A King's Caution Part One

Book Two of Three

Chapter 1: Keeping Watch

Middle

 

In the two months since the battle against Teron’s forces on a nearby beach, protecting Raimie had gotten much more difficult. Fortunately, that difficulty hadn’t lain with the man himself this time, although he was prone to making fantastically reckless choices. No, for once, the steadily rising danger to Raimie was coming from a known, tangible source. Unfortunately, said source of danger was also incredibly varied and numerous.

As I trailed behind the pair of men I’d been following for the last quarter mark, I kept my hands in my pockets with a quiet whistle on my lips. People always assumed that if you meant to track someone, you had to ‘stick to the shadows’ and ‘stay silent’. I’d always found those methods made you look suspicious much more quickly than a normal, friendly demeanor might.

These two targets had been planning something sinister for a while now, but I had yet to take care of them, hoping they’d lead me to other, like-minded people before I had to make a move. While their obvious hostility was concerning, they hadn’t made any definite plans yet, merely shaky fantasies of kicking the crap out of the ‘disgusting primeancer king’ in their midst.

Alouin, if I didn’t hate them for even thinking about laying a finger on Raimie’s head, but currently, we were in hostile territory. Sure, the leader of this town, Tanwadur, might have reluctantly welcomed Raimie and his army into Tiro—

And hell if I knew how that had happened. My people certainly hadn’t been involved with it.

—but everyone knew how much both Tanwadur and Tiro’s citizens resented the presence of foreigners in their midst. Raimie had been helping with that by staying open and friendly with anyone who approached him. Perhaps he even thought his efforts were working, but I couldn’t afford to be as optimistic, not when I was the one standing between him and a blade in his chest.

The men I was following made a sudden turn into Tiro’s city square, hustling across it toward Tanwadur's home, but they didn’t approach its door, which surprised me. I’d thought for sure that that man would have been involved in this plot, and after walking for a bit more, the two men proved me right. They scuttled to one of the home’s windows, huddling against it after one had tapped on its surface, and ambling past them on the far side of the street, I turned around the next corner, still whistling. Still with my hands in my pockets.

Once I was out of view, though, I switched to a quiet hum, leaning against a wall with my arms and ankles crossed. There, I waited until I heard people moving in the street beside me, and as that sound drew closer, I fell silent, drawing as close to the wall as I could get.

The two men soon came into view, fervently whispering to one another. They were so intent on this that they didn’t notice me sliding into the street after them, but… that was to be expected. These two weren’t members of a rival kingdom’s Hand or one of the cloth-wrapped spies that Tiro claimed as its own. They were simply prejudiced men, ready to indulge in their ridiculous hatred instead of giving the person they despised the benefit of the doubt.

Soon enough, the two split up, but not before I spotted one of them handing off something extremely disconcerting to the other. When had Tanwadur—who this item had surely come from—gotten his hands on a pistol? From what I’d learned, the Audish people didn’t have that piece of technology at their disposal. So, did that mean one of Raimie’s soldiers had lost theirs? Or could they have willingly surrendered their sidearm, on the promise that it would be used to kill the reviled primeancer in their midst?

If that last supposition was true, the target of said soldier’s malice would most definitely not have been Raimie. To my great relief, the kid had worked his typical magic on the people who called him king. He held their loyalty in a near-iron grip.

No, said soldier had probably thought his weapon would be used against Rhylix, Raimie’s friend. Also, the other primeancer in our midst.

Not that any of that mattered. The proposed scenario was simply that. A hypothesis that I hadn’t tested or proven. Either my associates or I would find out the truth within the next few days.

In the meantime, I continued strolling after the man who had the pistol, subtly signaling to my backup on a nearby roof. He’d been following me the whole time, in case this exact situation happened, and for once, I was grateful for his insistence on redundancy. He could take care of the other man while I continued following the main threat.

Eventually, my target reached his home, and I settled in to wait, crouched in an out-of-the-way corner. Still merrily humming, I retrieved a flask from a pocket. It was full of water, but to anyone who spotted me, I’d look like someone who’d finished my work for the day, enjoying a drunken state as a result.

Once night came calling, I stored my flask again, glancing down the street before crossing to my target’s front door. I slipped inside, scanning its shadowed confines, before moving toward the distinctive lump of a man on a bed in the corner. Once there, I plucked the pistol out of his loose grip—gah, why would he leave it out in the open like that?—before sliding his pillow out from under his head. Tucking the weapon into my belt, I got onto my knees at the head of the bed before firmly pressing the pillow over this man’s face.

After a moment, he woke up, soon thrashing to get himself free. I didn’t move, watching him struggle with a dim sense of satisfaction.

No one threatened my Raimie, my king, my friend unless they wanted to end up like this: fighting to breathe while in my arms.

When the man’s efforts went from sluggish to nearly non-existent, I released pressure from the pillow’s edges, watching his chest until it fell into a slow rhythm, but then, I tossed the pillow away. He wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

After lighting a lantern, I searched both the man and his home for any ammunition or gunpowder that Tanwadur might have given him, and once my sweep was complete, I left a single round on the table with a message, carved into wood, beneath it.

Try this again, and I’ll finish the job.

This and the sudden death of the man’s companion should be enough to keep him in line. My associate favored using poison on unsuspecting targets, which usually ended with them as a cold corpse on the floor.

With this chore done, I could get back to what had become both my most and least favorite part of the job: keeping an eye on Raimie. As I started looking for the kid in his favorite bolt holes, I considered what to do about Tanwadur. As the leader of our current refuge, I couldn’t make any moves against him, not until Raimie had secured another base of operations, and this annoyed me.

I knew that Raimie would almost always be under threat, whether he succeeded with freeing Auden or not, but for now, that threat level was low, and I’d much prefer to keep it that way for as long as possible. Currently, Doldimar and his minions had no idea where he was—we hoped, at least—and an unusually fierce winter was keeping us inside Tiro. This was the safest Raimie would be for the next few years, and Tanwadur was not helping with that. I wished I could just fix this problem, in whatever way I must, but… I couldn’t. For many reasons.

Tonight, Raimie was at one of Tiro’s many taverns, a place owned by a man from the northern Matvai clans. Finding out about that faction had seemed like such good news, up until we’d also learned how isolationist and violent they were, much like Ratchav in the east.

Over the last two months, Raimie had been favoring this place, so I wasn’t surprised to see him lounging here, in a booth along the far wall. What did surprise me was Rhylix’s absence from his side. I was happy about that, of course, if only for my own admittedly petty reasons, but still, it was surprising and in small part, worrying. Much as I might dislike him, I was happy to admit that Raimie’s friend was excellent in a fight. I’d always liked having him as another layer of security around my charge.

When I briefly scanned the tavern, my eyes quickly landed on the woman near Raimie’s table, laughing with the group of men around her. Even though I’d asked her to watch Raimie’s back while I’d taken care of the threat, my heart still skipped a beat at the sight of her, and I had to concentrate on keeping my face in a congenial smile. Would heat always fill my chest whenever she was nearby?

Thankfully for my  focus, another woman’s laughter quickly brought my attention back to my charge.

And the girl sitting on the bench beside him. After sliding a mug his way, she leaned into his side while he flushed, and I took a moment to pinch the bridge of my nose.

He was with her? Again?

From the moment I’d seen Raimie with her, I’d known Ren would be a problem, if not in the way that she’d become. As Tanwadur’s adopted daughter and Rhylix’s sister, she’d presented a complicated relationship that my socially awkward charge would have to deal with, and of course, he’d ended up doing that in the worst way possible, the one I never—not in a million years—would have expected from him.

Didn’t Raimie understand what his courtship of her could cause? She was half-Eselan, and much as I might not care about her heritage, the people of Auden most certainly did. They would not support a king who was involved with an Eselan, but it seemed Raimie hadn’t thought about that, and I… I didn’t know what to do about it.

Sometimes, I wasn’t sure if even he knew what he was doing. Over the time I’d known him, Raimie had never seemed romantically interested in anyone, and the fact that this had happened now didn’t match anything I’d once known about him. He’d always seemed… almost oblivious when it came to things of that nature. Sometimes, it felt like no one had explained the idea of romance and attraction to him.

I was happy for him. Truly. Everyone deserved to experience first love at some point in their life. But I also knew that this relationship would end in heartbreak for my charge, and I wasn’t sure how—or if—I could share this with him.

“Oswin!”

With a gasp, I realized I’d been idly standing in place, still pinching my nose, for who knew how long, and dropping my hand, I rushed to fix a smile in place. At his booth, Raimie had raised a hand overhead, which let me amble to him.

“You have perfect timing!” he said as I approached. “One of Ren's spooky friends just summoned her. Gods, will they ever let us have an evening together without interrupting it?”

With a huff, he rolled his eyes, although that quickly turned to a grin when Ren glared at him.

All the while, I watched, wondering if Raimie knew that Ren’s ‘friends’ were actually part of Tiro’s defense: cloth-swaddled warriors who ventured into Cerrin Forest to wipe out the Kiraak and Doldimar’s scouts. I wondered if he knew that the woman at his side oversaw that group.

“Anyway, she has to leave now, so I thought I’d head for bed,” Raimie soon continued. “Care to join me?”

Care to join him. As if that hadn’t been a foregone conclusion.

Folding my arms behind my back, I simply smiled at my friend.

“Lead the way, sir.”

Once we were on the street, I paid Raimie perhaps a quarter of my attention, lending the rest to a constant scan of our surroundings. Raimie didn’t seem to notice—he never did, thankfully—and I refused to think about how different this was when compared to the past.

Yawning, Raimie stretched his arms overhead.

“I can’t wait for spring to come,” he said. “Much as I’ve enjoyed the break from… well… everything, I’m ready to get this show on the road again.”

With a soft laugh, I said, “I’ve been looking forward to that too.”

If only because it would keep my charge occupied with something other than Ren or the other, frankly, concerning habits he'd taken up recently. Just the other day, I’d stumbled across a book on lockpicking that he’d left open on his bedroll. I’d love it if my friend picked that skill up again, but it had also been rather annoying that he hadn’t asked me for help with it. Of course, he had no way of knowing how much I’d have enjoyed teaching him the skill, considering how snarky the kid had always been about learning thing so much more quickly than-

No. I couldn’t think about the past right now.

“We’ll be moving on Da’kul as soon as the roads are clear, yes?” I said.

Most of the time, I wouldn’t bother with asking that question of a charge, but this particular one loved to change the script on me at the last minute. I did my best to stay on top of his erratic behavior, or I did so as much as I could, at least.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Raimie said. “Eledis, Marcuset, and I have discussed it into the ground already, and we still have at least a week before the winter’s snow begins to melt. Who knows how many times they’ll want to go over it again before then?”

“You know… you could always ignore them when they ask to do that,” I said, already smiling at what I knew his reply would be.

As expected, Raimie wrinkled his nose as he said.

“Maybe… but I don’t want to think about how Eledis would react to that.”

He shuddered, and I suppressed both a need to laugh and a vicious desire to maul that old man’s face off. He didn’t deserve to go anywhere near my friend…

Hell, tonight was shaping up to be a difficult one, at least mentally.

After several minutes of silence had passed, I noticed that Raimie was roughly rubbing his arms, and sighing, I shrugged out of my coat. It wasn’t like I needed it right now. We were getting close to where the soldiers—and Raimie—had been bedding down, and once we’d reached that place, I’d need to change into my uniform, ever to present as the silent and shining bodyguard of Auden’s soon-to-be king.

Silently, I offered the coat to my friend, and after glancing askance at me—which of course made me roll my eyes and shake the coat at him—he took the damn thing, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Thanks,” he mumbled under his breath.

I just shrugged, shoving my hands in my pockets with a hum on my lips again, until we reached our destination and Raimie disappeared behind a tent flap.

It was all part of the job, as I kept having to remind myself. Here, I wasn’t a friend, no matter what Raimie might have recently claimed. While in this hostile land, I was the bodyguard and spy of a primeancer king—stuck in enemy territory—doing everything I must to keep him alive.

Chapter 2: Taking a Fortress

Raimie

 

The winter months were over, and I was glad for it, even with how much we'd needed the break. We’d needed the time to recover from a devastating battle, time to get established, time to make plans. I’d needed the time to rest and learn, and if I’d also used it for other pursuits, no one had commented on it, not to my face at least.

For the first time in sixteen months, I felt somewhat settled. Grounded. Maybe even confident, for once.

Now, it was time to test everything we’d gained.

“Are you ready?” I whispered.

Beside me, Rhylix softly said, “Always.”

Time to move.

Hah! Why did so much of life come back to that one, precious commodity?

Shaking my head, I darted out from beneath the cover of the trees, keeping low to the ground. Ahead, the imposing tower of Da’kul loomed, and I might have found the sight more intimidating if Rhylix and I hadn’t already identified a weakness in its defenses.

Even still, I glanced toward a spot further along the tree line, checking for signs of the soldiers waiting there. I wasn’t sure why I was doing this. If I’d actually seen something, it would mean trouble, a surprise attack ruined.

They are a source of comfort. Family, came a thought from deep inside. Perhaps you need that reassurance.

Wincing, I said, Maybe. Considering I have you, though, I don’t know why that is.

Nylion didn’t get a chance to respond as I reached the wall at that moment. Never checking for Bright’s presence, I reached through them for Ele, even as I touched the mass of thick vines crawling up the wall in front of me.

This was Da’kul’s weakness, small as it was. In typical circumstances, an average person’s body weight would tear this plant off of the stone that it clung to.

Which was why I fed it a faint stream of Ele before mounting it. With that extra bit of strengthening, it held firm as I scrambled up it, though that proved difficult. The vines were thick, but I still had problems with finding handholds in them. They were closely plastered to the wall, and soon enough, their abundance died off until only weak strands remained, leaving a person’s height of wall above me .

I waited here for Rhylix to catch up, but when he did, he didn’t plunge forward like we’d planned.

Hesitating, he said, “Are you sure about this? If we take Da’kul, the peace from the last few months will be well and truly over.”

“It would have been over soon anyway,” I whispered. “So, can we please get this over with? If we survive tonight, I’d like to get home soon.”

Smirking, Rhylix said, “I bet you would. Someone waiting for you there?”

Gods, he’d never let me hear the end of that, would he?

Before I could make a comeback, Rhylix vanished, but from the distortion in reality that had taken his place, I knew he’d pulled an Ele bubble around himself. Sighing, I did the same, and together, he and I used our primeancy to make an impossible leap, easily clearing the remaining distance to the top of the wall.

Landing in a crouch, I hastily scanned my surroundings but found no enemies nearby, which wasn’t surprising.

This winter had been a bad one. Resupplying Da’kul with troops would have been near impossible, snowed-in as everyone on this side of Auden had been.

So, the fort was still manned with only the skeleton force that Teron had left here before the battle, months ago. Or that was what Oswin had told me, and I knew better than to doubt him. In the time I’d known that spy, he’d already proven himself ten-times over.

That made me no less cautious as I descended Da’kul’s wall from the inside, but as expected, Rhylix and I had encountered no one once we’d reached the bailey at its base.

Why was the fort’s abandoned state making my skin crawl? It was what we’d wanted, right?

Even still, it is rather creepy, Nylion said.

And I choked while containing a laugh. Gods, one of these days, his unexpected commentary would get us killed, provided I didn’t learn to control myself first.

As if aware of my unease, Bright and Dim, hovering in my peripheral vision until now, stopped short with their bodies going stiff, and I automatically ducked into cover, frowning at them.

Hello…? I said. Are you two all right?

They never moved, and within a breath, a nearby distortion in reality softly popped, revealing Rhylix.

“Something wrong?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head.

Why had my splinters turned into statues, and… why did Rhylix look almost as distracted as them? What was I missing?

Hesitantly, I said, Bright? Dim?

While the Ele splinter remained unmoving, their counterpart spun on me with feral eyes and bared teeth.

“What?” they growled.

…Why did this feel familiar? Also, why was it happening now, when timing and a lack of distractions were paramount?

“Gods, how did I miss it last time?”

The tone of Rhylix’s voice had me turning to him with a raised eyebrow, only to have my stomach bottom out at the look on his face.

Meeting my eyes, he shakily said, “There’s a tear here.”

Oh… that made so much sense. It explained my unease and how my splinters were acting and-

Waitamoment.

“Godsdamnit,” I hissed.

As I continued with my quiet cursing, Rhylix just watched me, which only made things worse. I knew what he was thinking.

“I can’t, Rhy,” I said. “You don’t understand. The last time I did it-”

“Do we have another choice?” Rhylix interrupted.

Not really. A tear’s naturally imparted panic would wreak havoc among the troops, something wholly not good when completing an assault. If we wanted to capture Da’kul, I’d have to close this break in reality, and with how much time and effort I’d put into planning this assault, I couldn’t abandon it.

No matter how much fear Nylion was spewing at me.

He was trying to contain it. I could tell, but with communication fully opened between us, he couldn’t do that in full. Our bond, so long severed, no longer had barriers in place to block our emotions, and the water in its stream bed had become a steady flow rather than the trickle of the past.

I wasn’t sure why he was afraid of closing the tear, but no matter how much I wanted to ask him about it, I knew he wouldn’t answer me. In some ways, he was like Rhylix: keeping things from me and going stone cold if I approached those topics.

Unlike with my friend, however, I somehow knew that Nylion was doing this for my own good, so I’d never pressed him about it. Because he refused to share these things sometimes, though, I’d been learning to do things regardless of how he felt, although this only applied in the direst of situations. The rest of the time, I went out of my way to respect his feelings, using them as a warning system for danger.

But Rhylix was still staring at me.

“Gods fucking damnit,” I repeated before blowing out a breath. “Ok. I guess we’re making a detour before opening the gate.”

Wincing, Rhylix nodded.

“I’m sorry, Raimie,” he said.

“Not your fault.”

Turning toward the bailey, I narrowed my eyes at the buildings on its other side.

“Any idea where it is, besides hidden?” I asked.

“No clue.”

Helpful. Still, I couldn’t expect my friend to know everything.

“But we could follow the tear’s aura of panic to its source,” Rhylix continued.

Or he could simply need a moment to conjure the problem’s solution from thin air.

“Sounds simple enough,” I said. “Shall we get started?’

As we raced across the fort’s bailey to its buildings, Rhylix and I kept our Ele bubbles wrapped around our bodies, but when we were beneath the roofs’ eaves, we released them. Feeling panic was relatively difficult when a source of peace was all around you.

We wandered between the buildings until panic started receding rather than growing, but then, we had to choose between the structures on either side of us. Approaching the first, I clicked my tongue.

“Of course it’s locked,” I said before glancing at Rhylix. “I could use Daevetch to break the door down…”

On seeing my friend rummaging through his pockets, I trailed off.

“Why make the noise?” he whispered.

With a flourish, he held a lock pick and wrench aloft, and I sighed.

“You know how to pick locks,” I said. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Live a few hundred years, and you pick up some tricks,” Rhylix said.

While he crouched in front of the door, I worked on suppressing my irritation.

Not at Rhylix. He’d done nothing wrong. It was just that for months, I’d been looking for someone to teach me this skill. Nylion and I needed it to open a certain locked chest in our mind, but to date, I’d been unsuccessful in the search.

Perhaps I could have asked Oswin to teach me. I was sure he knew how to pick a lock, but every time I’d considered posing the question to him, I’d shied away from doing it. Contradictory as it might seem, I hadn’t wanted to ask him about something so sordid, even knowing the skill was in his repertoire.

Or maybe I’d been delaying with this task for other reasons. I didn’t know what the problem was, and when I tried to solve the conundrum, my thoughts always ended up wandering.

Now, however, I had no further excuses. As I watched Rhylix pick this lock, I compared his presented example against everything I’d learned in books, and with it, I had a good idea of how the process worked. After a little practical application, this skill would be mine.

About time, Nylion said.

Wincing, I said, I’m sorry. I’ve been distracted lately.

Maybe Nylion grumbled something back at me. If he did, I didn’t catch it, too preoccupied by Rhylix swinging the door open.

Inside, we found stored weapons and armor, which was only mildly disappointing. We might not have found the tear here, but if we managed to seize this fort, these supplies would be ours.

So, we darted across the gap to the other building. To my surprise, this one was unlocked. Why would anyone leave a tear unguarded, given how much the items from one could fuel an economy?

Cut off as Auden has been, that may not have been the case here, Nylion said. Besides, remember how bloodthirsty the Kiraak are. It is no wonder their superiors would secure those weapons.

True… I said.

Why, though, would Nylion be thinking about things like that?

Shaking myself, I followed Rhylix through the door, and on the other side, we found our goal.

As always, the black and white ovoid of the tear mesmerized me. The light undulating around its shadowy interior pulled at me, distracting me almost as much as the tangible fear in the air, but I tore my gaze off of it, helped in part by running into Rhylix.

He’d stopped short, staring at the tear with glazed eyes, and nearby, our three splinters, entirely visible here, looked much the same. They swayed toward and away from the anomaly, continually wincing.

The look on their faces distinctly reminded me of how Bright had appeared in the moment before their destruction, months ago, and seeing this, I once more grappled with the impossibility of their continued existence. Over the winter, Rhylix had shared with me exactly how strange it was that I’d been able to reconstruct my Ele splinter, another drop of the impossible added to so many other mysteries circling me, and for a moment, I again faced the confusion and utter discrepancy that surrounded my own life. Why couldn’t I answer some of the most basic questions about how and why I could do what I’d done?

But then, I shoved it below the surface again, focusing on my companions.

“Everything ok?” I said.

Grimacing, Rhylix said, “Not really. That thing serves as direct access to Ele and Daevetch. Given everything I’ve shared, I’ll let you speculate on how it's affecting me.”

Yeah… probably not in a good way.

“I’d better get started, then, huh?” I said.

But gods, if I didn’t want to. I could recall in vivid detail the last time I’d closed a tear, and that absolute wrench through the core of my being…

It hadn’t been fun.

At least this time, I might not have to touch the damn thing. I already knew how to accomplish my goal, having no need to consult with anything beyond that break in reality.

Hesitantly, I teased at the power behind my splinters, and like before, Ele and Daevetch flowed from not only them but also the tear. Thank the gods for caution.

As always when holding onto both of the primal energies, a war sparked inside of me, trying to rip me apart, and I acted as a negotiator between them. Ele and Daevetch, however, refused to cooperate this time. Any time I brought them close to one another, they shot apart like black and white bullets, and after struggling with this for far too long, I almost, almost gave up.

Before I could release my hold on the energies, though, they surrendered to my will, melding into something I found utterly foreign.

I only gave myself a moment to enjoy it this time. I knew what came next in this process.

So, I turned this mix of peace and harmony… Balance on the tear, plastering it over that wound in the world like a bandage, and as the last drop was wrung from me, something deep inside wrenched. As this sensation rippled to the surface, I lost control of my legs, fully prepared to accept another host of bumps and bruises, but before I could receive this gift, someone took my elbow, steadying me.

I hardly noticed. The temptation to curl around my wound, licking at it, was as strong as I remembered, and all of my focus went to resisting it. Sleep, just out of view, laughed at my attempts, lapping at my mind.

And behind it all, Nylion screamed.

This should concern me… right? Why had I…. hurt myself like this?

As suddenly as it had swept over me, all that was wrong with me got stripped away, leaving me addled. What had happened? Why-?

Beside me, Rhylix grunted, and I realized that he was the one who’d taken my weight. Before shame for that could take more than a toehold, though, I had to return the favor. He released a strangled yell, and I knew what had happened.

“Oh, gods,” I whispered. “Rhy, what did you do?”

With his eyes unfocused, Rhylix didn’t seem to have heard me.

“Is this… what happens when you…?” he gasped.

He couldn’t finish the thought, but fortunately, white light washed over him at that moment. Clearing his throat, he shakily pushed me away, able to support himself.

“Raimie,” he said. “I-I’m so sorry.”

That was a confusing reaction. Yes, the result of a tear’s closure might not be pleasant, but it was manageable. It was like a papercut on my essence, although…

Nylion had barely had time to stop screaming in our head, reducing that noise to mere whimpers. What could have happened to him?

“Don’t worry about it,” I distractedly said. “Tear’s closed.”

I threw a hand toward where it had been hanging not long ago, noting my splinters’ absence with surprise. Where had they gone?

“We should get going. Open the gate for the others.”

Spinning for the door, I didn’t give Rhylix a chance to respond. He probably had questions. Who wouldn’t after assuming such a strange wound from a patient? This, however, wasn’t something I was willing to discuss. Given how often we’d talked about boundaries when it came to our respective privacy, Rhylix should respect that.

So, I drew an Ele bubble around myself and hurried across the bailey.

Chapter 3: Trapped

Raimie

 

As I approached the gate, I once more took note of how empty this fort had been. Even when exploring between its buildings, Rhylix and I had encountered not a soul. Sure, the battle had depleted this place’s ranks, but that seemed unusual.

But then, the gate came into view, and I started quietly cursing. Chains, secured by a padlock, were helping to keep the gate closed.

This, by itself, wasn’t unusual. With few available troops, a smart commander wouldn’t post sentries here when a lock would do just as well.

The problem here was that the padlock wasn’t facing the fort’s interior. It was on the outside of the gate, ready for any enemy to break or pick it.

As he caught up with me, Rhylix said, “So, you see it too. This was a trap.”

“How did they know we were coming?” I hissed.

“No clue,” Rhylix said.

And inside, Nylion’s whimpering went quiet.

Does it matter? he snarled. Focus on keeping us safe, you-

Cutting off, he wordlessly shrieked.

Do your job, heart of my heart.

Well, then. Someone was angry.

He was right, though. How could I get that gate open without springing the trap?

When we reached the wall’s shadows, Rhylix dropped his Ele bubble, examining the gate and its chain with a frown.

Glancing back at me, he whispered, “Break it down with Daevetch?”

“Aren’t you the one who’s always cautioning me against using that?” I shot back. “Besides, I’d rather take Da’kul intact, if possible.”

And I might have an idea for how to do that. Pressing up against the gate, I reached through its bars and…

Yes! I could reach the padlock, which meant Rhylix should be able to-

“Well, hello there.”

Those three words, spoken in a silkily seductive voice, froze me solid for a split second. Twirling in place, I identified the speaker: a woman with faded lines of Corruption running rampant under her skin. With gleaming eyes, she’d directed a predatory smile at Rhylix, and at the sight of it, I…

Do NOT detach right now, Nylion growled. For the moment, you must hold it together.

His voice snapped me back from a drift into the clouds, and rapidly blinking, I shook my head, trying to shrug off the fog that had enveloped me as well. What had that been?

Later, Raimie, Nylion said. That woman looks ready to kill your friend.

Right. Present circumstances. I should focus on those.

Running her eyes over Rhylix, the woman said, “How did someone as lovely as you sneak into my fortress?”

So… she was the enemy commander.

“Hello, Nessaira,” Rhylix said. “I’d hoped to avoid meeting you again, but since that’s not to be… how can I help you on this fine evening?”

Was- Was he trying to distract her?

What other play could he be making, though? If he was distracting her, was I supposed to be doing something, and if so, what was it supposed to be?

Sighing, Nessaira crossed her arms.

“Since you got into this place undetected, I’m guessing you’re the Ele primeancer who’s been giving my people such trouble,” she said. “Given that, all I want is for you to die.”

…That sounded about right.

Wincing, Rhylix said, “Harsh. In that case, shouldn’t you get to killing me? Or trying to, at least.”

“Oh, I will.”

Smiling, Nessaira lifted her hand to crook two fingers, and with the sound of stomping feet, the ramparts above us filled with Kiraak.

That wasn’t good. Time to execute the plan?

Yeah. I should probably do that.

“Rhy, lock pick set here, please,” I said.

Thank the gods, my friend didn’t question what I was doing. As he stuck a hand into a pocket, Nessaira leapt away from us, unslinging the tiny crossbow on her back.

“Who else is there?’ she said.

“Oh, that’s just Raimie. Don’t worry about him.”

Without removing his eyes from Nessaira, Rhylix tossed my requested items to me.

“I can give you a sixty count,” he said.

Just a sixty count? With everything he was, I’d expected more time, although maybe I was overestimating my friend.

Still.

“That’s plenty of time,” I said.

Or at least, I hoped it would be.

Nessaira had apparently had enough.

Sneering, she snapped, “Kill this idiot.”

And I spun back to the gate. As I grabbed the padlock through its bars, I ignored the sound of clashing steel behind me, trusting Rhylix to keep me safe. At the moment, my best course of action was to focus on my task, much as my body was screaming for me to join the fight.

So, I fumbled with a pick and wrench in the lock, using my newly gained knowledge to push pins into place. It seemed to take forever, and with every breath, I expected steel to part my flesh.

Soon enough, though, the padlock thumped into the grass, and I started ripping at its attached chain.

“Let’s go, Rhy!” I shouted.

As I rushed through the new opening, he was on my heel, and together, we raced for the tree line, shooting Ele into the sky. Behind us, Nessaira shrieked, and I could hear her Kiraak struggling to get through the narrow gate, slowing down their attempt to follow us.

Good.

We were about a quarter of the way down the hill when the first soldiers responded to our signal. As they spilled out of the tree line, we slowed our pell-mell sprint, although we never stopped.

Beside me, Rhylix laughed.

“Hell, that was close,” he gasped before bumping into me. “When did you learn to pick locks?”

“About a half hour ago,” I said.

Snorting, Rhylix nearly tripped over himself, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“I’m not as strait-laced as you might think, Rhy,” I said.

“Obviously not-”

Choking on his words, Rhylix reached for something, sticking through his neck, before tumbling to the ground, and without thought, I joined him there. Figuring out what had happened took me a moment—gods, he’d been shot!—but unlike months before, I didn’t panic at the thought.

Instead, I wriggled across the grass, digging my elbows into it, until I’d reached my friend, and braving a breath of exposure, I rolled him onto his side so I could snap the fletching off of the crossbow bolt in his neck. As I removed it, I ignored his empty eyes, focusing on what I knew.

Rhylix was Ele’s Champion. Because of this, the only person who could permanently kill him was his counterpart, Doldimar, and so, this death was only a minor hiccup in the grand scheme of things.

But as time dragged on, emphasizing each beat of my heart, doubt crawled into my mind.

Shaking my friend, I said, “Come on, Rhy. Get up. How will I explain it if you recover in front of my soldiers?”

