and down the train.
I pushed farther, and I began to glow faintly.
“Mm,” Tessia mumbled, turning her head slightly as subtle light played across the surface of my skin. Without opening her eyes, she added, “Get some sleep, Arthur.”
“Sorry,” I said softly, then kissed the top of her head. “I’m too excited to sleep. After all, we’re getting married in three days.”
“We already got married, or did you forget?” she asked without opening her eyes.
“Wait, did we?” I pressed a finger to my lips in mock thought. “Quiet little ceremony in the backyard? You, gleaming in white? Giant goldfish kept jumping out of the lake in the background? I’m sorry, I don’t recall.”
A smile played across her face like light across water, bright and shimmering. “You’re so cheesy.”
I poked her in the side, making her twitch. “You love cheese,” I teased.
“Rey and Rin love cheese,” she answered. Opening her eyes, she straightened in the seat and placed a hand on her stomach.
Her words caught me like an unexpected blow to the gut, and I had to remind myself to breathe. Reynolds and Rinia Leywin. I was going to be a father.
I swallowed hard, breathless in the aftermath of the sudden emotion.
A single fine line appeared between Tess’s brows. “Have you eaten anything since we boarded? Your body can’t survive without food and sleep anymore.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, forced to acknowledge, at least to myself, that I was indeed both tired and a bit hungry. “I’ll go grab something. I just wanted to get a few rotations in. Besides, someone was asleep on my shoulder.”
It was her turn to poke me in the side. “Don’t start blaming me for that,” she teased, “as if I haven’t been sending Hela to ambush you with snacks at all hours, just to make sure you get some kind of sustenance. There is an entire car on this train dedicated to preparing food, so you might as well take advantage of it.”
I raised my hands in surrender. “You’re right, of course. I’m trying to be better. To take care of myself.”
She bit her lip, then scooted to lay her head on my shoulder again. “Made any breakthroughs?”
I paused before answering. We had both been so busy that I hadn’t fully apprised Tessia of everything I had done. As de facto leader of the decimated elven nation, she was handling most of Elenoir’s political negotiations with the rest of our new, more complex world. Though the small elven population hadn’t officially agreed on any sort of ruling body yet, their eyes had collectively turned toward Virion and Tessia as the two remaining Eraliths. And Tessia had risen to that call, doing everything within her power to ensure that, after the land was rehabilitated, every surviving elf would have a home in Elenoir.
It helped, she liked to joke, that she was married to the man who had saved the world, which gave her a lot of political capital to spend.
“It’s…hard to say,” I admitted after a moment, having to remind myself when we’d last discussed my advances. “The last fragments of Myre’s will have faded, but I haven’t noticed any negative effects on my body.”
Mana pulsed through the train carriage. “It feels like the aether must be pretty thick around us, but you don’t seem to have much circulating in your body, no. A bit of mana, like everyone,” Tessia noted. Although still a white core mage—her training with Varay had gone well but hadn’t yet led to a breakthrough in Integration—Tessia’s knowledge and senses benefited from her time connected to Cecilia.
I sat in silent thought, my eyes wandering around our little cabin. The train had a cozy, comfortable design that felt very unlike something Gideon or Wren would have invented. Rich, polished wood made up the walls, while soft green leather adorned the seats, tufted and treated to be long-lasting and flame retardant.
I sound like Gideon making his sales pitch, I thought with amusement.
“Arthur?”
Tessia’s voice wrenched me back into our conversation. “Right. Sorry. I was just admiring the craftsmanship of this train.” Without King’s Gambit, I’d felt these lapses of focus more regularly. An aftereffect of relying on the godrune so heavily, which I was hopeful would fade with time. “I’m fine, honestly. I feel…good. Great, even.”
“I’m glad.” Her fingers wove through mine. “If this channeled life force—this ki—gives you the power to stay with me for a very very long time, Arthur, then I support you doing whatever you need to, and I’ll help you however I can.”
“Mmm…” I gazed into her teal eyes. “Have I ever told you I love you?”
Her lips quirked up on one side as she struggled to suppress a grin. “On occasion."
There was a subtle shift in the feel of the train’s motion as it climbed up a shallow slope, then the dark tunnel vanished, and our cabin was bathed in natural morning light. The sun was still hidden by the Grand Mountains directly to the east. At this angle, the Relictombs Spire was just visible along the edge of the window, looming up out of the mountains to the southeast.
“Seems we’re almost there,” Tessia said, tension causing her voice to rise. “This is going to be the last time we can just…be together for a little while.”
