Cataclysm Conquest | Chapter 11: Dinner and Decisions (First Draft)

Sunday, November 27, 4 S.E.

Leonidas waited for Xarina with his arms folded on Sunday night, leaning against the doorframe of his immense balcony. The King’s gaze was focused on the City under the stars, his thoughts drifting toward the inspections he’d undertaken at the site of the new walls. One hundred miles of land around the Thronehold would be eventually encapsulated by the new fortifications, but it would take nearly ten months to complete—reduced from almost five years only by the fact he’d ended up investing 15,000 [Aetherium] into the project from the Kingdom’s reserves and his own. That had reduced his reserves to a mere 6,000, and Avalon’s to 23,000, but the benefits they stood to gain were immeasurable from a security standpoint.

The decision had come after a lengthy discourse with his Minister of Infrastructure, Minister of Treasury, and the Marshal and Vice-Marshal as well. Aylar had given her own input, stating that safety was not something easily measured in cost alone, and Leonidas had eventually agreed. With the new investment, a System-engineered wall framework would construct itself around the designated area, ringing the Thronehold within a 20-mile radius, a 40-mile diameter, and an almost 130-mile circumference.

The sheer scale of the projection was baffling, but it created countless thousands of jobs for his citizens, it gave the Legions practice with infrastructure, and the System’s extremely potent aid would make it far less egregious than if they’d built it all from scratch. The [Aetherium] investment would create the core of the structure, establishing every inch of the wall and its cardinal gates, with four-meter-thick manastone, fifteen meters high. The magnitude of the wall project would have been implausible on Terra prior to the Integration, but System mechanics made a fool out of logistics.

His attention snapped back into the present when a knock sounded, and he turned, calling “Enter” calmly and shifting to face the entrance. The doors parted smoothly as two Aureates pushed them open, and Xarina entered a moment later, walking stiffly into the room. The Svartfar Scion wore a beautiful black dress that reached her calves, one that clashed brilliantly with her ash-grey skin and seemed to highlight the crimson light of her eyes.

A pair of elegant silver-trimmed heels completed the look, and she strode toward him with her chin raised, much of her long white hair braided behind her in Starhold fashion, while loose strands rested on her surprisingly deep neckline and across her shoulders. Leonidas raised his eyebrows faintly at the choice of attire, but smiled at her politely, gesturing to the balcony and the table that had been placed upon it for their dinner.

“Your Majesty,” Xarina greeted him in her usual dulcet, husky murmur, affecting a mechanical curtsy that Leonidas found oddly amusing despite the situation.

“Scion Lyrin,” he responded in kind, inclining his crownless head—he hated wearing it for intimate settings—and pulling out the chair she would sit in. Xarina hesitated for only a moment before striding over, revealing a surprisingly enticing thigh-slit in her dress as she accepted the chair with a muttered thanks, allowing him to tuck her into the table as he moved around to take his own seat.

“Aetherwine?” he asked politely, gesturing to the large decanter in the middle of the white tablecloth.

“Yes, thank you,” Xarina responded in the same tense voice, lifting her glass as Leonidas poured her some of the colorful liquid, and then set down the decanter.

“I’m surprised by your attire,” the King said without preamble, knowing how much Xarina hated evasive smalltalk. He’d learned a lot about her in the months since their dinners had started. “I expected the usual jeans and blouse.”

Xarina grimaced at his words and looked away, a faint blush on her features as she took in the view from the expansive balcony.

“It was the Queen’s idea,” the Scion said finally, as if admitting to something shameful. “Her, and Kairi. They set upon me in the palace and dragged me to the Princess’ rooms.”

Leonidas sighed at the revelation and smiled wryly, pouring himself a glass of Aetherwine and settling back into his chair.

“Sorry about that,” he said bracingly, while searching her averted gaze. Svartfenn seemed more natural under moonlight and starlight—something about it brought out the ethereal nature of their species in a way that sunlight failed to do. Xarina, being a Scion, was even more powerful and beautiful than most, and Leonidas couldn’t deny that he at least enjoyed looking at her.

When she wasn’t glaring, she was stunningly beautiful.

“It was not your design,” the woman said after a momentary pause and then turned back to him, sipping her Aetherwine and setting it on the table. “I went along with it instead of having the argument, and the dress is comfortable, but I still feel like this entire exhibition is foolish.”

Leonidas nodded in understanding and set his own drink down, savoring the taste as he peered at her.

“I’m sorry you have to be put in this position. I know the idea of marrying a Terran galls you, let alone the idea of having to produce children for a political agreement. I can’t say I’m much of a fan myself, as you know.”