They were quickly coming. I knew it, even if I also knew that reaching us would take a little while longer. Still, them coming across this mess could be awkward.

With a sharply drawn breath, Rhylix shot upright, clawing at his neck, before freezing.

“The bolt’s gone,” he said.

Glancing at me, he raised an eyebrow.

“You removed it?”

When I nodded, Rhylix softly chuckled.

“Thank you,” he said. “You saved me a wealth of trouble.”

What sort of trouble?

Shrugging, I said, “It wasn’t a problem. Now, we should get out of here before-”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Rhylix and I were on our feet before Nessaira had finished speaking, but even still, we barely dodged the crossbow bolt she’d shot at us. Panting, she was leaning on her knees with her weapon pointed at us.

“How are you alive?” she snapped. “I shot you. You went down. I saw it. So, how…?”

Even reloading as she was, neither I nor Rhylix moved, only exchanging a glance. Why risk rushing an armed woman when backup was so close?

“How do you think?” Rhylix said. “From what I’ve gathered, your Dark Lord’s been rather chatty on this go ‘round. So surely, you’ve heard mention of the Ele primeancer who refuses to die?”

Hissing, Nessaira recoiled from him.

“Champion of Ele,” she said.

With a smile, Rhylix flourished a bow.

“At your service.”

For the longest moment, Nessaira turned to stone, staring at us, but then, she spun and bolted for the forest, and I clicked my tongue.

“Rhy, can you-?”

“Already on it.”

He took off in a flash of light, and I relaxed. While I was sure that Nessaira was dangerous, desperate to escape with news of what had happened here, I also knew that my friend would catch her.

So, as soldiers sprinted past me, soon to clash with the Kiraak, I joined them. It was time to finish taking this fort.

Chapter 4: An Interrogation

Rhylix

 

To my great surprise, Nessaira had made tracking her a challenge. Not difficult! I’d simply had to expend more effort than usual with it.

I’d lost her soon after entering the forest, and since then, she’d left few signs of her passage, only the occasional broken twig or depressed footprint in the earth. It, however, had been enough, and she must know this.

I found her in a small clearing, sparsely lit through the leaves by the moon. Out of breath, she loosed another crossbow bolt at me when I came into view, and as I swayed to avoid it, she drew her sword.

“Why dodge like that if you can’t die?” she sneered.

Shrugging, I said, “Because it would still hurt. Obviously.”

“All the more reason not to duck.”

…What?

Rolling her eyes, Nessaira lifted her sword.

“So, what now?” she asked. “I can’t outrun you. Does that mean we’ll fight? Will… will you kill me?”

I really should. All of me cried for it, rebelling at the Corruption in her. It didn’t matter how much her voice had shaken while speaking or that her arms were trembling. She was an affront to Ele, and it would not abide her continued existence.

I, however, still saw her value. She could provide Raimie with inside information on current events in Doldimar’s kingdom and besides that…

Besides that…

No matter how much the Kiraak repelled me, I’d always hated killing them. They’d had no choice in what they’d become, and because of that, one of my most secret and vain hopes had been to find a cure for their affliction.

So. Would I kill Nessaira?

“That should never have been a question,” Creation said from behind me. “End the enemy, Eriadren.”

I ignored them, examining Nessaira instead.

“Just this once, let’s try something else,” I said.

Nessaira got a breath to look surprised before I shot a thread of Ele into her eye. Once there, I bade her to sleep, and she collapsed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Creation snapped.

I couldn’t help my smile as I crouched. Much as my babysitter had been less of a pain this cycle, I still enjoyed the times when I got to annoy them.

“Something you don’t want me to do, of course,” I said. “And don’t look at me like that. Raimie needs information, and this woman has it. That’s all there is to this.”

Making a face, I shoved my arms under Nessaira so I could sling her over my shoulders. As always in these situations, wherever I touched her and the Corruption inside her body, my skin crawled.

Getting her back to the fort would be fun.

I got about halfway to the forest’s edge before my crawling skin and the exhaustion of carrying a fully armored human being caught up with me. Dropping Nessaira, I slumped against a tree trunk, all while Creation watched me with tight lips.

Rolling my eyes, I said, “What? Something bothering you?”

They refused to say a word, and soon enough, I gave up any pretense of trying to appease them. Thunking my head against the tree’s bark, I stared through its leaves at the stars.

“What happened at the tear with Raimie…” I said. “Did you know that closing one of them hurts him so badly?”

I shuddered on recalling that awful tearing of my essence. It had been like a piece of it had gotten sucked away, and while that piece had returned to me, I couldn’t guarantee that Raimie had experienced the same. Would the gnawing ache of its absence forever haunt him?

“Raimie is an anomaly to me and my whole,” Creation said. “We’ve seen much of what he’s done before, but closing a rip in reality? No. In the distant past, one of you mortals learned how to create those, but no one has stitched one back together, not until Raimie.”

Interesting. Also concerning as hell. How was I supposed to handle something and someone that not even Ele had experience with? It was another reminder of how utterly unique my ally was this time around—his fluctuating mastery of the blade, his ability to resuscitate a splinter from destruction, the distinct oddness of people he’d never met still knowing who he was—and this both gave me hope and terrified me.

After millennia of the same grind year after year, anything different had become another chance to break the cycle of violence and death between me and Arivor. At the same time, though, having all of these anomalies circling my friend made me worry about what might happen to him. In my experience, no one as unique as Raimie could pass through life unscathed.

For now, I chose to focus on my fascination with my friend’s irregularities rather than everything else.

“Well. Thank you for sharing with me,” I said. lowering my eyes from the sky.

But Creation had disappeared.

“Of course they have,” I sighed.

They’d always been good at avoiding the truths they most wanted to keep hidden.

For a while, I didn’t move, enjoying the forest’s quiet while I rested, but once I had my strength back, I finished the journey back to Da’kul. I left Nessaira in the forest’s eaves, near where the soldiers had begun their assault. Her presence had begun to excessively tire me, and with the Ele in her, keeping her asleep, she wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

After making sure of this, I headed to the fort, hoping to task a soldier with retrieving our new prisoner.

The assault seemed to have gone well. While bodies were scattered across the fortress’ bailey, few of them were wearing the uniform of Raimie’s soldiers under their armor.

Several of my allies were clumped around a couple of the place’s buildings. I assumed that was where I’d find the enemy’s last holdouts, but while I could certainly help with clearing those buildings, I’d rather leave it to the soldiers. Given their numbers, they could handle that issue with little danger, and I was tired after such a hectic day.

So, instead, I approached a few of the solitary soldiers who were handling clean-up. As expected, most of them went out of their way to avoid me, barely holding their contempt in check when I caught their attention, and a few outright ignored me, not that this was much of a bother.

After the battle of the beach, the secrecy of my primeancy was out, and unlike Raimie, I had little to protect me from the general populace’s hatred of my magic. To date, only my ‘heroics’ during said battle had kept me from getting killed.

When I eventually came upon someone receptive to my request, it was in the oddest of people. While his body was smaller than the average man’s with signs of puberty rampant on him, he carried himself like the wisest of adults. As I explained what I needed, he listened with the most serious expression on his surprisingly handsome face, nodding once I’d finished.

“I can retrieve the prisoner for you, no problem,” he said. “Where do you want her delivered? Probably the tower, right? That’s where ‘His Royal Majesty’ has made his base, after all.”

For a breath, I could only blink at this kid. Most of the soldiers didn’t go around teasing their chosen king, and this person in front of me was so young… What had dragged him from his home in Ada’ir, if not king and country?

With a smirk, the kid asked, “You know… if you don’t need my help, I should get back to-”

“No. Thank you,” I interjected. “And the tower will do nicely. There should be some cells in the lower levels, unless I’m greatly mistaken. Leave her in one of those.”

Going stiff, the soldier saluted me.

“Yes, sir!” he said before relaxing. “And so you know, I think your friend needs you. He looked a little worn once the battle was over.”

Oh, no…

I knew that in the past, Raimie had usually fallen into a deep depression following periods of violence, but considering how carefree he’d seemed after our last battle, I’d thought maybe he’d been learning how to handle that.

“Thank you for telling me,” I said. “Do you know where I can find him?”

Pointing, the small soldier said, “Top of the tower. At least, that’s where it looked like he was headed.”

Of course. Raimie had always loved his heights.

“Again, thank you,” I said, “and good luck with the prisoner.”

Flicking his fingers in another salute, the kid raced for the gate, and I made my way to the tower. As I climbed its stairs, I wondered what I’d find at the top. How much damage control would I need to handle?

The room at the tower’s top had, unsurprisingly, stayed much the same as the last time I’d been here. A grand desk, covered in documents, faced a wall with a window above it. Many others filled the wall’s circle, all with colored panes to filter the moonlight, and in one pseudo-corner, a four-poster bed took up far too much of the floor. The room’s main feature, however, was a fireplace, surrounded by a stone mantle, and the scattering of armchairs in front of it.

Raimie was slumped in one of these, just… staring off into space. Unmoving. And my heart sank on seeing it.

When I cleared my throat, Raimie jumped, spinning toward me. He’d halfway raised his hands before seeing me, but once he recognized my presence, those got dropped, replaced by a clearly false smile.

“Oh, Rhy! Good to see you,” he said. “Did you catch Nessaira?”

Ok. I had two choices here. I could comment on what I’d seen, probably making my friend uncomfortable in the process, or I could ignore it, trusting him to tell me if he needed to talk.

That was an easy choice to make. Raimie had always been consistent when it came to asking for my help, once he was ready for it.

So, I smiled and said.

“I did. A soldier’s bringing her to the tower as we speak.”

Raimie’s shaky smile turned mischievous, which was good to see even as I silently groaned about what was surely coming.

“You couldn’t do that yourself?” he said. “I’m surprised! You’ve always seemed so self-sufficient.”

Rolling my eyes, I headed for the desk, picking at the paper on it.

“Usually, I would have handled it by myself, but she had a lot of Corruption in her body,” I said. “And you should know how much that dark energy affects me.”

“Right… sorry.”

Glancing back at Raimie, I winced to see him staring at his lap with his teeth caught in his teeth. Even months after learning about it, he got antsy when I talked about the negative consequences of my status as the Champion of Ele, and I hated that. I didn’t like making him uncomfortable.

“So, have you looked through these yet?” I said, lifting a piece of paper overhead. “Any useful information here?”

With a sigh, Raimie shook himself.

“Not that I saw,” he said. “But then, most of it’s coded, and I don’t know how to break through that.”

“Huh.”

Making a face, I replaced the sheet of paper.

“That makes sense. Enforcers have always been secretive,” I said. “I’ll take a look at this mess later, if I have time. Hopefully, though, we can get what we need from Nessaira.”

“Right. Her.”

Leaning on his knees, Raimie started scrubbing his face, and I winced. What had I been thinking, bringing her up so quickly? She was unlikely to give us any information without a thorough interrogation, and that… wouldn’t be pleasant.

Was it something that Raimie could handle right now?

Probably not.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll take care of her.”

Slowly, Raimie lifted his face until he was peeking over his fingers.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked.

Shrugging, I said, “Sure. It won’t be a problem.”

I strode to my friend, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Besides, you look like you need some rest,” I said. “Get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll bring you a report on what I discover in the morning.”

Gods, Raimie had never looked so skeptical around me before, but after a pause, one where he seemed to be evaluating me… or maybe listening to something unheard, he nodded.

“Ok,” he said. “Thanks, Rhy.”

“No problem,” I said, squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

But then, I left him alone. If I was going to do something so unpleasant, I should get it over with.

Right?

Getting this room ready for an interrogation had taken me a while. In fact, if there had been a window in here, I might have seen the first blush of dawn through it.

This delay had had little to do with the actual preparations needed. Arranging instruments on a table and securing a woman to a chair didn’t take much time, but for some reason, I’d found all of it difficult. Choosing which tools I’d use had seemed impossible, stalling me for far too long, and while working on knots, I’d constantly fought to keep my eyes off of Nessaira’s face.

And I didn’t know where this struggle had come from. In my many years and cycles of life, I’d interrogated my fair share of people, including those as thoroughly ensnared by Daevetch as this woman, and it had never been a problem before.

So, why was I standing here, staring at Nessaira and unable to begin?

“This is pathetic,” I said.

Behind me, Creation snorted, probably leaning against a wall with their arms crossed. I could imagine them shaking their head or rolling their eyes, and the summoned image was… annoying. It gave me the motivation I needed to reach for the Ele in Nessaira and tear it out.

She roused with a snort. Rapidly blinking, she took in her surroundings before recoiling into her chair.

“I’ll never give you what you want,” she hissed.

The same thing every interrogation victim claimed. How I’d love to meet one person who'd share the information I needed before I had to force it out of them.

“Whatever you say,” I said before rubbing my eyes.

I truly didn’t want to do this today. Why was that?

“Come on, coward,” Nessaira said. “Do your worst.”

She was right. It was better if I just started.

Dropping my hands to my sides, I said, “Remember. This can stop whenever you’re ready.”

I was halfway through breaking the fingers of Nessaira’s left hand when her howling scream trailed off into a… moan. What in the…?

Panting, she lifted hungry eyes to me.

“Again,” she breathed. “Please.”

And I froze.

Really, I should have expected this. Sometimes, Daevetch warped certain people’s already rare, if perfectly natural, appreciation of pain into something else entirely, and it seemed Nessaira had fallen into that category.

In my past experience with people like her, milking valid information from them had been difficult, to say the least, but I’d always prevailed. Stomaching the horrors that the process had forced from me had never been a problem.

Until today. Today, I considered what I must do to this woman, and my typical resistances to it, built to shore up my coming collapse, failed. My hands started trembling while my lips twitched.

For the love of the gods, why was this a problem today?

It didn’t matter why. I looked upon this woman, eager to accept the torment I’d pile on her, and my stomach heaved. Slapping a hand to my mouth, I raced out of the room, closing my ears to the laughter that chased me.

In the hallway, I crouched with my back to the wall and rocked in place. What was happening? Why-?

“Are you ok?’

At the sound of that voice, whatever realization had been lurking, just out of awareness, got shoved to the side, and I leapt to my feet, spinning toward Raimie. Thank the gods, he was alone with no Oswin in sight. I’d rather not give that spy more ammunition to use against me.

“I… yes,” I said. “Yes, I’m fine.”

And I was, although the conundrum that I’d left in a nearby room still made me cringe.

For an interminably long time, Raimie stared at me before sighing.

“Having trouble with Nessaira?” he asked. “Why did you volunteer to handle her if it was going to be such a problem?”

For a moment, I considered lying to my friend. Doing so would certainly be easier, but when it came to him, the truth had always served me better in the past.

So, I might wince, but I said.

“What can I say? Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“I see,” Raimie said.

Cocking his head, he narrowed his eyes at the door beside me, and I wondered what he was thinking. Had what he’d seen shaken his confidence in me? Did he doubt my claim of being Ele’s Champion?

If he did, I wouldn’t blame him.

“Why don’t I give it a try?” he asked. “I probably won’t get anywhere, but it couldn’t hurt, right?”

Oh… he didn’t know what he was asking for. Plus, I’d volunteered for this task specifically because I didn’t think he could handle it.

“I don’t know…” I drawled, stalling for time.

Because I’d never known how to change my friend’s mind once he’d decided to do something.

“Come on, Rhy,” Raimie said. “It needs doing, yes?”

“Well… yes. We need to know what she knows,” I said, “but-”

“Then, let me try.”

As he brushed past me, Raimie smirked.

“I promise I won’t do something I’ll regret.”

Didn’t he know? Whatever he did in that room, he’d regret it.

But he turned through the doorway, and I’d lost my chance at convincing him to stop. Slumping against a wall, I hung my head, preparing for what would come. I was so focused on this that when Raimie stuck his head back into the hallway, it made me jump.

“Stay there, will you?” he said. “If I need help…”

Trailing off, he chewed on his lip, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

“Thanks!”

Raimie popped back into the room, and relaxing, I slid to the floor. Whatever my friend needed from me in the next hour, I’d be here for him.

Chapter 5: Inklings of Past Trouble

Raimie

 

Rhylix looked ready to leave.

With his hand on my shoulder, he said, “I’ll bring you a report on what I discover in the morning.”

But I didn’t know if I should let him go. Despite what he might think, I knew what he meant to do tonight. Nessaira wouldn’t willingly explain the inner workings of her master’s kingdom to him. He’d have to force it from her.

Which would mean torture. I didn’t know if that was how Rhylix phrased it to himself, but that was what it would be: making another person suffer until her will broke.

I didn’t know if I could let that happen, let alone approve of my friend taking the task on.

We need that inside information, heart of my heart. In our current venture, timing is everything. You know that, Nylion said. And you certainly cannot and should not do this thing. After closing a tear and killing so many Kiraak, you are worn thin. I can tell. Please, do not stress yourself more than you must, especially when someone has volunteered to help you. If anyone can assume such a horrible responsibility with little harm done to him, it is Rhylix.

Much as I hated to admit it, Nylion was right. I considered what he’d said, especially his review of our evening, and my heart…

Gods, something awful was stirring there. I’d felt it since encountering Nessaira at Da’kul’s gate, and with every passing hour, it had gotten stronger. I didn’t want my friend to be here when it broke through the glass separating it from me.

So, I said, “Ok. Thanks, Rhy.”

And he squeezed me.

“No problem. I’ll see you later.”

I watched him disappear down the stairs with a heavy heart. Gods, what had I done? What had I asked of my friend?

What was needed, Nylion whispered.

But I barely heard him. Hunching on myself, I hugged my elbows and slowly breathed out, fighting to stay numb. Whatever this was, this internal battle raging beneath the surface, I couldn’t indulge in it.

I needed to get some sleep while I could because soon, Gistrick would arrive with his Zrelnach, set to accept control of this fort. When he arrived, I needed to be ready for him. Da’kul must be secured and an initial survey of its supplies completed. I needed to make sure all of this happened smoothly.

But everything that I was struggling to ignore refused to be denied. I was frozen in place, continually shoving an understanding of what I was rejecting away, but it kept creeping back into my awareness. It wouldn’t leave me alone.

So, eventually, I stopped struggling against it. I let it come, and it rushed to the forefront.

The next thing I knew, I was huddled against the mantle with my back to the crease it made with the wall. With my arms thrown over my head, I was rocking in place and…

What was going on? Why- why was I…?

Everything was fine. I felt nothing, so why…?

But the more I considered these questions or tried to stop what was happening, the further away it all felt. From a distant place, I watched my body shake, but I couldn’t focus on it.

The only thing that held my attention was the sound of a woman screaming outside. She was roaring such unkind things at an unfortunate being, although I wasn’t sure how I knew that. I couldn’t make out her words, just her caustic voice as it boomed around me, and I wanted it to-

“Stop! Please, stop. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be bad. Please… please, stop. I- I’m sorry. Sorry. Pleeease…”

Was that… my voice? Gods, why did I sound so young? Why…? What…?

I couldn’t… think. Just… gibbering… in my-

“RAIMIE!” Nylion shouted.

From my far away perch, I watched him flickering in the air, kneeling in front of me with the most pained expression on his bruised face, and when he noticed me looking at him, he slumped, if only slightly.

Lightly, he touched my rocking form.

“It is ok,” he said. “Remember where we are. This is Da’kul, in Auden. We are far away from home and far off of the ground. Nothing bad can get us up here. We are alone, right? No one can hurt us…”

He kept repeating those reassurances, and with each one, I slid further into my body until I was slotted back into place. I saw the room at the top of the tower around me. I heard the crackle of flames in the fireplace. I felt the rough stone at my back and my still-moving lips, even as I clamped them together.

And I was so tired.

Drooping, I barely stopped myself from faceplanting.

“What-?”

Wincing, I licked my dry lips.

“What was that?”

I… am not sure.

Nylion had disappeared, which… had I just physically seen him? Gods. I was hallucinating on top of everything else.

“I’m losing my mind,” I said. “Or maybe that happened a while ago.”

After all, I’d been talking to an imaginary person in my head for as long as I could remember.

No. That wasn’t fair. Nylion was very real.

“Are you ok?” I whispered.

Maybe if I was quiet, it would negate how loud I’d been a moment ago.

I am fine, Nylion said. You should lie down before you collapse, heart of my heart.

Oh, fuck. I was about to fall over.

Gingerly, I curled up on the floor, enjoying the warmth of its typical stone.

It does feel good, does it not? Nylion said. Close your eyes, Raimie. I will keep watch for now. We are safe.

“But!”

What had happened…

Close your eyes.

Grumbling under my breath, I did as I’d been told, and as if waiting for that moment, sleep dragged me under.

I was at the bottom of a well again. Struggling to swim again. Cursing my broken arm again.

But this time, I was holding Nylion above the water’s surface… or I thought it was him. He was lighter than I’d expected. Smaller. More… delicate.

Regardless, I couldn’t focus on getting us out of the well, not with him screaming in my ear.

“It’s not right! It’s not right! It’s not-!”

Something thumped to the ground nearby, and snarling, I leapt to my feet, pulling Daevetch to my hands. Where was the threat? I’d eliminate it, keep us safe. So, where-?

At the head of the stairs, Oswin had frozen in the middle of climbing the last of them, and with a jolt running through me, I snapped my hands down.

As heat rose in my cheeks, I said, “Oswin. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you. I fell asleep…”

Waving at the floor, I trailed off, realizing how silly sleeping there instead of the room’s perfectly good bed must make me look, but Oswin didn’t say a word about it.

Climbing the rest of the way into the room, he said, “Well, I certainly didn’t mean to disturb your rest, sir. You’ll have to forgive me for the noise. I’m a bit tired myself, but then, that’s what happens when you spend hours searching for the charge you’re supposed to be guarding.”

Right. I’d forgotten how irritated he’d been with me for insisting on infiltrating Da’kul with only Rhylix at my side.

“You’ve found me now,” I said, shrugging with an awkward smile. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Striding to me, Oswin looked down at where I’d been lying.

“If I may, sir, why were you on the ground?

“I-”

Shit. How should I answer that? I wouldn’t tell him how I’d ended up there. Not only was I unclear about what had happened, but I knew how absolutely insane it would seem to him.

“I got cold,” I said. “Moved closer to the fire and fell asleep.”

“Huh,” Oswin said before nodding. “Makes sense.”

Thank the gods. He’d accepted that bullshit excuse.

As if nothing strange had happened, Oswin clasped his hands behind his back, launching straight into business.

“If you have the time, I’d like to introduce you to a few people,” he said. “You’ve actually met them once before, but that meeting was brief, and they’ve been busy with work in the months since. This is the first time they’ve been gathered in one place since the battle on the beach.”

Was I capable of meeting new people right now? I was still rattled and if possible, even more exhausted than I’d been before falling asleep.

I didn’t have a viable excuse for getting out of this, though, not when these introductions would likely be quick.

“I have the time,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “Bring them on.”

Grinning, Oswin glanced over his shoulder.

“You heard the man,” he called. “Come on up.”

Chapter 6: The King's Hand

Raimie

 

At Oswin’s prompting, four people joined us at the tower’s top, and Oswin was right. I did know them, if only nominally.

As they entered, each of them quickly scanned the room, but while the woman and the… small man or perhaps teenager squealed on seeing the bed, running to jump on it, the tallest of them stalked to a window, looking out of it. The burly one headed for the desk. 

While he started rifling through the pages on it, I did my best not to gawk.

Clearing my throat, I said, “So, you’re finally getting around to introducing your friends?’

Because the last time I’d seen these people, I’d never learned their names, preoccupied as I’d been at the time. I’d been worried about how they’d react to the revelation of my primeancy.

“Oh, give him a break, most kingly one,” said the small man on the bed. “We’ve been busy setting up your spy network since then.”

Bristling, Oswin said, “Little! Mind yourself. No matter how much you like to forget it, respect is part of your job.”

While the small man made a face, mouthing silent words behind Oswin’s back, the older man turned to me.

“And yes. Introductions are in order,” he said. “The mouthy brat goes by Little, as you may have noticed. He’s our expert in infiltration, wriggling into any and all sorts of problem areas that we might encounter.”

Smirking, Little tossed his hand in a wave, and at that, I fought to keep my lips flat. I liked him already.

“Beside him is Ring,” Oswin continued. “She excels at persuasion, dropping the right words into the right ears at the right time.”

The pretty red-head at Little’s side flowed off of the bed, flourishing a bow once she was on her feet.

“A pleasure to meet you formally, sir,” she said.

When she sprang upright to hop on the bed, I snorted to suppress a laugh. I knew this woman could have oozed desire at me if she’d wanted to. It was found in her bearing and confidence, and I was so grateful that she hadn’t. I wasn’t sure how she’d known the best way to act around me, but that didn’t matter. With a single greeting, she’d made interacting with her ten times easier.

“Likewise,” I said.

Turning to the other two men, Oswin gestured at the burly one.

“That’s Thumb,” he said. “He’s our brawler and code breaker. Pretty decent with picking locks too.”

Never looking away from what he was reading, Thumb mumbled something unintelligible, which was… interesting.

“Seems intense,” I said.

“Mm,” Oswin helpfully replied. “In the corner, we have Pointer. He specializes in the less savory parts of our work, but that’s all I can share for now. Out of all of us, he’s the most private.”

Still at the window, Pointer absently said, “I heard that.”

His voice made me shiver. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with it, but it had sounded ruined, in a way. When Oswin merely laughed at what he’d said, however, I was forced to join him.

“And last but not least is me,” he said with a deep bow. “I fill the position of spymaster and Middle, which is the only name you should have known me by. Unfortunately, our circumstances didn’t allow me to maintain my anonymity.”

While he straightened, I cocked my head.

“Middle…” I said. “I know that you were once the Middle of Queen Kaedesa’s Hand, which means you were perfectly capable of maintaining your anonymity, if it’s what you really wanted.”

Behind Oswin, Pointer snorted, curling on himself.

“He’s got you there,” he rasped.

Oswin merely rolled his eyes, so I continued.

“But what are you the Middle of now? Unless…”

Glancing over the five strangers around me, I frowned.

“Unless these people are supposed to be a Hand?” I said. “That would make sense, what with the names.”

With a tongue click, Oswin shook his head, lifting his eyes to the sky.

“Yes, sir. We’re a Hand,” he said. “Yours, in fact.”

“But… why would I need a Hand?”

The words were out of my mouth before I could consider them, and on hearing them, I winced.

“Please, don’t say a word. I know how silly that question was,” I said.

“Well. I’m glad someone pointed that out,” Little said.

From beside him, Ring sat up so she could smack him upside the head.

“Respect, Little,” she hissed.

Chuckling, I said, “I don’t mind. It was a silly question.”

If an understandable one as well. I’d only accepted this new position a few months ago, and transitioning one’s viewpoint from that of a peasant to a leader of men would take anyone a while.

“So… what exactly does a Hand do?” I asked. “I know you’re spies and usually the cream of the crop at that, but what does spying usually involve?”

With a giggle, Ring bounced to the bed’s edge.

“Lots of things!” she said. “For now, we’ll probably scout for you, supporting the greater spy network that we’ve established, but when we served Queen Kaedesa, we kept tabs on Ada’ir’s criminal element, eliminated subversives before they could become dangerous, and occasionally, countered members of other kingdoms’ Hands, among other things. For the most part, though, you won’t have to think about the dark matters we handle. That’s not the king’s job.”

She’d given me a lot of useful information. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fully process it as I was stuck on one particular portion.

“Served Queen Kaedesa?” I repeated with a raised eyebrow.

Had anyone else heard panic in my voice there? Gods, please say they hadn’t.

Nodding, Oswin said, “Certainly. Before leaving Ada’ir, the five of us were Queen Kaedesa’s Hand. Now, we’re yours.”

For a moment, all I could do was blink at him and the others, and when I found my voice, I had to take a moment to clear it.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” I said, “but… just… what? That’s… oh, hell.”

Clutching my head, I sank into a chair.

“So, you’re telling me that not only have I stolen a large part of a neighboring kingdom’s army, along with its commander, but also its queen’s Hand?” I said. “How? And Alouin above… she’s going to kill me. For an insult like this, that utterly terrifying woman would definitely cross the Narrow Sea, just to murder my ass.”

…Which would absolutely help with this ridiculous quest of freeing Auden.

Please, heart of my heart. Do not panic, Nylion said. From what I have seen of her-

“Yeah… no. Kaedesa won’t do that,” Little drawled.

Groaning, he propped himself up on his elbows.

“She’s far too paranoid and prepared for the loss of something like her Hand to affect her. In fact, I’d be shocked if she hasn’t already replaced us,” he said. “Plus, she likes you, for some incomprehensible reason. You amuse her, which… lucky you. You’ll have to mess up in a direct and personal manner to get on her bad side.”

“Accurate,” Pointer said by the window.

The other three grunted or nodded their agreement, which made me relax, if only slightly. If anyone could know Queen Kaedesa’s mind, it would be people who’d served as her top spies.

That still left me with a question, though.

“All right, then. Say you’re right. Why should I trust you?” I said. “You’ve already switched your loyalty once. Who says you wouldn’t do it again?”

Stiffening, Oswin said, “I told you, sir. I’ve only ever been loyal to you, not Ada’ir’s queen. In my youth, I found myself in a position that might be beneficial to you, so as the spymaster of Kaedesa’s Hand, I began recruiting for you, replacing its old members with people loyal to you. Technically, no one here has betrayed a former employer because we’ve only ever been yours.”

…But why had they, particularly Oswin, been loyal to me? Until recently, I’d lived a quiet life, never making waves.

So, had Oswin simply been loyal to the idea of Auden’s royal family, not me specifically? If he was a descendant of an Audish refugee, that would make sense.

And he’d given me no reason to suspect him of treachery. If anything, he’d been a huge help, and besides that, I liked the man, which was rare for me. I could trust him.

Right?

“I can accept that,” I said, “and I’m glad to have met all of you in a full capacity. Truly.”

With a warm smile, Ring said, “We’re glad for you to know us, sir.”

“Maybe some of us are,” Little said, rolling his eyes. “Can we get back to work now, Middle? Dragging that Overseer to the tower was enough of a delay, so sure, he may have had time to meet us, but I didn’t.”

Squeezing his eyes closed, Oswin sighed.

“Yes, Little. You may return to work,” he said.

“Awesome.”

