Chapter Fourteen

Fate Don’t Know You

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fate Don’t Know You

“When hatred reigns, borders are drawn in fire.”

BRYCE

The area known as the Eastern Access Roads, leading into the city of Hamon, was very heavily guarded - with two full 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, and that process had been remarkably seamless. This was much to the surprise, and even borderline shock, of Generals Thaddeus Creed and Graydon Lockhardt, who had envisioned an entire slew of logistical problems, to say nothing of the three decades worth of festering tensions. Since the end of The Looking Glass War, there had been time enough for memories of the conflict to poison one generation and be handed down to another.

The dreamers amongst the people described this new union as meant to be. The more cynical pointed out the powerful compulsion for survival over principle, and its ability to compel the adoption of any alliance. The truth most likely lay somewhere in the middle of these two ideas. However today, none of that mattered. Today would be a distraction to be cherished as a reprieve of sorts. A break from the unbearable weight of 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 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 this created lane in half, but with these so-called creatures unable to endure in the sunlight, and no ground assault deemed practical, 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 away the uncertainties 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, and this was no different, and it had given him an almost preternatural ability to take refuge in the present. It had been one of the first things Thean had perceived in the early days of his training, and the Constable thought of it as both the Outrider's greatest strength, and his greatest 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 of the Veil’driel cavalry legions flanked either side of the lane and stretched, along with the infantry, for almost as far as the eye could see. In addition to this, there were civilians watching from high-rises looking down on him. Anyone in the Republic of Veil’driel military knew what was coming. To anyone from Sindell they had only heard of it, but as Dabriel’s legend grew amongst them, the prospect of his riding “The Gauntlet” was one of their two favorite things about it. The other was his forbidden romance with Isabelle Talabray, most popular with starstruck mothers who told the tales to their wide-eyed daughters. But in the end, all of it was a distraction, a sort of shield the young Outrider provided as powerful as any that protected them through the night.

​“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 at some point 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 over to his fellow Outriders but they were already starting away, anticipating his request.

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

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 ruckus 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.

It was in that moment that they realized they had wandered slightly into the open lane to where the crowd was provided with an unobstructed view of them, and while Jace’s reputation was approaching near legendary status, Malcolm was still 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 amplify 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?”

The answer came out sounding like a question because by Malcolm’s demeanor, Jace wondered if he should have.

“We’re hearing it could be Ursinus. That we’re going after Artemus. Do you know if that’s true?”

“No,” Jace said. “I don’t.”

Malcolm frowned.

“I don’t.”

“If you do, could you—”

“Yes,” Jace said. “You’ll be the first to know.” He put his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “Or at least the third or fourth.”

​In what felt like a strange bit of timing, the announcer began speaking again, shifting the moment and 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 mean, I did most of the work but whatever,” Malcolm said.

Jace smiled but said nothing as the announcer went on:

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

​Jace was about to start back to where Darvin’s horse was waiting, when Malcolm turned away as if taking his cue. That is until Jace tightened his grip on his shoulder and leaned closer to his ear.

​“Don’t even think about it,” he said through gritted teeth to maintain his smile.

Malcolm smirked, and Jace started back without another word. When he leapt up into Bela’s saddle, another ripple of sound-excitement elevated through the crowd.

​He stood straight up in the stirrups and spread his arms, playing to the crowd and ratcheting up the tension as he had done so many times before, albeit never on this scale. So when the reactive wave of energy came back to him, Jace sat down immediately as if taken aback.

“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 that’s one way of putting it.”

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.

“Aye. Well here’s another way.” He waited for Jace to elevate his eyes. “It’s the same act, this. Audience aside, you know the players. So call the game.”

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

And Alarick smiled, knowing 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 full well all bowmen on the line were under the strictest orders to miss. Thean understood the role distraction played on morale, but he wasn’t willing, nor stupid enough, to risk this alliance’s greatest asset.

Jace knew this as well, which explained his consenting to riding any other horse but his own, stunt ride or no. An Outrider’s ride was an extension of their very being, a symbiotic ballet of instinct and intuition developed over years of experience.

This was just a show.

But his surge of adrenaline remained the same.

The massive crowd saw to that if nothing else.

An unlit cigarette twitched between his fingers.

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

Alarick looked up quickly. Then he went back to jotting more numbers, clearly amused at the distraction, and by having to take time to reply:

“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 a soft gray felt one rose up beside him, just as the light for his cigarette had, as if summoned out of thin air. 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: Fatalistic in familiar handwriting, which the Outrider slipped into his pocket with an understanding look.