Xarina nodded stiffly at his words and folded her arms, obscuring her chest beneath the smooth, ashen limbs as she sighed. “I do not hold you accountable for this situation, Leonidas,” she said, using the direct address he’d insisted she default to when they were seated. She still stumbled over it, but she persisted despite her people's ingrained adherence to hierarchy. “I was in that meeting. I know you were as swept up by those tides as I was.”

Leonidas nodded and smiled faintly, arching an eyebrow.

“It feels like our dinners always start the same way,” he said lightly, glancing down at the table and then back to Xarina. “We always cover the same things.”

“We do,” Xarina agreed, meeting his eyes stubbornly, “because there is little else to cover. Politics, social reform, governmental developments, and military logistics only carry us so far, Leonidas. However, tonight may yet be different.”

The King’s eyebrows lifted at her words, and he felt curiosity stir within him.

“How so?” he questioned with genuine interest.

“I have come to a decision,” Xarina pronounced haughtily, lifting her chin, and then after a moment, lowering it again with a sigh. “A decision I have been wrestling with for months, but which I can no longer deflect. It has been with me since I found out about what you are, and I cannot any longer evade its grip.”

“Okay…” Leonidas said with wary uncertainty. “What’s up?”

Xarina let out an aggrieved sigh and unfolded her arms, settling her elbows on the table, bridging her fingers, and leaning forward in a way that gave him a view he determinedly tried to ignore.

“I have a Lineage Quest, Leonidas,” Xarina said directly, her smoky voice steadied by steely focus. “One that requires the aid of a Cataclysm. It will allow me to reverse the shame of Talrinar, and realign my homeworld—but I need your aid to achieve it.”

Well, shit. That’s not what I expected.

“Sure, okay,” Leonidas said awkwardly. “But you realize I’m just an Adept, right?”

“For now, yes,” Xarina conceded with a grumble. “But given your growth, I have no doubt you will reach Ascendant in the next few years. Given that fact, I believe it is prudent to broach this matter with you now. You must unlock control over Force prior to your Ascendant tribulation.”

Leonidas blinked at her words and frowned, his mind trying to connect dots that remained unseen.

“I have no idea how to even do that, Xarina,” he said to her candidly. “I barely understand my Core.”

The Specter seemed to expect that, and her lambent eyes narrowed in focus.

“Are you prepared to reach Contender?” she asked simply.

“Yeah, I just need the Experience,” Leonidas answered honestly. “That, and a suitable location. Uriel and Ceruviel both agreed Dawnhaven would be too risky.”

“They are correct,” Xarina affirmed, seemingly satisfied by his answer. “A location is the least of our concerns, however. You must be wary of your own power. Contender unlocks your Spirit Strengthening. As a Cataclysm, this will be a very profound Tier for you, Archon-King. You must be mentally prepared for the impact of it.”

Leonidas stared at her for several moments and then frowned, trying to link the missing pieces together in his mind and finding a frustrating lack of connection.

“What do you—how do you even know so much?” he finally asked. “I know Talrinar has records about the Cataclysm, but—”

“She was my Ancestor,” Xarina answered abruptly, cutting him off as her lips twisted into a grimace. “It is a secret of my Matriline, known to only myself and, I think, Matriarch Yvraine. The Blood of Lyrin are the inheritors of the power of the [Talrinarian Cataclysm], which is why my talents are so singular. My [Starshadow Core] is very close to unique, even among the Svartfenn. It is how I know what you will encounter, Leonidas. I had access to my Ancestor’s personal writings.”

Leonidas blinked twice at her words and then reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, feeling the ghost of a headache coming on as several things slotted into place for him.

“And you’re only telling me now?” he asked in rhetorical exasperation.

“Now is when it has become relevant,” Xarina answered, either ignorant or choosing to ignore the rhetorical statement. “Now is when I have reached my decision, and so the admission becomes pertinent.”

“Okay, sure,” Leonidas muttered and watched her skeptically, less than enthused by her penchant for keeping secrets. “So, for the sake of curiosity, what can I expect at Contender?”

“The Dirge will grow more potent,” Xarina said immediately, watching him in her unblinking manner and her eyes still narrowed, snowy lashes faintly reddened by the glow of her eyes. “Your potency will increase with all aspects of Skill usage, and your Affinity will amplify incomparably. Cataclysms do not undergo Spirit Strengthening like other Cultivators—it will result in an immense amplification of your Core’s nature. Your power source will not truly awaken until Ascendant, but the influence of the Dirge will heighten dramatically.”

Leonidas grimaced at the news and lowered his hands, sighing as he brushed his right hand through his hair.

“Good thing my Willpower is so potent, I guess,” he said idly, turning to look out at the City. “You know, the Press asked me about instability just yesterday. I told them they were idiots, but now you’re making me feel like I was being hasty.”

Xarina chuckled bitterly after he finished, and he turned back to find her staring at him still.

