Xilanada - Pursuit Of Regretted Truths/Part 8

Sen pushed open the doors of the Hall of Audience and was met at once by an agitated servant who had obviously been waiting on him for some time. The man whispered Father's summons in his ear and Sen gave him a distant nod. The afternoon classes were almost over by now but there were still plenty of students about as Sen passed by the corridors on his way to the Founder's Wing.

He had missed a class he was supposed to teach today, just basic Threshold history for one of the mortal teachers here. Wasn't it funny how different everything seemed now? Sen suddenly realized he'd only been gone for most of the day. It felt like years.

Would he be covering First Age Lore again?

Sen's tightened his fists into hard balls and made an effort not to wear his feelings on his sleeve. A classroom door opened and students ran past him, laughing and giggling as they went. Their good mood broke across him like the ocean against a crag; their laughter echoed behind him now but he couldn't find any joy in it.

Rainblown walked out of the classroom last and gave him a distinct smirk. For some reason, Sen felt like punching his teeth out but he was far too controlled to take his rage out on someone who had nothing to do with the morning. Nonetheless, he felt a strange quiver as the God-Blooded Professor walked by to head toward his offices.

Sen pushed the Founder's Wing doors opened and moved briskly through the corridors to reach Father's favorite study.

The doors opened at his approach. Sen entered, not sparing a look for the heavy rugs that lined the floors, nor the beautiful tapestries done in the Aralet style of a century ago. The bookshelves were a little more eye-catching, crafted of elaborately worked dark oak and containing many texts outright forbidden on the Blessed Isle. Sen had never cared for Father's dabbling in the Infernal Arts but Father had also been a Sorcerer far longer than Sen had been alive. He knew how to take care of himself.

Wrapped in a fancifully designed azure robe, Tepet Ajalat Malias reclined in a high-backed upholstered chair. As was often the case these days, a glass of wine hung loosely from one set of fingers but Father's gaze was always clear. His eyes moved about, seeming to note Sen's appearance and he gave a single grunt, a dissatisfied sound.

"So what's the matter with you, boy? And where've you been?" Malias asked irritably, huddling in his robe and leaning toward the ever present fire in the fireplace.

"Xilanada's an Anathema," Sen said bluntly as he threw himself into his customary chair across from Father.

"That a fact," Malias said, seeming to muse about it as he spoke. But Sen's senses had been rubbed raw by his pain. Rather than numbing his perceptions, they seemed keener than ever and Sen realized that Father already knew. Maybe had always known.

"Why did you let her stay, Father?" Sen asked. Remarkable as his insight might be, he didn't have the energy for candor. "You knew she was an Unclean and you let her teach here? For months? Why?"

"Chiefly one reason," Malias answered dryly. "Considerably more of the younger students taught by her either Exalted or Awakened to the Essence of the world as mortals can. Seya brought it to my attention a month ago."

"And that was reason to condone a damned Anathema?" Sen demanded, too angry to be respectful to the one man he respected most.

"So she broke your heart," Malias said with a shrug. "It happens, son. The question is...what's it worth to you? You could have a hundred women, have had that many and more. Is she truly so special?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Sen said stiffly, turning his attention to the steadily burning flame in the hearth.

"Ah, son." Malias leaned back in his chair, sounding weary. "I wish we had more time. There's much I would tell you. For now, I'll grope in the dark. Sen, you can have her if you want her."

"I'm not consorting with an Anathema," Sen said, scowling at his father. "Whatever you think of my recreation, I haven't sunk that low. You don't need to worry that my virtue has completely disintegrated."

"I don't mean that," Malias said, shaking his head. "I mean you can have her any way you wish. Do you love her? Make her yours. Does her power concern you? Bind it, chain it as you would her if it's what you want."

"What are you talking about?" Sen asked, suddenly confused.

"I'm talking about getting what you want. I'm talking about joining with those who can give it to you. Sen...look back on your life. What have you been given?"

