Cataclysm War | Chapter 76: Alchemical Conclusions (First Draft)

Sunday, August 7, 4 S.E.

Xarina stared at the results of her alchemical analysis of the newly-crowned Archon-King’s genetics with faint disbelief.

“[This cannot be correct…]” she muttered as she surveyed the conclusions the System screen was showing her. By all accounts, she’d expected something, but not what she was reading—not in the levels that her assessment had revealed.

“[S+ Growth? Saint potential?]” she whispered in flagrant shock. “[And his Mana capacity is baffling. By Nocturne, how can this be a newly Integrated Cultivator?]”

When she’d taken the genetic sample through the easy theft of Leonidas’ glass, she’d done so by seeding the idea of her wanting Aetherwine for herself. Poisoning the man had crossed her mind, but it would have been too public—especially with the two Venerates around. It had been her first time being in their presence, and Xarina very nearly shivered at the memory.

Each of them exuded power passively in such quantities that it had made her spine run cold. If the Starhold encountered them, she worried about what might happen. Only an overwhelming force would carry the assault to victory, and even that seemed like a questionable statement given the power on display from the Royal Guard.

She’d presumed the lightlanders to be weak, because of what she’d seen externally—what she’d seen within the Palace, however, had alarmed her greatly. She needed to report it to Yarilla as soon as possible. If the assault went ahead without adequate information about exactly what they were dealing with, it could very well fail catastrophically.

A pyrrhic victory, if that were even possible, would still set the Starhold back decades in terms of raw combat power. Thankfully, she was due to report to her sister in the coming week. It would prevent disasters before they ever occurred, so long as the report reached Yvrain and the Matriarchs in time. The compacted native forces could break themselves on Dawnhaven—the Starhold wouldn’t, and that was what mattered.

“[This Archon-King is no ordinary Cultivator,]” she murmured to herself, perusing the screen again. “[Even the traces of his Affinity are inconclusive. Psi, yes, but why is it also showing elemental energy? And in such purity?]”

Muttering to herself had been a habit during her Alchemical training. It helped her focus and understand data, and the soundproofing wards she’d erected within her quarters in the Cartellis estate only strengthened her sense of security. She’d already found the eavesdropping aetherotech, rudimentary as it was, and muffled it with her Affinity. No need for the idiot lightlander to know what she was up to.

“[Elemental power, though, why elemental power? He’s an Archon. The lightlanders made it clear what their Affinity is. Think, Xarina! Why elemental? Elemental, elemental, ele—]”

Xarina froze and looked back at her alchemical equipment, striding over after a moment and searching for the results she’d written on her notes quickly. Elemental power, when combined with high mana density and an S+ growth rating? There had to be a common thread. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t name it. Something nagged at her, something she felt like she should know.

The power the Archon-King had shown during his bout with the Throne Challenger remained hooked within Xarina’s mind. She’d watched it personally, observing him as he dismantled the Queen’s younger brother, despite their clear tier difference, with frightening ease after what had seemed like a sure defeat. The way he’d moved, with those spinal grafted wings, and the sheer speed and power he’d wielded—it had been a cataclysmic show of force.

She froze for a moment at her own thoughts.

Cataclysmic?

Xarina’s eyes widened, and she searched her notes more frantically.

When she found what she was looking for, she picked up the sheet, written in Night Sister cipher that only she could easily read. Her eyes skimmed the page quickly and then found what she was looking for: the results of Leonidas’ mana nature, not just his Affinity or density.

The words written there screamed through her mind.

Inherently unstable, prone to harming the wielder without Tempering.

Her mind flashed back when she read it to a similar report penned centuries before she’d been born.

A report on Talrinar’s Cataclysm, before they had gone mad and shattered her homeworld’s day-night cycle by tidally locking the world to another planetary body, using mana that had been aligned to the forces of nature despite Affinity.

Cataclysm.

Cataclysm.

“[Oh Divines of Talrinar,]” she whispered in stunned horror, staring at the page as her hand shook. “[This can’t be correct, I must have made a—]”

A System chime interrupted her, and Xarina looked toward the new screen when it appeared.

SYSTEM MESSAGE

Congratulations, Xarina! You have advanced your [Lineage Quest]!

LEGACY OF CATACLYSM

Through your Alchemical deductions, you have discovered the identity of the [Terran Cataclysm], thanks to your family’s research into the [Talrinarian Cataclysm] of your homeworld! With this accomplishment, you have advanced your [Lineage Quest] for the first time in generations!

[Completed Objective]: Identify a Cataclysm

[Reward 1]: 100,000 Experience

[Reward 2]: Platinum Chest

[Remaining Objective(s)]:

Discover the Origin of Cataclysms

Prevent a Cataclysm Apocalypse

[Remaining Optional Objective(s)]:

Convince a Cataclysm to restore Talrinar

Xarina dropped the papers onto her desk in silence as she read the System screen and walked slowly toward her chair, sinking into it as the strength left her limbs. The Archon-King was a Cataclysm? It didn’t make sense. How could a Cataclysm be so unassuming? When she’d met him, she’d seen a male, one that was exceptional for his sex, certainly, but still just a male. The speech he’d given in the Throne Room had been interesting, and his wedding had almost been touching, were it not for the way the so-called Queen simpered while looking at him—but a Cataclysm?

Xarina’s hands rose, and she buried her face in them, massaging her temples as she did.

“[If he’s a Cataclysm, does that mean they don’t know?]” she asked herself, mumbling into her hands. “[Has he tricked all of them? Or, worse, are they aware and consenting to his presence? Deception is one thing, but at least that Venerate must know what he is, given her power and Affinity—which means that at least the Queen and the other Venerate must be aware. What about his family?]”