“You were, and you were not. Your immense Willpower, to quote your own words, will greatly aid you—but it is a stopgap, not a true mitigation. The core of the issue is not the Dirge itself, but your own emotions, Leonidas,” she explained with scholarly surety. “The Dirge does not control your mind; it amplifies your emotions, both actively and subversively. It exacerbates what already exists in order to drive you toward madness; it does not create something from nothing.”

Leonidas raised his eyebrows again at her words, and then thought back to the Rite of Ascension and the Arena fights during his first days in Dawnhaven. The Cataclysm Mana had definitely exacerbated his fury, his bloodlust, and his desire to destroy—that much was immutable. The Dirge had also stimulated his grief and his hate for the System during the Rite of Ascension. He could still remember the ocean of nihilism he’d drowned in.

“So how do I stop that?” he asked her simply.

“The Dirge enhances your destructive emotions and impulses,” the Scion said steadily, her voice strangely soothing in its dulcet delivery. “But it can only amplify; it cannot override. If you love more than you hate, if your desire to protect and preserve is far greater than your trauma, and your desire to end things, then you will be able to muzzle its destructive song.”

“So the power of good vibes?” he asked with a faint smirk, and received a blank look in response.

“If you wish to call it that,” Xarina said finally, “yes. The more stable you are emotionally, the more impetus you have to persevere and to preserve, the more comparatively inured you will be against the influence of the Dirge. You have already taken steps toward this—but I can see the stress and concern in your eyes, Leonidas. You need more.”

“I’m already going to be a father, and I’m thoroughly in love with two women I don’t deserve,” Leonidas said wearily. “How much more is there?”

Xarina pursed her full lips at his words and then turned, gesturing out to the City.

“An ocean more purpose awaits you, Leonidas. Countless lives, countless dreams, countless hopes—my people among them. I dislike your sex for its stupidity and inherent brutalism, Leonidas, but I have had to grudgingly admit to you as an exception among them. You care for this nation, but do you love it? Can you love it? That is the question you must answer. You could still bring an apocalypse upon Avalon without ever harming the people you truly love.”

Leonidas ruminated on her words as she followed her gaze to Dawnhaven and peered down at it. He didn’t answer her impulsively, because the question was fair. He knew he was proud of the Kingdom, he knew he was satisfied with his efforts, and he knew he was invested in its growth and success—but love? That was a very poignant and relevant question. Did he love his new nation? Did he truly?

For the first time in months, he was forced to confront the reality he didn’t.

He cared about Avalon immensely because of what it represented to him —his family, both born and accepted—and the people who had aided his journey, but loving the nation was very different from feeling responsible for it, proud of it, or merely attached to it. If the Kingdom died tomorrow, his greatest regret would be the loss of his [Divine Path] and his failure to prevent it, not heartache, not the way Xarina spoke of it.

“I can see you are weighing my words. That is good,” Xarina said, drawing his attention back to her as she resumed peering at him. “You show wisdom in that self-awareness, and that gives me hope. If you had insisted you did love this place, I would have written you off. It is always hardest to face the truth on your own terms, Leonidas. Doing so now, as you have, reassures me that I have made the right choice in trusting you.”

The King smiled wryly at her words and inclined his head, accepting them.

“Fair enough,” he said quietly. “Ceruviel did tell me everything was a test in this life.”

“The Venerate is wise,” Xarina agreed readily. “But she is also impeded by her lack of knowledge in this area. That aside, it is good that you know how to listen to those beyond us. I have great respect for your Venerates. These Alterans would have handily survived the Evernight, and that is no small compliment.”

Leonidas nodded in agreement with her words and glanced down at his glass of Aetherwine before looking back at her.

“So I reach Contender, aim to avoid going crazy, and then what? I just glare at the air until I manifest a new ability?”

Xarina rolled her eyes at his words and muttered something in Svartfennyr before focusing on him again.

“No, Leonidas, you comprehend. The Cataclysm is a singular existence on each world, connected to both its planet’s core nature and the Universe at large. You are not learning something; you are comprehending,” she explained, emphasizing the words intently. “It is the difference between knowing how to read versus knowing how to interpret what you read into discernible language. The knowledge already exists within you, by your very nature; what you must do is understand it.”

Leonidas frowned at her words and watched her quietly. What she said did make sense, in a way he hadn’t expected, but he had no idea where to start. He remembered how he’d felt wielding Tectonic Power in the Rite of Ascension, as well as his [Cataclysm Shift] and [Cataclysm Swordforce], but remembering and understanding were as far apart as night and day. There was a symmetry, but he couldn’t bridge it—he’d been trying.

