Hours passed. Jaysynn grew so used to the destruction he saw, he hardly noticed it anymore unless the damage was exceptional or he and his entourage were forced to climb over piles of debris. Where once stood buildings—whether old or new, pristine or dilapidated—housing someone’s home or business, were now mountains of broken dreams. The emperor took care to step lightly out of respect, especially since these hills were many Thyrians’ graves.
Finally, Jaysynn and his escorts came to a pile of debris that seemed as tall as a skyscraper and as long as a mountain range. This was where several of Thyrion’s taller buildings had crumbled upon each other. They were nearing the Heart of Thyrion now.
They scaled the debris for what seemed like forever, carefully avoiding disturbing the unstable tangle of the structure. Though it appeared firm, one wrong move could collapse it like a house of cards. Several soldiers had already been injured climbing it in the days since the Cataclysm, Jaysynn was told.
They neared the peak.
Silence fell. Even the wind died down. Fear pricked Jaysynn’s heart.
The soldiers in front of the emperor descended down the other side of the hill.
Jaysynn froze, staring.
A mere few hundred yards from this mountain of debris was a ten-mile-wide crater. It was an empty, seemingly perfect circle that was a charred black in color. This was where the Heart of Thyrion was supposed to be. Although Jalseion’s Well was the deepest, theirs was the largest well of magic in the world. It was the life-blood of the city, the source of its immense power. Jaysynn had grown up hearing the priests of the Temple of Thyrion say that Elthor had formed the first two human beings within the percolating magic in that Well. It was literally the wellspring of life.
Now the Heart of Thyrion had been ripped out, leaving the city as a shriveled corpse.
Jaysynn wept.
After a few seconds, Jaysynn covered his eyes with his hand and wiped away the tears. I must appear composed for the soldiers. Thyrion’s warriors need a morale boost.
Composed, he began his descent, accompanied by the general and the soldiers.
Reaching the ground sometime later, they marched toward the crater’s edge. Jaysynn’s feet felt heavier with each step, as if the land mystically repulsed him. It was more difficult than ever to keep pace with the soldiers.
Dracon noticed this and leaned over to whisper to Jaysynn: “You’ve come too far to stop now.”
Jaysynn, still walking, clenched his fists and took a deep breath.
They stopped ten feet from the crater’s edge. Jaysynn ordered the soldiers before him to part so he could see it. They obeyed.
The emperor stepped forward, inching toward the precipice, and gazed in.
Emptiness. Black, barren emptiness.
Jaysynn sealed his stinging eyes and swallowed his cries.
He felt the strong hand of Dracon on his shoulder.
“What could have done this?” Jaysynn asked.
The general’s reply was quick. “Not ‘what’—‘who.’”
“Are you serious?”
“This wasn’t natural. Undoubtedly it was an attack from Remirion in retaliation for their losses during our last war a year ago.”
“They don’t have weapons technology this powerful.”
“But Jalseion does.”
Jaysynn turned to Dracon, shocked. “Jalseion’s scientists may be pretentious and greedy, but I can’t believe they would make a weapon that could do this.”
“You underestimate Remirion’s resources and arrogance.”
Jaysynn sighed, his gaze falling. “You’re sure about this?”
“It’s the only logical explanation.”
“Then what should I…we do?”
Dracon looked at him with the grim expression of a warrior. It was a face Jaysynn only saw on his mentor just before going to war. “Prepare for an invasion. Our enemies will not hesitate to strike the killing blow.”
“Why haven’t they done it already?”
“Perhaps they wish to watch us suffer before destroying us.”
“That doesn’t seem like them.”
Annoyance was detectable in Dracon’s voice. “You never fought wars against them. I assure you they are fierce fighters.”
“But that doesn’t make them sadists.”
“Regardless, Thyrion is vulnerable. We must protect ourselves.”
Jaysynn hung his head.
“You know what must be done,” said Dracon gravely.
The emperor glanced at the general. “A truce would be preferable to war in our wounded state.”
Dracon scowled. “‘Thyrion does not negotiate with its enemies.’”
Jaysynn harrumphed quietly. I hate that mantra.
Jaysynn sighed again. “Do it.”
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