The Last Silver

The first impact shook the chamber.

Dust fell from the ceiling.

Johanna looked upward.

"Was that orbital fire?"

No one answered immediately.

Then the communicator screamed.

"ALL CIVIL DEFENSE UNITS, THIS IS PLANETARY COMMAND. REPEAT, ALL CIVIL DEFENSE UNITS—"

Static consumed the transmission.

A second explosion followed.

Larger.

Claire's face went pale.

"They're firing already."

Dinraal turned toward the communicator.

"Who fired first?"

The officer on the other end hesitated.

Dinraal's expression darkened.

"Answer me."

"It isn't clear."

"That's not good enough."

Another voice cut through the transmission.

"Unknown vessels emerged from the fleet's formation before the Chancellor's flagship entered orbit."

Vael suddenly became still.

Dinraal noticed.

"What?"

Vael looked toward the ceiling.

"They're here."

Arcturus stepped forward.

"Who?"

Vael's eyes hardened.

"The people I was trying to stop."

Silence.

Dinraal stared at him.

"You have a remarkable way of withholding important information."

Vael ignored him.

The communicator crackled again.

"Planetary defense is engaging unidentified ships. The Chancellor's fleet is deploying toward the capital."

Isolde's face drained of color.

"My father."

Johanna immediately moved beside her.

"My lady."

Dinraal looked toward Isolde.

She was staring at nothing.

For the first time since he had known her, she looked genuinely afraid.

Not for herself.

For what was coming.

"What does he want?" Dinraal asked.

Isolde didn't answer.

Vael did.

"The Gaunt."

Everyone turned toward him.

Dinraal slowly raised his left hand.

"The Chancellor knows I have it?"

Vael's silence was answer enough.

Dinraal laughed without humor.

"Fantastic."

Arcturus's hand tightened around his sword.

"If he has come personally, then the situation is worse than we believed."

Johanna looked at him.

"You say that as though the arrival of an entire fleet isn't already bad."

"It is."

Arcturus turned toward the thousands of dormant soldiers.

"But the Chancellor would not risk this many ships merely to recover his daughter."

Isolde flinched.

Dinraal noticed.

Before he could say anything, the entire chamber went silent.

A low tone echoed through the air.

Every screen activated.

The holographic image of the Chancellor appeared above the silver throne.

Older than the man Dinraal had seen in the recordings.

But unmistakable.

His face was calm.

Too calm.

"Isolde."

She stared upward.

"Father."

The Chancellor's eyes moved across the chamber.

Johanna.

Claire.

Arcturus.

Vael.

Then Dinraal.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Dinraal felt an unexpected chill.

The Chancellor smiled.

"Dinraal."

Dinraal folded his arms.

"You know, most fathers would start by asking how their daughter is."

Isolde glanced at him.

The Chancellor's smile faded slightly.

"Are you unharmed, Isolde?"

She looked toward the hologram.

"You brought a fleet."

"I came for you."

"No."

Her voice became stronger.

"You came because of him."

The Chancellor was silent.

Dinraal looked toward Isolde.

She had known.

Maybe not everything.

But enough.

The Chancellor finally spoke.

"The boy is carrying something he cannot protect alone."

Dinraal raised his hand.

"This?"

The Mithril Gaunt gleamed.

The Chancellor's eyes fixed upon it.

And for the first time—

his calm disappeared.

Only for an instant.

But Dinraal saw it.

Fear.

Vael saw it too.

He smiled bitterly.

"There."

The Chancellor ignored him.

"You cannot let them have it."

Dinraal blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"They are coming for you, and the gaunt."

Dinraal looked at his hand.

"Who exactly, are "They"?"

"The enemy we destroyed so many to quell."

The chamber went silent.

Claire stared at the hologram.

Johanna's weapon slowly rose.

Isolde took a step forward.

"Father."

The Chancellor looked toward her.

"No."

She froze.

The single word carried more authority than Dinraal expected.

Then the Chancellor looked back at him.

"Dinraal. You do not understand what you possess."

Dinraal laughed.

"That's becoming a theme."

"Listen to me."

Something in the Chancellor's voice changed.

For a moment, he didn't sound like a ruler.

He sounded desperate.

"That object cannot awaken."

The Mithril Gaunt began to glow.

Everyone looked toward it.

Dinraal slowly lowered his hand.

"Too late."

The Chancellor's face went white.

The hologram flickered.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Then Arcturus stepped forward.

"Why?"

The Chancellor looked toward him.

"Arcturus."

The old commander narrowed his eyes.

"You knew."

The Chancellor remained silent.

"You knew what the Gaunt truly was."

Vael laughed.

"Of course he did."

