Published at 21st of February 2026 8:37 pm

Chapter 172 The Long Road Ahead

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Mirian paid for new accommodations for her adoptive family, one with guards. She contracted another company to keep an eye out on anyone attempting to surveil them. The nice thing about Florin was there were a lot of services available for anyone with the coin to pay.

As the war and coup developed, rich families from across Baracuel found their way to the city, perhaps hoping neutral Florin would protect both them and their assets. Likely, they were right. The prices of luxury services and rented apartments went up across the city.

She had promised herself to take this cycle easy, but she also didnt expect to return to the Florin Principality anytime soon. By the 28th, shed constructed another three leyline detectors. Sure enough, without Troytin to interfere, Cearsia ordered the destruction of the Divine Monument as soon as shed captured the city. From this far south, Mirian could only get poor readings.

North of Alkazaria, there was no movement. Apophagorga was either dead or had simply decided to stay burrowed near the leyline.

When the 4th of Duala came, she joined her family on the roof of the apartment after dinner. I like to watch. Theres a sinister beauty to it. The auroras the eruptions. Such magnificent colors.

In the ocean, the dark sea shimmered with a bloom of light.

I didnt realize the arcane eruptions were also taking place under the ocean, though I suppose it makes sense, she added.

Dhelia looked stricken. Why dont the Elder Gods stop it?

I dont know, Mirian said. Maybe theyre busy. Maybe they cant. Something happened to the Ominian. They seem wounded. She thought of the multitude of wounds in the Gods stone-like flesh, the dripping ichor. She thought of Them sitting on the throne of the Mausoleum, silent and still.

I still cant believe it, Jeron said. We just sent you off to your final year at the Academy. I can still remember you running around the village as a child, pretending to be a mage.

It was very cute, Dhelia added, then looked over at Zayd. The ground shook again. Her mother looked down at the crowds below. They must be so scared, not knowing whats happening.

Scary even if you do know whats happening, her father said.

Not really, Dhelia replied.

Zayd let out a woah! as another aurora danced across the sky.

Mirian looked to the Divir moon. It should have started falling by now, she thought. Killing Apophagorga hadnt changed anything, and she knew for sure the Divine Monument had been destroyed. A moment, she said, and returned to the room below where one of her leyline detectors was running. She activated the illusionary display. Without data from the other two detectors to triangulate, the information was incomplete, but it was enough for a basic analysis. The pattern of collapse beneath the surface looks typical. Breakdowns along the Palendurio axis, as expected when the Monument blows, then the effects propagate down to Persama where the moon falls. But its not falling yet. Is it leylines in Persama?

She felt nervous hope surge through her. Did Ibrahim change tactics and start working on the leylines? Did he find a way to stabilize them? Or are there other time travelers, and they found a way to prevent their own Monument from collapsing?

Mirian reemerged on the roof. Somethings changed, she said. We might not see the moon fall tonight after all.

Her father breathed a sigh of relief. Oh thank the Gods. Ive been trying to put on a brave face, but I really dont want to die. How much longer do we have?

I dont know, she said.

Well, I like that answer better.

***

The moon fell on Duala the 10th, six days behind schedule. Mirian had pieced together as much as she could with the leyline detectors, recording some of the most critical information in her soulbound spellbook. By the morning of the 10th, the amount of arcane eruptions occurring at regular intervals had been staggering.

Mirian woke to the dripping ceiling again. Quickly, she fixed up the hole with her new spells before Lily was awake. Then, with a heavy sigh, she got ready to start her investigations.

First, she needed to investigate the presence of other time travelers. With Troytin gone, the Republic Intelligence Division and the Deeps wouldnt be looking for her. She could finally start moving around in Akana Praediar and figure out just what in the five hells was happening over there. Perhaps she could even stop the war before it even started. If she could recruit allies with persistent memories, that would change everything. If they were her enemies, she needed to know that even more urgently.

Second, there was the Divine Monument. She still wanted to investigate the possibility that the structure wasnt unique. Her delves into the Palendurio underground hadnt turned up anything yet, but it also hadnt been a focus. Jeis equations implied a second set of coordinates was necessary to make the Elder devices do anything. But, with her new knowledge of runes and tri-bonded sequences, there were new breakthroughs to make in magic, even if all she had was the Torrviol Divine Monument to study.

