Chapter Fourteen

Fate Don’t Know You

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fate Don’t Know You

“I like our odds.”

DABRIEL

The area known as the Eastern Access Roads, leading into the city of Hamon, was very heavily guarded - with two Royal Legions, and the Helix Legions from Veil'driel, on constant alert. In the three months since the Republic of Veil’driel marched to the aid of Sindell, there had been a coalescence of the two forces that had been remarkably seamless. This was much to the surprise of Generals Thaddeus Creed and Graydon Lockhardt, who had envisioned an entire slew of logistical problems, to say nothing of three decades' worth of festering tension. Since the end of The Looking Glass War, there had been time enough time for memories of the conflict to poison multiple generations.

The dreamers described this new union as meant to be. The more cynical suggested the powerful compulsion for survival, even at the expense of principle, and its ability to compel the adoption of any alliance.

The truth likely lay somewhere in the middle.

Today, however, none of that mattered.

Today would be a welcome, arguably critical, distraction from reality. And that distraction took the form of a wide, green lane cutting a swath through massive war machines and soldiers. It was a formation moved into with the efficiency of clockwork, used to accommodate the potential emergency landings of airships. But on this occasion, it had been assumed for a different purpose.

​“Don’t do that spinny-twirly thing you do when the shot comes low,” Darvin Nash was saying, holding a leather glove so that Jace could push his hand inside. “It never works.”

​“I do a spinny-twirly thing?”

​“Yes,” Ferris Lang chimed in. “You do. And it never works.”

During the night, with visibility restricted, a hemisphere forcefield protected the capital city against unknown ground forces and the relentless threat of flying demons commonly referred to as Winged Creatures. Had it been up at the moment, this shield would have cut the created lane in half, but with these so-called creatures unable to endure in sunlight, and no ground assault deemed a practicable threat, it was deactivated during the day.

The massive crowd and noise reminded Jace of the coliseum he had seen in his vision, but now that vision seemed very far away. Sunshine had a way of doing that, of burning the doubts of midnight. He was no stranger to blocking things out, and this was no different. In one way or another, he had been doing it his entire life. It had given him an almost supernatural ability to take refuge in the present, one of the first things Thean had perceived about him in the early days of his training.

A trait the constable quietly thought of as the Outrider's greatest strength and weakness.

"—but that's just the way it goes, am I right?" Darvin asked.

Jace remade eye contact with his friend, drawn by the sound of his voice.

"I'm almost certain you're not," he said, going back to scanning the crowd. "But to be fair, I wasn't listening."

All four Veil’driel cavalry legions, along with the infantry, flanked the lane from both sides, and it stretched as far as the eye could see. In addition to this, civilians watched from high-rises looking down on him. Anyone in the Republic of Veil’driel military knew what was coming. Anyone from Sindell had only heard of it. But as Dabriel’s legend grew amongst them, the prospect of his riding “The Gauntlet” was one of their favorite two things about him. The other was his forbidden romance with Isabelle Talabray, most popular with starstruck mothers who told the tales to their wide-eyed daughters.

Still, in the end, it was just a distraction.

​“Oh, and also, don’t jump my horse into any more oceans.”

Jace brought his attention back to the present, and in doing so, realized Malcom had come up beside them.

“It was a bay, wasn’t it?” he asked the Whistler.
​
Malcolm nodded, twirling a toothpick in his mouth.

​“Yeah,” he confirmed. ​“You got a second?”

Jace looked to his fellow Outriders but they were already starting away, anticipating his request.

“No spinny-twirly things,” Darvin’s voice reminded.

Jace smiled at this as he focused more fully on Malcolm.

“What’s up?”

“Have you heard—”

​“Ladies and gentlemen, the Veil’driel Twin Stars!” the announcer said, and rambunctious applause followed. There were so many people in attendance that even idle chit-chat was loud. This cheering reaction came down around them like a wave, as if sound had physical feel.

They had wandered into the open lane, just slightly, but enough to where the crowd was provided an unobstructed view of them both.

Jace’s reputation was approaching near-legendary status.

Malcolm was merely famous and intensely popular.

“They call us the Twin Stars?” the bowman asked.

Jace shrugged, squinting up to one of the verandas where the announcer was posted. He was standing behind what appeared to be a makeshift podium with three glowing stones embedded into it. They would pulse when the man spoke and amplified his voice.

“Apparently.”

“Because we’ve both been awarded the Veil’driel Sta—”

“I’m guessing,” Jace said. “What did you want to talk about?” He motioned around without looking. “I’m sort of in the middle of something.”