Dinraal looked between them.

"Would someone like to explain what everyone else apparently knows?"

Arcturus looked toward him.

But before he could answer—

the Chancellor spoke.

"It is a key."

Dinraal frowned.

"A key?"

Vael's expression hardened.

The Chancellor continued.

"Your father hid something."

The chamber trembled.

Dinraal slowly turned toward the enormous throne.

"What?"

The Chancellor looked directly at him.

"Something beneath this planet."

Johanna's face changed.

Claire took a step backward.

Dinraal remembered the creature.

The red eyes.

The thing crawling through the tunnels.

Vael slowly whispered.

"No."

The Chancellor looked toward him.

"You know what I'm talking about."

Vael's hands curled into fists.

"Don't."

The Chancellor ignored him.

"Your people called her The Ancient Mother."

Silence.

Then Vael moved.

He crossed the chamber so quickly that Johanna barely had time to react.

His hand struck the nearest control panel.

The hologram disappeared.

"VAEL!" Arcturus shouted.

Vael turned.

His face had changed.

The exhaustion was gone.

Only rage remained.

"You do not say that name."

Dinraal stepped forward.

"Vael."

"No."

Silver lines beneath Vael's skin began to glow.

Johanna raised her weapon.

Claire moved closer to Isolde.

Arcturus drew his sword.

Dinraal lifted both hands.

"Everyone calm down."

Vael laughed.

"Calm down?"

The walls trembled.

Deep beneath them—

something roared.

Everyone froze.

Vael slowly looked toward the floor.

"It heard him."

Dinraal's heart sank.

"What heard him?"

Vael looked up.

His eyes were filled with something Dinraal had never seen before.

Terror.

"The entity your fathers tried to hide."

The Surface

The city burned.

Johanna watched the images appear across the emergency military network.

Ships fell from the sky.

Some belonged to the planetary defense forces.

Others did not.

The Chancellor's fleet had surrounded the planet.

But it wasn't attacking.

Not yet.

The unknown ships were.

Johanna stared at the tactical display.

"That doesn't make sense."

Claire moved beside her.

"What?"

Johanna enlarged the image.

The unidentified vessels were small.

Fast.

They were attacking both sides.

Planetary defense.

The Chancellor's fleet.

Civilian infrastructure.

"They want a war," Johanna said.

Dinraal looked toward her.

"So they can take the Gaunt while everyone's distracted."

Johanna nodded.

Vael's expression became grim.

"Yes."

Dinraal turned toward him.

"You know who they are."

Vael looked away.

"Not exactly."

"That is not reassuring."

"They call themselves the Ashen."

Claire frowned.

"The Ashen?"

Vael nodded.

"They have existed longer than your Empire."

Arcturus's eyes narrowed.

"That is impossible."

Vael looked toward him.

"You always did think history began when Draecon discovered the stars."

Dinraal raised a hand.

"Focus."

Vael looked toward him.

"The Ashen believe civilization itself is the disease."

Dinraal waited.

Vael continued.

"They do not conquer worlds."

Johanna looked at the burning city on the display.

"What do they do?"

Vael's answer came quietly.

"They consume them, to bolster their numbers"

Silence.

Dinraal stared at the images.

Then toward the thousands of ancient soldiers.

Then at the Mithril Gaunt.

Father.

He suddenly understood something.

Or at least—

he understood enough.

"You knew."

Arcturus looked at him.

Dinraal's voice became cold.

"My father knew they were coming."

The old commander did not answer.

Dinraal stepped closer.

"That was why he lost."

Arcturus lowered his head.

Isolde looked between them.

"What are you talking about?"

Dinraal's eyes never left Arcturus.

"The final battle."

His voice shook.

"My father didn't lose because he couldn't win."

The chamber became silent.

"He lost because he needed the Empire to disappear."

Arcturus finally looked up.

Dinraal stared at him.

"So the Ashen wouldn't find it."

Arcturus's expression broke.

For the first time, the legendary commander looked old.

"Yes."

Claire whispered, "Find what?"

No one answered.

Then the entire chamber shook.

A crack appeared across the floor.

Isolde stumbled.

Dinraal caught her.

"Easy."

She looked at him.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then another roar echoed beneath them.

The crack widened.

Arcturus turned toward the silver throne.

"We are out of time."

Vael looked at Dinraal.

"The Ancient Mother is waking."

Johanna raised her weapon.

"Is she our enemy?"

Vael stared at her.

"Maybe."

Johanna lowered her weapon slightly.

"That was a very fast answer."

Arcturus moved toward the throne.

"Because she may be angry, or she may understand."

Dinraal's grip tightened around Isolde's hand.

