Chapter 64 - Perspective

  Corvus watches as the two young men step out of the courier’s depot with Hara following a half-step behind. Alex pauses to take in the damage to the surrounding buildings, but there’s a curious detachment in his eyes. Corvus drops from his perch and glides down to join them, flaring his wings out at the last moment to land lightly on Alex’s shoulder.

  “As things stand, there should be no further immediate danger.” He informs the others, garnering a curious look from the incubus. “Or rather, there should be no danger originating from outside the city.” Corvus amends the assessment.

  Uril’s red eyes are locked on the crow. “You know something about what just happened, don’t you? You and Gravitas both seem to be involved somehow.” He says, unable to keep an accusatory tone from coloring his words. “What the hell just happened?” He demands, uncaring that he’s shouting at an Apex in the middle of the street.

  Startled by Uril’s outburst, Alex turns to see his boyfriend’s angry expression. He gives Uril’s hand a gentle squeeze, and watches as a measure of composure returns to the goat’s face. With a glance over at Alex, Uril squeezes back, thankful for the grounding presence Alex offers.

  Corvus doesn’t immediately answer. If a bird can manage an imperious glare, he certainly makes a valiant effort at it. But Corvus deflates after a heartbeat, letting out a mental sigh that transmits to the others. “Yes, Uril’raya. I do know what caused this event, as does Gravitas. We were present at the epicenter of the blast prior to the detonation.” He admits, judging that one of the long-term residents of the city deserves to have an answer.

  “There was a mechanism, engineered over centuries of preparation, that was constructed in one of the cavern chambers adjacent to Last to Burn’s territory.” Corvus begins to explain. “By magic and obfuscation, it was hidden well. I only learned of its existence when it was activated, roughly five weeks ago.”

  Alex frowns, and then tugs on Uril’s hand, getting the group moving again as he mulls over that timeframe. “Right before I arrived in New Europa.” He muses, walking hand in hand with Uril.

  “That is accurate.” Corvus agrees. “Alex, if you recall, I took a brief detour to meet with an acquaintance just prior. It was The Cultivator. An old, monstrously powerful, but cowardly Apex. He had done all in his power to make Hell itself forget his very existence.” He continues to explain the brief meeting, as well as the moment when the spell obfuscating The Gardner of Eden’s name had been broken. Alex, Uril, and Hara all listen in silence as they walk.

  By the time the group crosses into the district where their apartment is, Corvus’s explanation is winding down. “Ultimately, I had no way of anticipating just how devastating the effect would be. By the time I did understand the dire nature of the coming cataclysm, I could not have warned you any faster than Leviathan’s message was broadcast.” The crow-demon pauses, taking a mental breath. “I had believed that the greatest danger was the initiation of another Apex war. I was wrong.”

  As Corvus falls silent, Uril gets the impression that the explanation has run its course. Hearing what had happened does nothing to quell his anger, but understanding does temper its edge.

  “This is why I hate the Apex.” He spares a half-hearted apologetic glance to Corvus. “They’re always so caught up in their own schemes and power-games that they don’t stop to consider what damage they cause to people like us. Unless we’re somehow important to their plans.” He scoffs, grumbling under his breath. “As long as they get what they want, fuck everyone else.”

  Alex winces, hoping Corvus wouldn’t take offense at Uril’s candid anger. He was about to speak in Corvus’s defense, since Corvus had been extremely helpful to him. But then he remembers the couple confrontations he’d had with the crow. How Corvus had openly admitted to wanting to position Alex to confront The Glut. The words to defend Corvus die on his lips, and the moment passes without Alex speaking up.

  Thankfully, Corvus doesn’t seem offended by the outburst. He doesn’t deny Uril’s statement, or offer further defense of his own actions. Instead, he resumes his typical implacability, weathering the accusations that Uril aims at all Apex.

  The conversation stalls out as they pick their way across shattered streets and the rubble from a few collapsed buildings. When they’d set out from the depot, the city had been somewhat quiet. But by now, a low-level din of activity starts to pervade the district. Noise of rubble being shifted, the shouts of voices mingling together, and a rhythmic thump that keeps time like an immense heart beating. The sounds of a city coming back to life after a catastrophic event.

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  It isn’t until they’re nearing their block that Corvus speaks up again. “It may be scant solace, but I did what I was capable of to shield those I could. Not just Alex, but all those who have fallen through the cracks and been neglected in this city. Direct action has never been my forte, and perhaps that is a personal failing. Even so, your words ring more true than I care to accept, Uril’raya.”