I nodded, absently running the back of my fingers along her arm. “I don’t know why I agreed to stay in Xyrus and help Vanesy work aether into the school’s new curriculum.”
She snorted indelicately. “Yes you do.”
I regarded my wife with amusement. “I know this is just a public ceremony and not our real wedding, but we never actually did get a honeymoon. I should come with you to Elenoir instead. There is time for the rest of it. My promises to Fate…I’m not sure it even makes sense to start worrying about the aether so soon. We need more time to research, to understand the new Relictombs. I could still back out…”
She shook her head, growing more serious. “It’ll only be a month or two.” My eyes jumped automatically down to her stomach, and her expression softened. “I’ll be fine, and you’ll be done long before these two arrive.”
My chest tightened with anxiety. “Then I’ll cancel my trip to Epheotus afterwards. The other high lords can have one meeting without me—”
“Arthur Leywin.”
I clenched and unclenched my fists, tamping down the apprehension.
Tessia grabbed my face in her hands and pulled me down for a kiss. I sank into her as she drew out my rising anxiety like venom from a wound. When she released me, I let myself slump back into the cushy seat and sighed.
“The asuras are even more lost than we are down here,” she said, repeating my own words back to me. “We both know that they can’t have a meeting without you. You said it yourself: they’re being forced to move at a dangerous pace, in their own eyes. That opens our world up to danger as well.”
“I know.” I pouted down at her, then turned to look back out the window. We were too far to see the base of the Spire, where it had subsumed the demolished remains of the Wall and miles of surrounding mountainside, but we were close enough to fully appreciate the size of it. The Relictombs Spire made the towering Grand Mountains seem anything but. “But…I already saved the world, didn’t I?”
She laughed, a light chiming that made my stomach flutter even after all this time. “Let’s hurry up and get all this out of the way so we can focus on Reynolds and Rinia when they get here, okay?”
We settled into each other’s arms and closed our eyes, our breaths falling in sync. But the moment did not last long, as the doors to our carriage flew open with an expensive-sounding crack, the curtains across the windows immediately tangling.
“Oops,” Chul said as he shimmied through the opening, which was just barely large enough for his bulk. He threw himself down on the seat across from us, his arms stretched out along its back, and kicked one leg up over the other. His mismatched eyes gleamed in the indirect sunlight. “My brother, I still do not understand why we are riding in this burrowing worm instead of flying. The journey to Xyrus City would have been much shorter.”
“Chul, it’s generally polite to knock before entering through a closed door,” Tessia reminded the lumbering half-phoenix gently.
“Oops,” he repeated. “There is so much to learn about your culture. I will dedicate myself to the mastery of your many, many, many strange rules.”
“How is that a—you know, never mind.” Tessia shot me a secret smile. “Regardless, we appreciate you traveling with us. Gideon was very excited to arrange this train specifically for us to reach Xyrus.”
Xyrus Academy wasn’t yet open, and Vanesy had agreed to host our second—public—wedding ceremony there. I hadn’t felt it necessary to share the event with the world, but Tessia had eventually convinced me—after she’d been pressured from a dozen different directions—that a public show of our union would be a beacon of hope to a fearful continent.
Ellie appeared at the door, yawned, and slumped into the seat beside Chul, nudging him with one foot to scoot over, which he did. “Moon and stars, I’m still sore. At least when you trained with Kordri, you were in that—what did you call it? The ‘soul realm’ or whatever? I wish I wasn’t using my real body.”
“You’re right. I just had to die over and over again,” I quipped. “You remember what that’s like?”
She blanched. “Yeah. Never mind, I guess.” Her head turned toward Chul. “I forgot to ask yesterday. Is Naesia going to be joining us at the ceremony?”
Chul nodded, an unabashed grin spreading over his broad features. “She will be part of the asuran delegation in attendance.”
“Just remember, it’s bad form to get engaged at someone else’s wedding,” Ellie teased.
He grunted, resting his hands behind his head. “Such things do not happen so fast for my people. A courtship may last decades, even centuries.”
Ellie barked out a laugh. “Really? Because not so long ago, all those asuran princesses were swarming around my brother like hungry halcyons.”
“Wait, what’s this?” Tessia sat upright, her brows rising dramatically. “Princesses chasing Arthur?”
I rolled my eyes, pulling her back to my side, having already heard this teasing a dozen times or more.
Chul only shrugged at Ellie and Tessia. “Sometimes one waits patiently for the prey to arrive, other times one must strike like the Hades Serpent to ensure the catch.”