"A respectable occupation," Sen shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. A living. A life of duty."

"Ah, yes. Duty." Malias again looked thoughtful. "To whom is your loyalty?"

"You, of course." Sen said it without hesitating, wondering what game his father was playing at.

"To me before all?"

"You know it is," Sen growled, having had his fill of enigmatic conversation already today.

"But you also serve House Tepet. And you serve the Realm and its interests. By doing so, it gives you honor and respect, a purposeful enlightened life as the Immaculates would say."

"You don't believe in that crap anymore than I do," Sen said, annoyed now. "I've nothing against the House, of course, but spare me the religious talk. I'm not in the mood."

"What if I offered you another allegiance?" Malias asked. Sen's head turned at the sudden intensity in his father's voice. "What if I gave you a chance to serve something greater than our House's petty interests, the Realm's never-ending bickering? What if I offered you a cause that would give you work of lasting importance, a cause that would also grant you your heart's own desires?"

"...I don't know what you're about, Father," Sen said at last. What was Malias up to? He'd never seen his father talk like this, look like this. He was speaking with all the fervor of the Immaculate Philosophy, only it wasn't the Philosophy he was espousing. What was he trying to convince him of?

"Tepet Ajalat Sen!" Malias shouted suddenly and Sen heard the stones beneath the oak-paneled walls fracture at the sheer power of it. His own name, spoken like that, made him jump in his chair. "Tonight, all comes to a head. If you'd gotten home earlier, we could have talked about this but now our time is short. I have never favored dancing around the truth so I will be plain."

"Tonight, Hell itself will break loose upon Creation. Those who will stand against it will perish. Those who would join or die shall serve as slaves. But those who beckoned it, brought it to bear, they shall have rewards greater than you can dream of!"

"Father...what are you saying!" Sen said, unable to hide his horror. Had Father gone insane? This made no sense!

"Fool boy," Malias rumbled. "I always intended to prepare you for this but your heart was never right, your mind too clouded with the myths of the Immaculate Philosophy, just as Seya's is. But I thought you clearer than she. I hoped Xilanada would die last night, that it would push you over the edge. I hoped I could open your mind but instead I shall have to break it open, I fear."

"Where is this coming from? What do you mean? Have you...damned your soul?" Sen rose slowly from his chair, drawing Crimson Laughter. Mentally, he couldn't keep pace with the conversation anymore. A night of drinking and drugs, a morning of absolute heartbreak, and an afternoon of familial betrayal; it was just too much. But when his thoughts shut down, his reflexes still got him on his feet, reacting to the danger Sen once would have said could never come from his Father.

He knew the truth in his heart. Tepet Ajalat Malias...was now an Infernal.

"I freed it," Malias said, confirming Sen's worst fear. "From the empty platitudes of harmony with the Dragons and ephemeral promises of a next life. I am not going to die, you see. I will live...forever!" Sen staggered beneath the sound of his Father's voice, feeling in it an impossible strength no Dragon-Blooded could have. "And so will you. Tepet Ajalat Sen! Serve me!"

This time, the might of Malias' voice was meant for him. But where it struck into his soul, trying to sink irresistible talons to bind and chain his will forever...the ring warmed on his hand and kept it out. Sen blinked and realized he was still his own man.

His own man, trapped in a room with the Infernal Akuma that had been his Father.

"Hesiesh, see your Exalt and bless him. Redeem your fallen servant, my father, and show mercy on a man who feared as a mortal does. And should your servant perish, may your wisdom guide me into my next life."

Sen spoken the prayer calmly, confidently and lifted his blade. Malias stood slowly from his chair and, in his hands, paired short swords of pure fire coalesced, slightly curved in the Fire Dragon Style. Then, he gestured in sharp, direct bursts and assumed the Fire Dragon Form as the flame grew in his eyes. Sen nodded to his father, once, respecting the adversary he was setting himself against.