With a grin, Little bounced off of the bed, and the other three were quick to follow, although unlike their youngest member, they offered some form of respect before doing so. Only once Oswin and I were alone again did I fully slump into my chair, exhausted beyond measure.

“Well. They’re interesting,” I said to no one.

“I’m glad they’ve pleased you,” Oswin said, “and I’ll ensure they swear their loyalty to you soon, much as you might hate that. In the meantime, can I help you in any way, sir? You seem a bit… overwhelmed.”

Gods, he’d hit the nail on the head with that observation, so much so that I had to look away.

Rapidly blinking, I said, “I’m fine. Just struggling with what to do next.”

Because there was so much to do, and I was so very new to this leading a resistance thing. Sure, we’d taken another base of operations and a defensible one at that, but what should I do with it? I’d been hoping to use the intelligence found here to plan our next steps, but considering how heavily encoded everything seemed to be, that hope had been unfulfilled.

Even still, having a backup base would be nice. Who knew if or when my people’s current refuge, Tiro, might become hostile to us once more? For the last two months, Tanwadur had daily threatened to throw us out of his city, and I wasn’t sure when that threat might become a reality.

So, it was good that we had a potential new home. From here, we could begin our true work. We could slowly free Auden’s many cities, defending them once they were ours, until such time as we could contest the capital.

But where to start? Over the winter, that had been the major question for me, and while I had a spy network, it was new and fragile enough that reports had been slow in the making.

Perhaps the Hand could pick up the slack while the rest of the network was getting more established. With their experience, it shouldn’t take them as long to get into the swing of things, compared to a slew of new spies at least.

And hopefully, Rhylix will soon bring us the information he has coerced from Nessaira, Nylion said.

Right. How had I forgotten about that?

I should check in with him before some new task came along to distract me.

Blinking, I refocused on my surroundings and smiled on seeing Oswin, patiently waiting.

“Let’s see how Rhy’s interrogation is going, shall we?” I said.

Turning toward the stairs, I almost missed Oswin’s subtle grimace, but it had been there in time for me to see it.

I wasn’t sure why the spy didn’t like my friend, although it couldn’t be because Rhylix was Eselan or a primeancer. Oswin had already established that he wasn’t constrained by society’s typical hatred of primeancers, and when around the Zrelnach, he was nothing but polite and respectful. Given that, it seemed safe to say that he didn’t hold some strange prejudice against Rhylix.

But something about my friend still rankled him. That much was clear, and it bothered me that I didn’t know why that was.

I spent most of the walk down the tower considering this question, halfway tempted to just ask the spy. In the end, though, doing that didn’t seem wise. I needed to stay on Oswin’s good side, and while I doubted mentioning this issue would cause a problem between us, I’d rather avoid difficult conversations with him, at least until his side of this resistance was more stable.

So, we descended into the lower floors of the tower in silence.

Chapter 7: Is Torture Ever Acceptable?

Raimie

Eventually, the two of us found the tower’s cell block, and spying Rhylix up ahead, I motioned for Oswin to stay back. For once, he didn’t protest this, probably because he had clear lines of sight down the hallway.

I meandered toward my friend, but once I’d gotten closer, I frowned, hastening my pace. Rocking in place, Rhylix was huddled on himself, and I could barely make out what he was saying.

“-hate it! Can’t do this anymore. Why do I keep having to be the bad guy?”

Shit. I’d known asking him to do the interrogation was a bad idea.

I slowed down, speaking as softly as I could.

“Rhy? Are you ok?”

For a breath, Rhylix tensed into a stiff statue, but then, he lurched to his feet, jerking his head across the hallway, and I froze.  Fortunately, the panic I’d spotted in him was quickly buried, and he cleared his throat.

“I…” he said, rapidly blinking. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

He is lying, both to us and himself, Nylion said.

I know, I replied.

But I didn’t know what to do about it. Calling him out didn’t seem like a good idea, but neither did leaving him here. Clearly, he couldn’t finish this interrogation right now.

“Having trouble with Nessaira?” I said. “Why did you volunteer to handle her if it was going to be such a problem?”

As Rhylix winced, Nylion said, Heart of my heart, please say you are not considering what I think you are.

I couldn’t answer him honestly, so I held my tongue.

“What can I say?” Rhylix said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

Clearly.

“I see,” I said.

Do you, really? Nylion said. Please. We cannot take this task on for him. I know you want to, but… please, Raimie. It would not be wise. Let us wait-

Can we afford to do that? I said. As you’ve said multiple times, we need this information, and we need it now. Besides, if Rhy can’t do this, who else would we ask? I was already uncomfortable enough with giving him this task. I couldn’t do it to another person.

Raimie, I am begging you-

“Why don’t I give it a try?” I said over Nylion.

I couldn’t let him continue with that thought. If he did, I’d be stuck here for who knew how long, trying to reconcile his feelings with our required task.

“I probably won’t get anywhere, but it couldn’t hurt, right?” I made myself say.

And ignored the panic that Nylion was spilling forth.

Rhylix seemed almost as repulsed by the idea as my other half.

“I don’t know…” he said.

Gods, why were these two being so resistant with this? Couldn’t they see it was the only way?

“Come on, Rhy. It needs doing, yes?” I said, half to him and half to Nylion.

But- my other half started.

“Well… yes,” Rhylix said, interrupting him. “We need to know what she knows, but-”

Oh. my. gods.

“Then, let me try,” I said.

Pushing past Rhylix, I forced myself to smile at him.

“I promise I won’t do something I’ll regret.”

Or I hoped I wouldn’t.

After all, I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that nothing pleasant was waiting for me in Nessaira’s cell, but I was hoping its necessity would erase my guilt over it.

That is naïve, Nylion whispered.

But he’d sounded so resigned.

You are my everything, Raimie, but sometimes, you are too optimistic for our own good.

I couldn’t identify what had pulsed from him with those words, but it made me pause in the cell’s threshold, not really seeing what it contained. Something took hold of my body, and almost without my consent, it twitched backward enough for me to poke my head back into the hallway.

Seeking out Rhylix, I said, “Stay there, would you? If I need help…”

Ha. Given how I’d found him, how could Rhylix help me with this?

But he smiled and said, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And I relaxed.

“Thanks!” I said.

Now, it was time to do something I’d rather never try my hand at.

When I turned back into the room, though, I stopped short, nailed in place by what I saw. Nessaira was slouched in a chair, tied to it by the arms and legs. Her fingers had obviously been broken, dangling as they were from her hands at odd angles, and- and some of her fingernails were gone. Her hair was disheveled and grimy and her face… gods.

And yet, when she saw I’d placed my attention on her, she grinned, displaying her bloodied teeth and all.

“Aww… has the cute Eselan whelp sent his lapdog to finish the job?” she said. “Here’s hoping you can do a better job than him.”

What… what had Rhylix done? Hell. What would I have to do?

My hands were shaking as I moved into the room, and when I reached the table beside Nessaira with a host of tools on top of it, I flexed my fingers before slowly playing them over sharp edges and pincers and…

Oh, gods.

I couldn’t do this.

But I had to. Rhylix certainly couldn’t, and we needed… something from this. Right? Nessaira knew something we needed.

Where was this fog in my head coming from?

Snorting, Nessaira said, “You’ll be as much of a disappointment as him, won’t you?”

Ok. I needed to slow down. I needed to- to think.

Gods… her face… so many bruises.

I looked at that, and suddenly, I felt like I was gasping for air, much as I wasn’t doing that. Why did her face…?

Nylion. He looked like her.

Didn’t he?

“Oh, hell. Nyl… where are you?” I thought I said.

Gods, why was I having such a hard time with something as simple as thinking? That should be instinctive, right? I shouldn’t be fighting off a need to run and a head full of fog and her face-

Heart of my heart, you cannot do this, came a whisper through my mind. I know it is hard, but you need to let go now. Just… let go. Let me out, like we have done before, and I will keep you safe.

I didn’t know what was going on, but right now, I was too muddled to figure it out.

So, I did as the voice had said. I released control of the one thing I desperately clung to and faded into the background.

Slowly. Gradually. Gone.

Rapidly blinking, Nylion took a deep breath, and despite what a bad idea it was, he roughly shook his head. Doing that might indicate distress to this torture session’s victim, but he needed it if he was to clear out this all-consuming fog. If he didn’t, Raimie’s influence might stick around for far too long.

This was what happened every time they unintentionally switched places or rather, every time Raimie unwillingly lost control. Every time something unpleasant drew Nylion to the surface.

But he’d known this would happen as soon as Raimie had gotten this ridiculous idea in his thick head. Gods, much as Nylion would do anything for his other half, sometimes his stubbornness frustrated him.

“Problem?” said the victim with a laugh in her voice. “You know… I get it if you can’t hurt me. Not many people are strong enough-”

Huffing, Nylion backhanded her.

“Do shut up,” he said. “I am trying to think.”

It had been a while since he’d had to do something like this, and while his lessons on torture remained fresh in his mind, even after being abandoned for so long, he still needed a moment to choose which of them to use. There were so many options and he wasn’t sure which would work best.

It didn’t help that Nylion was still quite disoriented from everything that had happened earlier today.

When Raimie had closed the tear here… gods, it had hurt just as much as the last time, and he still hadn’t figured out why that was or why the dissonance it had caused had yet to fade.

Add to that Raimie’s near breakdown in the tower’s top, and one had an overworked half of a whole. It had been ages since something had so strongly tested the walls between Raimie and Nylion, years since he’d had to battle his own distress while also calming the heart of his heart down. Years since their collective truth had nearly risen above the many lies told to hide it, both by themselves and others.

Somehow, he’d won against this bout, beating memories back below the surface, but it had been a close call. Given the direction Raimie’s life was currently taking them, Nylion knew he’d have to make several repeat performances of this in the coming days, and he wasn’t sure if he could keep it up for long enough.

Yes, he wanted Raimie to partially breach the walls between them, enough to learn some of their truths, but that shouldn’t happen until he was good and ready, which he wasn’t now. Even beyond that, there were some truths that Nylion never intended to share with his other half.

Those things should always remain buried.

None of this would help Nylion with his current purpose, though, so he shook his head again, pushing it all to the side. With difficulty, he focused on the real world.

Nessaira had kept silent, thankfully, but she was starting to look restless and bored again. So, Nylion took a knife from a nearby table, twirling it between his fingers, and considered where to begin.

Thank the gods that this victim was a woman. Nylion didn’t have anything against such people. He knew, logically, that some of them were good and kind, but his personal experience with them had been anything but that. Said experience made it easier to rest his knife’s edge against his victim’s skin and lay open a first cut.

She had an unusual reaction to this, fluttering her eyes closed with a sigh, but Nylion wasn’t concerned by that. He was too occupied by what he should ask her to care.

Raimie and Rhylix would probably want him to ask logistical questions, like which Enforcers were currently running Auden and where enemy troops had been quartered, but Nylion thought other topics were of greater concern to their war effort. Topics that the other two might never have considered, fully wrapped in Ele as they were.

So, he said, “Tell me how the Kiraak are made.”

Those beings had fascinated Nylion since Raimie had first laid eyes on one. While his other half had fought them during the beach battle, he’d marveled at how little those blank-vined people had paid attention to the wounds they acquired. It had been like they could fully ignore pain, and that, Nylion was interested in. He assumed it had something to do with the Daevetch that ran rampant in their bodies, and if so, perhaps he and Raimie could take the Kiraak’s near-invincibility for themselves.

Burbling laughter interrupted Nylion’s thoughts, and he fought to keep from scowling as the victim got control of herself. At the moment, only a blank face would do.

Still hiccupping on giggles, Nessaira said, “Is that all you’ve got, little one? If you want me to risk betraying my Dark Lord, especially about something sensitive like that, you’ll have to make it worth my while.”

She hungrily leered at Nylion, and he shuddered despite himself. Gods, he hated expressions like that.

How was he going to break this woman? If she’d had such an atypical response to a relatively tame torture technique, then she’d probably put up greater resistance than most. So, how…?

Nylion knew of only one other person who might claim such stubbornness, one man who might show as much indifference to pain, and in the past, only one thing had easily surmounted the heart of his heart’s defenses against it.

Sighing, Nylion rubbed his forehead, releasing his typically enforced ignorance of the constant shadow at his side.

“All right, Chaos,” he said. “You know what I want. How do I do it?”

Wincing, Chaos said, “Are you sure this is a good idea? Raimie wouldn’t approve.”

Which was exactly the point.

“At the moment, what Raimie would or would not want does not matter,” Nylion said. “He is not here right now. I am, and it is my duty to handle all of the dark things that he should never have to conceive of. So, tell me what I need to know, Chaos, or so help me, I may end up doing something much worse than what I already have planned.”

He truly hoped Chaos would go along with the plan for once. That other thing he’d threatened? It would require quite a lot of Daevetch use, and with how much of it Raimie had been using lately, Nylion wasn’t sure how much more this body and brain could take without experiencing adverse side effects.

Squeezing their eyes closed, Chaos said, “Direct my whole into the cut on your victim’s cheek. Then, send it through her body to the squishy mass at the base of her skull.”

Nylion obliged, ignoring his victim’s confused protestations, before raising an eyebrow at Chaos.

“Activate the pain node that you’ll find there,” the splinter said. “It’s that simple.”

So it was.

For as long as he could stand it, Nylion listened to his victim scream before releasing his hold on her. Once he had, Nessaira slumped in her bonds, panting, but when she lifted her eyes to him, they were shining.

“A Vice?” she purred. “Not only a rogue Daevetch primeancer, but one who can employ that delightful torture. Oh, how I’ve missed-”

With his stomach twisting into a knot, Nylion used his Vice on the victim to shut her up. Hell, the tone of her voice. It had made him want to throw up.

“Tell me what I want to know,” he snapped.

When he released her, his victim licked her lips.

“Certainly,” she said. “Keep hurting me like that, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Just!”

Pinching his nose, Nylion rubbed one of his temples.

“Just tell me about the Kiraak for now,” he said.

“Well, for starters, that process begins in the Birthing Grounds. This is where, as the name implies, the Kiraak are born,” Nessaira said. “My Dark Lord attaches Corruption, his flavor of Daevetch, to key points in each prisoner from a Harvested population, after which he gives them to his Enforcers. Those lieutenants add the last attachment point-”

“Hang on,” Nylion interrupted, lifting a hand. “Are you saying that Doldimar’s entire, near-undefeatable army is made up of people controlled by Daevetch alone?”

With a frown, Nessaira said, “It’s Corruption, actually, but besides that… yes.”

She shrugged, and for a moment, Nylion could only stare at her.

Had- had Doldimar never considered that a Daevetch primeancer, free of his influence, might challenge him for his power?

“Huh,” he said. “Maybe our enemy is not as smart as we thought.”

Bristling, Nessaira made to speak, but Nylion was too caught on an idea to listen.

Forcing her mouth closed, he said, “If Kiraak are made from Corruption, then what would happen if I removed it?”

Blood drained from Nessaira’s face at the rate of Nylion’s lifted hand. He reached for every trace of Daevetch in her body and with a thought, called it to him.

This, of course, removed the Vice he’d placed on her as well, so as a tangled web of dark energy converged on Nylion from her cut, he was forced to listen to her desperate shrieks, consumed with singular conviction.

He’d caused this pain. Only him.

As the last of Daevetch’s traces flowed out of Nessaira, she limply slumped in her chair, nearly knocking it over, and biting his lip, Nylion reached to check her pulse, hoping she was still alive. He didn’t need another death on his conscience.

Before he could touch her, however, a commotion of scuffling shoes and slapping footsteps jerked him toward the doorway. Almost, he sprinted through it, ready to throw a Daevetch bolt at the noise’s source, before remembering that Rhylix had probably made it.

Wait. Rhylix had been here the whole time, meaning he’d heard everything that had happened here.

Including everything Nylion had said.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered to no one.

What Rhylix had heard… he could extrapolate so many things from it, things he couldn’t know. No one could know that Raimie was actually Raimie and Nylion, not when the last time…

Gritting his teeth, Nylion sprinted out of the cell, leaving an unconscious woman behind.

Chapter 8: Expected Hatred

Rhylix

 

As I ran out of the tower, the scene I’d left behind kept playing out in my mind, mostly in sound.

“Nyl, where are you?” Raimie dazedly said.

A barely audible whine filled the room, but by the time I’d leaned through the doorway, it had stopped, and Raimie was roughly shaking his head. I relaxed, thinking everything was fine.

A few moments later, he said, “At the moment, what Raimie would or would not want does not matter. He is not here right now.”

And I froze, knowing I’d stumbled onto something important. Unfortunately, knowledge of it got pushed away when Nessaira started howling in pain. By the time she’d stopped, falling unconscious, black lines had faded from under her skin, and I ran from what that meant.

I was still running from it, but much as I might like it to, that strategy wasn’t working. So, I stopped short, completely out of breath, and considered what I’d seen.

Nessaira was an Overseer, a Kiraak who’d been afflicted for long enough that her blood lust no longer controlled her. Even beyond the events of the recent battle, I'd verified that fact when infiltrating this fort, months ago.

And yet, if I returned to her cell now, I wouldn’t find a trace of Daevetch on her.

Which meant she was no longer a Kiraak. Raimie had… cured her.

Gods, I’d be sick.

Forever ago, when I’d still had hope of breaking free from the cycle’s curse, I’d aspired to do what Raimie had accomplished. I’d desperately wanted a fix for the monsters Doldimar always created, had spent so many years looking for one, but as time had gone on, that desire had gradually faded. It had slowly retreated before my growing hopelessness until the cycle had come when I’d broken. During that one, Doldimar had been around for centuries before I’d shown up, much like in this cycle, and the things he’d done…

He'd nearly won that one, and after it had been over, I’d just… given up. For centuries upon centuries, countless cycles passing me by, I’d gone through the motions, unable to do much else until Raimie had given me hope again. My wish to help the Kiraak had died back then too, and until now, I hadn’t examined what my long-ago surrender to the inevitable might mean, both for the Kiraak and for myself.

How many of them had I killed, thinking nothing could save them? With what Raimie had done, how much blood now stained my hands, or- or… had it always been there, unseen by a man too oblivious to notice it?

Gods. I couldn’t consider that idea, couldn’t carry the weight of it. Not alone.

So, I scrambled for another problem to occupy my mind. Like… like…

Like, what had Raimie meant earlier, saying he ‘wasn’t around’? He’d been standing right there. Had the pressure of the task he’d undertaken made him fracture from himself, even if temporarily? I’d seen that happen often enough in times of war and other such horrors.

If so, what did that make the ‘Nyl’ he’d mentioned?

“You… oh, no. Eriadren, you should pay attention to your surroundings. Now.”

Creation? What on earth was the splinter doing-?

Sharp pain in my head jarred me out of my thoughts, and as I pitched forward, I tried to figure out what had hit me, as something obviously had. This question occupied me as I rolled onto my side, curling protectively around myself.

A harshly whispered voice poked through the haze of my pain.

“Remember. We can only do things that a fall off the wall could cover up.”

And even as another blow landed and another, I was silently sighing to myself because I knew what this was. I’d been anticipating it since first revealing myself as a primeancer.

That made it no less painful. As these judgmental assholes proceeded to beat me to death, I did my best to protect vital areas, wrapping my arms around my head and pulling my legs to my stomach. Logically, I knew I should just let them kill me. Dying and subsequently reviving would spare me a lot of time and pain.

But I couldn’t help fighting to survive.

When a kick to my kidneys had my body spasming open, I struggled to curl up again. When that attempt failed miserably and a foot connected with my groin, I tried to roll away from the blow, even with how hazy I’d already become.

At some point, there was a pause with frustrated voice saying something about how annoying it was that I wouldn’t lose consciousness—they could thank Ele’s persistent attempts to keep me in perfect health for that—but I couldn’t acknowledge that brief respite, save to use it to pinpoint my attackers. Once I had, I gathered Ele to me, ready to both shoot it at them and propel myself away.

I’d gotten halfway to doing that when a loud crunch filled my ears and mind. I had half a second to process the noise before an oscillating storm of pain and a dull ache radiated from my jaw. Cold air brushed against body parts that it should never touch, and my teeth loudly pulsed in their sockets.

Ah. They’d switched to using weapons, then. Great.

Another snap filled the air, followed by a fiery spark in my foot, and another and another and-

I lost any tenuous grip I’d had on Ele, cursing it all the while. Gods, I was going to die again, and because of the curse that primal energy had placed on me, it wouldn’t be quick. Of course.

I didn’t know where I’d found the energy to be angry about that.

As if to echo that whisper of emotion, someone familiarly welcome roared.

“That is not allowed!”

There was a whistle and a thump, and when I managed to crack an eye open, I was greeted by the sight of a strange man, sprawled on the ground with a clean hole bored through where his heart should be.

Rescue. Hopefully, it had come in time.

Two more bodies fell to the earth, and feet thudded toward me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” someone harshly whispered. “Raimie will kill me.”

My friend collapsed into the dirt between me and the man he- he’d killed—I hadn’t thought Raimie could even hurt someone in his new ‘family’—but instead of reaching for my broken body, like most people would, he clenched his hands in his lap, running his eyes over me.

“Where does it hurt worst?” he asked. “And- and may I touch you?”

Oh. He did want to help.

Why had I been certain for a moment that he wouldn’t?

Groaning, I started getting to my feet… or trying to. My first attempt only landed me flat on my face again.

“Don’t bother with that,” I panted. “Just… get me somewhere hidden. Please.”

No one could see what would soon happen to me. No one but Raimie.

As I pushed myself onto my elbows, my friend slowly offered me a hand, refusing to move until I’d taken it. Then, he hauled me upright, throwing my arm over his shoulders, and even with pain screaming through my mind, I noticed how he shuddered when our skin made contact.

What-?

“Where should I take you?” he asked.

Why was he asking me that? I could barely think, let alone-

“The tower,” I surprised myself by saying. “Hopefully, we can-”

-make it. That didn’t seem likely, not with how much Ele was already glowing under my skin. Those men might not have inflicted fatal damage on me, but with how many things Ele needed to heal and had already healed in my body, I didn’t- I didn’t know if…

“Hey, stay here, please,” my friend said. “It is difficult enough, dragging you along half-conscious. I do not think I can manage anything more.”

Right. Yes. I couldn’t think about what was happening in my body or the energy that Ele was sipping away…

Had to- had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Had to reach the tower—

Safety.

—before anyone came to investigate the commotion.

Was anyone coming? Or would I die, alone and uncared for, again?

“Rhylix,” my friend hissed. “Please. Gods, it is- it is too much for-”

My friend. He was helping. Or trying to. Bless him.

I didn’t think it would be enough.

As expected, we were within a couple dozen paces of the tower’s entrance when Ele’s healing process sapped the last spark of energy from my body, and I wilted. Grunting, my friend fought to support my body weight, but that was beyond him.

I watched from both my own eyes and a point above us as he lowered me to the ground. I noticed the full-blown panic in his gaze, how not there he seemed.

Consumed by his fear.

“It’s ok, Raimie,” I mumbled. “Will be back soon.”

And hopefully, no one else would be here to observe that.

To my distant surprise, I noted that my words hadn’t comforted my friend as I’d expected. With panic still running wild in him, he jerked his head up, glaring at me with his lips peeled from his teeth.

“I am not Raimie,” he growled.

Wha-? He wasn’t making-

“What’s going on?” a strange voice called.

Shit.

As my friend whirled away from me, I fought to stay in my body, desperate to keep my curse from discovery, but it didn’t matter how much I struggled. The world pulled away from me—

—and I was floating in the black. There were voices on every side, and it was all so familiar, and I’d just been somewhere safer and yet more dangerous than here. Which was it?

What happened now? Did I stay here? Did I move on? How did I both know and not know the answer to those questions? Why was this place so loud and—

—familiar?

Like where I was now.

Dazedly, I swayed in place, barely staying on my feet, and scanned a flat, green landscape with a blue sky overhead.

Alouin’s world. I'd made it.

Chapter 9: What Happens When You Die?

Rhylix

 

Slowly, I pieced together what had happened to me. I’d died—obviously—and slipped into that place full of only black, the space between realities. I always went there after death, if only for a heartbeat or an eternity. I could never tell which.

Compared to there, this green-and-blue place didn’t usually keep me for as long as it had today. I was typically here for a breath, sometimes gaining a glimpse of Alouin before getting shoved back into my body. Why was I lingering this time?

“Hello, Rhylix. Would you mind moving? You’re blocking my view of the sky.”

Speaking of which.

As I stepped to the side, I glanced down at Alouin, raising an eyebrow. He was sprawled comfortably across the grass with his hands folded on his stomach, which was… different.

“Shouldn’t our positions be reversed, what with me just dying?” I said before lowering my voice. “Not that you’d care.”

As expected Alouin had no reply for that, merely blinking at me with a sardonic grin, so I huffed and rested my hands on my hips.

“Any idea why I’m still here?” I asked

Alouin shrugged.

“The balance has shifted, perhaps irrevocably this time,” he said. “Some aspects of your Eternal War are sure to have changed as a result.”

…Greeeeeeat. Yet another complication in my already complicated life.

It would help if I knew what Alouin was talking about. What ‘balance’ was he referring to?

Glancing at me, Alouin snorted a laugh.

“Ships, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you. Yet again.”

Sighing, he closed his eyes before giving his body a shake and settling back into a relaxed position.

“And don’t worry. If I’m right—which I usually am—you’ll rejoin the living soon enough,” he said. “In the meantime, would you join me? I… could use the company.”

At that request, I hesitated. I might not hate Alouin as much as I had when he’d first forced me into this life, but our relationship still couldn’t be classified as good. Why would he ask someone like me for company?

What did it say about him that I was his only choice in the matter?

Ultimately, that was what had me sinking to the ground beside this god-like being. After a few heartbeats of watching him and his unfocused stare, I shifted in place.

“What’s got you so distracted?” I said. “I know I haven’t seen you much this cycle, but usually when I die, you give me all of your attention. Should I be jealous?”

Even as I voiced the idea, I laughed at it. Much as Alouin tended to help me along in my visits here after death, giving me hints and the like, I’d never enjoyed seeing him.

He didn’t react to what I’d said, though, continuing to vacantly stare instead, but after an agonizingly long wait, he pointed at the sky.

“I’m considering everything that represents,” he said.

After following the line his finger made to the sky, I winced. A pinpoint hole lay at the sky’s apex, containing a storm of illumination and darkness. In the midst of this, a humanoid figure was hanging from an unknown support, visibly twitching from even this far away, and the apparent source of his distress, the pinpoint’s storm of light and dark, funneled into him.

As always when viewing this, I recognized the hum, ever-present in this place, as the drawn-out and thready scream that it was, and half-unwillingly, I looked away once more, catching sight of Alouin’s rapt gaze as a result. Why did he find that horrifying image so captivating?

After another beat of quiet, he licked his lips.

“It’ll be my turn again soon,” he whispered. “I won’t survive this time.”

And I could only blink at him.

“What?” I said.

That seemed to break Alouin’s reverie. He slapped his cheeks a few times before sitting up.

“I shouldn’t burden you with that,” he said. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”

As he stood, I joined him, leaving me unable to pull away when he took my hands.

“There are some things you should know before then. A few warnings,” he said. “From this point on, I might seem different, Rhylix. At first, you might find me a little… unstable, but then, I’ll go cold. Be careful of yourself when that happens. I don’t know what my intentions for you will be after that. I don’t have that piece.”

At my uncomprehending stare, he made a face, releasing me.

“Trust me. I know that seems like babble right now. It’ll make sense eventually,” he said. “Now. Would you like me to speed along your trip to the living?’

When he lifted a hand, I nodded.

“Considering what I left behind, that would be helpful,” I said.

Maybe if I got back quickly enough, Raimie and I could pass my death off as something else, sweeping it under the rug.

And maybe I could also figure out why my friend had been acting so strangely tonight.

Resting his finger on my forehead, Alouin paused instead of shoving me away.

“I wish you luck on your journey, Rhylix,” he said before sadly smiling. “Goodbye.”

He pushed me backward, and as I fell, his words and face swirled in my mind until—

—I jolted into my body and went still.

Where was the danger? Were potential hostiles around me, or had Raimie gotten me somewhere private before the damage had been done?

When only silence greeted me for several heartbeats, I started breathing normally, slowly opening my eyes. Cautiously, I scanned what little of the room I could see from my prone position, and after seeing no one with me, I sat up. Clinging to the edge of my cot, I simply stared at my feet for a while, letting everything that had happened over the last few hours wash over me.

I’d died again, and yes, I should be used to this after countless experiences of it. Yes, it should perhaps be as nothing to me.

But this time had been different. This time, I’d died only a few hours after another death, and this time… this time, I’d been murdered.

I didn’t know why, but that made it feel so much worse, even if the circumstance had been expected. What was it about me that made others want to end my life so badly and so often? I knew some of that was a side effect of the life I led but the rest…

Was I really that distasteful to other people?

But then, I remembered Raimie and how hard he’d worked to save my life, or tried doing that at least. I didn’t care how strange he’d been acting both before and during those awful moments. He’d been there for me. I hadn’t been alone while Ele had wrung the last drop of life from me.

Isolation while dying was quite possibly the only experience worse than death, in my experience. Thank the gods it hadn’t happened this time.

Still. Where was Raimie? I’d like to know what had happened after I’d died.

Given, he wasn’t the only one who might answer my questions.

“Creation?” I softly said. “Are you there?”

“Of course.”

The splinter was standing beside the door, carefully watching me, and given how obvious their presence was, I wondered how I could have missed them.

“Do you know what happened?” I asked. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”

“Unfortunately, no,” Creation softly said.

When I shot an incredulous stare at them, they shifted in place.

“I know you died, but after that happened, I lost my anchor to this plane of existence,” they said. “I’m not sure what happened here for the time you were gone.”

Yes, that made sense. That was how it had always been.

But.

“You couldn’t have asked Raimie’s Order splinter for details?” I said.

Creation’s lips tightened.

“They had nothing to report,” they said.

“Nothing to… what’s that supposed to mean?”

But Creation refused to reply, and I knew I’d get nothing further from them about that.

Shaking my head, I said, “Fine. Do you at least know why things went the way they did this time? I spent much longer than usual in Alouin’s world.”

“That’s… a difficult question to answer,” Creation said.

And I narrowed my eyes at them. How had that been difficult?

