[Beastborne: Tower of Blight] (Book 6) Chapter 1

The last thing Tristal wanted to see in the morning was the Archmage’s tower. A glittering spire of white stone with gold mortar and a blue-tiled roof shining in the frigid cold light of winter was not her idea of inspiring.

However, for the people of Brightsong, it was an entirely different matter. Tristal had seen that tower before and hated it with every fiber of her being. As one mage to another, she feared Hirash.

He was powerful, egotistical, and, above all, completely able to back up his claims of domination and power.

There was a reason he was the Archmage.

Yeah, and Hal just took him out as if it was nothing, Tristal reminded herself.

While she hadn’t been there for the second duel, she imagined it wasn’t much more different from the first. Even with the element of surprise on Hirash’s side–twice now–the fool had bitten off more than he could chew.

He lost.

It still stunned Tristal how easily the ruling Founder of Brightsong had been able to deal with the Archmage. Rinbast would have had more difficulty, surely? And yet she wasn’t sure.

Her own Founder powers were only able to befuddle and conceal herself from Hirash, but against him one-on-one? She would have had no chance.

Yet Hal did it, not once, but twice.

This strange man was a force to be reckoned with. She knew, with dreadful certainty, that Hal would change the world. For better or worse, Tristal couldn’t say. Not even within the privacy of her own thoughts. For all she knew, Hal might just destroy them all.

Not for the first time, she wondered just who it was she was getting into bed with–metaphorically speaking, of course.

Tristal had seen the way Noth looked at her. The woman might as well have held up a giant neon sign that said, THIS IS MY MAN, DO NOT TOUCH.

Even some of her slimes gave Tristal the stink eye.

Tristal had been forbidden from using her spectral servants in any capacity that wasn’t directly helping the members of Brightsong. She gave them orders and who could tell them what to do–within reason, naturally–and then did her best to stop shivering.

Not that she was cold. Despite the wintry conditions and the blanket of white, Tristal was still a mage. She knew how to keep herself warm or cool, no matter the weather outside.

No, it was because she felt utterly naked without her spectral servants watching her back every step of the way.

That had been one of Hal’s sticking points. He needed to be able to trust her, and to do that, she would have to trust him.

It was… odd.

Totally unlike any Founder she had ever met. The boy–though she reminded herself he was very clearly a full-grown man–acted like she was a bigger threat than the Kinslayers camping out at his door. Kinslayers who could wield magic and abilities from Aldim’s monsters.

He clearly had issues with fellow Founders, who typically controlled their own little territories across the world. Perhaps he feared she could do something to his precious Manatree, the core of Brightsong’s settlement that protected against the ever-encroaching Shadesblight of the Shiverglades.

She didn’t know it could do that. They were designed to battle the Manastorms, not the Shadesblight.

Maybe there’s something there that I’m missing.

In some ways, Hal was incredibly skilled at being a leader. In others, he showed his naivety and openness to invite disaster.

Maybe that was part of his charm.

She definitely would have respected him less if he was similar to Rinbast. Always shutting himself out of the world. Acting as if it didn’t matter. Above all else, he took every precaution and defense he could.

When was the last time Rinbast was out in the world?

When he attacked you, probably, her inner voice said. And even then, he was not alone. He always had his Shadows with him. The two drow who were renowned the world over for their loyalty and complete dedication to Rinbast.

Hal often went out alone, doing things that no Founder should do themselves. The risk was too great. Didn’t he understand that?

If he died, his settlement would be gone. All those who banked on him to defeat Rinbast and end his reign of tyranny would be dead, or worse, along with him.

Why couldn’t he see that?

“Because he understands something you do not,” a soft, deep voice said behind her.

Tristal’s blood went cold. She hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud or that the big oaf had managed to sneak up on her.

Dale, the Druid Kinslayer, was remarkably light on his bulky feet. The man looked like he bench pressed Buicks for fun, yet she was beginning to understand that he was far stealthier than anybody else she had met.

Without turning, unwilling to betray her fear or concern, Tristal said, “And what is that?”

She could practically feel the big man smiling, though she was not about to give him the satisfaction of looking his way. Tristal kept her gaze locked on the unsettling visage of the completely pristine tower.

No matter how much it snowed, the grounds around the tower refused to collect with white. The blue glittering tiles remained clear of any snow or ice.

“Beasts who stay in their holes and only come out when they are assured victory are those that are either very old–and thus have earned their rule–or very weak. Hal… I am beginning to understand is not weak. He seeks to improve. To grow. To expand. He yearns to free himself from the shackles of his civilization. Were he not a Founder, I think he would be the most dangerous man on Aldim.”

Tristal scoffed and, despite herself, turned an incredulous look on the big man. “Being a Founder is what makes him so damn terrifying!”

Dale shook his head. As a Kinslayer, he looked only passingly like Hal. If Hal took steroids by the bucket. Maybe a close cousin, or a stepbrother.

Like all Kinslayers, Dale was a copy of Hal from a different timeline. A different version of Earth. Rinbast found a way to con a god into ripping another version of himself from different worlds within the infinite vastness of the multiverse and bring them to Aldim.

Why was anybody’s guess.

Even the Kinslayers didn’t know. They were kept in the dark as much as anybody else. Perhaps more.

“You do not understand the fire that rages in his heart,” Dale tried to tell her. His eyes touched on the tower, but he avoided looking at it as if it angered him. Instead, he focused on the broken peak. Tristal had been told it was called Frostmourn.

