Cataclysm War | Chapter 77: Aegis of Avalon (First Draft)

Sunday, August 7, 4 S.E.

Leonidas exited the palace’s entrance in silence, flanked by his Dagger of Royal Guards led by Verity, and descended the stairs from the main doors. In the immense inner bailey courtyard below him, arranged in formal rows, were the full complement of the Lances of the Dawnguard and Duskguard, just over two thousand in total, ranked in order of veterancy from Lance-Masters down to Inductees. Per his request and discussions with Ceruviel and Uriel, they were not separated by organization, but solely by rank.

Dawnguard and Duskguard stood together, initially arranged so someone of the opposite order was beside another, and creating an image of coiled tension among the assembled Haelfenn. It was, he reflected, a perfect example of precisely what he’d suspected—and the way Uriel and Ceruviel were standing below him observing the assembled ranks told him that the Regents saw the problem as well.

They didn’t show it outwardly, but the rigid set of Ceruviel’s armored shoulders and the Luxan Spear gripped firmly in Uriel’s right hand told him all he needed to know, thanks to his relative familiarity with both Venerates.

The sheer scale of the palace’s inner bailey, allowing for the assembly in the first place, still mildly baffled him—as did the realization that it was his now. It still felt surreal to think of it that way, but he could no more deny it than he could deny the fact that his heart was beating.

His authority, thanks to Aylar, was now absolute.

When Leonidas descended the stairs to join the Duke and Duchess, both turned to him, bowing formally with a salute that he tried not to smile at wryly. It still felt decidedly odd to receive that acknowledgement from his Mentor and the Dawn-Lord, but he did his part, inclining his head in greeting.

“{Your Majesty,}” the Ceruviel and Uriel said in tandem as they straightened.

“{Dawn-Lord, Dusk-Lord,}” he greeted them in kind, aware of the acoustics of the courtyard. “{Thank you for assembling your forces so quickly.}”

The pair nodded at him once, Ceruviel with a gleam of approval in her eyes, and then turned their gaze back to the marshalled forces.

Dawnhaven’s specialist protectors, each of them Adept rank or higher, with only a few sporadic Elites within their number—all of those Lance-Masters.

When Leonidas stepped forward, the assembled two thousand Haelfenn snapped to attention and slammed their fists to their breastplates.

“{Hail, Archon-King!}” they roared in Haelfennyr, voices filling the courtyard.

 Leonidas observed them in silence as they stood at attention, and then raised his right hand.

“{Be at ease,}” he said as Aylar had reminded him, sending them into an instinctive parade rest with a collective clamor of steel, identical to a Terran army.

Some ostures, it seemed, transcended race and worlds.

“{Soldiers of Dawnhaven,}” Leonidas said as he looked out at them, his voice carrying with his best military ground projection, “{you have served the Thronehold with distinction since the day of Integration. Four years, two months, thirteen days has it been since you arrived on Terra, and in that time, the legend of your prowess has inspired many to join your ranks. You have been the protectors and defenders of Dawnhaven with honor befitting your mantles, and the Queen and I thank you for your loyal service.}”

A collective roar of “{Thank you, Archon-King!}” echoed from the Haelfenn, and Leonidas felt chills run along his skin at the forceful pronouncement.

I doubt anyone could fail to be awed by that.

+Focus your mind, Ach—Your Majesty,+ Ceruviel said into his thoughts. +You called them here for a purpose. Rip off the bandage and be done with it.+

Leonidas smiled faintly at her correction and spoke back mentally as he surveyed the ranks.

Let me do this my way, Ceruviel. This is my arena now.

Silence answered him, but it held the echo of consent, and Leonidas took a breath as he stretched his [Psionic Focus] to its broadest capacity with a tell-tale, slow drain of his Psi. Their mind-glows fully erupted into being as he did, and he focused on them carefully as he spoke.

“{I have summoned you here for a purpose, but before I elucidate upon it, I wonder—can any of you name what it is that most imperils our home at this moment?}”

A ripple of surprise rolled through the assembled Haelfenn minds, but one of the Dawnguard Lance-Masters saluted and raised his hand.

