Re-Awakening: I Ascend with a Legendary class

Lily was waiting at the south gate.

She did not run to meet him. She never did. She waited until he came through the white stones, and then she took his arm, turned it over, and looked at the inside of his wrist.

The charcoal was smeared. But the words were still there.

LILY. ONE. ALMOND.

”You kept it,” she said.

”It took your name,” Almond said quietly. ”The Forgetter. I stood on a hill and reached for your name, and it wasn’t there.” He looked at the smudged letters. ”This gave it back.”

Lily did not say anything for a moment. Then she pressed her thumb over her own name, very gently, as if she could press it in deeper.

”Then I’m glad I wrote it big,” she said. Her voice wobbled only a little.

”So am I.”

She looked up at him. Her eyes were wet, and she was laughing at the same time.

”Don’t wash it off,” she said.

”I wasn’t going to.”

Kayla took one look at Corvin’s arm and sat him down on the nearest bench.

”Who did this?” she asked.

”I did,” Corvin said.

”With what?”

”Winter. Raw. All of it at once.” He lifted his chin. ”There was a heart that needed freezing.”

Kayla gave him a look that had made Silvester sit down and stop talking more than once. Corvin did not sit down any further, but he did stop talking.

She put both hands on the gray, stiff arm.

Mend.

It was a long time before anything happened. The arm stayed gray. Kayla’s face stayed calm. Corvin sat very still and pretended to be bored.

Then, very slowly, his little finger twitched.

Corvin stared at it.

”It’s in there,” Kayla said. ”It’s all still in there. It’s just frozen a long way down. It’ll come back. But slowly. Weeks. Maybe a month.”

”A month,” Corvin said.

”If you don’t do anything stupid with it.”

Corvin looked at his twitching little finger for a long moment. Something in his face eased.

”I make no promises,” he said.

John was waiting in the main square.

He was sitting on the edge of the old fountain beside the little shoot with the colored leaves. He had his hands in his pockets, and he looked like a man enjoying a sunny afternoon.

Corvin saw him from across the square and stopped dead.

Then he started walking. He did not slow down. He walked straight across the square with eleven thousand of his people watching, and his good hand closed into a fist.

John did not get up.

Corvin stopped a foot in front of him.

”You came through first,” Corvin said. His voice was low and shaking. ”Weeks before us. You knew what was out here. And you didn’t send anyone back to the Door. Not one person.”

”I didn’t know you’d come so soon,” John said.

”You didn’t check.”

”No,” John said. ”I didn’t. That was a mistake.” He looked up at the old king. His face had lost its easy smile. ”I’m sorry, Corvin. I mean that.”

Corvin stood over him, breathing hard.

”Forty-one,” he said. ”I lost forty-one.”

”I know. Big D told me.” John’s voice was very quiet. ”I’m glad it wasn’t more. I’m glad you made it.”

The square was silent. Everyone was watching.

Then Corvin let out a long breath through his nose and unclenched his fist.

”Fourth place,” he said.

”Tenth,” John said.

”I’ll get you for that.”

”I know you will.” The smile came back, a little. ”You’ve been saying so for as long as I’ve known you.”

Corvin snorted. He turned to go. Then he stopped and looked back over his shoulder, and his eyes narrowed.

”They tell me you’re an F,” he said. ”Like the rest of us.”

”That’s right.”

”Liar,” Corvin said. ”You’ve never been an F in your life, little John. Not one day.”

He walked away before John could answer.

John watched him go. He did not say anything at all.

That evening, Marcus brought Almond the numbers.

”We had forty thousand,” he said. ”Plus the hundred and forty from Greywatch. Now Frosthold’s eleven thousand on top.” He looked up from his list. ”Brightwater holds sixty.”

”So we’ve got room for about nine thousand more,” Almond said.

”Nine thousand. And there are six more kingdoms still to come through that Door.” Marcus put the list down. ”That’s room for one. Maybe.”

Almond rubbed his eyes.

”Then we need more lines,” he said.

”Nobody can make lines.”

”Somebody did.”

Big D had been sitting in the corner the whole time, saying nothing. Now he stood up.

”Come with me,” he said. ”Both of you. I want to show you something.”

He took them to the great hall.

It was dark inside, except for a single lamp. The walls rose up all around them, covered from floor to ceiling in names. Big D did not look up at them. He walked to the very back of the hall, to the oldest corner, and knelt down.

”I read every name on these walls,” he said. ”Four nights. You know that.”

”I know,” Almond said.

”The first thing on this wall isn’t a name.”

He held the lamp close to the stone.

Down near the floor, below the lowest row of names, there were words carved into the wall. The letters were old and worn, and much smaller than the names above them. Almond had to kneel down beside Big D to read them.

We came through the Door with nothing but our home.

The layer turned our home into a seed.