Its destruction seemed recent. The upper part of its summit was blown clean off. It reminded her of photos she saw in school of Mount St. Helens after it erupted.

Though if it had erupted, then Brightsong would surely be covered in ash and soot. Since that didn’t seem to be the case, clearly something else must have happened.

When it became clear that Dale wasn’t going to offer up any more of his insight, Tristal sighed and prompted him, “Enlighten me, please.”

His dark eyes twinkled with mirth, but his expression remained as stoic as ever. “Being a Founder ties him to people. Makes him reliable. He cares for them as an alpha monster might care for its pack or tribe.”

“I thought the whole alpha wolf thing was disproven bullshirt?” Tristal couldn’t help but blurt out.

Dale shrugged his heavy shoulders. “Monsters work differently. If he was just a Beastborne, then he would either be dead or the most powerful person on this Shard. Being a Founder keeps him grounded, makes him take care with every step so that he does not destroy his people.”

“Are you saying that the Founder magic he has is a burden?”

“Not precisely,” Dale said, looking at his own forearm. There was a faint shadow of a different brand there, not a Founder’s Mark, but a brand she had been able to diffuse, breaking him free of Rinbast’s control and observation. “But I know that without Brightsong, he would be out in the wilds. Hunting monsters, getting more spells and greater essences. How many times do you think he’s looked longingly out into the wilds of this place and yearned to test himself?”

Tristal looked at the tall mountains bordering the crater-shaped valley of Brightsong. She couldn’t see the outside of the Shiverglades, but she had spent far too long in them, anyway. They were horrifying.

Anybody who would willingly want to go out into that was insane in her book.

Then again, all Beastbornes seemed a little insane.

Val, the other Kinslayer–and a woman to boot!–was definitely not playing with a full deck.

Maybe the desire and capacity to throw yourself into the den of a vicious monster to see who would come out alive was what it took to become a Beastborne.

No thank you, Tristal thought.

Beastbornes were the most dangerous of the Kinslayers. Their type of monster magic was rumored to seep corruption into their blood and turn them into the infamous killing machines they were so feared to be.

Hal was the exception. He had never been caught by Rinbast and forced to become a Kinslayer. That was one of the reasons why Tristal sought out Hal despite the incredible risk. Otherwise, she would have deemed him too far gone to even try to aid him.

“Then you think Brightsong is holding him back from being strong enough to take on Rinbast,” Tristal said.

“I do.”

“Have you shared this insight with Hal?”

“He knows.”

“How can–oh, right.”

Dale smirked ever-so-slightly. “I do not think his conscience is going to be able to hold him back much longer. Brightsong is safer with our arrival. If he truly trusts us, then he has more freedom to do as he wishes. To grow so that he can truly protect his family.”

“And if he dies out there?”

“Then he will be reborn at the Manatree, yes? It is our duty to make sure the Manatree yet stands so that if the worst happens–as you like to point out–it is merely a temporary setback.”

“You make me sound like a worried ol’ hen.”

Dale didn’t say anything. His eyes were tracking something to the side.

Tristal followed his gaze and was surprised at the pale beauty wrapped up tight in a dark cloak approaching them.

Thick, fluffy flakes of snow settled on her raven black hair and her dark shawl. Beneath that cloak was dark spiky armor that poked out here and there.

From a bag on the woman’s hip, a few slimes squeaked as they tried to peer out to look at the wondrous world of white.

“Noth,” Tristal said, inclining her head in respectful greeting. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“‘We’?” Noth asked, looking around with those unusual golden eyes.

Tristal turned a full circuit, realizing she was now alone. Looking at the snow, there weren’t even footprints left behind!

Trying not to growl in frustration, Tristal shrugged. “I’m used to being with my spectral servants.”

“Oh. I see.”

“What can I do for you?” Tristal asked, knowing that she wouldn’t have come out here just to chat.

Noth was not a bad person by Tristal’s estimation, but she was entirely too smitten with Hal to be a reliable leader. She did her duty, but was clearly distracted by his absence.

However, it was clear that she wanted nothing more than to be by his side. Staying home must hurt, and yet she couldn’t fault Hal for wanting to keep the woman he loved out of harm’s way. Noth was also a very capable leader in her own right, at least when she wasn’t worrying about Hal.

That made her an obvious choice to leave behind when the Founder himself was gone.

Clearly that didn’t sit well with Noth, and she had been slowly pushing Tristal to take up more duties to lighten her own load.

No doubt in order to go with him on his next adventure, Tristal thought to herself. In a world where Leveling Up was possible to attain more power, the more Noth stayed out of combat, the farther she would fall behind. At least when it came to battle Classes.

While Tristal didn’t think Hal would ever leave her in charge of Brightsong, Tristal was an experienced Founder and leader of her own country. She tried her best not to push too hard, but she had a wealth of experience that Hal could definitely use.

“Hal is leaving, and he insists on going alone,” Noth told her. “I–”

Tristal raised a hand to stop her from having to ask for help. Noth was a proud woman. She didn’t like asking for anything. Clearly, she had run out of allies to turn to.

If she’s coming to me, hoping that I can convince Hal away from this course of madness… she must be desperate.

There was nothing that Tristal could do, however, that was no excuse to be anything but kind to her host. Brightsong had welcomed them into their home. After everything that happened to Hal, it would have been understandable if he killed every last one of them instead.

“I’ll talk to him,” Tristal said. “Where is he?”

“At the Gloamgate.”