“{Yes?}” Leonidas called, recognizing the Haelfar as Merneus Kaljar.

“{Your Majesty! The greatest threat to Dawnhaven is the manabeasts!}”

Leonidas raised his eyebrows faintly at that and then smiled wryly.

“{A worthy attempt, Lance-Master Kaljar, but I am afraid I disagree. Thank you for your attempt, however,}” he said as the golden-veined, white-armored man saluted and returned to parade rest with a faint aura of uncertainty. “{Anyone else?}”

Another Lance-Master, this time from the Duskguard, saluted and raised her hand. Terana Eionar, he recalled her to be. One of Ceruviel’s Elites.

“{Your Majesty! The greatest threat to Dawnhaven is the other settlements surrounding us!}”

Leonidas smiled again at that answer. Another one who believed the threat was external. In their own way, both answers given were partially correct, but they failed to understand—in a way only Haelfenn could fail to understand—the truth of what he was seeking.

“{Another fine supposition, Lance-Master Eionar, but I fear you, too, are incorrect. Thank you as well, however, for your answer.}”

The silver-haired woman saluted and returned to parade rest, her mind-glow confused, and Leonidas looked across the assembled ranks again.

“{Is there anyone else?}”

He received many more answers from that, ranging from economic collapse, to a lack of trade partners, to—most amusingly—an overindulgence in finery. Every time he thanked them, and every time he informed them they were incorrect, until at last, after almost a dozen answers, a familiar hand shot into the air after a salute.

“{Yes, Dagger-Master Tarnys,}” Leonidas said with undisguised pleasure at seeing the man.

“{Your Majesty!}” Tarnys said, his voice filled with pride at the title. “{The greatest threat to Dawnhaven is disunity!}”

Leonidas paused at the answer, and then, finally, inclined his head.

“{That, Dagger-Master, is the correct answer.}”

Tarnys saluted again and returned to parade rest as eyes glanced over at him in silent consideration, and Leonidas surveyed them while summoning his composure. He had to be steel, now, that way Miranda had taught him.

“{Disunity,}” he began firmly, drawing the attention back, “{is the greatest threat to Dawnhaven. Why? Because it is not outside forces that will break the people of this Thronehold, it is not outside forces that will betray us to our enemies, it is not outside forces that will sabotage our strength—it is the inevitable lack of commonality that will sunder this Kingdom of Avalon, and burn our dreams with it.}”

Leonidas watched them as they heeded his words and saw, with expected disappointment, that they failed to find purchase.

A better example was needed.

“{Allow me to ask you this, mighty defenders: what is your highest priority?}”

“{To secure and protect the Thronehold!}” they answered immediately as one.

“{And what is the meaning of protection? To enforce laws? To secure gates? To uphold the will of the Crown?}”

“{Yes, Your Majesty!}” they answered immediately, though another flicker of confusion roared through multitudinous mind-glows.

“{These are all true,}” Leonidas said with iron-edged certainty, “{but they are not the truth. Your duty, my fellow Avalonians, is before all else the protection of the people.}”

A ripple of understanding passed through their mind-glows, but Leonidas could still see that comprehension was not present. He needed to make it perfectly clear what he wanted, in a way that was beyond accidental misinterpretation. He’d already rehearsed it in his mind, but when he spoke, he found himself rewording the prior wording without realizing it.

It just felt right.

“{You have stood as the final line of defense for Dawnhaven for four long years, yet none of you have ever paused to consider what your burden actually entails. Oh, I am sure you have speculated on how to better enact your duties, or had philosophical debates—Alteran culture predisposes you to it, I know that. It does not, however, enhance your intrinsic understanding.}”

Leonidas watched them react to that with a mix of anger, pride, and confusion, and pressed on.

“{Why are there no Nyrfenn in your ranks? More specifically, why are there no other Fenn?}”

The question stilled the Haelfenn, and he saw uncertainty flicker through their minds again, this time mixed with wariness. He was Terran, and he was asking them a question no Haelfar Highborn usually would. He could see the moment that they processed how dangerous the wrong answer could be.

It did not, however, stop the boldest of them from speaking.