Satisfied that all eyes were on him, Jace 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 knowingly.

“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 and Isabelle and Relic were alive.

So Jace rose to full height in the stirrups again.

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

As Alarick held one finger in the air and twirled it toward the sky, the enormous throng froze to a painted tableau—like the walls that might one day bear Jace Dabriel’s legend. The subtle switch from performer to Outrider was but a glimmer, the work of a single breath.

And for Jace, timing was everything.

He leaned forward.

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

With that, he clacked his heels, and the announcer's voice began its amplified narration of events.

“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 ball room. He was startled by the introduction, and when applause followed, he felt even more awkward. He gave an uncomfortable wave and smile to the throng below him. The landing he had entered on was overlooking the grand hall below, making Jace feel vulnerable and on a stage. He nodded for a final time, still smiling, and then began descending down one of the wide stairways leading down. The setup was identical to Lornda Manor, although this time he decided sliding down the bannister would not be the way to go.

The Outrider was also trying to recall the last time he wore his dress uniform. It wasn’t when he was actually awarded the Veil’driel Star, as it had happened in his absence after the events yet to be concluded began. It felt a little tight around the collar, and he grabbed at it a little as he descended.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, he was immediately spotted and greeted by Darvin Nash and Ferris Lang, who guided him to what was presumably a larger group near a large ice sculpture of an airship.

“Nice medals, show off,” Darvin said.

He glanced down to his chest, still looking uncomfortable and now a little 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. Although 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 in the entire Order’s history.

Weaving throughout the crowd, everyone he passed made way and exchanged knowing glances as the celebrity passed amongst them. When he reached his friends, he sighed with relief. Ferris’ wife, Danielle, handed him a glass of champagne as the trio arrived. 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 who knew he wasn’t supposed to be there, then cleared his throat and looked back to her.

​“And you look beautiful,” he said, still seeming distracted. “I don’t know what you’re doing with this guy.” He motioned to Lang, and as the group laughed, he The group laughed He felt a gentle tug on his sleeve. Looking down, he saw little Casey Lang, wearing the promised green dress, having been waiting patiently for Jace to notice her. When he finally did so, he opened his mouth and gasped. “Wooooooah, pretty girl,” he said. “Look at you. Veeeery beautiful.” She beamed at him, looking shy for a second before putting her arms up to Jace. Jace handed his champagne glass to Darvin Nash, put his hands under her arms, picked her up, pecked her on the lips when she pursed her lips and then transferred her over to his arm as he took the champagne glass back from Darvin.

​“Good job today,” he said as he handed back the champagne glass.

​“Mmmm,” Jace said as he took a sip. “Didn’t do that spinny thing.” ​Darvin winked at him and saluted him with his glass. “That Thean probably ordered them all to miss me probably also didn’t hurt.”

​Jace glanced up at the ice sculpture.

​Casey who had caught sight of a small table filled with pastries and things had been transfixed by it and now was sort of squirming, and still staring asked “Mommy, can I…”

​“Yes,” she said. “Go.”

​Jace put her down and she ran over.

​“It’s ridiculous how big she is,” Jace said, watching her go.

​“Yeah, well, she just loves you,” Danielle said, but then she smiled. “But who doesn’t these days? Pretty popular, aren’t ya? 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,” and many of his subjects bowed down to the ground, the others looked up and then bowed their heads respectfully.

And it all got silent, the music stopping, those who were not his subjects, were quiet and bowed their heads slightly, and he was dressed in the dress uniform of the air kingdom. His advisors were there including Giles but did t say anything. He went and assumed his spot at the giant table slightly elevated over all the proceedings, the Parliament sitting there with him, all old retired pilots themselves. Then, as tradition required, he motioned to the muscicians who started playing the beautiful Air Force song that was the national anthem. It was beautiful. “ When hatred reigns, borders are drawn in fire. Tonight we continue take steps toward extinguishing those flames.

​A formation of airships flew overhead.
​

​Jaden stood outside a heavy door, on the other side of which, her unconscious daughter was in bed. Her hand was touching the heavy oak of it with her head bowed, and she sighed.

​“Looking at it won’t make the courage come any faster,” the voice of Gabriel Foy came down the hall. “No matter how powerful a Tear you might be.”

​She smiled, and without hesitation rose to full height and walked to him. They embraced.

​“Has she regained consciousness, do you know?” he asked.
​Jaden shook her head. ​“Then let them be. There’s something that feels right about Avery being in there with her. I’m sure you feel it, too.”