We planted it here, and the white stones rose up around it, and nothing could cross them.

To whoever comes after us: plant what you carried.

Underneath were four names. They were the first four names on the wall.

Nobody spoke for a long time.

”I read that the first night,” Big D said finally. ”I thought it was a prayer. Something people carve over a door for luck.” He set the lamp down on the floor. ”Then you asked me who made the lines. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Almond was still staring at the worn words.

”Our seed,” he said slowly. ”The Tree. The whole pocket world.”

”The gatekeeper said what we carried, we’d keep,” Big D said. ”And the layer kept its word. It just kept it the way this place keeps everything. It turned it into something you have to plant.”

”But Brightwater already had a line,” Marcus said. ”Big D planted our seed here, and the stones just lit up. They didn’t make a new one.”

”Because there was already a line here,” Almond said. ”Someone else’s home was already planted under this square, two hundred years ago or more. Ours didn’t make a new line. It woke up the old one. It made this place ours.”

He stood up.

”Every line in this layer,” he said, ”was somebody’s home once.”

Hessa was sitting at the long table when they came out. Orla was beside her. Almond told them both, quickly.

Hessa went very pale.

”There’s a stump,” she said slowly. ”In the middle of Greywatch’s square. It’s old and dead and hard as stone. Nobody knows what it was. The first wardens said never to cut it down, so nobody ever has.” She put her hand over her mouth. ”Three hundred years. We walked past it every day.”

”Somebody’s home,” Orla whispered.

Corvin had come in behind them. He had been listening at the door with his arm in its sling, and he had heard all of it.

”My home is gone,” he said flatly. ”Frosthold’s halls. Our capital. We came through with nothing. I carried nothing but my people.”

”Are you sure?” Big D asked.

”Of course I’m sure.”

”Our seed was in my coat,” Big D said. ”I didn’t put it there. I put my hand in for a list of names and it was there instead.”

Corvin opened his mouth to argue.

Then he stopped. He looked down at his white furs. Slowly, with his good hand, he reached into an inside pocket.

He took out something small and round.

It was a seed. It was blue-white, like old ice, and when he held it up to the lamp, frost formed on his fingers.

Corvin stared at it.

”I thought it was ice,” he said. His voice had gone very strange. ”I found it in my pocket the morning after the Door. I thought it was a bit of ice from the crossing. I kept meaning to throw it away.” He swallowed. ”It never melted.”

Nobody said anything for a while.

Then Almond spoke.

”The Door is five days’ walk from here, and six more kingdoms are going to come through it. Every one of them will be F. Every one of them will know nothing. And every Ender for fifty miles will come running when they do.”

He looked at the blue-white seed in Corvin’s hand.

”Plant it at the Door,” he said. ”Next to Ainen’s fire. Make a line there. Then the next kingdom that comes through walks out of the Door and straight into a sanctuary.”

Corvin’s hand closed around the seed.

”You want me to plant my home,” he said, ”in a field. Next to a door. In the middle of nowhere.”

”Yes.”

”My halls. My city. Everything Frosthold ever built.” His voice was rising. ”You want me to bury it beside a campfire so that strangers have somewhere to sleep.”

Big D answered before Almond could.

”Yes,” he said. ”That’s what homes are for, out here.”

Corvin glared at him.

Big D did not look away.

”I spent ten thousand years without one,” Big D said quietly. ”I know what it’s worth. And I know what it’s worth to walk out of the dark and find one waiting for you.”

The hall was very quiet.

Corvin looked down at the seed for a long time. Frost was spreading over his knuckles. When he spoke again, his voice was rough.

”Someone has to keep a light on,” he said. ”Isn’t that what your cook said?”

”Something like that,” Almond said.

Corvin let out a long breath.

”Fine,” he said. ”Frosthold holds the Door.” He tucked the seed back into his furs, carefully, against his chest. ”But I want it known that I’m doing this for my own reasons. Not because anyone told me to.”

”Of course,” Big D said.

”And little John walks there with us,” Corvin added. ”Every step of the way. I want him where I can see him.”

Lily was waiting outside the hall.

She had heard most of it through the open door. She fell into step beside Almond as he walked out into the lamplit square.

”Every line was somebody’s home,” she said quietly.

”Every one.”

They walked for a while without speaking. The little shoot in the old fountain glowed faintly in the dark.

”The Empress was standing at the back of the hall,” Lily said. ”Did you see her?”

Almond shook his head.

”She heard all of it. When Corvin took out his seed, she put her hand in her own pocket.” Lily looked up at him. ”She didn’t take it out. She just kept her hand there, and she didn’t say a word. Then she left.”

Almond stopped walking.

”Skytheum,” he said.

”Skytheum,” Lily agreed. ”First empire on the layer for longer than anyone can remember.” She took his hand. ”Whatever she’s carrying, I don’t think it’s small.”