Arcturus stopped.

The old commander's face was grim.

"Yes."

He looked directly at Dinraal.

"Both of your fathers buried her."

The silence that followed was worse than the roar.

Dinraal slowly released Isolde's hand.

"You're telling me the Empire hide her against her will?"

"No."

Arcturus looked toward the floor.

"The Empire worshipped her."

Vael closed his eyes.

Dinraal turned toward him.

"And your people?"

Vael opened his eyes.

"My ancestors did not."

The truth settled over the chamber.

The ancient facility.

The underground city.

The entity.

The Gaunt.

Everything.

Dinraal looked at the silver throne.

"This entire planet."

Arcturus nodded.

"Was created to serve as a resting place for the Ancient Mother."

The floor split.

This time, no one needed to ask what was happening.

A massive claw emerged from the darkness.

Johanna dodged to the side.

The claw hit nothing.

Then disappeared.

Then another crack opened.

And another.

The ancient chamber began to collapse.

"EVACUATE!" Arcturus shouted.

Thousands of soldiers moved at once.

The ancient army sprang into action.

Not toward Dinraal.

Not toward the exits.

They formed ranks around the throne.

Dinraal stared.

"What are they doing?"

Arcturus looked toward him.

"Fulfilling their purpose."

The old commander drew his sword.

"Defending their Emperor."

Dinraal stepped forward.

"I told you, I'm not your Emperor."

Arcturus smiled sadly.

"No."

The commander looked toward the soldiers.

"But you are our last chance."

The Mithril Gaunt burned.

A new voice entered Dinraal's mind.

Not Bahamut's.

Not the throne's.

Something older.

Something buried.

CHOOSE.

Dinraal froze.

The chamber disappeared from his senses.

For one impossible moment, he saw three paths.

In the first—

he fled.

He took Isolde, Claire, and Johanna.

They escaped.

Behind them, the planet died.

In the second—

he gave the Gaunt to the Chancellor.

The fleet left.

The Ashen found what they wanted.

And the stars burned.

In the third—

Dinraal stood alone before an army.

His father's army.

And the darkness beneath the world.

He returned to himself.

Everyone was looking at him.

Dinraal slowly took a breath.

Then he walked toward the silver throne.

Isolde grabbed his arm.

"Din."

He looked at her.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

She gave him a small smile.

"Good."

He frowned.

"What?"

"Because the people who think they always know what they're doing are usually the ones who scare me."

Claire nodded.

"She's not wrong."

Johanna folded her arms.

"This is a terrible time for emotional support."

Isolde ignored her.

Dinraal looked toward the throne.

Then back at Isolde.

"I might not come back."

Her smile disappeared.

For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue.

Instead, she reached up and grabbed the front of his armor.

Dinraal blinked.

"Ise—"

She pulled him down.

Then kissed him.

Everything stopped.

Claire turned away.

Johanna stared at the ceiling.

Arcturus suddenly found his sword extremely interesting.

Dinraal remained completely still.

When Isolde finally pulled away, she looked at him.

"There."

Dinraal stared.

"What was that for?"

She smiled.

"So you have something to come back to."

Johanna cleared her throat.

"My lady."

Isolde turned.

"Yes?"

"There are thousands of soldiers watching."

Isolde looked around.

Every helmet was facing in a different direction.

Dinraal almost laughed.

Almost.

Then the floor exploded.

The moment was over.

Dinraal turned toward the throne.

His expression hardened.

"Fine."

He climbed the steps.

The Mithril Gaunt burned brighter with every step.

Arcturus watched him.

Vael stood silently beside the ancient commander.

Johanna raised her weapon.

Claire checked her ammunition.

Isolde drew her rapier.

Dinraal reached the throne.

Then stopped.

He looked at the soldiers below.

Thousands of warriors.

Waiting.

Not for Bahamut.

Not for the Empire.

For him.

Dinraal hated the idea.

He hated the weight of it.

But he understood something now.

He did not have to become his father.

He did not have to rebuild what had been destroyed.

He could choose something else.

Dinraal placed his hand on the throne.

The entire chamber erupted in silver light.

Every soldier rose.

The ancient army spoke as one.

"COMMAND US."

Dinraal looked toward the darkness opening beneath the chamber.

The First Weapon, the source of the red eyes and the scraping roared.

He raised his hand.

For the first time—

Dinraal did not hesitate.

"Get everyone off this planet."

Arcturus stared at him.

Dinraal's eyes burned silver.

"And then?"

Dinraal looked toward the darkness.

The ground shook.

A massive shape began rising from below.

He smiled.

"Then we find out if I really am my father's son."

The lights went out.

And something enormous began to rise.

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