Ellie snorted, shaking her head. “Prey, huh?”
“And sometimes,” Sylvie said suddenly, appearing in the doorway with Regis, “even the most ancient of beings lack the context and experience for real wisdom or grace.”
“Aren’t you basically an infant among your own kind?” Regis said from behind her with a chuckle. “Even Chul is, what, five times your age?”
Sylvie hip-checked him, smirking. “Age is not a simple thing to calculate for us anymore, is it?”
Tessia patted the seat beside her, indicating for Sylvie to sit with us. “This is exactly why it’s so essential that we keep up a steady exchange of ideas and cultural values. As important as it is to have Arthur representing us as an archon among the great lords, according to Mordain, the impetus is on us to take the lead in building relationships with the asuras of Epheotus.”
Sylvie sat and took Tess’s hand in both of her own, squeezing gently. “They are slow to change. Much of what my grandfather did was ensure they didn’t change at all, in fact.”
“It is true,” Chul said, his voice vibrating through the carriage. “Until the asuras learn to see you as more than ‘lessers,’ it will be unwise to give them too much authority over you. Their respect for Arthur’s place among them will only carry any alliance so far.”
The conversation turned into familiar territory, and I felt my focus slip away, my gaze moving to the window. The train ran along the foot of the Grand Mountains, which seemed to crawl slowly past despite our speed. A once little-used road ran parallel to the tracks here, and there were a dozen carts and even more people on foot, following the road south. Most turned to stare in wonder as the train rushed past.
Based on my understanding of the rail line, our surfacing meant we were nearly to the Xyrus station. And waiting for us would be the bustle of preparation, far too many insistent—and barely polite—requests for meetings and handshakes, the pleading need for constant assurance from every direction, the second guessing, the finger pointing…
In an hour, I would be wishing for the peace and privacy of this train carriage again.
After that would come the work at the academy, and a meeting of the Great Eight. And of course, there were the multiple requests I’d received from the Ascenders Association in Alacrya to discuss structural changes now that there was no High Sovereign to control the flow of relics. And a whole stack of invitation letters to join as many different adventuring groups here in Dicathen, even if only as an honorary member. And an official audience with the new king of the dwarves, which I’d been putting off for months. And apparently, they’d conjured a statue of me over Mirror Lake, for which the representative from Char had been trying to get me to come to an official unveiling.
And on and on and on.
It would die down eventually, I knew, and Tessia was right: checking the boxes was necessary for us to spend time as a family, with our children. But that wouldn’t be the end. If anything, it would be when the real work would start.
And not just parenting, I thought with a soft smile.
The Everburn Fountain in the Relictombs Spire would continue to release aether until the cyst that was the aetheric void finally collapsed. Its flow fed the Relictombs, providing the power for all of the djinn’s designs, but the Rings of Epheotus relied on an interplay of gravity and atmospheric aether, ensuring they wouldn’t simply collapse again in five hundred years.
Still, upholding my promise to Fate—fulfilling the vision I showed it—would require more than just the fountain’s constant output. It eased the pressure, but it did not solve the problem. Without additional release, the Everburn Fountain was likely to erode or potentially collapse entirely, signalling another catastrophe.
The real promise of the Spire wasn’t in the aetheric outlet it provided but rather the knowledge stored there. Wide-spread use of aether would amplify the rate at which we could deflate the aetheric realm significantly. And with help from the dragons—led by those willing to teach, like Vireah and her mother—our chance of success only rose.
And with Fate appeased and the aetheric realm lanced, its pressure diminished, this world would really be saved.
Except, of course, from whatever Kezess feared. The stray thought was like a shot in my arm, and I stiffened, sitting up straight. I hadn’t thought of Kezess’s warnings in weeks. It was perhaps my one regret, that I hadn’t had more time with Myre in the end, to try to more fully understand. But it had been difficult to worry about the phantom fears of a megalomaniac deity in the face of all the very present problems that demanded my constant attention.
“And yet one of us remains silent on the subject. Will you still not tell us, my brother?” Chul asked.
My mind struggled to shift back into gear, and I realized that my mother and Virion had gotten up to join us as well. I’d been so deep in thought, I hadn’t even felt their life sparks approaching.
As I struggled to piece together what they were talking about, Ellie punched Chul in the arm. “He’s my brother. That’s what I call him!”
Standing, I stepped over Regis, who was shuffling into the open floor between the benches, gestured for Mom to take my seat, and posted up in the doorway instead.