Before I could ask that question, though, the room’s door cracked open, letting a voice spill through it—

“I’m telling you, sir. Nothing’s changed.”

—and I froze with all of me going stone cold. Someone was about to encounter a living, breathing me after a possible exposure to my dead body.

How many times had I been in this position before? And every time… every time…

“Well, that was obviously a failure,” Reive says with a grimace. “Still, how fortuitous for me. It’s good to know I’ll survive that type of poison once we reverse engineer you.”

He turns to his assistants.

“Let’s move on, shall we?”

Someone grabs me by the hair, and dazed as I am, I can’t fight back as they drag me to a nearby bucket and shove my head underwater.

Frozen in place, I watched as the door finished swinging open. In its entrance, Oswin stopped short with his mouth falling open, and when he dropped the apple he’d been holding, the sound of its roll across the floor was deafening to me.

Gods, I wanted to push myself away from him until my back had hit the wall, curling on myself once there, but I couldn’t move. I was stone.

Still, I made my lips move.

“Please,” I said. “Don’t hurt me.”

For some reason, this made Oswin blink at me instead of sneering, but I didn’t get long to ponder that. As if summoned by the sound of my voice, a source of safety came into view.

“Rhy! Thank the gods.”

Pushing past Oswin, Raimie hurried to me.

“I’m so glad you’re ok.”

He grabbed my shoulder, probably meaning for it to be comforting, and I barely kept from flinching.

This was Raimie. My friend. I was safe here.

“Yes, you are,” Creation softly said from their corner. “No one’s going to hurt you right now.”

Maybe not, but even still, the fact that Oswin was still standing in the doorway, staring, didn’t bode well.

I couldn’t let him see how much this bothered me.

With difficulty, I turned to Raimie.

“What happened?” I asked.

Wincing, Raimie curled in on himself.

“A few soldiers attacked you,” he said. “It was bad, Rhy.”

Nodding, I said, “I know that. I was more curious about what happened… afterward.”

Although I did still have some questions about what had happened during my death, most especially about Raimie’s behavior. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure I could ask any of them with a spy hovering over us.

When was that man planning on coming into the room?

“Well, after you… you know,” Raimie said before vaguely waving at me, “Oswin and I dragged you here.”

So, at the least, the spy had seen me dead. That had seemed obvious, given his reaction on coming into the room, but the confirmation of my suspicion was nice.

“And what exactly have you told Oswin to keep him from… discarding me?” I said.

Had my friend told the spy my secret?

Shaking himself, said spy finally shed his shock, letting the door fall closed behind him as he leaned against the wall.

“Raimie said that sometimes, Ele does a magic… thing to people like you,” he said, looking mighty uncomfortable as he did so. “He said that when you’re close to dying, it puts you into a death-like state, there to preserve your body for a time. The hope is that a healer can reach you before that time runs out. Does that sound about right?”

Oh, thank the gods. Raimie hadn’t shared my secret. Given how often learning about it had hurt people in the past, I was fairly unwilling to let that piece of me get out.

Seriously, though? He’d blamed my curse on Ele’s healing ability? That wasn’t at all how that technique worked, and Raimie knew this. On seeing my side-eyed glare, he gave me a slight headshake, almost as if he hadn't wanted Oswin to see it.

Which of course, the spy had. That man had probably been trained to spot even the smallest of changes in body language.

But in answer to his question.

“That’s… a sufficient explanation, I suppose,” I said. “Is that it, then? I almost died, and the two of you got me into hiding before anyone else could see what happened?”

If that was so, had they also been able to clean up the bodies we’d left behind? Gods, how was Raimie planning to fix that complication?

Wincing, my friend half-closed one eye.

“Unfortunately, no,” he said. “Um… you’ve actually been ‘dead’—”

There, he made air quotes.

“—for a little over a day. And before Oswin caught up to help me with things, several soldiers ran across me and your supposed corpse. I’d be surprised if rumors of your death haven’t spread through the ranks by now.”

…Great.

Sighing, I leaned back on my hands with my eyes closed. This cycle kept getting increasingly complicated. It was starting—and I did mean starting—to worry me. How long would I be able to manage this chaos? Could I do that, long enough to reach my end goal at least?

Did that matter right now?

With my eyes still closed, I said. “Then, Rhylix is dead. That’s fine. I can work with it.”

Across from me, Oswin coughed out an aborted laugh.

“And how do you mean to do that?” he said.

Frowning, I snapped my head down to stare at the spy. I wasn’t sure how I’d made a poor impression on this man, but the bad attitude he’d always had while in my presence was starting to bother me. Maybe it was time to show him I wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

“Simple, really,” I said.

Getting to my feet, I fixed Oswin with a cold smile.

“I’ll become someone else.”

Chapter 10: Unexpected Compassion

Rhylix

 

I started with my cursed height. To this point, I’d never bothered with correcting that horrible aspect of my body, but if daily magic use was to be forced upon me, I might as well make myself comfortable. Yes?

The view from one foot down was… disconcerting. Any extreme change to my body was like that, of course, but with this one, I got a good view of Oswin’s shocked surprise and Raimie’s wry grin.

Next came my hair. Slowly, I shifted the green in it down to my eyes, muting its red color to a darker shade, and once that was done, all that was left was to modify smaller items, like softening my cheekbones and shifting my eyes closer together. Little changes to perfect the painting I’d become.

Once everything was finished, I released a breath while shaking out my arms. Over the next few days, I’d have to practice my sword forms, getting used to the change in my reach, but that should be simple enough to accomplish.

“We’ll have to pick a new name for me too,” I distractedly said. “It should be something similar, otherwise the change might have one of you breaking my disguise. Ryvolim, maybe? I haven’t used that name in a while, and he was one of the few times I’ve been happy in life.”

Turning to Raimie, I raised an eyebrow.

“What do you think?” I said. “Is it human enough?”

Snorting, my friend nodded, but he got interrupted before he could say anything else.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Oswin shakily said. “You can change how you look? How have I never heard about this before? And… is this another application of Ele or something else?"

“It’s Eselan magic,” Raimie said with amusement.

Smirking, I added, “It’s called shape change, and of course you’ve never heard of it. We Esela keep this magic type under wraps, only sharing it with the Audish royal family in recent years. Humans tend to get fussy once they realize that the ‘inferior’ race can look like them.”

For a moment, Oswin was speechless, simply shaking his head, but soon enough, he was snorting with laughter.

“Alouin, that's such a useful skill,” he said. “I can’t even… it would help so much with what I do.”

“It has been rather handy, especially when I’ve had to infiltrate an enemy’s ranks in the past,” I said.

Chuckling, Oswin said, “I’ll bet.”

A knock on the door jarred us out of whatever strange sense of camaraderie had been forming, and at Raimie’s nod, Oswin moved to open it. For a heartbeat, I panicked, needing to get behind the door, before I remembered that I’d already assumed a shape change. Whoever was about to come through that door wouldn’t know who I was and subsequently, wouldn’t freak out about the dead-man-walking that I’d become.

I really needed to address that anxiety of mine at some point.

A nameless soldier soon came inside, scanning the room as he did. His eyes briefly lingered on me, but considering how quickly he moved on to his king, I assumed he’d been merely curious about the stranger in the room.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I have the report you requested.”

Report? Report on what?

“Oh, good!” Raimie said. “Please, tell me what you’ve learned.”

“First, we’ve finished debriefing this fort’s former Overseer,” the soldier said. “Someone’s writing those proceedings up for you, so you should have the information we learned soon.”

Shifting in place, the soldier took a breath before pausing. He looked away, swallowing a few times before he could speak again.

“Second, the incident from last night has been contained. The three men who attacked… your friend were working on their own. For the moment, no one else is acting like they want to hurt him, although I suppose that doesn’t much matter now.”

As this man had been speaking, I’d had to hold myself perfectly still, hoping to disappear in the room. Drawing attention to myself right now would be bad.

Was this how Raimie had chosen to address the issue of the men he’d killed while helping me? By turning what had happened into a crime so he could investigate it?

It made sense, of a sort. Those people had assaulted me… I supposed. Unfortunately, I was so used to that sort of thing happening that I was surprised others might consider it a crime.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it,” Raimie said, “but come. You shouldn’t feel-”

Jerking his head up, the nameless soldier blurted, “Forgive me, sir, but I was wondering if I could make a request of you.”

Raimie blinked for a moment before nodding.

“Of course you can.”

His easy acquiescence seemed to have made the soldier uncomfortable, given how much the man was shuffling in place.

“During the battle on the beach, I was one of the people who served as a distraction for our main cohort,” he said. “I… or rather we—those of us Rhylix saved—would like to know what you’re planning to do with his- his body. If you mean to hold a memorial for him, we want to be there. He deserves to be honored.”

I could swear my breath had been knocked out of my body. How…? When had the world changed around me?

I hadn’t thought my actions over this cycle had been enough to overcome people’s typical fear and revulsion of primeancers. With those feelings so deeply entrenched in the world’s populace, changing them was usually impossible, and yet, here was proof that maybe this time, I’d been wrong.

With a gruff voice, Raimie said, “You’re right. Rhylix certainly deserves any honor that you would like to bestow. But!”

Moving forward, he rested a hand on the soldier’s shoulder.

“I won’t be in charge of his memorial. That job will fall to Ren, his sister, and anyone else she wants to include in the process,” he said. “In fact, the man who will be transporting Rhylix’s body to her is with us now.”

As he waved at me, I fought off a shiver of appreciation. That had been a masterful manipulation of the truth.

“Honestly, though, my advice is for you to honor Rhylix in whatever way you think best,” Raimie continued. “You don’t need a body for that, not when he wouldn’t be in it. For now, Rhylix exists here—”

He nudged the soldier’s forehead.

“—in your memories.”

Coughing, the soldier had to clear his throat a few times before he could reply.

“Thank you, sir. We’ll do just that.”

With a grin, Raimie patted his shoulder.

“Whatever you and your friends end up doing, make sure you invite me,” he said. “I’d love to join you.”

“We- we wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise,” the soldier said.

“Good!” Raimie said, clapping his hands together. “Now. Was there anything else? I should finish briefing Ryvolim here about what’s needed from him. Given how little we have on hand for preserving bodies right now, he has quite the task in front of him if he’s to reach Ren in time.”

…What-?

“No, no. That was all,” the nameless soldier said. “Except… as you’re probably aware, the Zrelnach’s commander, Gistrick, arrived earlier this afternoon. He asked me to tell you that he and his people are ready to take over here. Something about you—and I’m quoting here, sir—‘getting on with the next phase of this ridiculous plan’.”

At that, Raimie huffed.

“He would put it like that,” he said. “Thank you for letting me know, Dravenik. If there’s nothing else, you’re dismissed.”

When he heard his name, the soldier’s eyebrows shot for his hairline, and he hurried to salute.

“As you say, sir,” he said.

But then, he left the room, moving so fast that it had Oswin chuckling.

“I don’t think they like you knowing their names,” he said.

Making a face, Raimie said, “Well, that’s too bad. I can’t help learning them, and if my soldiers insist on calling me ‘sir’ and ‘Your Majesty’, they can deal with me using their own damn names.”

“I’m sure they’ll get used to it soon enough,” I said. “Can we go back a little, though? You mentioned something about preserving bodies a minute ago, presumably in reference to how quickly they tend to rot. And what was that about Gistrick arriving earlier today?”

So far as I’d been aware, he shouldn't have arrived until tomorrow morning. Had I missed something?

Shifting in place, Raimie and Oswin exchanged an uneasy glance before my friend made a face.

“It’s like I said earlier, Rhy. You were ‘dead’ for a little less than a day, which means it’s almost nighttime again,” he said. “Remember? I did mention that, right?”

He looked to Oswin for confirmation, but I barely registered the spy’s nod. Turning on Creation, still hovering in a corner, I lifted an eyebrow.

“A little less than a day?” I said.

That was an unprecedentedly long time for Ele to keep from Restoring my body. Unless a delay like that was planned way ahead of time, I was usually back on the physical plane within a couple of minutes.

Shrinking on themselves, Creation said, “There have been some problems with… things recently. In the whole, I mean. I’ve been meaning to tell you about it for a while now but…”

Trailing off, they shrugged, and I narrowed my eyes at them.

“Yes, that seems like something I should have known about,” I said.

If I was unaware of shifts in the Eternal War, no matter how slight, then my ability to accomplish Ele’s purpose for me got compromised. I doubted the primal force wanted that to happen, meaning Creations should have already told me about these supposed ‘problems’.

They seemed to know what I was thinking because they shot a hand up to stop me from speaking.

“We can discuss it later,” they said. “When you’re not around them.”

Creation gestured at Oswin and Raimie, who were curiously watching me, and sighing, I nodded.

“Fair enough,” I said before turning my attention to the other two people in the room. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get so distracted.”

“It’s fine, Rhy,” Raimie drawled, cautiously eyeing me. “Given everything that’s happened in the last day, it makes sense that you’d need to discuss things with your splinter. And you know… if you need a moment to just breathe, you can have that too.”

I was a little tense and if that stress was showing enough for Raimie to notice it…

Damn. I hadn’t meant to worry my friend.

“Is that what he was doing?” Oswin said. “Talking to his Ele splinter?”

As Raimie nodded, I sharply glanced at the spy. How much did he know about primeancy? Sure, the fact that primeancers usually had a splinter hanging around them was common knowledge. But still.

And speaking of the spy…

“Now that we’ve established how we’ll handle my apparent death, there’s only one other issue to address,” I said. “Oswin. Can you keep this secret? I don’t want to go through an annoying amount of magic use, along with its associated energy drain, if my cover could get blown by a slip of the tongue.”

Oswin let loose a single laugh.

“You’ll have more of a problem with that from Raimie than me,” he said. “No offense meant, sir. I know you wouldn’t endanger your friend by doing something so careless.”

“No offense taken,” Raimie said.

The spy’s assertion had done little to reassure me, and I had to be perfectly clear on this point. With how hectic life was about to become, I couldn’t deal with juggling another shift in name and personality on top of everything else.

“Are you sure about that?” I said. “Keeping secrets can be-”

“Rhy, stop,” Raimie said. “He’s a spy, remember? Keeping secrets is part of his job.”

And wasn’t that a terrifying thought?

“But if it’ll make you feel better…”

Turning to face Oswin, Raimie glanced back at me.

“Are you paying attention?” he asked.

When I inclined my head, he turned solemn, putting all of his focus on the spy in our midst.

“Oswin. What we’ve discussed in this room, including Rhylix’s many abilities and the way we intend to hide them, is privileged information,” he said. “You should consider it as highly sensitive as the most prized of state secrets. This, your king commands. Understood?”

Oswin snapped into a bow.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said.

And even if I couldn’t see his face, I knew Raimie was wincing.

“Get up!” he snapped. “There’s no need for that. Let’s move on with the day.”

Rising, Oswin smirked at my friend.

“Of course… Your Majesty,” he said.

“Alouin, your snark knows no bounds, does it?” Raimie said.

He was still rolling his eyes when he faced me.

“Satisfied?” he said.

“Supremely.”

After all, there wasn’t much more I could do to ensure Oswin’s silence.

“So glad my trustworthiness has been established,” the spy drawled.

Which made me wince. Much as I might have needed to draw this line in the sand, for my own safety, it probably hadn’t helped with improving Oswin’s disposition toward me.

“Is that it, then?” he continued. “We cover up a giant internal issue as best we can, and Rhyli… Ryvolim pretends to be human for a while?”

“At least until things have calmed down, yes,” I said. “Maybe once that happens, Rhylix can make a return, but for now, this is the best solution I have for the problem.”

Sighing, Oswin rested his hands on his hips with his head bowed.

“All right. I’ll sell the story as best I can,” he said, “but in the meantime, we all have things to do. Now that Da’kul is secure, we should return to Tiro as quickly as possible so we can get ahead of any rumors that might form, and before we can leave, I’ll need to brief my subordinates about this and their next assignments. I’m sure the two of you have things to do as well.”

“Unfortunately,” Raimie said. “Now that chaos has started back up again, it unlikely to relent anytime soon.”

“Such is life,” I said. “If you’ll remember, I did warn you about this, not too long ago in fact.”

At my friend’s groan, I shot him a silly grin.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, “but anyway. Let’s get our shit done, and then, it’s time to go home. Yes?”

I didn’t know if I’d call Tiro home but…

“Yes, let’s leave this place.”

Chapter 11: Victorious Return

Raimie

 

The great stone doors of Tiro cracked open loudly in the forest’s quiet, and on seeing the city peeking from in between them, I grinned at Rhylix… or Ryvolim, I supposed. He smiled back before heading toward the opening, but I couldn’t blame him for his rush. My friend had a difficult task to accomplish today: reaching Ren before she heard about his death, and I wished him luck with it.

I was surprised that she wasn’t here to greet us. Ren had put up such a fuss about us capturing Da’kul without her, so I’d expected that she’d be waiting when we returned, eager to chew us out again. Honestly, I’d kind of been looking forward to it.

Not to her berating me, of course. That sort of thing was never fun, but I did like watching her face when she was exasperated. She got so expressive sometimes, a fascinating picture to watch.

Besides, her exasperation this time hadn't been coming from a place of spite or hate. It had been born out of worry, both for her brother and for me.

That last fact still surprised me at times.

Why should it? came from the depths of me. You two have been NAUSEATING over the last few months, despite Oswin’s warnings. By now, it should be obvious that she cares for you.

Chuckling, I hurried after… Ryvolim with said spy trailing me.

Yes, I said. Doesn’t change the fact that it surprises me.

As I passed through the doors, they creaked closed behind me, which made me wince. Tiro looked the same as always: cramped, worn-down and yet, oh-so-wonderful. True, I’d learned how much I disliked close-quarters over the last two months, spent in this city, but even now, the ingenuity that had created this place helped to alleviate my crawling skin while here.

Still. It wouldn’t be long before I was itching to climb the lattice that hid this city from view, there to feel the free air and spend a few moments watching the stars. I’d spent enough time there over the winter, clearing off the snow gathered on it, and while completing that chore for Tiro hadn’t helped much when it came to its citizens’ disposition toward me, it had made them slightly less… antagonistic.

My victory on the beach earlier in the fall had probably helped with that as well.

None of that was to say that Tiro’s citizens hated me, not anymore. For the moment, they’d settled into neutral indifference and honestly? I was fine with that.

For now, I had other things to do than enjoy a moment of solitude on the terrace above or struggle through social interactions with barely amicable semi-strangers. As quickly as possible, I made my way to Tiro’s main square, where my people had been camping over the winter. While walking among them, soldiers occasionally called out greetings to me or Oswin, all of which we returned.

They looked all right. I’d been worried that Tanwadur, Tiro’s leader, would renege on our agreement about feeding my people while I was away, but everyone here looked well-fed, if cold. Winter’s chill had yet to break, even with the snow slowly melting, so everywhere I looked, people were heavily bundled up, and many fires had been built between the tents in the square.

I am glad to see our big family so healthy and content, Nylion whispered in my head, although if Tanwadur had broken his promise, it would have shocked me. Much as I do not like him, I have to admit that he seems too caught up in maintaining his reputation to do such a thing. It is good to see that my assessment was not wrong.

Mmm, was all I said back.

I didn’t know why Nylion was so confident about Tanwadur staying in line. To me, that man had always read as shifty, but still, I trusted my other half. He’d always been better than me at noticing danger, especially when it came from other people, so if he said Tanwadur could be trusted, I did my best to believe him.

Still, I hadn’t left myself open for him to stab me in the back. That possibility was one of the reasons I’d asked Ren to stay here, rather than having her join us in Da’kul. I’d needed someone I trusted in place, watching a possible source of danger for me.

You probably should have told her that. She may love Tanwadur like a father, but even she will admit that he does not like you very much, Nylion said. I am not criticizing you about that, mind you! I am merely… commenting.

With a snort, I shook my head because he was right. I should have told Ren why I was leaving her behind, but with how hectic things had gotten before we’d left for Da’kul, it had slipped my mind.

Oh, well. Maybe I could explain it to her when I saw her later.

You will have to get through the next hour before doing that, Nylion said. Have you decided what you will tell… them?

As always, a pinch of heated dislike splashed from my other half when he mentioned Eledis and my father, but in the last few months, I’d learned to ignore the sensation, if only because Nylion insisted that I do so. While I’d love to know why he didn’t like my family, respecting his wishes had always, in everything, come first for me.

Not sure yet, I said. I’d like to see what they know about… things first.

I was trying not to think about said ‘things’. With me having gone elsewhere at the time—which was a worrying incident all around—Nylion might have been the one to find Rhylix after he’d been attacked, but if I thought too hard about those events, flashes of images from those horrible moments leaked through to me, no matter how much Nylion resisted it. I knew he wanted to shield me from what had happened, but apparently, something about it had badly distressed him too, which had me reluctant to remind him of it.

And of course, I didn’t want to remember it for myself as well.

Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to keep avoiding this for long. As I approached Tanwadur’s home, where he'd given my family a room to share, I tried to figure out how I’d explain… things without saying anything.

You know that will not be possible, Nylion said. I will be fine, heart of my heart. Do not use me to avoid the problem.

Yeah, I know.

Shaking my head, I rested my hand on the house’s front door, but I couldn’t make myself push it open. For what felt like forever, I was stuck there, struggling with what the hell I should do, but soon enough, someone laid their hand on my shoulder.

“Whatever you tell your family, I’ll back you up, sir. You have an ally in this.”

Oswin. That was right.

Glancing back at him, I smiled, even if it felt crooked.

“Thanks,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”

When I walked into my family’s room, my father and Eledis were there, thank the gods, and to my great surprise, so was Marcuset, sitting on a stool in the corner. His presence might be a good thing, though. Maybe I’d only have to go through one unavoidably awkward conversation today.

“Raimie! You’re back,” my father said.

After fighting to get off of his bed, he shuffled to me, and as he wrapped me in a hug, I ignored the faint surge of curdled heat coming from Nylion. Pulling away from me, my father grinned, keeping a tight grip on my arms.

“We heard all about your success from the returning soldiers!” he said. “Taking Da’kul with only two hundred. Who’d have thought it was possible?”

Us. We did, Nylion grumbled inside.

With a half-smile, I ducked my head.

“I wasn’t so sure about it myself,” I said. “Thank you, all of you, for trusting me enough to let me try it.”

In his corner, Marcuset shrugged.

“It wasn’t that hard to do. You have yet to steer us wrong,” he said.

At that, I fought to keep my face neutral. Sure, Marcuset might say such encouraging things, but I knew how shaky our relationship had been since the battle on the beach. The risk I’d taken in ‘throwing away our soldiers’ lives’—as the commander had once put it—had been hovering over us in the months since.

Given that, I was grateful for Oswin’s silent presence at my shoulder.

Yes, he is our ally, like he said, Nylion whispered. Always remember that. With him here, we are safe.

That’s right, I said.

No matter how much I hated having a bodyguard, I knew Oswin wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

To this point, Eledis had remained silent, focused on the paper in his hands, and I briefly wondered if it was the report I’d had drafted about our efforts at Da’kul. His lack of even the simplest of greetings didn’t surprise me, though. Much as I might love my grandfather, he’d never been the most affectionate of people.

But I should get into the issue I’d come here to address. Hopefully, I could bring up this subject as delicately as it would require.

Clearing my throat, I said, “There’s something we should-”

As if waiting for that exact moment, Eledis grunted, lowering the report to glance at me.

“What’s this I’m reading about you killing three of the soldiers under your command?” he asked.

…Or he could come right out and say it.

Stiffening, my father dropped his hold on me while Marcuset reared back on his stool.

“You did what?” he said in a strangled voice.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I took a moment to rub my face.

“It was a bit more complicated than just ‘killing them’,” I said through my hands. “Maybe you should finish reading about that incident before making any judgments, Eledis.”

Since he’d brought it up so abruptly, I’d let my grandfather take over with explaining what had happened. Right now, I was fighting too much against a need to throw up to do the same.

I knew Nylion had only done what he must when it came to protecting Rhylix. He’d never have killed those men if he’d had another choice, and I certainly didn’t blame him for it, but still, I hated having more deaths on my conscience.

One would think that after a battle, where I’d ended far too many lives, I’d be used to this sort of violence, but… I wasn’t. I really, really wasn’t.

After only a few tense moments, Eledis said, “Ah.”

Lowering the report, he eyed me appraisingly, and when nothing else came from him, Marcuset clicked his tongue.

“Let me see that,” he said, snatching the paper out of Eledis’ hands.

As he read over what my grandfather had finished, I did my best to ignore how still my father had gone. At my side, he was watching me like I was a monster.

Or no. That wasn’t disgust in his eyes. It was… fear, maybe? Wariness? I wasn’t sure of the best word to describe it.

Marcuset soon finished, choking out a cough as he did, and in his distraction, Eledis took the chance to steal the report back.

“Raimie…” the commander said. “I’m so sorry.

Well, that didn’t feel good. Why did his sympathy feel like acid, burning through me?

“Would someone please tell me what the hell happened?” my father snapped.

Right. I should do that. At the least, it looked like no one else would tackle the task.

“The incident in question occurred after the fight to take Da’kul. That night, I ran across three soldiers attacking another person,” I said. “From what I could tell, they had every intention of beating this man to death, and I couldn’t let that happen. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived, the three soldiers had already been at it for quite a while, and I wasn’t sure how much time their victim had left. I- I badly wanted to save him, so with little time for anything else, I… killed them. That’s what happened.”

“I… see,” my father said.

He took a deep breath, letting tension leak from him, before shaking his head.

“Well, while I can understand what you did, you should have taken those men alive,” he said. “If you had, we could have held a tribunal, getting justice for the victim-”

“That wouldn’t have worked,” Eledis said. “In this incident, justice would never have been served.”

My father cocked his head at Eledis.

“What are you talking about?” he said. “You’ve always insisted that a military’s legal system was fair and just, and I’ve seen proof of that over the years. So, why would holding a tribunal for this incident have been any different?”

Carefully watching me, Marcuset said, “It wouldn’t have worked because of who the victim was.”

Gods, they were trying so hard to keep from saying his name. Was that meant for my benefit?

Even as my father’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, I said, “Rhylix, dad. The victim was Rhylix.”

My father jerked his head toward me with horror painted in his eyes.

“Oh, Raimie…” he said. “I- hell. I’m-”

“It’s fine,” I said, chopping a hand in front of my body.

I couldn’t take their sympathy, not when it was for something that hadn’t actually happened.

You are right. That part is disconcerting, to say the least, Nylion said. Still, I am enjoying this. It is nice to watch them squirm for once, even if that pleasure is small. I am not sure if it is a good look on the commander, though.

“In any case,” I said over my other half, “I didn’t kill those soldiers for sentimental reasons alone. Yes, anger was driving me, in part, because Rhylix is…was my friend. Of course I wanted to hurt the people killing him.”

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t continue, struggling with the simple task of breathing. Fire had closed my throat, stinging my eyes, and it took me a moment to swallow that heat.

You see why I did what I did, Nylion whispered. Even if it was in part, like you said.

Of course I did. I didn’t think I could see it any other way.

Then, tell them the other reason for my violence.

“But I also acted out of concern for my own safety,” I made myself continue. “I’m already facing the threat of death from Doldimar and the many Enforcers under his command. I couldn’t add the possibility of people attacking me for my primeancy on top of that. Yes, people may only partially believe the tales of my magic at the moment, but that could change any day now. With such a great threat presented, I had to shower quick and terrible retribution on the soldiers who would harm my fellow primeancer, lest I face the same threat someday.”

For a moment, Marcuset, my father, and Eledis could only blink at me before the commander released a forced chuckle.

“An eminently practical reason for your actions, right alongside the sentimental,” he said. “That’s very you.”

I didn’t know about that.

“Yes, well. As I said, that’s what happened,” I said, badly wanting to move on, “and it’s why I came here first after arriving. I figured each of you would want an explanation, but unless you have other questions for me about our takeover of Da’kul, I’d like to take care of a few personal matters. May I go or…?”

“Please,” Marcuset said. “I’m sure you need time-”

Never looking up from his continued perusal of the report, Eledis said, “I’m curious about why you left Da’kul’s Overseer alive. Mind explaining that before you go traipsing off elsewhere?”

Oh, gods. Seriously? Eledis might definitely be where I’d gotten my lack of social graces from, but even he had to see what a mistake he’d made in delaying someone who was ‘grieving’ from handling their shit.

Or had it been a mistake? I wasn’t really grieving, and I should probably finish explaining myself to these people, right? They might need the knowledge I possessed to make further plans, and they were certainly better at seeing the logistics of the things I’d done. I could use the feedback.

Right?

Raimie. That is patently- Nylion started.

“If you find it acceptable, sir, I’d be more than happy to finish our story for the last few days,” Oswin said. “As soon as I found you after the battle, I was by your side for the rest of our time in Da’kul. So, I can answer any questions your father or the commander may have, and one of my subordinates should be nearby. She can take over my bodyguard duties while I’m indisposed.”

Right. Oswin. How had I forgotten he was here? Granted, being forgettable was part of his job at times…

But still.

Slowly, I let myself relax, turning to the spy as I did.

“Thank you,” I whispered before raising my voice. “Oswin will take it from here.”

And I left.

Chapter 12: Her Misconception

Raimie

 

I didn’t stop for any other pleasantries with my family. Storming through the door, I was out of the house faster than I’d thought possible, fighting to keep my breathing under control.

Gods, why had that been so difficult?

You HAVE been avoiding even thinking about what happened at the fort, heart of my heart. Remember? Nylion said. And I do not think that the emotional fallout of Rhylix’s death and everything else we experienced has finished settling as well. You have been acting… strangely today.

That was fair. Definitely fair. Incredibly fair.

Alouin, how did I stop my heart from beating out of my chest? Was this- was this a panic attack? Why would I-?

Did I not just answer that question? Nylion sighed. As for fixing it, you have one person who is good at calming you down. Yes?

Yes. Yes, I did. I should-

-go see Ren, Nylion said. Please, do that.

But where would she be?

How should I know? I am not usually around when you two are together. I do not…

A sigh rattled inside my head.

Where do you and Ren typically spend time together?