Her mind raced as she considered the possibilities, and Xarina lowered her hands as she looked toward the alchemical setup on her table.

“[I could kill him before he has a chance to become a threat, just like the Quest says, but if I do… the nightlands…]”

Her heart thundered in her breast as she considered her options, and her hands shook faintly as adrenaline and shock warred within her body.

“[The Starhold!]” she realized abruptly, staring at the table in horrified understanding.

If the Starhold attacked Dawnhaven, they wouldn’t just find Venerates and the Elites of the Royal Guard; they’d find a Cataclysm. Suddenly, the man’s defeat of the Elite Prince-Royal lightlander made so much more terrible sense. The power she’d seen him express in that Arena must have been some unique talent of a Cataclysm. That speed, that power, that overwhelming force. He was only an Initiate—that was confirmed, but if he managed to amplify his power that way at first tier, what could he do if he achieved Adept rank?

The urgency in her only ratcheted up when she envisioned the result of that power unleashed on an unsuspecting Starhold. Cataclysm Mana was terrifying. There were far too many notes in her family’s spire for her not to know that, and the religious fear the Svartfenn held for Cataclysms would only prove even more disastrous. Many of them would refuse to fight him if he were revealed for his true nature—many of them would pledge their fealty to the man out of sheer Faith-based terror.

Talrinar saw the Cataclysm as divine retribution made manifest. They did not view the aberrations the same way her Matriline did. They did not understand because, at their core, they were the result of that power. Xarina was. That was her greatest secret, her greatest shame, the source behind her [Starshadow Core] and the spatial control her family had manifested generation after generation.

Talrinar’s Cataclysm had not simply been a foe they obsessed over; the woman had been her ancestor.

Xarina’s hands flexed as she squeezed them together, her heart booming against her ribs. If the Queen was aware, the Venerates were aware, and the King’s family were aware, then she couldn’t rely on warning any of them. That meant they were actively protecting him and actively helping him grow. They were tangling with power they failed to understand. The more a Cataclysm evolved, the more dangerous they became—especially at Ascendant.

The [Cataclysm Core] only truly awakened at Tier Five, after all.

“[But why was he so normal?]” Xarina muttered to herself in question. “[He acted like any random person off the street, other than his charisma. The man could have been as easily mixed up with any other Terran, if not for his stature. What is the—]”

Her voice cut out abruptly when she remembered he was an Archon.

Psionic classes, by their very nature, needed extremely potent Willpower.

“[Is that it?]” she murmured to herself, looking over her notes again. “[Is that really the difference? Willpower? It would explain how he keeps his Core from going berserk…]”

Her eyes darted over her notes again, and then on a whim, Xarina catalyzed her Affinity—scooping up the pages and feeding them to a vortex singularity that appeared over her left palm as she destroyed them beyond any hope of recovery, and then deactivated her Affinity.

This is far more dangerous than just a single assault, she realized silently. If this man grows before he’s properly contained, he’ll be unstoppable. I have to do something before he reaches Ascendant—but how? He’s the most protected person in this entire accursed City.

Besides, even if she could get him alone, she may not have been able to handle him, not truly. If he used the same ability he’d wielded against the Prince-Royal lightlander that had duelled him, he’d kill Xarina before she could scream. The danger the Archon-King posed went far, far beyond rational comprehension… and Count Cartellis expected her to kill him?

The thought made her laugh, low and humorless, as she stared at her shaking hands.

You have to find a way to contain him, Xarina. You can’t let the nightlands happen again.

Her eyes drifted to the window in her quarters, and she pursed her lips.

The System had implied that a Cataclysm could fix Talrinar, but how? There was no known way to transit between System Worlds. It would take a supreme act of power to open a portal, let alone conventionally cross the intervening distance. There were only a small handful of System Worlds that had branched out beyond their homeworld, and of those, none had managed to break through the System’s enforced isolation between the Nexus’ Worlds.

“[But if the System says a Cataclysm could fix it, doesn’t that imply that madness is not certain?]”

Her own question took her faintly by surprise, and Xarina furrowed her snowy eyebrows. The temptation to believe that was dangerously alluring, but could she afford to? The simple truth was that she only knew what she did because of her lineage. Her Matriline had dedicated themselves to correcting the sins of their Ancestor, or at the very least, preventing it from happening again. While the rest of Talrinar had taken to near-obsessive worship, her bloodline had thrown itself into a generational pursuit of redemption.

If they couldn’t reverse what their founding Matriar had done, they could at least prevent it from happening to other worlds—but only Xarina had been given the chance to truly pursue that goal. So, how was she to go about it? Seducing the Cataclysm was a pointless endeavor; he’d reacted to her bosom with interest, but it was tempered by some strange sense of propriety.

Her eyes drifted to where she’d packed away his jacket, and she narrowed them in thought.

This Cataclysm is not what I expected. He’s young, but he carries himself with a veteran’s comportment. There are secrets there. I need to be cautious.

Her mind steadied as she considered what to do, and Xarina curled her shaking hands into fists once more.

First, I need to warn Yarilla and develop a plan of action.

Her eyes flicked toward where she’d tossed the ballgown the Count had given her, and her mind danced with possibilities.

He’s still a man, she resolved to herself quietly, and all men are easy to predict. I can use that. I will use that.

Xarina would do whatever she had to in order to see the Cataclysm reined in.

The very fate of her new homeworld, and potentially her old one, rested on it.

Precision is only powerful when wielded by one who understands it.

Her mother’s words echoed back to her, and she smiled grimly.

Finally, she understood the meaning.