She scratched Regis behind the ear, then settled in next to Tessia, smiling and fixing a loose lock of my wife’s hair. “What were we talking about?”
“We’re trying to bully Arthur into telling us what they’ve decided to name the world,” Ellie explained.
Virion, who sat on the edge of the seat next to my sister, shot me a look, and I gave a small shake of my head.
“Nope, not telling,” I said.
It had never struck me as strange before that they had no name for the world itself, but since the Confluence, it had suddenly become a regular topic of conversation. I knew the djinn had their own name for it during their time, and I had been forced to wonder how many names had lived and died with the world’s population…
My jaw tightened. Feeling eyes on me, I turned slightly; Tessia was staring at the side of my head with concern. I squeezed her leg just above the knee, making her jump, then mouthed, “I’m fine.”
She gave me a wry look. “Personally, I think ‘Artoria’ would be a good name. Very strong and handsome-sounding.”
Ellie and Regis both snickered, looked at each other and said, “Gross,” simultaneously, and then laughed even louder.
Tessia’s head cocked slightly to one side. “Really, Eleanor? I swear that young smith’s apprentice from Ashber keeps making any excuse to make deliveries to the estate—”
I zoomed fully back in on the conversation. “Wait, what’s this?”
“What?!” Ellie said, turning red and avoiding my eyes. She jerked her thumb at Virion beside her. “Gramps here can have a girlfriend, but I can’t even talk to a boy?”
Virion blinked, then cleared his throat and raised his hands in front of him in a gesture of warding. “Not sure how I got dragged into this! Besides, we’re not—it’s just friendly companionship, we haven’t put a name on it…” He shot my sister a glare as if to say, we’ll be talking about this later, but Ellie only squinted in defiance.
“You know, I had a thought about the name thing a few days ago,” Mom chimed in proudly. “If they wanted to be clever, they would combine some form of the three continents—or two continents and the rings, or whatever you want to call them. Like…Dilacreotus.”
The cabin was silent for a moment, then burst out in laughter. Chul slapped his knee, Ellie buried her hands in her face, Tessia bit her lip but tried to nod encouragingly, and Virion said, “Well, it’s an idea.”
“Don’t listen to this bunch of cackling toads, hon. I think it’s got real promise.” Regis winked at my mother, and I resisted the urge to kick him. “Personally, though, I think they’re nuts if they don’t go with my suggestion.”
“Which is?” my mother asked, half amused, half apprehensive.
“Regis-land!” he exclaimed proudly.
Chul followed through with my urge, giving him a playful kick on the rump.
I held my tongue, letting them have their fun.
In the intervening time since the Confluence, I had finally gotten around to going through Haneul’s recorded memories from the memory crystal that had revealed Fate’s infallibility. The single memory crystal contained a treasure trove of information about the Relictombs and the djinn.
They had been a constantly evolving people, and their worldview was no different. To them, names had power and could evolve along with the insight into a thing—such as Aroa’s Requiem—and so they had many names for the world over the course of their civilization.
And names for what their world hadn’t even yet become, but which they aspired to. Translated, their idealized world meant something like, to be crowned in peace.
Ji-ae had helped me understand and, in a way, given the djinn people’s blessing for its use. The great lords of Epheotus had begrudgingly accepted it—their default position was that the world was now Epheotus, since Epheotus was a part of the world—while Virion had argued that, since it was my idea, it was clearly the right one. I wasn’t sure I agreed, but the other world leaders had, and so…
I kept my silence as the others argued playfully, with the conversation eventually ending as Regis proclaimed: “All I hear are a lot of examples of names that aren’t as good as Regis-land.”
We fell into the easy banter of family, and I was almost sad when the brakes of the train squealed, cutting through the pleasant conversation and announcing our imminent arrival.
“Whoa!”
As Ellie exclaimed, the rest of us followed her gaze out the window. We’d reached the terminal beneath Xyrus, which would eventually be a central station for all of the trains running throughout Dicathen. And although this was an interesting sight, it was not what had caught Ellie’s attention.
Standing on the arrival platform—and all around it, stretching too far to be seen through the small window—was a sea of people. The noise of their cheering suddenly grew loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the train.
I focused on face after face as they went by, each one split by a grin or in the midst of an ecstatic shout. Elves, dwarves, and humans appeared for a few seconds before vanishing again. Then I made out a three-eyed pantheon, and a horned basilisk. And a small group dressed in an Alacryan style.
“What are all these people doing here?” Suddenly, I flashed back to the unusual crowd on the road.