“{Your Majesty!}” a Dawnguard Dagger-Master he was familiar with, a young Haelfar named Lyon, called out after saluting. “{That is because the Nyrfenn and our Fenn cousins lack our martial traditions!}”

Leonidas, despite the worry that lanced through the assembled minds, smiled.

“{An apt answer, Dagger-Master,}” he said without ire as Lyon, subtly relieved, returned to parade rest. “{Because the Nyrfenn and other Fenn lack your traditions, and as such, integrate poorly with the regimented and duty-oriented nature of Haelfenn. More than that, they are intimidated by it—finding the proposition of enlisting to be too daunting. Your culture has dominated Altera for millennia, renowned for its might and its mastery over warfare.}”

His response seemed to relax many of them, and he saw satisfaction across the mind-glows.

He had no intention of permitting that to last.

“{However,}” he said more coldly now, “{this is not Altera.}”

Silence answered him when he spoke.

“{This is no longer the world you came from, and those standard practices no longer hold weight here. Why? Because you are not a monolith. The Haelfenn of Dawnhaven are the minority populace. There are more Nyrfenn, even without including our Terran citizens, than Haelfenn by a one-to-three margin. Yet you believe, solely because of Cultivation and tradition, that you need change nothing. You believe, unless I am suddenly mistaken about more than ten millennia of tradition, that you do not need Nyrfenn aid—because Haelfenn might has always carried the day.}”

More silence greeted him, and Leonidas shook his head slowly.

He needed them to understand before he did what he had to do.

“{Do not mistake my words as a castigation,}” he said coolly, “{I am not denouncing your viewpoint, nor rescinding the reality of your upbringings. My point, my new kin, is that your views of what is proper are not always what is right.}”

He heard Ceruviel chuckle quietly behind him and resisted the urge to smirk. Who said he never listened to her?

“{My goal today is not to supplant you,}” he assured them, “{nor is it to denigrate your service until now. My goal, noble soldiers of Dawnhaven, is to help you evolve. That is the truth of this System that governs us, is it not? Evolution, adaptation, Cultivation—not merely of the body, but of our very identity as a people. One people. One Kingdom.}”

His eyes scanned over them steadily, and he saw mind-glows both apprehensive and warily curious at the same time. He hadn’t reached them, not really, but the seeds were planted. He could see their intrinsic understanding of the System warring with their need for a status quo, but he was not done. They would probably hate him by the end, for a time. That was fine. It was necessary, even.

“{You have a Terran King, my dear Haelfenn. A Sovereign chosen by the System. To many of you, that makes me worthy—but I am not Haelfar. I am not one of you, but I am bound to one of your own—a daughter of your most eminent bloodline, at that, and that is no accident. The Queen has embraced this new world; she has stepped forward, knowing that what was is no longer what must be. To that end, after speaking with the Dawn-Lord and Dusk-Lord, I, too, have come to a decision.}”

The assembled ranks straightened slightly when he finished, and he saw more worry dancing across their mind-glows. He could feel Uriel and Ceruviel step up beside him in tacit support, and he looked out at the armored warriors without acknowledging the pair. It had been an impulse on their part—but one he appreciated.

Still, this had to look like what it was: his decision.

“{As of this moment, the Dawnguard and Duskguard are to be merged,}” he said formally, watching as shock and alarm raced across their mind-glows. “{The orders you have served with loyalty and duty are no more than lauded, worthy memories of a bygone world. I have made the decision, beyond contestation, that this state of affairs can no longer persist. For too long, the Dawnguard has been a hub of politically-oriented nobles, and the Duskguard has been a haven for reticent and rebellious irregulars. That ends today.}”

Another wave of shock and outrage rippled across the mind-glows, and Leonidas watched them levelly as more than a thousand pairs of eyes glared daggers at him.

“{You think I am being unfair,}” he offered calmly, his voice never raising in tone, but instead lowering in consideration. “{You believe that I, a mere Terran before you, cannot possibly comprehend the magnitude of this mistake. It is easy to make that assertion, I grant you, given your limited experience with me.}”

Leonidas cycled his mana as he spoke, and let his Core and Affinity bleed into his eyes, as energy built around his body. Their mind-glows were bare to him when he did, showing all the resentment, anger, and betrayal evident within them.