Outside Tiro. In the snow. Having snowball fights and taking walks through a deeply hushed wood. In her home, wrapped in our separate cocoons of blankets while our clothes dried by the fire. Sparring in Tiro’s training yard. Drinking at Sigemond’s-

That is probably the best place to start, yes? A tavern keeper is likely to know a city’s latest news and happenings, after all.

…Not all the time, but Nylion was still right. The tavern wasn’t a bad place to look for Ren.

Shaking myself, I oriented to where I was in Tiro. How had I gotten halfway across the city while I’d been stuck in my head?

My fault, Nylion whispered with his voice getting fainter. Walking tends to keep you from getting buried deeper inside.

I… had not known that.

But I had somewhere to be.

When I reached Sigemond’s tavern, I’d started feeling less muddled. My head still had way too much fog in it, but I could actually register things in the real world again.

Hell. I hadn’t gotten that drawn back into my own head since I was a little boy. Rhylix’s supposed death must have truly messed with me.

Which made sense. Him ‘dying’ and me having to live the double life of that being both a truth and a lie was reminiscent of—

“Raimie! Gud to see yu!”

With a start, I located the man who’d been yelling for my attention, smiling when I caught sight of him behind his bar. As I came closer, Sigemond waved the rag that he’d been using to clean glasses over his head.

“Hey, Siggy,” I said. “Have you seen Ren?”

“Oh, ho! Raid must have gone gud if first thing yu ask after is woman,” Sigemond said, chuckling. “That’s wut I hear tell anyway. Gud sign, taking a fort on yur first time out.”

Flushing, I ducked my head.

“Thanks, I think,” I said. “But what I was asking about. Ren?”

“Right, right,” Sigemond said. “I seen her going to gate. She seemed… how yu say… upset. Might be careful seeing her.”

Oh, damn. Had Rhylix not gotten to her in time?

Grimacing, I said, “Thanks.”

I knocked on the bar top, meaning to leave, but Sigemond caught my wrist before I could go.

“Hurd tell also about yur friend,” he said. “So sorry, little Raimie. Drinks waiting for yu, next time you’re here.”

“…Thanks,” I somehow managed to say.

But then, I pulled away from an unwelcome grip, barely keeping from stumbling to the door. Once I was through it, I pulled Ele to me, running for Tiro’s gate. If Ren thought her brother was dead for even a single second, I didn’t know what I’d do with myself.

I reached my goal in record time, racing up the tower that housed the gate’s machinery. Gears and rods and pulleys passed by me in a flash, but once I’d reached the top, I had to stop short, nearly running into Rhy… Ryvolim.

With his attention fixed on something outside a nearby opening, my friend dragged his gaze toward me, and the horror in his eyes!

Swallowing hard, he said, “Help.”

When I glanced around him, I winced, knowing exactly why he seemed so distressed. Ren was sitting between the lip of Tiro’s concealing terrace and the edge of its great stone doors, near the crease where the two met. With a clay mug in her hand, she was drinking deeply from it, and as she tilted backward to get a last drop, she nearly tumbled off of her perch, which had Ryvolim making a pained noise.

I wasn’t as worried about Ren’s seeming unsteadiness. I’d been around her when she’d been drunk before, so I knew she wasn’t likely to lose her sense of balance to a little bit of alcohol.

Still, I was careful as I climbed through the tower’s opening, and as I tested my weight on the top of the doors, I firmly met Ryvolim’s gaze.

“I may be going first,” I said, “but you’d better be coming right after me.”

He silently nodded, and releasing a heavy sigh, I faced a wonderful wreck of a woman. When I reached her, she glanced up with tear tracks glistening on her face.

“Is it true, Raimie?” she softly asked. “Is my brother dead?”

Godsdamnit. I’d really hoped to keep this from happening, but I supposed that hope wasn’t to be.

How did I fix it?

“There was an… incident,” I started, “but Ren-”

With her face screwing up, Ren flinched away, slapping her hands to her mouth to cover a sob.

“Alouin, I knew it!” she cried. “He is… was always so fucking CLUELESS when it came to his own safety. I knew you’d need me in Da’kul to help with that but no. I had to stay here, being absolutely useless.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” I said. “You’re anything but useless, Ren. I needed you here-”

Having seemingly not heard a word I’d said, Ren jerked back toward me with her teeth bared.

“Did you kill the bastards who hurt him?” she snapped. “Tell me you made them suffer.”

Damnit. Damn, damn, damn.

“They’re gone, yes,” I said. “Ren, please. I need to-”

“Good!” Ren shouted. “I’m glad!”

For the love of the gods, I knew this woman was hurting. I knew that was partially my fault, but if she’d let me explain myself, maybe I could ease her pain.

“Ren,” I firmly said. “I need you to meet someone. This is Ryvolim.”

As I waved my friend forward, Ren made a face.

“I’m not up for meeting strangers right-” she started.

“Listen to me,” I said. “This is Ryvolim. Ryvolim.”

Blearily staring at me, Ren tried to take another swig from her drink, glaring at it when she found it empty, but as soon as my words actually registered in her head, she lost her grip on the mug. It splintered into pieces on the ground while she scrambled to her feet.

“Ryvolim?” she breathed. “Are you telling me-?”

Reaching around me, Ryvolim laid a hand full of light on his sister’s cheek, and after a shocked beat, she burst into tears.

“Hey, hey!” Ryvolim said. “It’s ok! I’m ok.”

“You big jerk!” Ren said, smacking his arm. “I thought you were dead!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Ok…

“Much as I’m happy to see you two reunited, can we put this greeting on pause for a moment?” I said. “I’d rather not get stuck between you when you eventually decide to hug.”

Laughing, Ren swiped at her face.

“That’s fair,” she said. “After you, dead man.”

When she waved at the tower that Ryvolim and I had left behind, he snorted, starting back toward it, but before I could follow, Ren caught my wrist.

Glancing up at me, she said, “You kept him safe?”

With a half-smile, I gently finagled my wrist out of her hold.

“I don’t know about that,” I said. “Your brother’s pretty good at keeping himself alive.”

True. Technically true.

“Always so modest,” Ren softly said.

She reached up to brush my jaw before slowly leaning forward, giving me time to prepare. It was a dance we’d learned well over the last few months, so when she eventually touched her lips to mine, I was ready for the brief wave of revulsion and too-tight-skin that rolled over me. I could endure it for the two seconds it took to fade before leaning into the kiss.

Gods, this was everything I’d ever wanted from her. She was warmth and light and comfort and safety, and kissing her always felt so good. Right.

But she had a brother, briefly thought dead, to greet.

When I pulled away, I took her hand, squeezing it to let her know we were all right, before getting us back to somewhat stable footing. As soon as I was through the tower’s opening, I stepped aside, letting Ren collapse on her brother, and while watching them hug, I noted my return to a clear-headed state. How did Ren always manage to do that for me?

Well. She almost always did that. Sometimes, I got weirdly antsy around her, and that could summon mind fog and other disorienting sensations, but almost all of the time, she’d been a calm harbor in the storm my life had become.

And I’d only known her for a few months. Shouldn’t reaching such a sense of security with her have taken longer? I tried not to think about that for very long.

Soon enough, the siblings pulled apart, and meeting my eyes, Ryvolim… wiggled his eyebrows at me. Which was weird and distinctly not like him.

“Shall we get drinks?” he said. “Celebrate our victory?”

“And you not being dead?” Ren said. “That sounds great.”

It seemed I’d been overruled without once stating my preferences.

But I was ok with that. I liked the idea of being with my friends while they celebrated Ryvolim’s survival.

Smiling, I gestured toward the tower’s stairs.

“After you.”

Chapter 13: Her Brother

Raimie

 

The world had taken on a slight haze. At my side, Ryvolim was happily chattering about our initial adventure in Da’kul, and I half-listened until he started raising his volume.

“And then- then, this asshole asked for my lock picks-” he practically shouted.

And I drove an elbow into his side, unsure if something with less force would shut him up.

“Maybe we should keep it down about that part?” I softly said.

After all, Ryvolim hadn’t been the one who’d helped me crack Da’kul open. That had been Rhylix, and after the hell my friend had raised about making sure Oswin and I maintained his cover, I wouldn’t let him blow it on his own.

Ryvolim merely smiled at me.

“Good point,” he said.

I couldn’t tell if he was actually drunk or not. Every so often, he pulled stupid shit like this, but I’d seen a few glimpsed clues that his drunken behavior might be an act. When Ren had nearly fallen on her face while bringing us drinks earlier, Ryvolim had been there to catch her before I’d even noticed that she’d tripped, and when someone had come lumbering over, as if to provoke us into a fight, my friend had fixed them with a stone-cold look, making them hastily retreat before Oswin could move to intercept.

Whether he was drunk or not, my friend was concerning me in other ways. Ever since Da’kul, he’d been chipper, which was strange. Other than the first conversation I’d held with him, back in Allanovian, Rhylix had always been somber, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And this was not reflected in Ryvolim’s recent behavior.

Had his last death affected him that much? Or was this a mask he was raising to support his cover?

I was considering this, wondering whether I should get Nylion’s opinion on it, when someone with their face wrapped in cloth strips entered the tavern. As soon as I saw them, I huffed, barely keeping from rolling my eyes.

I’d seen these people often enough in the last few months, and always, they’d come to retrieve Ren at the most inconvenient of times. I assumed they had something to do with her job in Tiro, but to date, she’d been cagey enough about that to keep me from learning what it was.

Even reluctant as I was for this person to interrupt our celebration, I nudged Ren, nodding toward them. Whoever they were, they’d come over here soon enough, and I’d learned it was best if I didn’t delay that from happening.

With a groan, Ren raised a hand to get the stranger’s attention, and they headed toward us. Once they’d gotten close enough, they leaned down to whisper in Ren’s ear, which quickly had her stiffening.

“Really?” she said, jerking her head toward the stranger. “He’s back?”

At the stranger’s nod, Ren grabbed her drink, knocking it back.

“Sorry, you two,” she said. “Something’s come up, and I should take care of it.”

“Anything we can help with?” Ryvolim asked before I could.

Chuckling, Ren gathered her things while scooting to the end of our bench.

“I doubt it, but don’t worry,” she said. “My friend here has told me that Kylorian’s come home, so I’m going to say hello. That’s all.”

Kylorian. Since the battle on the beach, I’d heard a lot about Ren’s adoptive older brother, all of it good, but I had yet to meet him. Before I’d arrived in Tiro, he’d left this place, off on a goodwill mission across Auden. I wasn’t sure what the specifics of this mission were, but given what I’d heard about his exploits—things like rescuing people from towns slated for Harvest or helping villages gather supplies for Doldimar’s ‘tithes’—I knew that he’d been doing impressive work over the winter, wherever he’d been.

In the days since the snow had started melting, I might have been anticipating a meeting with this vaunted figure.

Maybe.

So, as Ren got up to leave, I lifted a finger off of the table.

“Any chance I could come with you?” I asked.

Pausing, Ren looked back at me with a frown.

“Hmm, I don’t…”

But she must have seen how much I wanted to meet her brother because she grimaced.

“Yeah, ok,” she said. “But you can’t breathe a word about your family, Raimie. You have to promise me. Kylorian probably won’t hate you for it, but there are things about who you are that might bother him. We have to be careful with how he learns about it.”

Interesting.

“I can agree to that,” I said.

“Then, let’s go,” Ren said. “Rhy, can you settle our tab?”

Slowly blinking, Ryvolim glanced over the cluttered table before pulling out his empty pockets.

“With what coin?” he drawled.

Rolling her eyes, Ren retrieved a few chits, slamming them on the table, but she had no further words for her brother. Gesturing to me, she led the way outside.

We were quiet as we strolled toward Tiro’s gate, although Ren grabbed my hand at some point. For once, I didn’t mind the contact, enjoying the sway of our joined hands between us. I could even ignore Oswin, skulking in our wake.

When we arrived, the stone doors were already opened with a handful of people trickling through them. Seeing this group, I slowed down, releasing Ren as she hurried forward.

Something about these people… it made me so sad, although I didn’t know why that was the case. Maybe it had to do with their hanging heads or how wearily they trudged down the street or how much their bearing screamed of defeat. I wished I could help them, but I wasn’t sure I could.

When Ren picked up her pace toward the gate, it pulled my attention away from that depressing sight. Shrieking with laughter, she rushed at the man who’d most recently stepped through the stone doors, and at her impact with him, he rocked back before wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair.

Was I allowed to interrupt this greeting? Oswin had disappeared, so I couldn’t ask him. Instead, I hovered in place, unsure of what to do, until Ren pulled away, waving at me.

As I started toward the two, I took in the man’s dark hair and blue eyes, noting a well-defined physique and the stiff way he was holding himself, and something about the sight sparked recognition in me. It wasn’t the same burst of knowing that I’d had about certain people or places in the past, but still, something about this man seemed familiar.

Where have we seen him before? Nylion said in a rush. I could swear…

He stopped for a breath before ruefully continuing.

I see why your strange spats of recognition from before have been so disconcerting.

It’s weird, right? I said. I’m glad you’re here, though. What do you think? Anything I should be looking out for with this one?

After a pause, Nylion said, I am not sure. Maybe you should have your Dim-

But it was too late for him to say anything more.

With an uncertain grin, the man said, “And who’s this, Ren?”

Chuckling, Ren pulled herself out of his hug, although she left an arm slung around his waist.

“This is Raimie,” she said. “My new… friend.”

Friend? Nylion said, almost incredulously. Since when have your varied activities with her been considered merely friendly?

My own, planned introduction got wiped away, and I barely kept from frowning.

…What else would we be, besides good friends? I said.

Friends who KISS? Nylion said. That is… gods, I cannot keep avoiding having That Conversation with you, can I? Damn our father for not doing it himself.

What conversation? I said.

“Good to meet you, Raimie.”

As the new man smiled at me, I forced myself out of my thoughts, remembering at the last second to keep my hand lowered. People in Auden didn’t do handshakes.

“Same to you,” I said, unsure if I should add anything else.

After an awkward pause, the man said, “Well, I’m Kylorian. Ren may have told you about me?”

That made me laugh.

“Yeah, her hero brother may have come up on occasion,” I said.

Rolling her eyes, Ren backhanded my chest.

“Ignore him, Ky,” she said. “So? Do I get to know how your last few months have gone?”

“Yes… at some point,” he said. “When we’re a little more secluded, perhaps?”

Almost unintentionally, he darted his eyes my way, but I didn’t let his rather apparent suspicion phase me. The man had just met me. Of course he didn’t trust me with the results of his ‘secret mission’.

“I can go?” I hesitantly said.

Half-turning away, I jerked a thumb over my shoulder.

“I’m sure there’s something that requires my attention,” I said. “Besides, you two haven’t seen each other in a while. It makes sense that you’d want some privacy. I only came with Ren to introduce myself. I’ve been wanting to meet you for some time now, but now that that’s done, I should probably let you two talk.”

“That might be best, yes,” Kylorian said. “Sorry for the imposition. And thanks!”

He shot a sheepish grin at me, which had the same sense of familiarity punching me in the face.

“Maybe we can have a more in-depth conversation later, though? As you probably know, Ren doesn’t make friends easily, so anyone who’s caught her fancy is someone I’d like to know,” he continued. “We could get a drink, if you like, and maybe Had-had and Ren could join us.”

What a nice idea. There was far too much warmth building in my chest at the idea, so I hoped I wasn’t gushing as I said.

“That would be lovely. We should work out the details later, though. I don’t want to take up more of-”

Before I could finish with my goodbye, Ren huffed.

“Seriously, Ky?” she says. “Raimie’s completely trustworthy. I can guarantee that, so whatever you want to tell me, you can say in front of him too. Promise.”

Um. That had been… abrupt. And a little out of the blue.

Unexpected. I didn’t like it.

But I was glad that Ren thought I was trustworthy. With a hesitant smile, I reached over to squeeze her hand, which had Kylorian raising an eyebrow. So, I quickly let go.

“It’s fine!” I said. “Really. I have a few things-”

“Much as I might trust your judgment in a lot of things, Ren, your assessment of people has always been a little… subpar,” Kylorian said. “Or are we forgetting about Josenik?”

What… or I supposed who now?

Also. What was it with this family and interrupting me? First, it had been Ren and Ryvolim earlier, and now, it was these two.

Did- did you not hear what he said about your ‘friend’? Nylion whispered in the back of my head. His tone, heart of my heart… that was not meant to be read as kind, no matter how gently he is smiling now.

It hadn’t been?

Narrowing my eyes, I ran them over Ren, noting how much she’d shrunken on herself, and realized that Nylion had been right. As usual.

Seeing a chastened state on her stung. Could I do anything about it?

Hesitantly, I coughed into a fist, quirking a nervous smile when both of the siblings snapped their gazes to me.

“Look. It’s truly not a big deal for me to leave,” I said. “You two obviously need to talk, although…”

For a moment, I teetered in uncertainty before heaving a big sigh.

“I’m not trying to intrude with this. Maybe I’m even wrong to bring it up,” I said, “but Kylorian? I may not have known your sister as long, but in my experience, she’s always been an excellent judge of character. Whatever mistakes she’s made in the past shouldn’t reflect on her actions now, especially if she’s learned from them. But again, I’m not trying to judge or be an asshole. I’m simply making an observation.”

Kylorian had stiffened with his gaze turning sharp, and as he opened his mouth to reply, I winced in preparation of scathing words.

It was to my relief, then, that a familiar voice drifted to us from further down the street, turning us to it.

“Your Majesty!”

Except... oh, shit. Why the hell would Oswin have called me that? He’d been close by when Ren had told me not to talk about my family when around Kylorian. Shouldn’t he know better than to shout my annoying as hell title from the metaphorical rooftops?

But as the spy came to a stop beside us, puffing up a storm, I watched Kylorian’s hand slip off of his sword’s grip while a potently dismayed and confused look took hold of his face. Had he been about to attack me?

It is possible, Nylion said. I certainly sensed hostility from him for a moment, which confuses me. Up to that point, he seemed somewhat safe. But you should pay attention to Oswin, heart of my heart.

Yes, I should, preferably before my distracted state made me look like an idiot.

“What is it, Oswin?” I said.

Gasping to catch his breath, the spy rested one hand on his hip, flapping the other one at me.

“Nothing too serious,” he said, “but something has come up. I thought you’d like to address it before it becomes a problem.”

Really? Something had come up now, when I’d most needed help?

Gods. Sometimes, I almost wanted to kiss that spy. How did he always know which times were the best ones to step in?

Time to make my escape, though.

“All right. I’ll do that,” I said. “Thank you for bringing the issue to my attention.”

Turning to Ren and Kylorian, I bobbed into a short bow.

“Forgive me, but it seems I’m required elsewhere,” I said. “It was nice to meet you, Kylorian. I hope to see you again soon. Ren, we should talk later, yes?”

As she slowly nodded, Kylorian shook himself, as if to break free of shock.

“Yes, until next time,” he uncertainly said.

But then, I was free to follow Oswin. As soon as we’d rounded a corner, I released a held breath, slumping.

“I have no idea what just happened,” I said, “but it felt extremely strange.”

“Mm,” Oswin said.

We walked in silence for a while before I nudged him, forcing him to give me his attention.

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” I said.

“Of course, sir,” Oswin said. “It’s my job to get you out of any sticky situations you might fall into.”

He might have said that with the most sarcasm possible, but it only made me laugh. Unlike with Kylorian, I knew that Oswin’s criticism had come from a good place.

Unlike with Kylorian…

What do you think of him? I asked Nylion.

Unclear, Nylion said. We need more information.

And hopefully, we’d be able to get it soon. For now, though, my slightly tipsy self should probably find a bedroll before I could create another mess tonight.

As I quickened my pace, I passed Oswin, jostling him as I went, and when he yelped at me, I grinned, pulling Ele to me so I could leave him in my dust.

Chapter 14: Homecoming

Kylorian

I watched Ren’s new ‘friend’ run after his companion with my head cocked and disquiet roiling in my gut. Before, the blonde-haired one had come running down the street, shouting those two words, and my mind had spliced another time and place over the real world. I’d watched a younger me strut across a lantern-lit cavern while people on all sides smiled or whispered those same words, and then, Dury and then, Dury and then, Dury-

“Hey, you ok?”

Puffing out a shaky breath, I glanced at Ren with a half-smile before remembering what I’d just done. As soon as I had, that smile turned into a wince.

“How can you ask me that right now?” I said. “Hell, Ren. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up-”

Raising a hand, Ren nervously laughed.

“It’s all right!” she said. “Let’s forget it, yeah?”

And I was forced to agree with her. I knew how deep the wound of Josenik still ran in Ren, even years after he’d left her here with a problem to resolve, and more than that, I knew not to poke at another person’s sensitive spots. That lesson had been drilled into me over the years.

Instead, I crossed my arms, ruefully smiling at Ren.

“So, you made a friend, huh?” I said. “The notorious Terror of Da’kul made a friend. How’d that happen?”

Flushing, Ren started sputtering, which only made me smile more, before she backhanded my chest again.

“I can make friends as well as the next person, asshole! I simply choose not to,” she said with a huff. “Besides, you’re one to talk.”

“Fair enough.”

While she laughed, I glanced over my surroundings once more, taking in a wondrous sight for perhaps the thousandth time. It didn’t matter how many times I came home to this. It still managed to take my breath away.

Even still, there was that: the fact that this was home. I wondered when I’d get to escape it again.

“So, how’d it go?” Ren said, bouncing in place. “Since Raimie was kind enough to excuse himself from the conversation, are you going to tell me now?”

Right. That.

Ren took one look at my face, and her excitement dropped into nothing.

“Oh,” she softly said.

There was an awkward pause while I scrambled to figure out what to say, but then, Ren shook herself.

“Right. We’ll do the thing tonight, then. I’ll get Had-had. We’ll meet you in the usual place once you’re done, ok?” she said. “But you should go now. Get there before someone else can share the news.”

Alouin, I knew that but…

But she was right, and I could not argue against the truth right now, no matter how often I’d had to do that in the past.

Still, I took the time to squeeze Ren’s shoulder.

“It’ll only be a light scolding, same as always. You know that,” I said, “but yes. I’ll see you there.”

With a grin, Ren said, “All right. Good luck, Ky!”

Holding a hand over my head in farewell, I stayed fixed in place, watching Ren’s back until she was out of sight, but then, I slumped. I vigorously rubbed my face, trying to psych myself up before I had to make an anxiety-fueled walk, but as usual, that didn’t help me much. As I headed to Tiro’s city square, I could feel his presence looming over me, getting closer with every step I took, and it took much more energy than it should to ignore that imaginary sensation.

One good thing was sure to come before I ended this journey, though, and sure enough, when I stepped into the house and was greeted by a higher-pitched voice, I felt my shoulders lowering from my ears. When Eliade came into the foyer, she clasped her hands in front of her face, releasing a happy hum, before spreading her arms wide.

“Welcome home, Ky,” she said.

I hurried into her embrace, clutching her tight once there.

“Hi, mom,” I breathed into her hair.

After a moment, Eliade thrust me away, running her eyes up and down my frame.

“You look thinner,” she said, flicking her eyes up at me in accusation. “Have you been skipping meals again?”

With a nervous laugh, I rubbed the back of my neck, ignoring his voice growling about ‘proper figure’ and ‘having an imposing presence’ in my head.

“Maybe?” I said.

Clicking her tongue, Eliade said, “This is what happens when you get sent away for nearly four months.”

Sighing, she shook her head before pulling me into another hug.

“We’ve missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you,” I said before trailing off, waiting for her to speak her part of this tradition.

“Just as much as you’ve missed my cooking?” she obligingly said.

Solemnly nodding, I said, “Just so.”

“All right, all right.”

Releasing me, Eliade rested her hands on her hips while jerking her head into a nod.

“I’ll go make a basket full of treats for you and your siblings,” she said. “It’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen once you’re done with your father.”

Suppressing a shudder at the mention of him, I said, “Sounds great! Thanks, mom.”

Eliade spun in place, waving my thanks away as she did.

“It’s nothing, Ky. Now, get up those stairs. Can’t keep Dury waiting, now can we?”

No. No, we couldn’t.

As I headed up the stairs, I tried not to trudge, straightening my posture until it was impeccable. Almost automatically, my face settled into a neutral expression, and all the while, I was praying that Tanwadur would be in a good mood today or that he’d at least keep quiet during our conversation. I hated watching Eliade turn into the confused, not-there person that she became when her husband was in one of his ‘moods’. It was such a stark contrast to her typical personality, and every time he forced her into it, it pained me.

At the door to Tanwadur’s study, I took a steadying breath. After receiving an acknowledgment of my knock, I confidently pushed it open.

“Good evening, Dury!” I made myself cheerfully say. “I’m back from greater Auden and bring greetings from our fellow resistances.”

Sitting behind his desk, Tanwadur glanced up at me over the rims of his spectacles before breaking into a smile.

“Ky! How good to see you,” he boomed.

And again, my memory was spliced apart. For the briefest of moments, a younger me ran to the welcoming arms of his adoptive father, taking deep pulls of the room’s scent as he was cuddled beyond reason. The ghostly image drew a faint smile to my lips. Those had been the good days.

My present-day father strode through the image, coming to embrace me, and I tried to match the enthusiasm of his back pounding.

“You’re looking good, my boy!” he said as he backed off. “The road must have been treating you right.”

“That it has,” I said, “but still, I’m glad to be home.”

“I’m sure you are,” Tanwadur said before gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Come, come! Sit down. Let me get you a drink.”

‘That’s not necessary,’ stayed poised on my tongue for a half-second before I pushed it back down.

“Thank you, Dury,” I said instead.

I perched on my relegated chair in as relaxed of a manner as I could manage, waiting while Tanwadur messed with glasses and bottles on a bookcase’s shelf.

“So…” he said as he poured two drinks. “How has the rest of Auden been over this last, dreadful winter?”

Awe-inspiring, as usual. The people of Auden had always found love and joy and what safety they could, even in their constant struggle for survival, and that had been no less true over the last few months of excessive snow. As always, I’d found it beyond beautiful.

But that wasn’t what Tanwadur wanted to hear, and for the moment, I lived to please him.

So, I said, “Barely getting by, as you’d expect. My people and I did what we could to help those who needed it, and that seemed to have made an impact in some of the nearby villages.”

With a satisfied nod, Tanwadur murmured, “Good, good.”

He brought me my drink, and as he sat, I made myself take a sip. It was awful stuff, this poor man’s beer, but I forced it down anyway.

Once he’d gotten settled and taken a few gulps from his own drink, Tanwadur leaned forward, setting the glass in front of him.

“So?” he said in a near whisper. “How did it go with the others?”

And this? This was the part of our reunion that I’d been dreading since melting snow had forced my hand into returning home.

“About as well as you’d expect,” I carefully said. “As usual, the other resistances balked at our offers of aid, so of course they were suspicious of your proposal for combining our efforts into one. Even with the proposal coming from me, most refused it, but fortunately, a few said they’d think about it over the coming spring. Perhaps we’ll see some progress then.”

I half-expected Tanwadur’s face to go bright red on hearing this, but instead, he grimaced.

“Stubborn bastards,” he said under his breath before leaning back in his chair.

For what seemed like forever, he stared off into space while tapping a finger on his desk, and all the while, I stayed still and silent, a waif-like ghost until he decided to address me again.

“Well, I can’t blame you for your failure, inconvenient as it might be,” Tanwadur eventually said, “but I should update you about why it might be a problem.”

Taking up his drink again, he took another big sip before slamming it back down, which almost made me flinch.

“Have you heard anything from the west coast since you left?” he said.

“Very little at first and then, nothing at all once snowfall started,” I said, “and for the last week, my people and I have done nothing but march and huddle in whatever shelter we could find.”

“So, you haven’t heard about the newcomers to our shore.”

…Newcomers? Had another batch of smugglers made their way across the Narrow Sea? Over the last few decades, that hadn’t happened much. In fact, I could only remember one instance of them making the crossing. Enforcer Teron had made sure they hadn't had as much success with getting back.

Slowly, I said, “I have not.”

The entire time, I watched Tanwadur’s face, looking for even the slightest hint about how he was feeling. Most of the time, things like this—the unexpected and potentially inconvenient—put him in a bad mood, and when that happened, I had to make a bigger effort at making him happy.

This time, he was giving me nothing. I couldn’t tell what the hell he was thinking, and given that, I made sure I hadn’t started squirming in my seat. I didn’t want to hear a repeat of ‘the many ways you must comport yourself’ or something similar right now.

“A couple of weeks after you left, a veritable army made landing in a nearby cove,” Tanwadur said, watching me as he spoke. “They were led by a man named Raimie.”

Wait.

Despite how problematic it could be, I couldn’t stop myself from interrupting.

“Raimie? That’s… I just met a man with the same name not a quarter mark ago! Ren brought him with her to greet me.”

At that, Tanwadur’s face darkened, and I quickly shut my mouth.

“I keep telling that girl she shouldn’t associate with that…”

Clenching his teeth, he fell silent for a moment before shaking his head.

“But that’s not important right now,” he said. “Tell me. What did you think of him?”

Oh… shit. He was asking for my opinion?

“I’m not sure. We didn’t spend much time together,” I said. “He only stuck around long enough to share his name before leaving.”

“Hmm.”

Fuck. Had that been the wrong answer?

After a supremely uncomfortable moment, Tanwadur shifted in his chair, which reminded me to relax. I couldn’t show any tension right now.

“In that case, I’ll give you some relevant information about the man so you can make your own judgment the next time you meet him,” my father said. “In the two and a half months he’s been here, Raimie has accrued several significant accomplishments to his name. Soon after arriving, he and his people stood against an army that Enforcer Teron had gathered to wipe them out. Not only did Raimie surmount this threat to his life, but soon after the battle was over, he killed the Enforcer. I had to confirm that fact several times on hearing it, but after seeing the bastard’s body for myself, I could no longer deny it. Most recently, he’s returned from successfully capturing Da’kul, helped in part by his defeat of its former master, of course. Still, that doesn’t lessen what he’s done, and he should be congratulated for his victory.”

Stunned, I worked through everything Tanwadur had said, fighting against a sinking stomach the whole time. Of course, I was… I was overjoyed to hear this news. Cerrin Forest and the southern half of Auden’s west coast wouldn’t have an Enforcer terrorizing them until another one was appointed. All those who lived out from under Tiro’s protection would go without the threat of Harvest until then too. Who wouldn’t find this news incredible?