  Stunned by the almost-apology, Uril pauses mid-stride to stare slack-jawed at the crow-demon. In the few weeks that he’d gotten to know The Carrion Lord, Uril had always thought of him as detached, dispassionate, and enigmatic. The only times he’d seen Corvus show warmth or emotional depth, it was usually prompted by Alex. And those moments were short-lived.

  But here was Corvus, The Guide, The Carrion Lord, sounding despondent at having been chewed out by a demon a fraction of his age and barely past the first threshold. Gravitas would have never so much as admitted the potential of wrong-doing, much less sound contrite about it. The only way Uril’s mind can rationalize the moment is that the weeks spent around each-other had built some level of rapport with the Apex crow.

  With his thoughts fishing for the appropriate response, Uril only manages “Yeah, uh… Just try to remember us little guys when you bigshots start smashing things.” He says, the bluster having gone out of him for the moment. If it weren’t for Alex tugging the group along up the stairs to the apartment, Uril probably would have stood on the street, dazed for a while longer.

  The apartment building had survived largely undamaged. There are cracks in the stone of the stairwell’s walls, and dust trickles down from above. But the structure is still stable and solid. Reaching the door though, Uril discovers the locking enchantments here have broken too. Only the physical bolt keeps the door secure, and even when it’s unlatched, the door sticks in the frame.

  Shoving on the door, it barely budges, opening just a crack. Uril tries again, shouldering against it. The wooden door groans in protest, but doesn’t shift. “Damn doorframe is warped.” He grumbles, ineffectually kicking the bottom of the door with a hoof. It takes Alex and Uril together throwing their weight against the door to force it open, sending both men collapsing over the threshold into a heap of limbs. Hara and Corvus follow after them, stepping over the pair with far more dignity.

  Uril picks himself up, and offers Alex a hand to help the other to his feet too. “Welcome home.” He says tiredly, meeting Alex’s eyes with a soft smile.

  “Thanks.” Alex says, dusting himself off before grinning at Uril in turn. “At least this place is still mostly safe.” He says, looking around. Uril’s wall-curtains had half collapsed, and would need to be hung back up, but with most of the furnishings being soft cushions and low tables, there’s remarkably little damage to the goat’s possessions. At least, in the common room area.

  Checking the curtains, Uril is surprised to find his privacy enchantments still clinging to the soft fabrics. All he’d need to do is rehang the dislodged ones, and all would be back in working order. “Weird that my little spells on these are still working while the bigger ones broke.” Uril muses, rubbing one set of the silk drapes between his fingers.

  That draws Alex’s attention. “Maybe it’s because the enchantments were in something flexible?” He suggests, starting to help pick up the fallen portions. “Would make sense.” He muses, then turns to see Uril glaring between the drapes and the door.

  “No… It doesn’t.” Uril says slowly. “If it were just the environmental enchantments, or the roads, sure. But no, the lock’s enchantments failed. So did the tamper-proofing ones at the depot.” He says, shrugging. “Would have figured the doors would have been safe too.” He grumbles. “I’m not gonna feel quite safe until that gets fixed.” He says, then moves back to the door in question and presses his hand against it.

  With a flash of faint light, Uril fixes the door in place with a holding charm, ensuring it won’t let go unless he breaks the charm, or someone overpowers the magic. “That’ll do for now, but I only know basic enchanting, so it’ll have to be someone else to repair it.” The goat sighs and shakes his head. “But hey, still got a roof, still got each other.” He offers Alex a weak smile, obviously starting to be worn a little thin.

  Even Corvus helps pick up the silken wall-curtains after switching to his human-like guise. Hara tries to help, but after realizing how easy it would be for her teeth or claws to tear the thin fabric, she’s relegated to moral and emotional support. It at least earns her plenty of petting and rubs behind her ears. Rehanging the drapes is easy enough, just pushing the pegs back into their holes is enough to hold them up again for now.

  In short order, all but Corvus find themselves slumped on the cushions. The day’s events had taken a toll on each of them in different ways. Even the crow-demon, though he doesn’t show it in the same manner. Huddled together in a nest of soft fabric and plush pillows, Alex, Uril, and Hara are quickly claimed by sleep. Corvus watches over them, letting out a soft sigh as he allows the guise to fade, assuming his true form again.

  “Perspective.” He muses to himself, looking at the three lives that Apex like himself had put in jeopardy. A whole city of such lives. “We all tend to lose it, given enough time and power.”