“I can see that you know what I am saying, but lack understanding of where to begin,” Xarina said confidently, settling back into her chair at last, straight-backed and surprisingly regal. “That is fine. You will have a better ability to Ideate once you reach Contender. I am also aware that I am asking a substantial thing of you: to aid me with Talrinar and absolve my Matriline’s shame. Worldwalking is no small feat—but my Core should allow us to do so, in conjunction with your own strength, when we are both Venerates.”

Leonidas blinked at her words and frowned.

Can I really trust her? Hell, do I have a choice?

Sometimes, trust had to be repaid with trust, he realized.

“I have a Lineage Quest of my own,” he said after a moment, eyeing Xarina quietly. “To retrieve the lost inheritance of my Ancestor, Arthur Pendragon. It’s complicated, but one of the rewards is a Grimoire left by a Worldwalker, and I think that would serve our purposes.”

He lifted a hand when her eyes widened, stopping her from speaking.

“Sorry, but I had to make sure you understand: I can’t just gallivant off and fulfill that quest easily or any time soon. There are complications involved, like even getting close enough to find the right place, and the politics of being a foreign Monarch entering someone else’s land—especially with my knowledge of how historically paranoid the Britannians are. When I go, though, I’ll take you with me, if you want. I was planning on tackling the Quest after reaching Ascendant.”

Xarina’s eye twitched faintly at his explanation, but she didn’t appear angry, and chewed her lower lip in a distractingly cute way while she weighed his words.

“This is a great show of trust,” she said finally, almost hesitant to admit it. “Thank you, Leonidas.”

The King blinked at her words and inclined his head.

“You’re welcome, Xarina. Fair is fair.”

The Scion nodded, took a breath, and grimaced.

“Yes. Fair is fair. One is not equal to the other—you shared a Lineage Quest that will require you to make a mere infiltration, I am asking you to fix an entire planet, to undertake the work of the Gods, and ameliorate my shame. Thus, I will grant you a boon in return for readily accepting.”

Leonidas raised his eyebrows and frowned.

“You really don’t need—”

“When you unlock Force manipulation, I will marry you and bear you a child.”

Leonidas choked on his own spit at her words and coughed, slamming his chest and staring at her in complete, utter bafflement while the Scion blushed to the tips of her ears, her red eyes meeting his unblinkingly.

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?!”

Xarina’s lips twitched, almost in amusement, and she waved a hand in a way as if it were a small thing—though Leonidas spotted the subtle tremble in her fingers.

“I have evaded this duty for years since we came to Terra, namely in pursuit of my quest. You have given me a path to its completion, through a manner that bestows great risk upon you, and asked for nothing in return. That, Leonidas, is noble—noble, foolish, and strangely endearing. I am a Scion, and the last of my Matriline on this world. To have a seed-giver such as you would not be so terrible—”

He coughed again at her choice of wording, which she ignored.

“—and it would secure the future of my species within Avalon. Without our marriage, I know what the end result will be, and so I have decided it will not be so terrible to be your bride. However.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she lifted her right hand, one elegant finger raised in warning.

“I am not some meek Maidenguard fresh from the Cadres. I will bear your offspring, Leonidas Pendragon, but I will not be your docile bed warmer. I will remain a Specter, I will return to my duties after the child is born, and I will retain my autonomy. These are not negotiable. I will take no other male lovers, out of deference to your desires—not that I want to, men are fools—but I will not be at your beck and call like the Queen or Sorceress.”

Leonidas stared at her and then managed to let out a choked laugh.

“If you think Aylar and Synthra are docile, you’re not as informed as you think,” he muttered.

Xarina narrowed her eyes at him.

“Be that as it may, those are my conditions. I warn you, this is a concession, Leonidas. I am not… displeased… with your physical form or sense of self, and your nature as a Cataclysm will create powerful combinations with my own bloodline, but I do not love you—I greatly doubt I ever will. This is an agreement, for the good of my people and the security of Avalon. I will protect your throne, I will defend all of your children as a proper Matriar should, and I will firmly support you—but I will never be your pet.”

Xarina shifted her posture and folded her arms over her chest again, eyeing him intently as Leonidas tried to work through what in the hell she was saying.

“Do you understand my terms?”

The King stared at her for a long moment, and then thought of Avalon, of the Svartfenn, of the future of his nation, and what Aylar would say in that situation.

Love is not instant, Leonidas, his wife would have advised. What may appear impossible today may be an opportunity tomorrow. Take it one day at a time.

Finally, Leonidas swallowed back his instinctive rejection and offered her a nod.

“I accept your terms, Xarina Lyrin.”

The Svartfar blinked at him once and then blushed, grimacing when she did.

“Good,” she muttered. “Now let us call the Butler. I am starving.”

Wordlessly, Leonidas nodded and rose to do just that, shaking his head.

God above, he thought as he walked to the door, what the hell did I get myself into?