Third, she needed leyline data. A lot of it. She needed to put detectors in the furthest flung places she could and figure out exactly what was happening so that she could figure out how to stop it. Or even if it could be stopped. With the soulbound Holy Pages, she could finally record data in detail. That would eventually allow her to do something like what Viridian did with his Akanan climate device, except modeling the leylines instead of the weather. Magical research also might assist her. There were still devices at the end of the Frostlands Gate Labyrinth with unknown functions, and there was that simulation room that seemed to be connected to the arcane eruptions somehow. There was also her new titan catalyst to study. While it had already made casting arcane and celestial spells easier and lent more power to her spells, she hadnt begun to understand the full implications of such a substance.

Fourth, there was that damn memory curse on her. It was burrowed deep in her soul. She still wasnt sure how to pick it apart, nor how to dispel the curse safely. She needed to talk to the psychopathic necromancers who had done it to her as a child in the first place. This Doctor Westerun seemed like a good person to start with, but investigating the Deeps and the conspiracy might get her information as a side effect. Reluctantly, she had to admit it was the least important of her objectives. The curse bothered her, but it clearly wasnt impeding her. The fate of the world came first.

Though shed just made a priority list, Mirian immediately violated it by resolving to spend the cycle in Torrviol. Shed just run wild across all of Baracuel for months. The time loop was still going. It showed no signs of stopping. A month of relaxing research sounded too good to pass up.

She started by recruiting Jei and Torres, then got to work on the Monument as soon as she could. Perhaps relaxing wasnt the right term. The Elder device was monstrously complex, and despite her encyclopedic knowledge of glyphs and runes, there were plenty of sequences used that she couldnt even guess the function of. She quickly became convinced that there were layers upon layers of glyphs beneath the surface, like an Allard bank seal, only far more complex. The more productive solution was a variation of what the researchers had been trying, which was introducing different energy inputs into parts of the system and seeing what resulted. In short, a great deal of drudgery, not unlike what shed need to do to study the leylines.

On the 10th of Solem, though, her plans of relaxation came to a grinding halt.

She picked up the Torrviol Broadsheet to check the news, expecting the usual article about Dawns Peace bing defeated. Instead, the front page read:

RAMBALDA REBELS! ATROXCIDI RETURNS! UNDEAD SIEGE ALKAZARIA!

A sinister rebel group in Persama known as Dawns Peace used great treachery to slaughter the Baracueli peacekeepers in Rambalda. By the same treachery, these Persaman outlaws attacked the forts along the Southern Range, then attacked Alkazaria itself! Only by the heroic effort of the garrison was the surprise attack repelled. Once behind the walls of the capital, the soldiers thought they would be safe until reinforcements arrived. But the Torrviol Broadsheet has learned that the forces at work here are far more sinister than a mere rebellion!

Just days ago, legions of undead soldiers emerged from the desert and joined the siege. These terrifying skeletal monstrosities, animated by foul necromancy, were the feared shock troops of the insurrectionaries during the Unification War.

There can only be one explanation, Commander Batima Ayral, commander of the Alkazaria garrison, stated to concerned citizens in an address. The necromancer Atroxcidi has returned. There are no necromancers in Baracuel, and our brave soldiers have fought hard to suppress the despicable practice in Persama. Only a necromancer of his power could command so many undead. But fear not! The Praetorians are with us, and our allies will soon come to our aid.

Martial law has been declared in the second capital and the surrounding cities. Military arcanists from across Baracuel are being organized to deploy to the south immediately. King Aurelius Palamas, speaking on behalf of Parliament, urged citizens to remain calm, and to do anything they can to support the courageous soldiers who will be fighting to protect them. He also assured the crowds that they had already invoked their mutual defense treaty with Akana Praediar. The vile necromancer will regret showing his face again, his Majesty said to the crowds.

What could have caused the horrible necromancer to emerge after so many decades of silence? Speculation abounds! Some think he was only biding his time to strike. Others suspect that nefarious Persamans worked in secret to recruit him to their cause, perhaps resurrecting the old blood cults so famous during the reign of the Triarchy.

The article went on, with the baseless speculation only growing, and added a bit of history about who he was and his opposition to Baracueli unification. Mirian set it down, blood running cold. Now she knew what Ibrahim had been doing. Atroxcidi.

She stared at the paper. What in the five hells do I do about that?

Shed tested herself on the tripoint detector in the underground and had reached 107 myr. That made her an Archmage, still a bit below Luspire, but stronger than most. But Atroxcidi had defeated an archmage who could reach 150 myr. Whatever soul magic she knew was no doubt paltry compared to someone who had actually been trained in the forbidden magic.