She nodded, stepping back towards the door, retreating back into her thoughts again.

​“I just can’t believe that Artemus would …” she trailed off. “That Hazel …”

​Gabriel placed a hand on her shoulder.

​“Damn bad business,” he said. “But we’ll get it settled and sorted. Give it time.” ​He stuck out his arm, a triangle away from his body. “Now what do you say we go check out this shindig I’ve heard so much about?”

​She laughed, sniffed, and used the back of her hand to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

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

​“No,” he said. “But that goes without saying.”

​She laughed again and they started down the hall.

Casey came running back with a cupcake in both hands and simply jumped up at her dad, knowing that he would catch her and pick her up, that absolute trust that can only exist in that kind of relationship. He flung her up, bringing her to his arms. Then she poined up, motioning up with one of her cupcakes at the enormous glass dome ceiling.

​“Look!” she yelped, and all of them did. To see a beautiful shooting star streak fast across the sky. “That means a soul is going to heaven, right mommy?”

​She laughed, a little self conscious that it was now obvious that she had told her that at some point.

​“That’s right, honey.”

​Satisfied, Casey jammed one of the cupcakes against her mouth, taking a big bite, frosting all around her mouth.

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

In a heartbeat everyone was staring at Jace for a reaction, but what they found was anticlimactic. He had simply frozen like a statue. He had not even turned to face her, as if as long as he didn’t he could still hold out hope this was real.

When he finally did turn, he found himself staring at a sign as impossible as anything he had experienced in Mirror Lake or his experiences with Jaden. It was like being in a dream where the details don’t make sense if they’re thought about, but without thought nothing else matters. She was in her dress uniform. Even if she was really there, how could …

No one should know where their dreams come from.

She glided down the stairs and when she saw Jace she quickened her pace to the group he was standing in before remembering herself as she got there. Her eyes were wet, on the verge of tears, but she maintained enough rationalization to remember herself and the situation, having to fight against the extra step she took toward him and then had to suddenly pull back.

“Hey there, handsome,” she said.

Jace dropped the glass and it shattered at his feet.

Danielle smiled.

Darvin And Ferris exchanged a glance.

Murmuring struck up throughout the hall.

King William stayed seated in the ornate chair at the top of the landing, looking down, Gilson beside him.

Jace and Isabelle were standing just a few feet from each other. So close and so far away which defined them.

​Then Jace’s eyes drifted up to Thean up on a balcony up and to the side creed was with him and they stared down over a deafening silence impressive for an assembly this big that had seconds before been bustling with talking, activity, and music.

Standing there, there was an energy in the space between them that by the look on Isabelle’s face she was very familiar with.

“Don’t—” she managed in a broken whisper but there was no conviction behind it. She gasped as Jace charged her, pulling her into him and kissing her. At first she had her hands in the air with balled fists, but as she fell into it she wrapped her arms around his neck and her body relaxed. The feeling that comes with resigning to their fate after years of doing the opposite.

The reaction was all of the people breaking out into a cheer that sounded like an explosion, so loud and sudden it made little Casey Lang jump and almost drop her pastry.

Danielle Lang grabbed Isabelle’s wrists.

“Come on, you,” she said, pulling her away. Rescuing her. They held each other’s eyes until the three disappeared into the throng. And it was only then that Jace turned or seemed to know Thean was standing there.

Darvin Nash and Ferris Lang had no such issue, staring at their commander.

​“Gentlemen,” he said simply.

“Sir,” Ferris said.

“Sir,” Darvin echoed.

​He was answered by two nods and rigid postures with a successive: “Constable, constable.”

​And then his gaze was back on Jace.

​“Well,” he said simply in his gravelly voice, and Jace could smell the liquor on his breath. “That was interesting, wasn’t it?”
​Darvin and Ferris exchanged a quick glance, barely registered, and then their stunned eyes were back on Jace and Thean.
​“Walk with me, boy.”

​And with that, he simply turned and started walking away into the crowd.

​ Leaving the three Outriders alone and looking at each other.

​“Good luck, brother,” Darvin said, finally breaking the silence between them. “I’m almost lositive he’s not gonna kill kill you.”

Lang watched behind the Constable as he went.

“I’ll take that action,” he said.

​“Yeah,” Jace whispered in a daze, and followed Thean.
​

Chapter Fifteen  (E) Aleister confronting Leverette #2190680 by Dan Hiestand