“I guess our arrival wasn’t quite as secret as you’d hoped,” Virion said, although he did not sound unpleased. “Look at all those people.”
Everyone sat frozen for a long moment, not looking at the crowd but rather at me, expressions questioning.
With my hope to reach the relative peace and comfort of the currently empty academy before gathering a crowd extinguished, I led the way through the train toward the nearest exit with a sigh.
Regis padded up beside me as I hesitated, staring down at the train doors and listening to the cacophony of sounds outside. “You want me and Chul to clear the way?”
Through the haze of memory, I recalled my years of training in my past life and how I’d regulated my shallow ki pool before a fight. Now, after all this time, I repeated that ritual, letting it calm me. “No, it’s okay.”
Standing tall, I descended to the doors, which slid open just as I reached them. The platform was utterly silent. I looked around at the crowd, so raucous and excited only an instant ago, now all staring in rapt attention. They filled the platform, the station’s head house, the second-story balcony around the house, and the alleys between the head house and auxiliary buildings that supported the in-progress junction. And just further, I could see people stretching out into the flattened, undeveloped dirt lot beyond.
Then, almost as one, as if it had been orchestrated, they bowed.
A knot formed in the base of my throat as I slowly panned from one side of the crowd to the other, still picking out new details. Pockets of dwarves mingled with elves, Alacryans with people from Sapin, and asuras were dotted throughout. Three old men sat on a bench in front of the station house, with the crowd parting to allow them to see, while a gaggle of children had crawled onto several stacked crates, taking it in turns to elbow each other whenever a head would start to rise out of their bows.
My gaze caught on a head of ashy brown hair and scruff of beard, and the knot in my throat turned hot and constricting. But it wasn’t my father, of course. So many faces in the crowd were familiar, but none of them were my family.
No, my family now stood behind me, supporting me as they always had.
It was for them that I’d been fighting since I was a child in this world. To keep them safe, to allow them to be happy. And it was my family, both those present and those who we’d lost, who had been there to push me through even my darkest moments. When the Lances were against me, or the kings and queens, or Kezess and Agrona. Or Fate itself. My family had stood by my side despite the danger, always trusting me to lead them through.
But, as I looked around at the crowd, bent in silence, some of the anxiety and worry I felt melted like spring frost in the morning sun.
They had come together here in dignity, in peace, from all across the world. Now, they would need to support each other with the same courage that my family had supported me, to fight for each other with the same determination for which I’d fought for my family.
I considered again the djinn’s name for their idealized future. To them, everyone would be united in a world where shared peace ruled, not individual authority or overwhelming power. Even as the dragons set on them, those like Haneul never gave up on creating the world they knew was possible.
To be crowned in peace. An idealized future where the lowliest peasant and the most powerful dragon could both exist without fear or disdain. To the djinn, aether was the common denominator, a great equalizer, but in a world where peace had truly been made king, it would be respect that brought everyone to the level of equals.
I stepped forward, my heart full and spirit warm as the crowd, the gathered people of this new world, slowly rose. A whisper ran through them as I returned the bow, holding it for just as long as they had. A symbol of shared respect.
Our world wasn’t perfect. Perhaps it never would be. But the name of the world would be like a promise to keep trying, to keep advancing toward that ideal.
Pax Coronata. That was the name the djinn had hoped this world might someday become worthy of. And so, that is what we would call it.
Not just a promise, but a rallying cry to fight back against the worst weaknesses and failures of our collective past. A call to keep making ourselves and each other better, stronger.
This isn’t the end, but the beginning.
A/N:
With this concludes the final chapter of “The Beginning After the End”. Most of you already know this, but TBATE was my first series. Every night after work, the world of TBATE became a refuge for me—a place to get lost in and not have to think about anything else. I explored the world alongside the characters that I had created and followed them as they learned and grew.
I never expected it to get this big. I still remember posting a chapter as soon as I finished writing it, not bothering to even proofread it, just to start reading the comments of the few dozen readers who followed and waited for TBATE to update. I didn’t feel like a writer then. What I wrote felt more like a playground for me and my readers to explore together. It was a community that gave me strength.
Now… ten years later, here we are. You and I have grown so much over the years. I still find myself thinking back to those late nights where I replied to comments after publishing a chapter. No matter how large TBATE got, I still find myself going back to those times, because that’s what got me started, and that’s what kept me going. And so I’ll say it again, because I mean it every time. Thank you. If not for all of you, I would have never had the confidence or discipline to be an author. I still have a lot of room to grow, and I hope you’ll continue to be there to grow alongside me.