Mirian read through the article again, then burned it with a flash of raw magic. If Atroxcidi had an army attacking Alkazaria that fast, the only explanation was that hed been recruited even earlier. It took time to move soldiers, even ones that didnt sleep. It also meant the necromancer was relatively close to where Ibrahim started. Even if she could acquire an airship from Cairnmouth on day one, it was unclear if she could find a way to stop the alliance. She still didnt know what he looked like, where he started, or how much he knew.

Ibrahim hadnt made any direct moves against her, but with the powerful arch-necromancer at his beck and call, she had to act as if he was hostile. The risk he presented was too great to assume otherwise. Perhaps the Praetorians could have dealt with him in a surprise attack, but the Persaman rebel had no doubt told his new ally all about the battlemagi whod thwarted his assault on Alkazaria so many times.

I need to stick to the shadows. No more gathering armies or revealing herself as Prophet to the masses.

On the 11th, Mirian flew south of Torrviol and destroyed the train tracks in three places, downing several trees so that the repair job would be even more of a hassle. She wasnt worried about his army making it to Torrviol, but if Alkazaria fell, his agents might be able to disperse across Baracuel. Troytin had been able to get the drop on her because hed gathered information clandestinely first. She wouldnt make the same mistake again.

***

That night, she finally had the dream of the Mausoleum again. She had missed its towering ceilings and the strange shifting geometry. Shed missed the high windows that looked into endless stars. She started to walk, eager to walk through the corridors again, then stopped.

Something was different.

She knew the Mausoleum too well. She used it to help her memory. Something was out of place.

Mirian looked around, first to the ceiling, then the walls, then back down the long hall towards the front where shed found several bindings scribed. Then her eyes settled on the Ominian, and her heart skipped a beat.

There, in the Ominians right shoulder, was a colossal needle.

Her mind raced. Shed seen the needles in Their body fly away, leaving behind the wounds. Shed assumed it was symbolic, that it represented some injury that had been inflicted on Them. Perhaps during the Gods War. After all, shed apparently had visions of that too. But now, she was reconsidering everything.

Her thoughts went back to one of the dreams shed had, years ago. Shed been here, in this room, only shed seen dozens of figures, obscured by shadowy robes. Realization struck her like a blow.

She recognized that needle burrowed in the Ominians shoulder. It was the same one shed removed from Troytin.

Heart pounding, she asked, Is that what did it? She couldnt bring herself to believe this was some grand competition. Surely, they were meant to work together. I cant do this alone, she told the statue. But who can I trust? And how do I truly stop this? Surely, you didnt mean for this world to die.

Or maybe it wasnt a statue. The whorls of thick flesh, colored like granite and studded with burnt-out eyesit was much like the flesh of Apophagorga.

She took a step towards the Ominian.

The Ominians eyes opened.

They bore down on her with the weight of worlds. Mirian collapsed to her knees, a thousand sensations suddenly overwhelming her. She saw the burning tree again, the anchors raining down into an endless sea, heard the cry of a child, saw an endless wall of fire, saw a thousand pieces of Enteria, saw the Labyrinth, heard Apophagorgas roar, smelled death, smelled roses, saw scoured battlefields, heard screams, heard laughter, saw blood, saw a smiling face. A man wandering a desert in despair. A leviathans call, mournful and distant in an uncaring ocean. A creature, crawling through the Labyrinth as it shifted once again. It was too much to process; she placed her hands over her ears, but the sounds continued. She closed her eyes, but the images flashed through them anyways. She tried to scream, but there was never any sound in the Mausoleum.

She found herself collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily, sobs wracking her body. Certain images stood out. The tree. Overlapping roads. A map on a table, shredded. A thousand branches; too much. No path. No map.

A realization struck her, even more terrifying than before. The Ominian doesnt know. There was no correct path, just possibilities. Many paths. But one future. She sat back on her heels, staring up at the Elder God. Ominian, you have to guide me. Its too much. Theres too much at stake. And Im not strong enough.

More images flashed through her mind. A baby glaciavore, wrestling with its mother. A flower, not yet budded. A student, bloodied and exhausted, sword held loosely in her hands, unwilling to look her master in the eye. A young sapling, branches greedily seeking light in a hole in the canopy, a great tree fallennext to it. A word came to her mind.

YET.

***

Mirian woke, jaw clenched, her resolve hardening.

A thousand challenges lay before her. She still didnt know if she faced potential allies or implacable opponents. Enteria was still dead; she and the world had no future, not yet. But the Ominian had chosen her for a reason. She had placed her faith in Them, and in turn, They had placed Their faith in her. It was a monumental responsibility. Her task was still impossible. Regardless, she couldnt relent.

There was work to be done.

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