On a personal level, though, I heard about the things that this man, Raimie, had done, and I shrank inside when comparing them to my own deeds. He’d done things that I’d only dreamed of trying, but I wasn’t jealous of this fact. More, I wasn’t sure how that would make Tanwadur react, and if he decided that I could have done all of these impossible—it bore repeating: impossible—things, then I could be in for hell.

Fortunately, he looked as calm as he had before announcing any of this, so I worked through my shock to give him the response he was so clearly waiting for.

“That all sounds good, something we could use to our own advantage,” I slowly said. “So, what’s the problem? There obviously is one.”

Nodding, Tanwadur simply said, “When on the other side of the Narrow Sea, Raimie found Shadowsteal.”

And I couldn’t help the cough that I released. Found Shadowsteal?

“He’s one of the exiled royals?!” I somehow said.

With another nod, Tanwadur steepled his fingers in front of his face, and I scrambled for a response, any response, that would return the weight of the conversation to him.

Raimie was part of the exiled royal family, meaning…. meaning…

Alouin, I couldn’t even think that impossible, terrible, glorious thought.

“That could be a problem,” I managed after a moment.

Or it could be the best thing that had ever happened to me. Time would tell which it was.

“Yes. It could be,” Tanwadur said. “You’ll need to be careful over the next few days, Kylorian. While Tiro most definitely doesn’t support this new contender for the throne, they also haven’t moved to throw him out of the city, as I anticipated they might. Not only that, but your brother and sister have already fallen under his sway. You’ll need to make sure the same doesn’t happen to you.”

I could only nod and murmur.

“Of course.”

“Once you’ve had enough time to form your own opinion of the man, I’ll expect to hear what you think,” Tanwadur continued. “We can only move forward with our own plans once we know your honest appraisal of him. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, sir. Of course it does.”

“Good. Other than that, nothing requires attention from either of us right now. I’m sure you’ll enjoy taking a break in the city, yes? Perhaps you can spend some time with those girls who’re always following you around with moon-eyes.”

“Yes. Maybe.”

“Or you could spend it with your siblings.”

“…Yes.”

A loud thunk drew me back into my head, sharply glancing at where Tanwadur had dropped his hand on the desk.

“There you are,” he said. “Are you all right? I didn’t mean to shock you so badly with this news.”

“I’m… fine,” I said before shaking myself. “It’s simply something I never thought would happen. Forgive me for losing focus like that.”

“Given what I said, it was to be expected,” Tanwadur said. “Still, I will need my study back at some point, so unless you have something you want to share with me…?”

No. No, I did not. I never would unless I must.

Rising from my seat, I smiled at my father before downing my drink in one go. I forced down the cough that wanted to shoot out of my mouth, smoothing out a grimace as I set the glass opposite my father’s.

“I’ll let you know how things go with Raimie,” I said. “Thank you for sharing this information. It will be incredibly helpful for our efforts in the coming days.”

“Yes, of course,” Tanwadur said. “Now…?”

Raising an eyebrow, he shooed me away, and I mechanically chuckled as I left the room.

An heir to the throne. Hell, there was a legitimate heir to the throne in Auden.

I didn’t know what to do with that.

Leaning a hand against a wall, I forced myself to think about it and think about it and think about it until I’d gotten through the free fall that the last quarter mark had wreaked in me. Until I could realize, if only dimly, that there was nothing I could do about it right now. Until I’d gotten settled and somewhat comfortable with that idea.

But then, I was centered again. I could go to the kitchen, happy to have the chance to speak with Eliade again. Happy and- and shocked that the conversation in the study hadn’t included a raised voice or the biting criticism that would have turned me into a child once more.

In the kitchen, Eliade was bustling about, making sure everything was spick-and-span. When she saw me come in, her face broke into a beaming smile, and she hurried to a basket on the room’s tiny table.

“I didn’t have much tonight, unfortunately. The refugees from Lindow have been cleaning me out over the last few weeks,” she said, “but there are sweet rolls in here and a jar of milk. You and your siblings might have to fight over who gets what.”

She handed me the basket, gently patting the blanket covering it, before returning to her chores.

“How did it go with your father?” she asked. “Was he pleased to see you?”

For once, I didn’t have to lie to her about this.

“He seemed well. Glad that I’m back,” I said. “I may be staying home for a while this time, which should make you happy.”

Grinning over her shoulder, Eliade said, “You know it does. I’ve never liked how often you leave, always trying to be the hero that Auden needs.”

That made me hiss in a breath, if only a little. No matter that it hadn’t been my idea to undertake the many humanitarian missions that I’d done over the last four years, I’d come to enjoy them. I loved Auden, perhaps more than Tanwadur might approve of, but in this, I didn’t care to conform to his will.

This kingdom was beautiful, and every time I was out there, whether fighting off Kiraak or delivering messages between towns or helping them bring in crops from meager fields, I was strongly reminded of this fact. The Audish people were brave and fierce and more loving toward one another than anyone would expect them to be, given all they suffered on a daily basis. Sure, they were also paranoid as hell and could become violent if pushed into said state, but beneath all of that, they maintained the innate goodness of humanity, and I wanted to see them grow and thrive, no matter how little good I could actually do for them.

In many ways, my ventures into greater Auden had been my saving grace over the last four years, much like my siblings and mother had been before then.

“Well?” Eliade said, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Don’t you and your siblings have your own tradition to complete?”

Ha! Tradition. I supposed we could call it that.

“We most certainly do!” I said as cheerily as I could. “Thank you for the food, mom. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it.”

“Have fun!” Eliade called, already distracted by her cleaning again.

I turned to leave.

Chapter 15: Sibling Solace

Kylorian

 

The route to the meeting point with my siblings was hidden and somewhat frustrating to traverse. It hadn’t always been that way, but as we’d grown up, what had once fit our child-sized bodies had become restrictive instead. While squishing my way through a final crevasse, I had to hold the basket overhead, hoping that it didn’t get stuck as the crevasse’s ceiling got lower. When it finally released both me and the basket, I let out the breath I’d been holding, shaking my head. Soon enough, I wouldn’t be able to get back here.

As soon as I’d caught my breath, I glanced over this cave, hidden behind the back wall of Tiro’s protecting mountain. Ren and I had found this place when we’d still had the time to explore our home. Before Tanwadur had revealed his plans for me, forcing Ren to take over everything I’d handled to that point. After Hadrion had come along, we’d spent a few weeks coaxing him out of his trauma-induced state by dragging him here with us, a technique that I’d once used with Ren. He’d spoken his first words to us here, asking about this city’s Kiraak in the quietest of whispers.

Today, he was much changed from that closed-off boy, bouncing to his feet as soon as he saw me. With an excited yip, he snatched the basket out of my hands, quickly scrounging through it before making a face.

“Two sweet rolls and some milk?! Is Eliade trying to starve me?” he said.

“You should be grateful that she had something for us in the first place, Had-had,” I said, “but don’t worry. I snuck something out here too.”

Reaching into a pocket, I pulled free a handful of strawberries that I’d grabbed while on the way here. They were underripe, showing green along the top of their bodies, but Hadrion still pounced on them like they were the best thing he’d seen all day, which only made me laugh. I remembered what I'd been like at his age. Sometimes, it had seemed like my hunger would never be satisfied.

“Remember to leave some for Ren,” I said before Hadrion could finish off the treat.

Wrinkling his nose, Hadrion stuck his tongue out before reluctantly putting two of the strawberries into the basket.

“Whatever you say, lover boy,” he said.

As I choked up, a flash of heat washed across my chest and arms.

“It’s not… like that,” I said. “Alouin, Hadrion. It’s not-”

Because yes, I had feelings for Ren. Always had, from the moment Tanwadur had brought her home, but those feelings weren’t what most people would think of when it came to true love. I wanted to be around Ren all the time, wanted to cuddle and hug and very rarely, kiss her. Her happiness brought me a joy that I’d never felt before, but I didn’t want anything more than this, and that wasn’t because she'd been designated my sister, if not by blood.

I’d never thought of Ren like that. She was my closest friend. My confidant, more so than Hadrion because Hadrion couldn’t know most of what I told Ren. To me, she was not my sister. So, that wasn’t the reason why the thought of anything more with her made me sick to my stomach. No. I had other reasons for never wanting to go near sex with her or anyone else.

Besides, Ren thought of me as her brother, and that made anything I might want between us impossible. Like I’d said, I only wanted her to be happy, so if I was to be only a brother to her, then that was what I’d be.

Laughing uproariously at the look on my face, Hadrion leaned against a wall before slumping onto the ground. He was still snickering as he pulled the basket into his lap, there to stay until Ren eventually joined us. He’d be the zealous guardian of our food, a baby bear that would maul anyone who tried to lay a finger on it without his permission.

“Sorry, Ky. I can’t help teasing you about that,” he said. “If you didn’t want me doing that, you shouldn’t have told me how you felt about her so many years ago.”

Growling, I kicked at the air next to his shin, which he jerked away from.

“Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have,” I said under my breath.

But I sank to the floor nearby, thunking my head against stone once I was settled. After a moment of comfortable silence, Hadrion cleared his throat.

“So. Was he awful to you?” he asked in a falsely cheerful voice.

Which made me want to cringe.

“Had-had, he’s never awful,” I said. “Sometimes, he just has a temper.”

Hadrion seemingly pierced through that lie in an instant.

“Mmhmm,” he doubtfully hummed. “And how are you feeling, now that you’ve met with him?”

Hell, Hadrion and his obsession with feelings. After weeks of dealing with people who’d rather pretend that such things never existed, it was always jarring to come back to him and his constant poking at them.

“I’m fine,” I said, continuing at his incredulous look. “Well and truly fine! I promise. Dury didn’t have much to say about my journey. He seemed a little too focused on this newcomer, Raimie, to do anything besides acknowledge that I was back.”

Wincing, Hadrion said, “Oh, Dury brought him up, did he? How many vindictive lies did he spew this time?”

So, Tanwadur didn’t like the newcomer, huh? I’d thought that might be the case, but it was nice to have confirmation of how I should act about this subject when around him.

“None, actually,” I said. “Dury only told me what Raimie has been doing since arriving here.”

“Interesting. Wonder what he’s trying to pull with that?” Hadrion said with a frown. “You know that Raimie and Ren are… friends, right?”

He looked at me so cautiously that I wondered what else he might be holding back.

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Ren introduced him to me back at…”

And I remembered everything that had happened when I’d come home. Curling over on myself, I hid my face in my hands.

“Oh, hell. Hadrion. The things I said to Ren!”

Scooting closer, Hadrion patted me on the back, leaving his hand there once he was done.

“What happened?” he said. “Come on, big bro! Spill the goods. I can’t wait to hear this week’s gossip.”

As usual, Hadrion’s utter ridiculousness pulled me free of my hands.

“Something I deeply regret already,” I said.

But then, I told him the story, wincing at his reactions the whole time, and once I was done, Hadrion tapped on his lip before pointing at me.

“So, your ‘inner Dury’ came out to play,” he said. “Wonder why it went after the Josenik incident? You know that’s her biggest issue.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I turned away, but I was only there for a moment before Hadrion was pulling me back.

“Hey, hey, I’m not criticizing! Alouin knows I have my own inner Dury ruining my day sometimes. I was just curious about the chosen subject,” he said. “Besides, you said Ren wanted you to let it go, right? So, let it go. For once, she’s the injured party in your constant battle of poking each other’s soft spots.”

“It’s not like we do that intentionally, or at least, I don’t,” I petulantly said.

Raising his hands, Hadrion said, “Fair enough.”

He backed up, glancing off to the side as he thought.

“Wonder what that made Raimie think of you,” he said. “He’s pretty nice, so hopefully, he won't care but still. I was hoping you two would get along. You need more kind people in your life, Ky.”

Fucking hell. Reaching over, I lightly shoved Hadrion.

“Would you stop trying to be the older brother in this relationship?” I said. “I don’t need anyone taking care of me.”

“Who’s taking care of whom now?”

Shooting upright, I twisted toward the entrance of our cave in time to watch Ren make her entrance. To the unenamored eye, she probably looked clumsy while wiggling through the entrance’s crack, but I couldn’t help smiling at her.

She was Ren, the fierce protector of Tiro and the leader of its many scouts. She was the closest person to me, the one who knew the full story of how I’d come to this city or… almost all of it. She was the one who’d talked me through rough moments after our father’s caustic lectures, although she didn’t know about those lectures’ intensity.

Ren knew that Tanwadur was tough on me—I’d be surprised if anyone in Tiro didn’t know that—but she had no idea of how tough he could be. I’d only told Hadrion about that, and that had only happened because he received similar treatment.

Twirling to a seat beside Hadrion, Ren snatched the basket out of his lap. On grabbing a sweet roll from it, she stuffed half of it into her mouth before either of us boys could protest it, and that, of course, had Hadrion pouncing on her.

I watched the two play fighting with a smile, enjoying every moment of them being solely themselves. Usually, Hadrion could get away with presenting himself to the world without masks, ignored as he sometimes was, but Ren and I? Not so much.

When Ren eventually gave up, handing over the rest of her sweet roll to her brother, Hadrion plopped to the ground before pausing. Wordlessly, he offered it to me, but I shook my head.

“I’m good. You two should finish the rest off.”

Shrugging, Hadrion started in on his hard-won bounty while Ren pulled the second roll out of the basket more slowly. In the end, though, she didn’t protest what she might see as ‘my sacrifice’, and I got to lean against the wall without having to argue with them. What a rare change of pace.

“So, how are you fixing things with Raimie, if you did mess things up with him?” Hadrion asked without preamble. “Given who he is, you’ll have to be at least a little friendly with him.”

Ren coughed up the bite she’d taken.

“You know about…?”

She fell silent when I glanced at her.

“Yes, Dury shared,” I said. “I’m planning on meeting with him for a drink in a few days, Had-had. Hopefully, we can work things through then.”

Hopefully. I was aware I hadn’t made a good first impression on the man who might be king, but all I could do to fix that was apologize and try to resolve things. It was all I’d ever been able to do when I lost my temper. Resuscitating my ‘inner Dury’, as Hadrion sometimes put it.

“Here’s hoping,” Ren said. “He’s… he’s a good man, Ky. I know you may doubt me when I say that-”

“I don’t,” I said, interrupting her. “Really, Ren, I don’t. You have good intuition about people. I’m just an ass sometimes. You know that.”

“Mm,” Ren said with her eyes fixed on her lap.

Damn. My comment truly had messed with her. So much for letting it go.

Before I could reassure her again, Hadrion cleared his throat.

“Anyway,” he said. “I think you’ve got a good plan. Give Raimie some time to cool off, if he’s mad for whatever reason, and then, get him drunk before talking to him. Should work wonders.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I’m not going to get him drunk. I’m going to talk to him, and that’s usually easier to do over something like drinks.”

Hadrion fluttered his hands as he dipped into as deep of a bow as his sitting position would allow him.

“As Tiro’s great negotiator says,” he solemnly intoned.

With a tongue click, I crossed my arms.

“Can we please move on? I don’t want to focus on this right now.”

“I’ll bet,” Ren said. “So, how was your meeting with-?”

“Fine!” Hadrion and I both said.

Pausing, Ren glanced between us before shrugging.

“All right,” she said. “What are we talking about, then? Or will we be sitting around, awkwardly silent for the rest of the evening?”

Snorting, Hadrion said, “As if.”

And I smiled at him. Always ready to bounce from serious to light-hearted, this one.

“Why don’t you two tell me what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone?” I said.

Halfway through a bite, Ren grunted while nodding.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” she said around her mouthful. “Had-had has quite a few stories to tell, don’t you?”

“I’ll have you know that-”

For a moment, I stopped listening. Much as I always wanted to run away from this place, much as I’d rather be anywhere else, I had to admit that one good thing was always waiting for me here: them. I loved them both, no matter how different that love might be for each individually.

So, I sat back and listened as they told their stories, and when Hadrion started nodding off, I pulled him sideways so his head was in my lap. He quickly fell asleep while Ren leaned on me, and before I knew it, she was snoring too. Just like every other time we’d done this together.

For a while, I sat there and listened to them breathing. For a while, I let them soothe me.

Chapter 16: Uncomfortable Conversations

Raimie

 

It had been a while since I’d been able to sit back, relax, and read, purely for my own enjoyment. Something always got in the way, whether that was a life-threatening emergency or another tedious duty, but today, I’d somehow finished my appointed tasks well before the sun could go down. So, for the first time in forever, I had a trashy novel held over my face, greedily sucking down the tale of some stupid kid and his adventures through a strange land.

Very few of the books I’d read dealt with tales that were solely speculative in nature, as it wasn’t a popular subject. In fact, most people I knew would consider this book a waste of paper and ink, but I’d found this one—a novel that had come straight from a tear—in Queen Kaedesa’s library, back when I’d been her captive. While there, I might have stolen it, hoping it could get me through many a tedious hour spent locked in a room, and in the haste of leaving her capital, I might have also forgotten that it was mixed in with my other belongings.

Whoops.

As expected, the last three days had been busy. I hadn’t had any time to check in with Ren or figure out drinks with Kylorian, too occupied instead with gathering the latest intel from my new spy network as well as reading over everything we’d learned at Da’kul.

It had been a lot of information, which was welcome. I definitely preferred it to the feeling of blindly flailing around in the dark, like I’d experienced at the fort, but that information had yet to settle in my mind. I wasn’t sure what in it, if anything, was useful for my people’s next steps, although there were a few minor tasks in the pile that might be helpful for the next few weeks.

And of course, I hadn’t heard from my new Hand yet. Shortly before I’d departed Da’kul, leaving Gistrick and his Zrelnach to guard it, Oswin had sent his subordinates to what he’d called ‘several strategically key positions’ throughout Auden’s west coast.

According to him, they shouldn’t be gone for long. Missions like this typically took a Hand member a week to complete, tops, and if this was true, their reports would be showing up on my desk in a couple of days.

That would give me enough time to sort through what I already knew, and maybe with those reports in hand, I could figure out where we should strike next.

But until then, I didn’t have much to do. Making sure my people were well taken care of certainly absorbed a good portion of my day, but besides that, I should be left to my own devices, leaving me with free time for the first time in…

I couldn’t remember when I’d last had free time, actually. Perhaps before I’d found Shadowsteal.

That was a depressing thought.

“Knock, knock,” someone said at the door.

Jerking upright, I slammed my trashy novel closed, hiding it under a pillow. Sure, I might not have been reading it for the last several minutes, too lost in my head again, but it had still been there, clearly visible, and I really didn’t want people to know what sort of content I enjoyed when I was alone.

“Raimie? Are you busy? I can come back.”

But I was already shaking my head.

“It’s ok, Hadrion,” I said. “Please, come in.”

I gestured toward the only other seat in this room—a stool in the corner—but Hadrion smiled, almost apologetically.

“Actually, I’m here for my brother,” he said. “Ky’s a bit busy right now, but he should have some free time tonight. He asked me to see if you wanted to get that drink.”

Cocking my head, I pointed at the kid.

“He sent you,” I said. “That seems…”

Hmm. Was it demeaning, like I was thinking, or was I off-base?

Hadrion must have seen something on my face because his eyes went wide.

“Oh, no!” he said. “I offered to do it.”

Flushing, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Kylorian told me how you two first met,” he continued. “So, I’ve maybe, kinda, sorta been watching for an opportunity to get the ball rolling on you two sharing a drink. I think you and Ky could be great friends, but he’s always been a little horrible at certain social interactions. I didn’t want your first meeting to leave a bad taste in your mouth.”

…What?

“I don’t know what Kylorian told you, but I don’t think badly of your brother, Hadrion,” I said. “I’ve only spent a few minutes with him. That’s not enough time to form a complete opinion.”

On hearing that, Hadrion slumped against the doorframe, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Oh, thank Alouin,” he said. “I was so worried…”

But then, he smirked at me, drawing himself upright.

“Sorry. Dramatic, I know,” he said. “Does that mean you’re ok with the ‘getting a drink’ plan for tonight?”

“Oh.”

I’d been looking forward to an evening of leisure but…

“Yes, a drink would be nice,” I said. “Did Kylorian say where and when we should meet him?”

Wrinkling his brow, Hadrion said, “We?”

“Yes…” I drawled. “Your brother mentioned something about you and Ren joining us. Do you not want to come? Or are you not old enough-?”

“No, no, no! I’m plenty old enough for a drink,” Hadrion said, shooting up a hand to stop me. “I just thought…”

Puffing out a sigh, he shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter what I thought,” he said. “I’m not sure exactly when Ky wants to meet, but if you like, we can head to his favorite bar now. I doubt he’ll be long.”

“All right.”

After making sure my book was still hidden, I stood up.

“Lead the way,” I said.

As we walked through Tiro, Hadrion kept up a steady stream of chatter beside me, occasionally calling greetings to the people we passed, and I listened with half an ear. He didn’t seem to mind my lack of commentary, more content to have a friend nearby, and that was fine by me.

Soon enough, we moved toward a bar that I knew of, even if it was one I’d never visited before. Unlike Sigemond’s tavern, this place’s regulars were known to be more… sophisticated, I supposed was the best word for it. We’d find no loud music in this place, and its owner kept a more refined selection of alcohol on hand, or the most refined he could get, at least.

Before we went inside, Oswin, ever my faithful shadow, stopped us, making us wait a few heartbeats as he scouted the place, but for once, I didn’t mind. Beside me, Hadrion giggled under his breath at the ‘silly soldier’, which I found hilarious for a number of reasons, and that was enough to make something that was normally annoying more enjoyable.

As soon as we were given the all clear, Hadrion and I entered the bar, and I made a beeline for a table in the corner while Oswin found a spot just out of hearing range. Places like this, where it would get steadily busier as the night wore on, made me uncomfortable. While in them, I liked keeping to myself, staying in an unobserved corner throughout the evening.

After Hadrion and I had sat down, we were frozen into an awkward silence for far too long before the kid loudly groaned, sprawling across the table.

“Ok. I can’t hold it in anymore,” he said.

Pulling his hands under his chin, he looked up at me.

“Can I ask you a strange question?”

That… was an odd thing to say.

“Sure. Why not?”

I was probably digging myself into a hole here, but what could I say? Hadrion was a sweet kid. I doubted he’d ask me anything too disconcerting.

Taking a deep breath, he puffed out his cheeks before sitting back up.

“Are you and my sister… together?” he asked. “It’s been driving me crazy for the last few weeks because you two look all lovey-dovey, gross with each other, but you also seem like you’re trying to hide it.”

…I didn’t know what he was talking about. Was this what Nylion had been referencing earlier, after Ren had called the two of us friends?

Nyl? I asked, hoping he could help.

But for once in my conscious life, my other half was absent. As if he was asleep and I didn’t know what to do with that idea.

Better to focus elsewhere.

Maybe if I clarified what Hadrion was asking about, it would help with answering him.

“What do you mean by ‘together’?” I said.

For a moment, Hadrion blinked at me before cocking his head with a quizzical look in place.

“You know… together,” he said.

Lifting his hands in front of his face, he interlaced his fingers, which didn’t explain things.

“I mean… yes. Sometimes, we hold hands like that,” I said. “Why would you want to know about that?”

Hadrion stared at me for an uncomfortably long time, but before that could become too intense, he leaned his elbows on the table.

“You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” he said.

Apparently, I was missing something obvious, so with one eye closed, I winced.

“Maybe?”

“How do you…?” Hadrion said. “You’re, what? Eighteen?”

“Nineteen, actually.”

Nodding, Hadrion said, “Yeah, ok. So, how do you…? But I guess if you did grow up in the wilderness, like Ren said… Even with that, though, your parents should have… Alouin.”

Breaking off, he rubbed his face.

“How did I get stuck with explaining this?” he said. “I’m fifteen! I’m the worst person to tell you about this, especially since you're older than me.”

Damn. I hadn’t meant to make him feel uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I said. “In fact, I have a friend who’s been meaning to take on the task for a few months. I think. But he keeps getting… distracted.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I brought the topic up in the first place.”

Slapping his hands to the table, Hadrion fixed me with a piercing look.

“Let’s start with the basics. Do you know what attraction is?” he said. “Or… how about sex?”

If the kid’s first question had made my insides go all tight and knotted, the second made my face flush with far too much scalding heat.

“Yes,” I stiffly said. “I’m well aware of the many different forms of… that. And attraction is self-explanatory. Sort of. At the least, I know the dictionary definition for it.”

“Ok…” Hadrion said with an odd look on his face. “Well, that’s what I meant when I asked if you and Ren are ‘together’. Are you attracted to her?”

Oh… all right. This was still a difficult question to answer, but at least I knew what Hadrion was talking about now.

“I like Ren well enough,” I said. “She’s nice to look at, but more importantly, she’s kind. And she makes me feel safe. I don’t… I don’t know. When I’m with her, it feels different, like nothing I’ve ever felt before, but also vaguely familiar. I don’t know how she feels about me, though.”

Hadrion was still giving me an odd look.

“Real romantic, Raimie,” he said before shaking his head. “Look. I’m asking if you love her, ok?”

…Love? What did that…?

“I… don’t know. I haven’t thought about it before,” I said. “And love is related to romance, right? What does that have to do with… sex and attraction?”

Gods, this conversation was making me so queasy. Throwing my hands over my face, I took deep breaths, trying to keep my stomach under control.

“I’m sorry,” I said into the resulting silence. “I don’t mean to be difficult. It’s only-”

Hadrion laid his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, it’s all right,” he said. “Clearly, this is a difficult subject for you, and I didn’t mean to stress you out. I was just curious, that’s all! But I think we’ve satisfied my curiosity enough for today, don’t you? Let’s focus on something else.”

Hesitantly, I peeked at the kid over my fingertips.

“You’re sure?” I asked. “I didn’t even answer your question, or at least, I didn’t answer it correctly.”

“You can’t answer that question incorrectly, Raimie. It’s a subjective-”

Making a face, Hadrion waved off the concern he must see on my face.

“Really. It’s not a problem. If anything, I’m sorry for bringing it up!” he said. “Here. Let me get you a drink. Ky can forgive us for starting without him, I think. What’ll you have?”

So… he wasn’t angry that I’d messed up what should have been a simple conversation?

Huh.

“I’d like a brandy. Please,” I said. “Thanks, Hadrion.”

“No problem!”

Winking at me, Hadrion scooted off the bench before heading toward the bar, and I watched him go with my head cocked. That kid was always breaking my expectations, usually in a good way too. Why should tonight be any different?

When he returned, Hadrion plonked my drink in front of me while lifting a glass of suspiciously clear liquid overhead.

“To all the times we humans have no clue what to do!” he said.

Laughing, I joined his drink in the air with my own.

“Cheers to that,” I said.

We lapsed into comfortable silence, watching the bar’s patrons as they arrived and left. Among them, I saw several people from the defeated group who’d arrived at Tiro three days ago, and unfortunately, that same heavy air was still hanging from them. Usually alone, they hunched over their drinks, slowly sipping from them.

All of which made me ache for them. Why couldn’t I see hurting people without feeling a compelling need to help them?

Fortunately, Kylorian soon arrived, taking my focus off of something I probably couldn’t fix.

Chapter 17: Resolving Things

Raimie

 

Muttering a greeting, Kylorian joined me and Hadrion with a glass already in hand, and sipping at it, he regarded me with a measuring look over its rim.

Setting the glass down, he said, “I’ve done my research on you since we met, Raimie. It seems you were right. Ren has become a decent judge of character. I should never have thought otherwise.”

…Done his research? Gods, what had he learned?

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said.

But I couldn’t keep caution out of my voice, which Kylorian must have heard. Laughing, he leaned back with a smile, taking another sip of his drink.

“Relax! I’m not going to bite you,” he said. “And why would I? From what I've heard, you’re the reason that things on the coast have been so quiet over the winter. Defeating an army of Kiraak? Taking down Teron, one of Doldimar’s oldest Enforcers and his most ruthless? Claiming his fortress for your own? I’d never think those accomplishments could be attributed to one man. Clearly, you know what you’re doing.”

I’d argue that point but…

“Thank you. It’s been a long journey,” I said, “but I have to correct you on one point. The things you’ve mentioned? I alone didn’t accomplish them. The work and sacrifice needed for each of them should be attributed to the people who’ve entrusted their lives to me.”

My big family. The ones I needed to keep safe. The ones I was doing all of this for.

“And that right there is one reason I’m not completely terrified of you,” Kylorian said. “If I hadn’t heard other stories about your generous character from my own people, I’d think you were invading our land with ill intent. Judging from your martial successes alone, most here would compare you to an Overseer or an Enforcer, only looking to expand your territory, but instead, what I hear from my people is that you may be an annoyance at times, but you’re also a welcome one. Given my people’s nature, that’s a high compliment indeed.”

At our side, Hadrion snorted.

“It really is,” he said under his breath.

Which I knew. In Tiro, I’d found a more reticent and sullen people than I’d ever met before. Even still, they were likeable in their own way. There was something to be said for a group that had somehow forged safety and happiness from a place where most would struggle to survive.

“Given everything I’ve learned about you, I-”

Kylorian paused for a moment, staring off into space, before making a face.

“Look. I know I’m a bit rough around the edges,” he said. “I’m quick to judge people, have a short temper at times, and am incredibly insecure about… a lot of things, actually. And I’m not too proud to admit those failings to you because- because…”

Sighing, he shook his head.

“Well, because you’re obviously here to change things, which I admire. And I’d like to help you with that, where I can. So, I’m hoping that by admitting my flaws, it’ll help you give me grace when I mess up. Like I did when I came home, trying to shame my sister into silence. That was incredibly wrong of me. I’ve already apologized to her, but I had to bring it up with you too. Let you know that I’m not always like that.”

As Kylorian fell silent, I cocked my head.

“I’m… confused,” I said. “Both you and Hadrion have spoken about our meeting as if anything you’ve done would make me hate you. Sure, I didn’t like hearing Ren talked about like that, but that was only one thing that happened, and you were clearly stressed when saying it. I don’t judge people when they’re at their worst. At the least, I should get to know all of them before doing something like that. Which is what I thought tonight was supposed to be about. Or was I wrong about that?”

Hadrion and Kylorian exchanged a glance.

“Told you,” the younger brother said.

Which only made the older one roll his eyes.