“{You believe I am being audacious, absent recognition for all that you have offered the Kingdom, and that I am spitting on your service in order to diminish you—because some of you, not all of you, but many of you believe I fear your Haelfenn pride.}”

He smiled faintly when many of them visibly froze at his words, and locked their eyes on the sparks of lightning coruscating around his body.

“{How easily you forget,}” Leonidas said coolly, “{that I am an Archon.}”

A ripple of thunder echoed overhead in the clear blue skies as if to punctuate his point, and dozens of them glanced upward reflexively, before looking back at him with slightly wider eyes. None of them spoke, but their mind-glows told the truth: rage, yes, offense, yes, but also now threads of fear—and, beyond that, begrudging respect.

“{Allow me to be clear. The Dawnguard and Duskguard will be merged, not as a punishment, but to evolve. The days of political separation and disunity are at an end. Avalon is our Kingdom, but I am King, and you have two options now before you.}”

Leonidas raised his right hand, palm open, as lightning crackled around it.

“{You may choose to stay, to see this vision to its end, and to serve with continued distinction. You may choose to become part of something larger, something more powerful, something more perilous and more promising than the old standards you once held as sacred could ever be. You can choose, my new kin, to be forerunners for what I envision to be one of the greatest forces this world will ever see.}”

Their mind-glows sparked with a mix of curiosity, uncertainty, and simmering anger still, and Leonidas raised his left hand, opening his palm.

“{Or, you may choose to resign. Here and now. You will be paid your full remaining income for the year, you will be afforded all veterans’ benefits, and you will be guaranteed peace within Dawnhaven and Avalon at large if you choose to remain here. There will be no consequences for this choice, save one.}”

Leonidas looked at them as he spoke, and he saw dozens of mind-glows warring with the choice, waiting to see what the trap was.

“{If you resign now, you will never again serve in a martial capacity within my Realm. I will respect your departure, but it will be your final departure. I have neither desire nor need for those absent the stomach to see my plans come to fruition. If you choose to resign your post, you will do so with full honors—and do so permanently.}”

Leonidas lowered his hands and stopped his mana cycling, folding them calmly at his spine.

“{You have one minute to decide,}” he said curtly.

Chaos erupted across the mind-glows, and Leonidas saw dozens of eyes turn toward Ceruviel or Uriel or both, as if seeking some answer from the two Venerates to the mystery of what was happening. Leonidas knew what he was doing—he was erasing a cultural staple of Altera, but that was a necessary evil. He would preserve who they were at their core, but he would not permit the same mistakes to continue into his reign.

If he was going to rule them, he’d do it his way, no matter the cost.

All he could trust was that his advisors and wife—wives, potentially—would temper his worst instincts.

As more and more eyes looked to the Venerates, Ceruviel finally spoke, her voice as merciless and direct as ever.

“{If you want to leave, then leave,}” the Dusk-Lord said icily, “{I have no more use for cowards than the King does.}”

That made a wave of them flinch, and when Uriel spoke, all hope for him to rule in their favor died.

“{Your Monarch has made his ruling,}” the golden-eyed titan of a Haelfar said steadily. “{What comes next is dependent on what your conscience can withstand.}”

The resultant sense of mass uncertainty that rolled over the Haelfenn was answered by silence from the Dawn-Lord and Dusk-Lord, and Leonidas remained outwardly implacable, while internally counting down the seconds in his HUD. Part of him was, admittedly, more than a little nervous—but a large part of him felt strangely serene. This had to happen, and it was better to make big changes early in his reign, so that people adjusted to the fact that he would make those changes.

There were few things worse than being seen as a sedentary ruler, as his teachers on both Elatra and System Era Terra had taught him, and he would not fall into that trap. Aylar had already counselled him to expect a certain amount of active outrage from the Court, and he was prepared for that as well. When he’d spoken to Verity and Ilsan about it, to get their views as former Dawnguard, they’d both stated it was a sound idea that was bound to upset a lot of people.