Without delay, Sen dived across the room, rolled, and came up slashing out of the Falling Star Maneuver. Malias vaulted straight up and over on Effortlessly Rising Flame, so that Sen's jade knife clove only the air. Coming down, Malias twisted to face his son on landing. His knees bent as he touched down and then he lunged forward.

Sen spun, twisted his knife about and turned the flaming sword of Essence aside. He leaned back and lashed out with a booted foot, catching his father in the chest and jarring him backwards. Malias fell back several steps, clenched his swords and slammed his foot down on the ground, balanced again.

"You can't defeat me, Sen," Malias said grimly. "You hadn't the strength, even before the Ebon Shadow Dragon blessed me. You must realize this battle is futile!"

"But it still must be fought!" Sen yelled.

Into the bag at his side, his hand flashed, and when it came out it sent shining steel toward Malias. The Infernal Dragon-Blooded advanced, pace by pace, spinning as he deflected Sen's throwing stars, stroke by stroke with alternating swords. Knocking the last aside, Malias riposted and Sen's shirt caught fire from the near hit as he twisted impossibly to the side.

Tepet Sen was riding the currents of Essence with a grace born of long-practice but soon the room would burn with his Anima. Malias didn't even look like he'd expended a drop. Was his father truly so much stronger? Could he even die, if the Yozi's had granted them their additional might?

Sen shot a quick jab at Malias' face, feinting to bring up his knife. Father almost took his hand off and still managed to spin a flaming blade back down to bat Crimson Laughter aside. Sen did the only thing he could think to do; he bodily slammed into Malias and tried to pull him down.

Malias would have none of it and an irresistible strength was in him. Even as Sen caught at Father's arms, he could feel at once that he was no match for him like this. Malias had every bit of his speed, considerably more muscle power apparently, and reservoirs of Essence Sen couldn't match for another two centuries.

Sen kicked off his father's stone-like torso, Effortlessly Rising Flame making him fly backwards, flipping as he landed gracefully across the room at the door.

"It's too late, Sen. Even as we speak..." Malias looked out the window and sighed at the setting sun, at the long shadows that had already filled the room except for what the fireplace dispelled. "Now...it has begun. And there's nothing that can stop it."

"But there is," Sen said. "Because I won't let you do this, Father. Even if I have to give my life to stop it."

Sen kicked backward, knocking the doors open and backflipped into a somersault until he was on his feet facing the other way, running as his feet reached the ground. Behind him, Malias would no doubt be giving chase but Sen had other things on his mind. He had to get to Seya.

Even as he ran, something...happened. A great, terrible darkness fell upon him. It almost seemed to have weight and, for a moment, he thought it was some kind of magical trap to ensnare him.

He concentrated, Gracing his weapon and flames burst from Crimson Laughter, spilling out a small circle of light from the red jade knife. Even the bright fire only pushed the shadows aside a little, not penetrating nearly as far as it should.

Sen didn't slow, still expecting pursuit, but he neared a set of windows as he sprinted and glanced out to see if diving through the glass would free him. Shockingly, the School itself was enshrouded in this blackness. The sun had set but the twilight should still have lit the sky with deep purples and yellows. In fact, there was a thick gloom outside so powerful that he couldn't even see any of the other wings of the School.

Something terrible was happening. Sen bared his teeth as he ran through the shadows, toward the Hall of Audience and the student wings. It couldn't be a coincidence that his father had set up this school, if he'd indeed traded his soul for immortality. The fact that he'd started this project at the first sign of age must mean that something involving this place had always been part of Malias' plan.

And there was only his son to stop it.

Sen's thoughts touched on Xilanada and that brilliant light that had surrounded her the last time he'd seen her. In his heart, he was both grateful that she was safely out of danger and strangely yearning for her to bring that light and show him the way through whatever Sorcery had caught the School.

Neither of those feelings were what he should feel for an Anathema. But Sen had known all along that his love for her wouldn't have a happy ending. Their story couldn't have any other kind.