Facing me, he said, “I’m glad to hear that. Thank you for keeping an open mind. I haven’t met many people who can do that for long. Now. I believe we’re here to drink. So, what all are we having? And so help me. If you say anything other than water, Had-had, we will have words.”

Hadrion only grinned at the stern look his brother had shot at him.

“I know better than to drink anything else right now, Ky,” he said.

Of course. The suspiciously clear liquid was water. No wonder Hadrion had seemed awkward about joining me and Kylorian for a drink.

“And you?” the older brother asked.

Wincing, I said, “I have a brandy here, but then, that’s the only form of alcohol I can tolerate, and even it tastes awful. If you have any suggestions for something I might actually enjoy, I’d be thankful.”

“Brandy, huh?” Kylorian said with a smile. “You’re a man after my own heart, then! I’m sure I can help you find something more to your taste. Just give me a moment.”

He was gone for only a few minutes, and when he returned, he slid a mug of something deeply brown but not foamy my way. Warily, I sniffed at it before taking a small sip.

With my eyes shooting wide open, I said, “Oh, that’s good.”

Or at least, it wasn’t mouth-curdling, mind-numbingly terrible, but that was a vast improvement over everything else I’d had.

Chuckling, Kylorian said, “I thought you might like it.”

“Yes, as usual, you are the connoisseur of all things brandy, Ky,” Hadrion said.

After we took a moment to enjoy our drinks, I cleared my throat.

“So, I was wondering about the mission you mentioned a few days ago,” I said. “I understand if you can’t talk about it, what with your security concerns, but I’ve been hearing all about your exploits over the last few months, and I have to say. I’ve been impressed. I’d love to hear about this one too.”

Making a face, Kylorian uncomfortably shifted in place.

“I can certainly share if you want to hear about it, but you probably won’t find this mission impressive,” he said. “It failed pretty horribly.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it anyway?” I said. “Maybe there’s some way I can help.”

Grimacing, Kylorian said, “I doubt it.”

He paused, and with an earnest look in place, Hadrion nudged his brother, making him sigh.

“I was out in Auden, trying to consolidate the other resistances,” he said. “Tiro isn’t the only place that fights against the Dark Lord. Tanwadur and I were hoping that if we worked together, we could put up a greater defense against him, but the others weren’t as amenable to that idea as we’d thought.”

He looked away.

“They… know certain things… about me, all part of Dury’s plan, and that’s made talking with the other resistances difficult.”

Certain things…? No. Hang on.

Leaning back in my seat, I crossed my arms with a hum on my lips.

“Do you think these other resistances would be more receptive to you and Tiro, if they knew you’d wiped out the Kiraak in this region of Auden?” I asked.

Kylorian went very, very still.

“But… that’s your accomplishment,” he said. “You… you’d be willing to give us the credit for your victory?”

Shrugging, I said, “Why wouldn’t I? It would put Tiro in a more advantageous position, yes? And we’ll need all the help we can get if we’re going to defeat Doldimar. I certainly don’t need the glory of a victorious battle. In fact, I’d rather if it were used to strengthen the free people of Auden. Because that’s the point, right? Freeing Auden. Making this country less of a horror show for its people. Yes?”

Seemingly shocked into silence, Kylorian stared at me for an uncomfortable length of time. I’d started squirming in place before he found his voice again.

“Damn,” he softly said. “You’re making all of this so much harder for me.”

Wait. What?

Pulling my hands under the table, I reached for Ele and Daevetch, hoping all the while that I wouldn’t have to use them. Not only did I not want to hurt Kylorian or Hadrion, but Bright and Dim had been rather… absent since we’d taken Da’kul. I could feel my sources on the fringe of my awareness, but still, I had yet to see my splinters, which was worrying me a little. For now, I’d been chalking their disappearance up to the fact that I’d closed another tear while they’d been nearby. They’d vanished for quite a time after the last time I’d done that.

Maybe Kylorian saw how much I’d gone on the defensive because he lifted his hands in reassurance.

“I’m sorry. That must have sounded ominous,” he said. “It’s only…”

Sighing, he looked away.

“My father told me about who you are, Raimie. A descendant of the Audish kings,” he said, “and that’s yet another issue that could cause complications in this relationship.”

As he waved between me and him, Kylorian peered at me out of the corner of his eye, and slowly, I released my hold on Ele and Daevetch, bringing my hands into view again.

“Why would my ancestry be a problem for you?” I said. “From how you’ve been treating me, I’d guess that you don’t despise me for my family’s past.”

As I grimaced, Kylorian jerked his head toward me with his mouth in an O.

“Not at all!” he said. “I- I couldn’t! I…”

Slamming his eyes closed, he took a deep breath before nudging Hadrion.

“I’ll get us refills,” he said. “Could you… explain things to him? Please?”

Hadrion gently patted his brother’s arm.

“Sure thing, Ky,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Awkwardly, Kylorian heaved himself off of the bench before wandering in an almost dejected manner toward the bar. Oo… what had I stepped into?

When I raised my eyebrows at Hadrion, he made a face.

“So, my family’s a little weird, and that’s not just because all of us kids are adopted,” he said. “Ren’s our father’s darling, right? He dotes on her whenever she’s around. I get the overprotective parents routine because I’m the youngest and because… I come from somewhere not very nice.”

He paused for a moment, swallowing hard.

“But Ky…” he soon continued, “Ky has a unique relationship with our father. Ever since Dury first found him, he’s been training my brother to be… well. To be a king, in essence. That’s been Ky’s whole life, from the time he was young, and it’s made things difficult for him, in a lot of ways.”

Frowning, I said, “Why would Tanwadur do that? Does Kylorian have some claim to the throne? I didn’t think anyone from my family stayed in Auden after Doldimar’s conquest.”

“Yes, that’s true. No legitimate members of your family stayed,” Hadrion said, “but the last king had a brother. One that people liked to pretend didn’t exist. That brother stayed behind when the rest of your family left. Centuries ago, he was the one who first established Auden’s many resistances, or he did so before the Dark Lord captured him.”

“And that brother had children, then?” I guessed. “Kylorian’s one of his descendants?”

Nodding, Hadrion said, “That’s it in a nutshell.”

But he immediately fell silent, carefully watching me.

I didn’t know why he was doing that. In fact-

“This is great!” I said. “I’ve always thought it was silly that the average citizen doesn’t get a choice in who leads them. Why would you leave it up to chance like we do? But this way, the people of Auden can decide which of us takes the throne! It would have to come after we defeat Doldimar, of course, but that could be a good thing too. Give us time to decide how we should do it and-”

Heart of my heart, you are missing another important bit.

Rapidly blinking, I forced myself not to visibly react to Nylion’s intrusion into my stream of thoughts. While Hadrion stared at me with confusion, I turned my attention to my other half.

What do you mean? I said.

An internal sigh was followed by: If Kylorian is truly descended from an estranged member of the Audish royal family, that means he is your cousin, if distantly. He is family.

Oh.

I… hadn’t considered that. Why did that idea feel so…?

I wasn’t sure how it felt.

Maybe that is why we recognized him, though, Nylion hurried to say.

Potentially.

But then, I had to return my attention to the world outside of my head. Kylorian wearily plopped onto the bench beside his brother, pushing a drink toward me, and I accepted it with a grin.

“So, given that you’re family, Hadrion and I were discussing how we might establish some method of letting the people decide who will become king, once this mess is finally cleaned up,” I said. “Any thoughts about that?”

Kylorian paused with his mug halfway lifted to his mouth. Licking his lips, he set it back down with his brow furrowed.

“Letting… the people choose?” he said. “You’d… you’d be willing to do that? Just… relinquish the throne?”

Snorting a laugh, I said, “Oh gods, yes. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not denying that I must play a kingly role for my own people right now. They’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m not getting a choice about that. But king of Auden? Honestly, I’d rather not. Plus, like I was saying, everyone should get to choose who leads them, no matter who they are.”

Tipping my glass and head toward Kylorian, I took a sip of my drink, relishing the slightly less than awful taste of the brandy he’d chosen for me.

“So… you’re suggesting that we compete for the crown,” Kylorian slowly said. “That’s…”

“I think it’s a great idea!” Hadrion interrupted. “It’d keep Dury happy but also—I don’t know—leave it up to chance, sorta. Maybe you could focus on something other than preparing to be king for once.”

“Huh.”

Once again, Kylorian seemed dumbstruck, but after a few heartbeats, he sharply nodded.

Extending his hand to me, he said, “I look forward to it, then. Let the Audish decide who will best lead them.”

So, they did shake hands here? Was it only done when making agreements instead of greetings?

Whatever.

Taking Kylorian’s hand, I firmly shook it. Once I’d released him, we both slumped into our seats, and Kylorian burst into laughter.

“You were right, Had-had,” he said. “I do like him.”

“Told you,” Hadrion said.

With a smirk, I said, “I’m glad to hear that, but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. We still have a big, bad Dark Lord to push out of power before we can ever get to the succession question, right?”

“Fair enough.”

Sighing, Kylorian slung his arm to rest on the bench, behind his brother.

“I look forward to helping you with that,” he said, “but it can wait until tomorrow, yes? For now, let’s simply drink and enjoy one another’s company.”

“I can heartily agree to that,” I said, lifting my mug in the air toward my companions.

“Same,” Hadrion said.

He got halfway out of his seat to clunk his drink against mine, which subsequently spilled water all over the table. As he went red-faced, apologizing all the while, Kylorian and I good-naturedly ribbed him while hurrying to get things dry.

Perhaps… perhaps the older brother is not so bad, Nylion whispered inside. Whatever I saw in him the other day, it is not present now, and… it would be nice to have someone kind in the family for once.

I hardly paid attention to what he’d said, too busy teasing Hadrion for his spill. I might have far too much on my plate right now—how the hell should I choose where to attack next?—but Kylorian had made a good point. For now, I could let myself have this. I could take the time to relax with people I’d come to like. I could… be a friend. Not a king. Not a commander of armed forces. Not a primeancer. Not a chosen one of mysterious foretelling.

Just a friend.

Adventures of the Hand 1.1

Little

 

After waiting in a small copse of woods near the Birthing Grounds for six hours, I’d started getting frustrated with the group I was planning on infiltrating. For Alouin’s sake, dawn had been two hours ago! How long did it take to break camp and march the half-mile to this position?

I’d been tracking a group of Conscripted for the last day or so, following them after they’d finished cleaning up after the Harvest of a small village. What I’d seen there had been sticking in my brain since then, and while I couldn’t blame these Conscripted for what they’d done—they’d been putting horrendously injured people out of their misery—I wasn’t looking forward to what I might find at the end of the group’s return trip.

It was only another reason that I wanted them to show up. Better to reach their destination and scout the area as soon as possible. Only then could I return to somewhere full of sane people, even if they also weren’t exactly… safe.

Soon enough, I saw the Conscripted group on the horizon—finally—and once they’d reached my position, I slipped into the column toward the end, watching the others to see if anyone had noticed my addition. Fortunately, no one made a commotion, which was good. Given where we were headed, I very much wanted to enter the place with my weapons on me, rather than as one of the prisoners I’d occasionally seen being dragged by.

And on thinking about that, I almost stopped short. Here I was, once more doing something I’d sworn I’d never try again. I hadn’t been beholden to anyone since the Southern Kingdoms…

Well. Swearing my loyalty to Raimie would be worth it if it meant I got to work for a primeancer. Stories of those legendary magic users had kept me afloat when I was a kid. Before sleep could soothe me at night, I’d pretend that Ele primeancers were coming to my rescue or that I’d somehow attracted a Daevetch splinter. Imagining what I’d do to former clients if I had Daevetch at my command still kept me calm on nights when nightmares woke me up in a cold sweat.

That wasn’t a good subject to think about right now, though.

Now that I was here, I wasn’t sure what act I’d need to play for the brief time I was with these people. That could become especially problematic if they noticed my presence before we arrived.

Not that I was especially worried about that. For the most part, the Conscripted soldiers looked tired and tensed all to hell, a bearing I was well acquainted with.

That made sense, though. From what I understood, the Birthing Grounds, which Middle had assigned me to infiltrate, was one of the most horrific places in this kingdom.

When Middle had outlined the missions that the Hand would soon have to complete last week, I’d jumped on this one, precisely because of the place’s nature. While the other spies could certainly handle horror, I was the best fit for situations like this. Pointer, Thumb, and Ring might deal with their own ghosts from the past, sure. Still, they didn’t understand certain things about life. Not like I did.

So, here I was, about to walk into another of the worst places in the world, and while it might scare the shit out of me, I was also prepared to do it.

Hopefully.

As the group around me slowed down, I spied the edge of a gaping pit ahead, a sheer drop-off with no way into it. I’d been scouting around it for long enough to know that this was true.

Meaning, yes. I had no clue how this group of Conscripted planned on reaching the pit’s floor. The Conscripted weren’t Kiraak, those unnerving monsters who could fall from a height like this and somehow keep walking.

But that had been the point of infiltrating this group. This way, maybe I could figure out a means of entering the Birthing Grounds. That was what King Raimie—

I made a face at that thought. Kings and Little Lords and all other men of power could get annihilated in the void, so far as I was concerned.

—would need if he decided to attack this place.

When we reached the cliff’s edge, a rumble shook the ground, and as it gradually fell quiet, a man with black eyes hopped over the edge. While some of the Conscripted began filing into the space he’d left behind, he and the first of these soldiers stepped aside to talk.

But then, I reached the edge and had to stop short. The awful and awe-inspiring sights in front of me would allow nothing less.

Below my feet, a stone staircase led to the pit’s floor. Holes beneath each of this staircase’s steps showed where the material required for it had come from, and as if to further defy rational explanation, no mechanism joined each of them to the cliff, not any that were visible at least.

At the staircase’s base, the Birthing Grounds spread for a solid mile. Round and smooth, it looked like an ancient god had scooped a bowl from the earth, there to store water for its pet humans.

If water had ever filled this pit, it had long since drained away, leaving behind the perfect setting for a city dedicated to the transformation of decent and ordinary people into Kiraak. Squat buildings, made of stone and wood, were scattered across the pit’s floor, barracks for the Kiraak and Conscripted stationed here. Armored people strolled between these buildings, and even from up here, I recognized the black vines crawling under the skin of those who sauntered below my feet.

Shuddering, I choked down the summoned image of one such man loping toward me, even after his belly had been ripped open. The beach battle from months ago had most assuredly impressed the Kiraak’s unnatural abilities into my mind. Was I ready to walk into a den of such monsters, considering how difficult they were to kill?

Although… I supposed that my wants and desires about this didn’t matter anymore, did they? I’d have to go in there regardless.

At the center of the Birthing Grounds, a tall fence surrounded a crowd of people. From this far away, I couldn’t tell if they were Conscripted, prisoners, or Kiraak, but I could definitely see how much they’d shied away from the building inside that fence. The small, two-story home wouldn’t have looked out of place in Daira or any other human settlement, but here, among barracks and a shuffling Kiraak horde, the pleasant homestead screamed wrong.

I must not be the only one who felt that way. As I watched the scene, a pair of figures emerged from the house, seizing someone huddled by the fence, before dragging them inside. That helpless person’s screams reached me clear as a bell, even from as far away as I was .

I’d seen similar sights while scouting, of course. Even still, they had yet to stop freezing my heart over every time they happened.

Beside me, someone cleared their throat before saying.

“How long do you plan on wasting my time, boy?”

And as if in concert with that, another voice RUMBLED in my head.

You survived your first night. Good. We’ll see how you do the next time I visit.

It took everything I had to face the owner of that present-day voice. The lack of emotion in it yanked my stomach into a pinprick in my abdomen while squeezing my throat closed, and the man who’d spoken must see this. As he smirked, a shine passed through his black eyes.

“Forgive him, my better,” another person said. “He’s a new recruit. Hasn’t seen the Birthing Grounds’ glory before.”

Oh… shit. That was right. I was supposed to be infiltrating this place, not standing frozen like a little kid before a predator.

“He’s right,” I said. “Please, forgive me.”

And I bowed low, but as I did, I also directed a knowing smile at the black-eyed man. I knew what the hungry look that had flashed through his eyes meant, and I refused to let it cow me. Not anymore.

Fortunately, the black-eyed man seemed amused by my display. Huffing, he waved a hand.

“Well, now you’ve seen it. So, join your comrades below,” he said before pausing to half-smile at me, “and hope that I don’t drop you both while you descend.”

…Drop us?

At my side, the Conscripted who’d rescued me said, “Your threat will make us swift, my better.”

And it did. I raced the other man to the pit’s floor, sure with every step that stone would somehow give way beneath me. I wasn’t sure how these stairs were under the black-eyed man’s control, so as soon as my feet were planted on solid ground, I spun to watch that man make his descent.

After leaving each step behind, he waved a hand, and a stream of jet-black gloom eagerly rushed to it. With it seemingly the energy that had held the stairs aloft, each step flopped to the wall in its absence. Once he’d bounced onto the pit’s floor, the black-eyed man strode past me and my rescuer, not once looking at us.

Swallowing hard at the sight of that magical display, I said, “Thanks. Seems I owe you.”

With a half-smile, the Conscripted who’d rescued me scanned me from top to bottom.

“Yeah, you most certainly do,” he said. “You’ve got to be new here. Everyone knows they should avoid Enforcer Adrinosk’s notice, when possible.”

An Enforcer?

“Shit,” I said under my breath. “Seems I owe you more than I thought.”

It also seemed that with this, I might have unintentionally fallen into the role I’d play while in this enemy camp. Normally, a new recruit wasn’t the best one to play because most of the time, no one wanted to take an inexperienced fighter under their wing, but since I’d already found a ‘mentor’, I’d play the role to the best of my ability. Or until the situation required me to become something else, of course.

“So, when did you join up?” the Conscripted asked. “I don’t remember recruiting you before the Lindow Harvest. In fact, I don’t remember recruiting you at all.”

Of course he didn’t. Why would he, given what I’d done not a quarter mark before?

After glancing around for eavesdroppers, I leaned toward the other man.

“That’s because I joined on the road,” I whispered. “Figured I’d have a higher chance of conscription if I showed enough initiative to reach the Birthing Grounds without notice.”

This made the other man bark a laugh.

“Oh, I like you!” he said. “I hope our Captain doesn’t kill you. If he doesn’t, watching you bumble about should be entertaining.”

Huffing, I crossed my arms.

“I don’t plan on dying,” I said. “That’s why I’m here, yeah? Because becoming a Conscripted in our Dark Lord’s army has the highest survival rate in Auden.”

“True.”

As if to join me, the Conscripted soldier leaned forward as well, lifting a hand to his mouth.

“Unless you can find a rebels’ haven, that is,” he whispered behind it.

I jerked back, fighting to keep my face neutral, but this just made the soldier laugh.

“I’m joking, kid!” he said. “Come on, now. The others are probably checking in with our Overseer by now. We don’t want to be late for that meeting. Trust me.”

When he took off, I trotted behind him, soaking in the sights like a wide-eyed kid, or at least, that was how I hoped it would appear. In actuality, I was scanning every bit of this place, looking for tactical advantages.

So far, attacking the Birthing Grounds seemed like a bad idea, no matter how tempting cutting off Doldimar’s supply of Kiraak might be. Sure, Raimie and his soldiers would have the high ground here, but in this singular case, that advantage wouldn’t help much. If Ramie wanted to use the Birthing Grounds for his own purposes, his army couldn’t heavily damage the camp, and without a way to descend the cliffs, a battle for it would quickly turn into a siege. Other arms of Doldimar’s military would come to crush Raimie’s army long before they could starve out the Birthing Grounds’ defenders. Of course, Raimie might want to bombard this place into oblivion, but that didn’t seem like his style.

Unfortunately, I didn’t see a way to attack this place directly, but honestly? It wasn’t my job to come up with battle plans. I’d leave that task to people who were better at it, namely Raimie. Instead, I’d stick to my areas of expertise: observing and playing roles.

To align with that, I soon asked my guide, “Where are we going?”

“Raelinov’s quarters. He stays with the other Overseers here,” the Conscripted soldier said. “Though hopefully, he’ll receive another assignment soon. I can’t stand this place.”

Cocking my head, I said, “Why?”

Spinning to face me, the Conscripted soldier frowned.

“Because being here is a constant reminder of what will happen to us if we fail,” he said.

At that, I must have shown an appropriate amount of distress because the other man crookedly smiled.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ve accidentally joined one of the best Conscripted squads in the Dark Lord’s army. We rarely fail our missions.”

“Good to know,” I said.

So, along with every other problem he’d find here, Raimie might encounter substantial resistance in the fight for this place as well.

“Oh! Is there anywhere I’m not allowed to go while we’re back at base?” I said, as if the thought had just occurred to me.

Shrugging, the Conscripted soldier said, “The whole of the Birthing Grounds is open to everyone, but… well. If I were you, I’d stay away from that house at the center.”

That had seemed obvious… but still, I asked.

“Why?”

Shuddering, the Conscripted soldier said, “Just take my advice and stay away from it.”

He faced forward, cutting off further questions, but for the moment, I didn’t have any more. As soon as I could get away, my next destination would be the fence-enclosed house that I’d seen before. It seemed likely that I might find secrets there, given how much a soldier stationed here had advised against visiting it.

Leaving squat barracks behind, the soldier and I advanced on a bunch of black specks, dotting the pits walls. These quickly revealed themselves as cave entrances, and on realizing that, I suppressed a disappointed sigh.

I’d hoped that maybe with catapults, trebuchets, and a laughable amount of time, Raimie’s people could bombard the Birthing Grounds into submissions—given their leader’s approval, of course—but if the enemy also had caves to escape into, that idea was worthless. Considering that, Raimie would be left with the option of a siege, which… well. I’d already gone through why that would be a bad idea.

Ahead of us, the group of Conscripted that I’d joined was waiting, and one soldier stepped out from among them.

“You’re late, Lieutenant,” he barked. “How did you fall so far behind?”

Trotting to a stop, my ‘mentor’ said, “Unfortunately, our newest recruit caught Adrinosk’s eye, Captain. I decided to help him out, so now, he owes me a favor. A big one.”

Oh… so, he was this squad’s lieutenant? That could be useful.

Scrunching his face up, the captain said, “I don’t remember recruiting anyone recently, and I certainly don’t remember doing that for someone so scrawny.”

Stopping in front of him, I ducked into a short bow.

“You picked me up in Lindow, sir,” I said, “and I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. I believe you said something about ‘usefully expendable’ when we met.”

The captain stared at me for so long that the moment painfully stretched, but I did nothing to provoke a response. I wasn’t worried about what the he'd say. Even if he called me out on my lie, I’d have no trouble with getting around the handful of soldiers standing between me and open air, and once I was outside, getting lost in the crowd should be simple enough. So, I wasn’t in any danger yet.

“Perhaps you’re right,” the captain begrudgingly said. “We can discuss it later. For now, our Overseer’s waiting for us. Stay in the back, recruit, and don’t say anything.”

“Yes, sir!”

As I loosely saluted, the captain rolled his eyes, pushing through the rest of the squad to open a set of doors.

“You are so lucky,” the lieutenant said under his breath. “I thought for sure he’d strike you down. Captain must be in a good mood. He doesn’t like lying very much, even ones as fantastic as yours.”

Good to know.

Still, I shrugged. In the previous, I’d only said what had had the highest probability of success. A long, long time ago, I’d learned how to read people, so putting that skill to use here had been simple.

Following their captain, the twenty or so people in this squad filed into a large room. While no furniture occupied it, maps painted the walls. Pins were poked through their parchment, marking towns and other clusters of humanity. Two green ones were jabbed through villages on the map’s edges while a smattering of blues and yellows decorated the middle. A big, red pin conspicuously marked the recently Harvested town of Lindow.

Overseer Raelinov was studying one of those maps, refusing to move even after the doors had slammed shut. While my squad waited upon his pleasure, I shoved my way into the center of their cluster, blatantly disobeying orders. If I’d stayed in the back, I wouldn’t have had a decent view of this meeting’s proceedings, and I’d need that.

I hoped I could get something useful out of it.

Adventures of the Hand 1.2

Little

 

Soon enough, the Overseer faced the Conscripted squad, which made me gulp. The man’s skin was barely visible over the sheet of Corruption bulging beneath it.

“Report,” he said.

The squad’s captain took a step forward, crossing his arms behind his back.

“Per your orders, we’ve been tracking a group of rebels for the last few weeks, and as you suspected, they led us to several pockets of resistance,” he said. “We wiped out any of them who were foolish enough to remain in place after their visitors departed. A small number of them fled before we could join with the Kiraak to attack, but besides those minor exceptions, the rebels were slaughtered to a man.”

“This is good news,” Raelinov said with a grim smile. “And what of those you followed? Did you eliminate them as well?”

As the captain stiffened, an uneasy air fell over the room, which confused me. This squad had done as they’d been ordered, so they should be fine. Right?

Unless this was one of those situations where the person in power expected more from his subordinates than mere competence, which if it was...

Well. This squad's captain might be fucked. I hadn't had to deal with circumstances like that in a while, and I wasn't looking forward to the possibility of facing them again now.

Stiffly, the captain said, “No, my better. That group managed to elude us.”

“I see.”

But then, the Overseer sighed, waving as if to shoo away an annoying bug, and some among the squad relaxed.

“Oh well,” he said. “I’d hoped for… but no. Such a task would have been impossible for a squad of your capabilities, and if I’d added Kiraak to your ranks, those people would have smelled them from a while away.”

Still, the captain remained a statue, even as the Overseer returned to studying his maps. Maybe this would turn out ok...?

“Is there anything else you wish to add?” Raelinov asked.

Cautiously, the captain said, “No, my better. May we-?”

“Are you sure?” the Oversee interrupted.

“I-!”

Slumping, the captain rubbed his face before turning to the squad. He met his lieutenant’s eyes, giving a nod that the other man returned, but then, he faced forward once more with a straight back.

“No, my better,” he said.

“Hmm.”

Oh, shit. The tone in the Overseer's voice...

Spinning in place, that intimidating man strode forward until he was nose-to-nose with the captain.

“I see you have a new addition to your squad,” he said.

With a deep sigh, the captain closed his eyes.

“Yes, my better,” he said. “He’s apparently from Lindow.”

“I see,” Overseer Raelinov said. “That’s good. It means your presence won’t be missed.”

Snatching the captain by the throat, Raelinov squeezed his hold. Corruption-free fingers clawed at that black-vined stranglehold while the captain struggled to unsheathe his sword, but twisting the weapon away from him, Raelinov claimed it as his own before shoving it through the captain’s body. Its bloody tip was thrust from between his shoulder blades, and as a strangled gurgle came from the man, I- I-

The dagger’s point plunges into the child’s chest, and as instructed, I continue laying on her hips, holding her down as she breathes her last and blood trickles from the stone slab to the drains on the floor.

And all I can think is: it wasn’t me this time. I didn’t get picked. Not me. Not cowardly, stupid, undeservedly lucky me.

FUCK that memory, straight to the void!

Fiercely biting my lip, I struggled to swallow the noise my body wanted to make. Even if I’d never expected to find something like it here, I was well aware of how disastrous any noise would be in this situation, and the Conscripted around me seemed to know this as well. They kept their eyes fixed forward as their captain’s limbs stopped twitching and Raelinov tossed the body to the side.

“Which one of you is this man’s lieutenant?” he snapped.

Without expression, my ‘mentor’ stepped forward, and the Overseer nodded.

“Were you aware that the man who would call himself king, Kylorian, was leading the group that you were tracking?” he asked.

With a tight jaw, the lieutenant said, “We learned of it after he and his people escaped us, my better.”

“Good. You see?”

Raelinov patted the lieutenant’s shoulder.

“Telling the truth isn’t so hard, now. Is it?” he asked.

“Not when it’s in service to the Dark Lord,” the lieutenant said through gritted teeth.

“Too true,” Raelinov said with a giggle. “And so, it appears you’ve earned a promotion, Captain. Enjoy your new post. You and your squad have no further assignments for the foreseeable future, so go forth and enjoy the Birthing Grounds’ comforts, such as they are.”

“Thank you, my better,” the lieutenant said.

As one, the Conscripted around me bowed low while I followed their lead, and once finished, their new captain led us into open air. Silently, they headed for a nearby barrack, and while I followed them, I wasn’t sure if I should keep doing that.

What had happened back there… I might be used to violence like that—I had to be, considering my job—but it had been so unexpected, coming out of the blue, and that… that…

It reminded me of life in the Southern Kingdoms. Hell, I needed to get out of here. I couldn’t be in a place like that again, no way in…

But wait. I wasn’t trapped in this place like I had been back then. I was here to help free this land, giving its people the chance that I’d been given so long ago.

So, for a while, I kept following the squad, even if now would be a great time to investigate that fenced-in home. These soldiers were distracted enough that they might not notice me missing.

If anyone did notice that, though, it would probably cause a stir. No matter that Raelinov had probably meant to kill that captain even if he and his squad had done everything perfectly, my presence in that room had been the excuse the Overseer had used to murder that poor man. Who knew how his squad felt about me now?

Soon enough, we reached their barrack, and after its door had swung shut with me on the other side, I waited to see if anything would happen, but when a few minutes had crawled by without interruption, I tentatively decided that these people must not care about me, which came as a relief. Dealing with twenty vengeful soldiers wasn’t something I ever wanted to do.

Right when I’d been about to depart, though, the door opened, and the new captain poked his head outside.

“You,” he said, pointing at me. “Inside. Now.”

Shit.

A single, open room made up the barrack’s interior, and supplies were lined along its walls. The squad was circled around the center of the room, and when I strode inside, the beefiest of them leaned against the door with his arms crossed.

Just like that, I’d been surrounded, not that I’d have preferred my other options right now. Leading this new captain on a chase through the Kiraak-infested Birthing Grounds would have been conspicuous, and I couldn’t have lost the man as quickly as I would have with the head start I’d had in the caves.

So, I nervously cleared my throat.

“I’m sorry about your captain,” I said. “I didn’t mean-”

“We don’t blame you for Ibelfer’s death,” the new captain interrupted. “Trust me. That was merely our bastard Overseer asserting his dominance, yet again. No, we’re here to decide if we’re going to keep you or not.”

Well, that was a relief. Still, I had to make a good impression on this squad.

So, I said, “I see. Well, my name is-”

Shaking her head, a woman said, “No names. If we keep you, you’ll be Private and nothing more. Names have power, after all.”