In the end, though, they had agreed to his logic.

That, more than anything, made him feel vindicated.

When the timer in his HUD finally counted to zero from when he started the count, Leonidas lifted his right hand, palm up, and gestured to them.

“{Your time is up, Avalonians,}” he said in a certain voice. “{Now, choose. Remain where you are to be a part of the future, or walk away with no grudges borne.}”

Before anyone could say or do anything, it was an Aspirant, of all people, who raised his hand.

Curious, Leonidas nodded to him.

“{Speak, Aspirant.}”

“{Your Majesty! Luther Veranis. I was wondering, Sire, what your actual plan is for the reconstituted force? I apologize for the impertinence, but I cannot make this choice without knowing the actual plan.}”

Leonidas smiled faintly at the question and inclined his head in acknowledgement. He was wondering if any of them would have the wherewithal to actually ask that.

“{Wishing to be forearmed is not a sin, Aspirant Veranis,}” Leonidas assured the relatively young Haelfar as he fell back into parade rest. “{My plan is simple: the Dawnguard and Duskguard will be forged into a single unit, with a rotation of duty between the Dusk and Dawn Watches. The Dusk-Lord and Dawn-Lord will retain their positions and authority, but the new force will not be comprised solely of their former subordinates.}”

His eyes swept them as they listened, and he saw multiple mind-glows spark with interest. Many multiples, in fact. That was surprising.

“{The entire collective will be regularly rotated, to allow for maximum familiarity, bury old rivalries, and to ensure all benefit from the joint wisdom of both the Duke of Morning and Duchess of Twilight. This also means, most importantly, that non-Haelfenn recruitment—on a meritorious basis only—will be aggressively accelerated, to bolster the new force, not to the exclusion of Haelfenn, merely in addition to them.}”

Silence met his words after he spoke, and then a Dagger-Master from the Dawnguard saluted and raised his hand.

“{Dagger-Master,}” Leonidas acknowledged.

“{Your Majesty! I am Pollux Oryn. I have to ask, Sire, why not simply tell us this in the beginning? I confess, my liege, that the obfuscation confuses me.}”

Leonidas smiled wryly at the question as the man fell back into parade rest.

“{Well, that is simple, Dagger-Master Oryn. If I had told you, then you would not have felt the outrage. If you had not felt the outrage, you would never have known whether you could truly accept the new order of things. Emotion is when we are most gravely tested. My Mentor taught me that,}” he said, gesturing to the Dusk-Lord. “{We are never more honest with ourselves than in the depths of rage or despair. Without the clarity of fury or loss, we cannot accept what must come—nor embrace the serenity that will follow that comprehension.}”

His eyes searched them, and when no one else spoke or moved, Leonidas arched his eyebrow.

“{Is that your answer, then, Haelfenn? All of you will remain, despite knowing I intend to deconstruct the very fabric of what you are from within?}”

Another second of silence followed, and then it was a Duskguard Lance-Master who raised their hand after a salute.

“{Lance-Master Ivern,}” Leonidas acknowledged with a nod to the woman.

“{Your Majesty! To be candid… you’ve already blown apart our expectations for how anything in the Kingdom would manifest. At this point, I’m just resigned to the ride. I think most of us are. You’re the First Archon of Terran Blood. Anyone who expected that eventuality to not come with changes is a bloody fool.}”

Leonidas let himself smile slightly at that, and as the woman fell back into parade rest, looked out across the remainder of the two thousand Haelfenn.

“{I take it, then, from your lack of motion, that staying is your choice?}”

A moment of silence met his words, and then came the answer from over two thousand threats.

“{YES, YOUR MAJESTY!}”

Leonidas shook his head in mild disbelief. He’d expected to lose hundreds—not to keep every single one. Perhaps that would change in the days to come, once group mentality and passive peer pressure had worn off, but he’d wait to see.

“{Very well, then,}” he said to them all and smiled. “{Welcome to your new future.}”

Leonidas looked over them and extended his right hand as if in greeting.

“{Welcome, soldiers, to the Aegis of Avalon.}”