“Have you heard anything about our next mission?”

“No? Should I have?”

“We’re hearing it could be Ursinus. That we’re going after Artemus. That true?”

“I don't know,” Jace said with a shrug. “I mean, maybe.”

Malcolm frowned.

“Zarponda's been liberated for like 15 minutes, Mal, relax. If I hear anything I'll let you know."

"You promise?"

"What are we, 12?" Jace rolled his eyes. "Yes, Malcolm, I promise."

"You going to this thing tonight?”

"It's be pretty awkward if I wasn't."

"Yeah," Malcolm said. "I guess you're—"

In what felt like a strange bit of timing, the announcer started speaking again, shifting the subject in an instant:

​“Ladies and gentlemen of our two great nations! The Republic of Veil’driel and the Kingdom of Sindell unite today in the spirit of tremendous celebration, as we assemble to commemorate the monumental accomplishment of retaking the City of Zarponda!” There was a scattering of applause at this, but not an eruption, as the crowd correctly anticipated there being more to come.

“I did most of the work but whatever,” Malcolm said.

Jace smiled as the announcer went on:

“And, as a symbol of this unprecedented alliance, we present Outrider of Veil’driel … Jace Dabriel!” ​Jace offered a wave at the sound of his name, and the crowd rose to a frenzied pitch. “Bowmen, take your positions!”

​Malcolm turned as if taking his cue.

Jace put a hand on his chest.

​“Don’t even think about it,” he said.

Malcolm laughed.

Jace walked to Darvin's horse.

He leapt into Bela’s saddle, spurring a fresh wave of excitement through the crowd.

​The Outrider stood straight in the stirrups and spread his arms. He had done this many times, ratcheting up the tension, but never on this scale.

The corresponding noise made him sit.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, and by the look on his face, it seemed likely he didn’t realize he said it.

Alarick’s hand on his leg snapped him out of it, which was almost certainly the gesture’s intention, and when Jace looked down into the older man's familiar and supportive face, he felt that calm of the present returning.

“Come a long way since Fairlawn, ain’t we lad?”

Jace took a deep, steadying breath.

“I guess, yeah.”

When the Outrider’s attention wavered once more, drifting back to his surroundings, the so-called guy who could get it for ya whistled to refocus it on himself. Strangely, Jace’s focus had come first to the red sash his friend wore rather than his eyes.

"Hey. Sar tiro anav?

"Jace Dabriel."

“Aye.” He waited for Jace to elevate his gaze. “It’s the same act, this. Audience aside. You know the players. Call the game.”

“Yes, sir, Breveteer, sir,” he said with a mocking, half-salute.

Alarick smiled, apparently satisfied Jace was back in the proper headspace. He was also taking his own advice, flipping through the strips of paper he had written on, and making a show of orchestrating the precise wagering system only he understood. He did this for show, simply going through the motions for anyone expecting the scene. He knew the bowmen on the line were under the strictest orders to miss. Thean understood the role distraction could play on morale, but he wasn’t willing, nor stupid enough, to risk their greatest asset.

Jace knew it, too, which explained his willingness to do this without Highfly. An Outrider’s horse was an extension of their very being, a symbiotic ballet of instinct and intuition developed over years of experience. So this was just a show, but the adrenaline surge was real. The massive crowd saw to that.

An unlit cigarette twitched between Jace's fingers.

“You didn’t really get that horn at the Fairlawn Bazaar, did you?”

Alarick looked up quickly.

Then went back to jotting numbers.

“No.”

“We’ll have to talk about that sometime.”

Alarick smiled.

“Aye.”

There was a clink and Jace leaned in the saddle to accept a flame offered up by anonymous hands. Then he sat back. The cigarette bounced on his lips like a spyglass unmanned in a storm.

“Hat,” he said simply, and one rose up beside him as the light for his cigarette had. Fitting it onto his head, he looked up from the saddle: Eyes, smoke, and hat, a perfect match.

Jace rose again to full height and threw back the sides of his cloak, revealing his single-shot crossbows. Had this been more real, he would not have been wearing it on a summer morning like this one. But it was expected. And so today it served more as a costume than military attire.

Still, Jace played the part to perfection.

He made one last pan of the crowd—someone handed him a slip of paper: The final tallies of the bet which simply said: T'aves baxtalo in familiar handwriting.

Jace slipped it into his pocket. Satisfied that all eyes were on him, he reached down to clasp forearms with Alarick—

—who pulled him close.

“Make it past five, fearless leader, and we’ll both be rich.”

“I like our odds,” Dabriel said.

“I’m proud of you, lad.” Their grip released. “We all are.”

Jace slowly peeled the cigarette from his lips, then narrowed his eyes.

For a heartbeat, in that perfect, frozen moment, this war was just a dream. Artemus had never betrayed Jaden, betrayed his purpose, and let Arkhelan march all over Ciridian with his forces. The Helix Legions had not been tricked out of place to leave Veil’driel exposed. Sindell was not isolated, under a dark cloud of perpetual, unknown threat. There was no mysterious, deadly plague born out of Mazhira now threatening to infect the world.

Cedwyn wasn’t gone.

Isabelle and Relic were alive.

Thousands of people, from all over the capital city, were amassed on either side him and ascending into what felt like the firmament itself.

Jace tugged the brim of his hat down so it crossed his brow. A felt horizon in a world of chances – and a perfect fit. When he spread his arms at his sides, it incited the crowd to a crescendo of cheers he could feel in his bones.

Alarick raised one finger in the air, twirled it toward the sky, and the enormous throng froze. The subtle switch from performer to Outrider was but a glimmer, the work of a single breath.

Jace leaned forward.

“Well, alright then, Dale,” he said. “What say we get this show on the road?"

He clacked his heels, and the announcer's voice began its amplified narration:

“And he’s off, ladies and gentlemen! Jace—”

“—Dabriel! Veil’driel Star recipient and Outrider of Veil’driel,” the Master of Ceremonies proclaimed as Jace walked through the doors leading into the ballroom. He was startled by the introduction and the applause that followed, giving an uncomfortable wave in acknowledgment and smiling at the throng below. The landing he had stepped out on overlooked the Grand Hall and made him feel as vulnerable as stepping out on a stage.

The stairwell was identical to Lornda Manor, although he decided sliding down the railing on this one would not be the way to go.

Jace was also trying to recall the last time he wore his dress uniform. It wasn’t when he was awarded the Veil’driel Star, as that had happened in his absence.

It felt a little tight around the collar, and he grabbed at it as he descended.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, he was spotted and greeted by Darvin Nash and Ferris Lang. They guided him to what would presumably be a larger group standing beneath an enormous ice sculpture airship.

“Nice medals, show off,” Darvin said.

Jace glanced down to his chest and seemed embarrassed.

In the Outrider Order, competition was a foundational element during training, and though this was ultimately superseded by a deeply ingrained culture of absolute teamwork, that healthy competitiveness remained.

In regard to medals, achievements, and accolades, Jace Dabriel had no equal. Even at such a young age, only Artemus Ward was in the same conversation going back to the Order’s inception. As the three men weaved in and out of the crowd, everyone he passed made way and exchanged glances as the celebrity passed amongst them.

Ferris’ wife, Danielle, handed him a glass of champagne as the trio came over. He thanked her and greeted her with a half-hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“You look like a ship that just found a harbor,” she said.

Jace looked around as if he expected to be spotted by someone any minute. Someone who knew he wasn't supposed to be there.

"That's where they're safest," he said.

"But not what they were made for," Darvin added without missing a beat.

Danielle narrowed her eyes.

"Damn. You really wear that uniform, Dabriel."

"I know."

"I know you know."

Jace smiled.

​“You look beautiful,” he said, seeming slightly less distracted. “I don’t know what you’re doing with this guy, but ...” He motioned to Lang, and as the group laughed, he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve. Looking down, little Casey Lang was wearing the promised green dress, having been waiting patiently for Jace to notice it and her.

When he finally did so, he opened his mouth and gasped.

“Wooooooah, pretty girl,” he said. “Look at you." He took a step back, admiring. "Veeeery beautiful.”

She beamed at him, looking shy for a second before putting her arms up. Jace handed his champagne glass to Darvin Nash, put his hands under her arms and picked her up. When she pursed her lips, he pecked them.

​“Good job today,” Darvin said, handing Jace's drink back.

​“Mm,” Jace mused as he took a sip. “Didn’t do that spinny-twirly thing."

Darvin nodded and saluted him with his glass.

​Casey caught sight of a small table filled with pastries and now squirmed in Jace's arms.

“Mommy, can I—”

​“Yes,” she said. “Go.”

​Jace put the little girl down and watched her run over.

​“It’s ridiculous how big she is,” he said, turning back.

​“Yeah, well, she just loves you,” Danielle said. “But then, who doesn’t these days, right? For a minute I thought we were back at the Telminster Riders Ball.”

​Ferris stepped a little closer to his wife and slipped his arm around his her waist, pulling her a little closer.

​“I could have been the most popular Oitrider if I wanted,” he said.”Too much work, though.”

​She laughed.

“His Royal Majesty, King William Bryce!”

It seemed like every occupant in the enormous ballroom kneeled.

Those from Veil'driel respectfully bowed their heads.
​

Jaden stood with her hand on a heavy, oak door. On the other side of it, her unconscious daughter was in a bed. She bowed her head and sighed.

​“Standing there like that won't make the courage come any faster," said the voice of Gabriel Foy. “No matter how powerful a Tear you might be.”

​She smiled and rose to full height.

She walked to him. They embraced.

​“Has she regained consciousness, do you know?”

​Jaden shook her head.

"No."

"Then let them be. There’s something that feels right about Avery being with her. I’m sure you feel it, too.”

Jaden nodded.

"I do." She turned back toward the door. “I just can’t believe Artemus would … That Hazel …”

​Gabriel placed a hand on her shoulder.

​“None of that now, it's too hard," he said. "We'll get it all settled and sorted. In the meantime ...” ​He angled himself to offer his other arm. “ Might I have the honor of your company at a bafflingly ill-timed shindig?"

​She laughed, sniffed, and wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

​“Have I mentioned how wonderful it is to see you again?”

​“No,” Gabriel said as they started down the hall. “But that goes without saying.”

Casey ran back holding a cupcake with both hands, almost tripping in the process. A second later she was standing beside her mother with icing all over her face.

​“Look!” she yelped, and everyone followed the line of her point. Through the immense glass dome at the height of the ceiling, a shooting star streaked the sky. “That means a soul is going to heaven, right mommy?”

​Danielle laughed, a little embarrassed.

​“That’s right, honey.”

​Jace smiled and took a sip of champagne ...

“Isabelle Talabray!” the Master of Ceremonies proclaimed from up above. “Outrider of Veil’driel!”

... and spit it out.

Everyone was staring at him. Not just those in their little group, but everyone. He hadn't built the courage to look at the landing. As long as he didn't, he could live in what felt like a fantasy. As long as he never looked up, as long as he imagined her standing there, this was real.

Jace felt the light touch of Danielle's hand on the small of his back, a sympathetic gesture to restore his presence of mind. He looked at her and she smiled, guiding his eyes to Isabelle with her own.

She was walking down the stairs, gliding down them it seemed like. She was in her dress uniform ...

She was ...

No one should know where their dreams come from.

Reaching the bottom, she spotted Jace almost immediately. Even if she hadn't, she could have followed the eyes of every guest in that ballroom drawing a bridge to him.

She stopped in front of him, having to hold herself back from taking another step. She had this moment all planned out. She was going to hand him his jadeite necklace and say something clever.

Something like, "I think this belongs to you."

But standing there like that, so close she could reach out and touch him, everything flew from her mind like leaves in an angry wind.

“You look tan,” she said.

Jace dropped his glass.

Danielle looked amused, Darvin and Ferris exchanged nervous glances, and the surrounding silence amongst that many people, in that setting, was extraordinary.

So close and yet so faraway, had defined them both for years, and that's just the way it was. They couldn't give in to their personal feelings as much as she wanted to. No matter the circumstances, this was no time to—

Isabelle saw something in his eyes that made her say:

“Don’t—”

Whatever she was going to say next trailed off to a broken whisper, and all she could do was gasp when Jace charged her.

She closed her eyes and balled her hands to tight fists, holding them up in the air as if bracing in front of a wave. Her body was tense but relaxed when he kissed her, falling into complete resignation and wrapping her arms around his neck.

The only wave was a wall of noise that seemed to come from every direction in the form of deafening cheers.

Danielle grabbed Isabelle's wrist.

“Come on, you,” she said, leading her away.

"Yeah, come on, you," Casey emphasized.

Orchestral music resumed.

"Quite the reunion," Thean said, startling all three of his Outriders.

Danielle must have seen him approaching.

Their attention snapped to him in an instant.

“Yes, sir,” Ferris said.

“Sir,” Darvin echoed.

​His eyeline shifted to Jace.

​​“Walk with me, boy.”

As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, receding into the crowd without another word.​

​“Good luck, brother,” Darvin said. “I’m almost positive he's not gonna kill you.”

Lang sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I’m not."

Jace looked down at his hands, flexing them slowly.

They were trembling.

​“Yeah,” he managed, still lost in a daze.

Then he turned to follow Thean.
​

STATIC

Chapter Fifteen  (E) Living Memory #2190680 by Dan Hiestand