Sucking in a breath, I froze on hearing the repetition of that phrase before shaking myself.

“Yes,” I quietly said. “Yes, they do.”

But then, I frowned.

“But didn’t you just call your captain by name?”

Shifting in place, the burly man by the door said, “He did. Captain, can we please get this over with? We’re not planning on keeping him, right? His ignorance is irritating.”

“You were just as annoying when you were a private, Corporal,” the new captain said. “Or have you forgotten?”

While the corporal mumbled under his breath, his captain turned to me.

“If you stay with us, kid, and you survive long enough to see a new recruit conscripted, you’ll tell that soldier your name,” he said, “and when you die, we’ll learn your name from them. It’s easier that way. No personal attachments.”

I slowly nodded, surprised by the practicality of this tradition. Sure, joining a Conscripted squad might have a higher survival rate in this kingdom, but it was still Auden, a land where living to one’s third decade was considered lucky.

It might also be why none of these people seemed as shaken as they should be about their captain’s death. They certainly didn’t look happy, mind you! Just not… in shock.

Shaking my head, I asked, “So, how do I prove myself to you?”

At that, most of the squad cocked their heads or narrowed their eyes, which only made me sigh.

“What?” I said. “You said that you haven’t decided if I’m worthy enough to be in your squad. So, how do I prove my worth? Do I need to smuggle weapons into enemy territory?”

In an eyeblink, a full-length dagger and three throwing knives were in my hands.

“Or should I prove that I know how to use them?”

I flung a knife at the corporal. As he ducked away from the door, that burly man drew his sword, lumbering toward me, and I tossed my remaining knives at him, one at a time. The corporal blocked the first, but to do so, he moved his arm into the second’s path. Its pommel smacked into the inside of his elbow, and hissing, he dropped his sword.

Smirking, I said, “Or should I show you how to take advantage of your environment?”

Leaping for the fallen weapon, I kicked dirt into the corporal’s eyes. While he retreated, rubbing his eyes, I retrieved his unclaimed sword, which had the other members of this squad going for their blades.

“Or should I give you an example of the best time to leave?”

Slamming through the cleared doorway, I spun to close it, jimmying my dagger into the wood to keep it shut, and when it shuddered against my body, I grinned.

“Or should I show you how to successfully retreat?” I shouted.

The pounding on the door’s wood increased in ferocity until the captain’s voice rose in a roar above it, and in the blissful quiet that fell, I waited.

“Private, I’m only going to ask you this once,” the captain called. “Open this damn door.”

“Does that mean I pass?” I asked, smirking to myself.

“Yes!” the captain shouted. “Now, let us out.”

Stepping back, I warily yanked my dagger out of the door’s jam, holding my borrowed sword at the ready, but when the door opened, only cheering assaulted me.

Still rubbing grit out of his eyes, the corporal moved toward me with a smile.

“Good show!” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you to fight dirty. You’ve got good instincts, Private.”

He patted my shoulder before extending a hand.

“I’d like my sword back, if you don’t mind.”

Reluctantly, I handed the weapon over, still watching the corporal for signs of an imminent attack, but he merely sheathed the sword before ruffling my hair.

“You’ve taken my spot, Private. Thank you,” he said before bowing. “I’m Montagor.”

He’d whispered the name as if it were sacred, which sent a flutter of unease through my guts.

Shifting in place, I said, “It’s… a good name.”

Grinning, the corporal waved off the compliment.

“Come inside,” he said. “We’ll send someone for ale, and while we wait, you can tell us how you learned to fight like that.”

Great. Seemed I’d charmed this group of soldiers. That could be useful… or it could be a waste of time. I wasn’t sure yet.

But I still had a role to play, so with a laugh, I joined the squad inside their barrack.

Adventures of the Hand 1.3

Little

 

Later, I eased the barrack door shut behind me, backing away from it. Picking my way through snoring, drink-addled Conscripted soldiers without waking them up had been a tad difficult for me, considering sneaking and nimble feet had never been my specialty. Those tasks were more suited for Ring or Pointer, but somehow, I’d managed it tonight.

Besides that annoyance, my skill set had almost fortuitously matched up with this infiltration’s challenges. Reading a room or a client and becoming the person needed in the moment were skills that I’d mastered long ago, and those had helped with my chosen task.

One of the reasons I’d picked the Birthing Grounds to infiltrate was because it had been the most difficult of the options laid before the Hand. I’d thought the challenge of it would be a welcome change from the boredom of sailing and the monotony of fighting. I wasn’t a soldier, damnit! I was a spy.

So, when the choices presented to me had been investigating Doldimar’s workshop of Kiraak or an extensive list of trading towns, I’d jumped on the one interesting task on the list. I hadn’t thought about what might happen if I successfully infiltrated the place.

For one thing, I’d realized that the soldiers that I’d killed during the battle two months ago might have been like the people in the squad I’d left behind, and that made my stomach hurt. Middle and Pointer would laugh at my naivety, but they’d fought in battles before, many of them. I’d joined the Hand in a time of peace, a time when little killing had been required of me. If I was called to fight once more, could I bury the knowledge that each enemy soldier I would face had a life outside of the battlefield, especially given my reaction to the beach battle now?

Softly laughing, I shook my head, not sure why I was worrying about that. I doubted it would be a problem, considering how many other things I’d had to mentally shove to the side in the past.

When I eventually reached the house at the center of the Birthing Grounds, the gate for the fence around it was locked, something that shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. The captain of the squad I’d joined had claimed that the Birthing Grounds was open to all, so I’d assumed that would mean no locks. Apparently, I’d been wrong.

On testing how much space I could coax from in between the gate and its fence, I made a face. The fit would be tight, but I’d rather thread through this opening than climb over the fence or pick its lock. Again, that was a specialty for another member of the Hand, Thumb in this case, and if I hadn’t gained any weight in the last month…

I squeezed through the gap by the barest of margins, ripping my tunic on the way. Sucking on a finger, I ran my eyes over the yard around the house, unsurprised by how little I could see in the dim light.

Even still, when clothing rustled somewhere nearby, I skipped away from the noise.

From out of the shadows, a woman asked, “Are you… you’re not one of Doldimar’s, are you? Can you help me?”

“Please, help me!” I cry at the woman who’s come to retrieve her husband.

Snarling, she kicks at me, calling me…

“…a bad boy! How dare you! How dare-!”

“I’m sorry,” I sharply said. “I can’t help. Not now. I’ve got a job to do.”

Wincing, I turned away from the woman, and as I raced across the grass, her sobs chased me. I reminded myself that I’d spoken the truth, stopping the shudder that wanted to race across my skin. I couldn’t help her, but maybe Raimie could. The sooner I finished with scouting this place, the sooner I could report to the king, and the sooner the army could free this place… if the king chose to take it.

That reasoning did nothing to banish a deep well of guilt inside.

While skirting the house, I looked for points of ingress. If I wanted to keep my presence here undetected, I couldn’t waltz through the front door as if I belonged. Fortunately, this house had been poorly constructed. Given enough pressure, its daub walls crumbled beneath my fingers, and after making my way to a second-story window, I slipped inside.

The smell hit me first. The stink of sweat and fear were so familiar that they brought tears to my eyes, setting my stomach roiling. A metallic scent of spilled blood delicately intertwined with the other two, and on noting it, I gagged, fighting against a long-buried memory…

My first client of the day leaves, and I let myself relax. So far, I'm not too badly hurt. I can keep going, maybe earn enough coin for two meals today instead of one. Please, let it be so.

When my next client knocks, it pulls me out of bed with silent complaints, but still, I get up. Unfortunately, when I open the door, I know I’ve gotten unlucky. The big man on the other side is one of my regulars—

“…survived your first night.”

—so I know EXACTLY what to expect.

No, no, no, no, NO! I… wasn’t there anymore. I wasn’t…

With difficulty, I pushed that Alouin damned memory away before it could get to the worst parts. Spitting the remnants of vomit out of my mouth, I winced at the pile of it at my feet, wiping my fingers on my tunic. So much for staying undetected.

It was fine, though. I could… do this. I could.

So.

With my eyes having adjusted to the dark, I scanned my surroundings. I was in a child’s room, complete with a toy wooden sword and rocking horse, and this peaceful setting created a strange sense of disconnect with the memory that a smell had just provoked.

Retreating into the hall, I searched the top floor on shaky legs, growing steadily more confused as I did. So far, this house seemed like just that: a home. From the way the captain had reacted to it, I’d expected something more than this.

When I reached the foyer downstairs, its normal state—populated with traditional decorations and furniture—finished my climb back into a fully rational state. Two doors flanked the staircase in the center of this room. Perhaps what had everyone in the Birthing Ground so afraid lay behind them.

When I slipped through one of the doors, what sense of normalcy the rest of the house had exuded was shattered on the other side, nearly ruining my own regained rationality. Here, the first floor had been hollowed out to make room for lines of people, hanging from the ceiling by their wrists. Blood was pooling beneath their feet, dripping from the lacerations that coated their bodies, and so much of it puddled beneath them that it had stained the floor red.

On the far side of the room, a man was standing in front of a prisoner, humming. The blue tinge in his blonde hair glistened in the firelight while black armor tightly encased his body, and while I watched, checking whether he’d noticed me, shadows gathered around his burn-scarred hand. He needled those shadows into a cut on the prisoner’s stomach, and she moaned, weakly struggling against her chains.

Holding my breath, I reached for the latch behind me. This room and the scene I’d found in it? I needed to escape from it now, before the other man saw me, but before I could get out, the same shadows from earlier darted for my face. I dove to the side, barely dodging that bolt, and when I sprang back to my feet, the other man was standing nearby with his gray eyes narrowed.

Shit. I was so fucked.

Adventures of the Hand 1.4

Little

 

The hostile Eselan was much too close, so I stumbled backward until a wall halted my retreat. Hell. How was I getting out of this ?

“What are you?” the Eselan asked. “Not a Kiraak. I don’t sense Corruption in you. I suppose you could be sworn to me, but that’s unlikely. You’re not cowering enough to be one of those weaklings.”

With his head cocked, he paused, as if listening to someone.

“Corruption says you have Ele’s stench on you, but you’re obviously not a primeancer,” he eventually continued. “What are you?”

He stepped toe-to-toe with me, leaving me plastered against the wall, and as a hungry look overtook the Eselan, I forcibly stopped a scream from emerging, leaving it unsung against the block in my throat.

“Are you from him?” the Eselan asked. “Are you a gift of entertainment?”

He narrowed his gray eyes again.

“Your name,” he demanded.

And coughing, I was helpless to say anything but, “Lornilen.”

Deep in the past, a witch of a woman snaps at me.

“Names hold power, young wretch!”

As the voice faded, I snapped my eyes wide with a gasp. I hadn’t used that name since Middle had recruited me, so many years ago. It carried too much… history. Why the hell would I speak it now? Sure, this Eselan might remind me of clients from long ago, but that shouldn’t be enough to drag such a reluctant truth from me.

Frowning, the Eselan retreated half a step, running his eyes over me.

“Hmm,” he said. “You’ve experienced devastation of the soul, haven’t you?”

But he hadn’t asked it like a true question. Still, I couldn’t let him be the one to speak my own damn story, so I gritted my teeth and forced myself to admit a most unwelcome truth.

“I have a pretty face. It hasn't helped me over the years.”

Something shifted behind the Eselan’s eyes while he distractedly nodded.

“I understand. More than you can know,” he said.

But then, he stepped back into my personal space with his head cocked.

“Do you know an Ele primeancer, Lornilen?” he asked. “He’d try to fade into the background, only revealing his power as a last resort.”

Oh, thank Alouin. I had an answer for this question. Something about our interaction was screaming mortal danger to me, something more than the bodies hanging nearby or the way this man was looking at me, and I wasn’t keen on finding out what that meant.

“There was an Eselan, Rhylix, who matched your description,” I said, “but I’m sorry to say that he’s dead. Several people attacked him last week. He succumbed to his injuries shortly after that.”

The Eselan mouthed the name ‘Rhylix’, but then, he shook his head.

“He’s not dead, can’t be,” he said. “No, he’ll be the newest person attached to your leader, whoever that happens to be.”

Strangely, I believed this claim. In the short time I’d known the man, Rhylix had pulled off many unbelievable feats. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he'd somehow faked his death.

As if to draw my attention back to my peril, the Eselan flinched before turning aside.

“I don’t want to kill him yet,” he growled. “I’m trying to… hell, I hate you.”

Shit. How would I escape from this catastrophe?

No. That was the wrong question, always had been. The right one was: who did I need to become so that this crazy Eselan let me live?

Best to start with the most commonly desired ‘victim demeanor’.

With my lip trembling, I hesitantly said, “Please, sir. I- I’ll do anything you…”

Trailing off, I frowned. Given the way the Eselan was now looking at me, that role didn’t seem right.

“You’ll never get me to talk, though!” I said, trying again.

And… no. That wasn’t right either.

Peeling myself off of the wall, I forcibly brushed past the Eselan, striding to where I could poke at a hanging prisoner. That hapless man swung back and forth with each pass blocking my view of the Eselan, thank Alouin.

“Hell if I know how you want me to act,” I said. “You’re impossible to read.”

Which was disconcerting. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d failed with this simplest of tasks.

When the Eselan burst into laughter, slapping at his knee, I tensed, watching him as I distractedly swung the prisoner once more. Eventually, the Eselan calmed down.

Wiping his eyes, he said, “You know what? I’ll make you a deal. I’m going to ruin your pretty face—”

A knife materialized in the Eselan’s hand.

“—and if you can keep from flinching while I do that, then maybe, I’ll let you go. If not, I’ll kill you.”

Oh, Alouin. No. Please, no. Fuck, fuck, fuck-!

STOP IT!

Slowly, I forced myself to take a steadying breath. Right now, I couldn’t be emotional. I must look at this situation as if it were a transaction, as so much of my life had been. If I did that, then there was only one way to answer this unhinged man.

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor.”

Shrugging, I waved at the ground.

“Can I at least sit while you’re working, though? A man can only take so much pain before his legs give out.”

Fleeing or fighting hadn’t even crossed my mind. If that earlier display of shadows was any indication, then this Eselan was a Daevetch primeancer. I wouldn’t make it to the door before a bolt of that energy tore a hole through me, and I knew from past experience that I could handle any pain that this man might choose to inflict. So, which would I rather keep? My looks or my life?

As said, it was a relatively simple transaction.

Grinning, the Eselan gestured to a spot in front of him.

“Please, sit.”

I did as I was told, shifting on the floor until I was comfortable. Once I’d gotten settled, the Eselan joined me so that our knees were touching. Perched so close together, we might have looked like children playing a game, if not for our ages and the knife between us.

That brightly flashing knife.

Clasping my hands in my lap, I said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

So, the Eselan lifted the thin blade, resting it on my skin. He hummed a strange tune as he cut and mangled my flesh.

For my part, I sat motionless. Sure, there was pain here, but pain was a friend. It was a reminder that I was alive. That I hadn’t wasted away in my former home.

Still, while the mind might be strong, the body was weak, and I had to clench my hands to keep them from shaking.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Eselan finished with one side of my face, and while he worked on the other, I retreated to the one happy place in my mind.

My final client of the day is due at any moment, and I’m scrambling to get this room straightened up. Before I'm finished, a knock comes, and I answer it, as I must. The man behind the door doesn’t look like the type to visit a place like this, but I learned long ago how deceiving appearances can be.

Stepping to the side, I wave him inside.

“Please, come in.”

Reluctantly crossing the threshold, the man stops short on fully seeing the room. Squeezing around my client, I lie on the bed with my arms behind my head. This man seems uncomfortable, shifting in place, and I internally groan. I prefer it when the client knows what they want because then, I don’t have to think. I only need to react, letting me send my mind elsewhere.

“What’s your name?” I ask, innocently blinking.

The wide-eyed routine usually works well with these types.

“Oswin,” my client says.

Ah. If he decided to go with a name like that, maybe the man does know what he wants. He isn’t Eselan, if his features are anything to go by. Therefore, choosing a name that’s typical for the world’s second race must have been deliberate. I can work with this.

Sitting up, I fold my hands into my lap.

“Forgive me, sir. My magic is quite rusty.”

Glancing down, I force a blush into my cheeks.

“I can’t make it any bigger than it already-”

“No!”

Shooting his hand up, the client clutches at his forehead, wincing.

“It’s not like that,” he says. “Oswin’s really my name, a cruel joke on my parent’s part.”

Now I’m thoroughly confused. Relaxing my pose, I sprawl across the bed, looking my client up and down.

“Why are you here, then?” I ask. “You’re obviously not interested in my body, and I don’t own anything else of value.”

Oswin makes a funny noise in the back of his throat, squeezing his eyes closed.

“I’m here because of your parents,” he chokes out. “We were well acquainted before they moved to the Southern Kingdoms. Grew up together in Daira’s Audish slums, in fact. Even after they moved, we wrote to one another.  They always joked about how I’d be their kid’s godparent, if they had one. When I learned they’d passed, I used up my resources looking for you. Finding you took longer than I’d have liked, and I’m sorry for that.”

I’ve decided this client is speaking gibberish or… something. That or this is an incredibly elaborate fantasy on his part.

“I may have a job for you,” Oswin continues. “I’ve heard you’re quite good at reading your… client’s moods. It’s probably why you’ve lasted this long without gaining a disfigurement. The Queen of Ada’ir could use someone like you in her Hand.”

Oh… I get it now. This is a scenario I’m familiar with.

Rising from the bed, I say, “Well, master spy, I’m not terribly exceptional at blending into a crowd or finding things, but I’m sure I can manage tonight.”

I reach for the man, but he snatches my hands before I can get anywhere close to my goal.

“Lornilen, I’m serious!” he shouts.

For a moment, time stops for me, leaving the room spinning, and I drop onto the bed. Heavily.

Clients aren’t supposed to know my name—

“NAMES HAVE POWER!”

—and the house madam had always been diligent when it comes to withholding them. A client learning my true name can impinge upon my safety, and I make the house too much money for its owners to take the risk.

“You’re… telling the truth?” I hesitantly ask.

“I am. I knew your parents, and I can give you a job. A much more wholesome one,” Oswin says. “I can take you away from this place. Is that what you want?”

Is that what I want? What sort of question is-?

My body’s shaking. Why is it shaking? What’s going-?

Bursting into tears, I wail my answer into this hell-like room.

“YES!”

The knife was pulled away from my face for a final time, and reluctantly, I returned to the present. In front of me, the Eselan grunted with his brow furrowed.

“No flinching,” he said.

Why had he sounded so surprised?

“Does that mean I can go?” I asked.

Hell, that had hurt. With each word, fire had lanced through my open wounds, cracking them ever wider, and I fought to keep from swiping at the blood seeping over my mouth and chin.

Turning to the side, the Eselan grimaced.

“No! That was impressive,” he hissed. “I’m not killing him! So, shut up, pest.”

Odd that he was still speaking with something that wasn’t there. Then again… maybe it was best not to focus on that. Maybe it was best to listen to the helpful part.

The Eselan meant to let me go.

“I’ll leave you with your playthings, then,” I said with difficulty.

Rapidly blinking, the Eselan fixed his eyes on me before roughly jerking away.

“What-?!”

I held still, praying no further horror was coming, while the Eselan’s face morphed from confusion to something… unexpected.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “What did I…?”

Falling forward, he collapsed on himself, hiding his face in his hands.

“You should get out. Now,” he said. “I don’t know when Corruption’s coming back. I don’t know if I can… Just get out. Please.”

I didn’t know what to make of this, but then again, I didn’t care about understanding right now. Instead, I focused on leaving the room.

Getting to my feet took almost all of the energy I had, making me trudge if I wanted to move. I’d almost made it to the door before the Eselan’s voice stopped me short.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he said through his hands, “but if you see that Rhylix person again, could you give him a message? Tell him Arivor received his letter and says hello.”

It took me a moment to process what the Eselan had said. That man had ruined my face, and now, he was asking for something else? What the hell?

But… on the other hand, his request was relatively simple. Given that it involved Raimie’s friend, maybe it could help the king in some way, and that was the primary purpose of a spy from a Hand.

So, I tiredly nodded before leaving through the front door. I shuffled through the yard, and when I reached the gate, the woman from before burst into laughter.

“I see you completed your work with regaling success,” she sarcastically said.

Actually, yes, I had, and in more ways than that woman could know. I knew where the Kiraak were made in the Birthing Grounds, a location of prime importance in my king’s revolt. When we eventually took this place, Raimie would be able to more quickly finish his work here if he knew exactly which building to target first. If my looks had been the price needed for that knowledge, so be it.

Given that, it was relatively easy to ignore the woman’s cackling as I left the house with its fence behind.

Adventures of the Hand 1.5

Little

 

Fortunately for me, the Birthing Grounds seemed to follow a day-night cycle. As I dazedly wandered between barracks, weaving all the while, no one was outside to mock my stumble or notice my wounds. I was grateful for the silence all around me, a respite I needed if I was going to box up my pain yet again.

“Private! Where do you think you’re going?”

Or maybe that pain had been distracting me. How had I not noticed the only person outside right now? As I stopped short, trying to figure out where the voice had come from, the captain from the Conscripted squad I’d ‘joined’ glided in front of me, sucking in a breath when he saw my face.

Digging through his pockets, he said, “I told you to stay away from the center of the Birthing Grounds! Hell. Seems you’ve met our Dark Lord, huh?”

Despite how much it hurt, I squeaked, “That was Doldimar? He’s insane!”

Which only made the captain quirk an eyebrow.

“Why does that surprise you?” he said before handing me a capped jar and several clean strips of cloth. “That’s a salve and some bandaging for when the bleeding stops. Always good to keep those on hand when you’re Conscripted. Anyway, they should keep infection from setting in while you travel. I’d tell you to see a healer before you go anywhere, but I’d guess from your hurried pace that you need to reach Tiro as soon as possible.”

“Thanks,” I numbly said. “I’m sure I’ll-”

But then, what he’d said sank in, and I took a step back.

“Tiro?!”

“Sure,” the captain said with a grin. “You work for Ky, right?”

Oh, I couldn’t handle this right now, not with everything else on my plate. I needed… I needed to leave, damnit.

So, I snapped, “Who the hell is Ky?”

I’d never heard that name before, but given how often it had come up today, perhaps I should learn who it belonged to.

“Oh, cut the bull, Private. I knew you were a spy from the moment you slunk into our column ,” the captain said. “Thought it was strange that you didn’t reach out when I gave you an opening earlier, so I wasn’t sure who your master was until I saw your face. Only those of us who work for Kylorian are crazy enough to endure something like that.”

As he waved at my face, I fought to keep it still instead of grimacing as I might like. This was not good.

“I don’t work for a ‘Kylorian’,” I said. “You’ve mistaken me.”

Gingerly, I tried to step around the captain, but a hand on my shoulder kept me from striding away.

“Then, who do you serve?” the captain said. “You are a spy, right?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Discovery was not an option!

…Or was that the early days of my training creeping up on me again? I… I was having a hard time with focusing right now.

“Let me leave without a fuss, Captain, and maybe I won’t report you to Enforcer Adrinosk,” I said, keeping my voice as cold as possible.

Please, for Alouin’s sake, say the captain would be scared off by my threat.

Unfortunately, it seemed to have only made the captain chuckle.

“You are!” he once again insisted. “If you were Doldimar’s creature, you’d have run for the nearest Overseer long before now.”

Ho.ly. hell. Why was this man so persistent?

“Maybe I’m just returning the favor you paid me,” I hissed.

But the captain shook his head.

“Even someone as new as you has had loyalty driven in deep,” he said. “Fear of him would have had you reporting my behavior as soon as possible, regardless of the favor you owe or any danger I might present.”

I could say nothing more. I’d run out of protests, but I also couldn’t agree with the captain, could I? What if this was a trap? What if this was…?

Hell, I was getting dizzy.

Sighing, the captain shook his head, staring at the ground.

“Look,” he said. “I may have found myself leading one of Doldimar’s best Conscripted squads, but I didn’t start here. I come from Tiro. Kylorian, Tanwadur’s eldest son, recruited me for his resistance soon after my hometown’s Harvest drove me to their refuge. He sent me and my partner, Ibilfer, to this place so we could serve as an early warning system for other towns’ Harvests.”

Crossing my arms, I pursed my lips, which I immediately regretted. Damn these cuts.

This man hadn’t given me enough proof of his association with Tiro. The enemy could have gleaned the information he'd shared through intelligence work. Even Overseer Raelinov had known Kylorian’s name. So, why should I trust this man?

“For Alouin’s sake!” the captain said. “Ibilfer and I sent the warning to Ren about Lindow’s Harvest. I know it got to her late, but we did the best we could!”

Now, Ren’s forewarned information on Lindow was something the enemy probably didn’t know about, not with how little time had passed between then and now, but I couldn’t be sure about that. The captain seemed genuine, but my confrontation with Doldimar had left me shaken.

That Eselan had read as dangerous and bloodthirsty in one moment and confused and compassionate in the next. It had been the first time I couldn’t read someone in a while, and the temporary loss of my greatest ability had made me antsy. So, could I trust the captain?

I’d have to take a chance with it. If I didn’t get past this man sometime in the next few minutes, I might end up collapsing on him instead.

“Yes, I’ve come from Tiro as well, but I don’t serve your master,” I said. “I’ve never met a Kylorian, but me and mine only recently reached Auden. I might have missed him in the chaos of our arrival.”

“Does that mean you’re from the Matvai Homeland?” the captain asked. “Why would the clans suddenly join the resistance? That would be… surprising.”

Matvai… Homeland? Alouin, there was so much my people don’t know about this place.

“No, we’re not part of any clan,” I said. “We’re from Ada’ir.”

That just made the captain look confused.

“It’s a kingdom across the sea?” I made myself continue.

“Across the sea…” the captain said before trailing off.

It took him a moment to process that, and as he did, I wondered if I could leave now. I needed to rest. Soon.

“But… we haven’t heard from those kingdoms in years,” the captain eventually continued. “They have no stake in our fight, not since Doldimar closed the border to trade. Unless-”

Disquiet captured his face, and I clicked my tongue.

“Look, I have to go. Now,” I said. “I need to get some rest somewhere safe, and then, I should return to my king as soon as possible. This salve might help with keeping these cuts from festering, but I can't get them sutured until after I’ve delivered my report.”

The captain, however, seemed to be too caught up in realization to listen.

“You said king,” he said. “Could it be true? Will those ridiculous, old foretellings actually be fulfilled?”

And finally, I’d had enough.

“Captain!” I loudly hissed. “I need to leave the Birthing Grounds! Now.”

“Alouin, I…”

With a hand in his hair, the captain roughly shook his head before turning aside.

“My people and I have a secret escape route here,” he said. “I’ll take you to it.”

When he strode off in a daze, I reluctantly followed. Tempting as an easy escape was, I wasn’t sure if I should follow this man. If he'd figured out that his foretold king had returned, he might become hostile. Over the last few months, it had happened enough in Tiro to make me cautious.

As if attuned to my suspicions, the captain said, “So, the Audish royal family has returned. What’s the heir like? Is he a monster like everyone thought he’d be?”

Snorting, I said, “Hardly.”

It was difficult to contain the chuckle that wanted to emerge, but if talking was agony for me, how would laughter feel?

When I could continue, I said, “Raimie’s everything the commoners would want from their king. He’s smart, honorable, and fair. Sure, he has flaws as well, but unlike most people, he’s aware of them. He’s a bit too modest for me, perhaps a bit too self-deprecating for the average person, but those are my only complaints about him.”

While waiting for the captain’s response, I cautiously explored my wounds. Blood was congealed into thick lines around each cut while a thin veneer coated everything else. They’d be ready for my gifted salve as soon as I’d escaped from this place.

As he led me into a cave, the captain said, “The foretelling insists that your king is destined to overthrow Doldimar, and while seer magic may have its strengths, it’s notoriously fickle at times too. It would reassure me to know if this Raimie has some semblance of a plan.”

Much as it hurt, I had to laugh at that.

“Well, a few months ago, his army destroyed Teron’s Kiraak, and he recently captured Da’kul as well,” I said. “I’m not sure what the next phase of the plan is, but my compatriots and I have been dispatched to observe and evaluate several high-value targets. I gather that Raimie will make his decision about where to attack next based on our reports.”

“I’d wondered if the rumors about the loss of so many Conscripted squads were true,” the captain said. “How strong is his army if he’s already made such progress?”

I was hesitant to answer this question, but in the end, what harm was there in sharing?

Wincing, I sourly said, “Middle’s better at the numbers, and there hasn’t been a head count since the battle at the beach. If I were to guess, though, I’d say we stand at about thirty-five hundred, not counting any soldiers that Tiro might lend us.”

Stopping short, the captain stared at me.

“Alouin above, that’s-”

“More people than your resistance has ever had?” I guessed.

The captain nodded with a funny look taking hold of his face. This soon changed to resolve.

“Tell your king that he should attack the Birthing Grounds next,” he said. “Doldimar’s leaving for the capital in the next few days. A better time for an assault won’t come again soon.”

“Ok…” I said. “I can see how seizing this place could be helpful. But how are we supposed to counter that cliff face? Getting into this pit to secure it would be a logistical nightmare!”

Maybe someone who’d been living here would have an answer to that question.

Grim-faced, the captain said, “Taking the Birthing Grounds might be a long and costly slog, but your losses would be worth it. Cut off Doldimar’s supply of Kiraak, and you’ll break his army.”

I could follow that logic but…

“How would that break the army?” I asked. “I thought Doldimar made the Kiraak. How would losing this place stop him from changing humans into monsters?”

At that, the captain laughed, long and loud.

“Really?” he gasped when he could. “You think people volunteer for that change? Ha!”

While he broke into another laughing fit, I forced myself not to roll my eyes, beyond grateful when the captain got around to explaining himself.

“Doldimar needs infrastructure to keep his Harvested populace contained until he’s finished with processing them. If destroyed or captured, he’d need time to rebuild that infrastructure.”

Oh.

“And by then, Raimie may have taken the throne,” I whispered.

“Indeed,” the captain said with a grin.

He stopped beside a narrow crevasse with a ladder leading to the cave’s celling, far above.

“Your way out,” the captain said with a wave. “There’s a hatch that’ll let you out at the top, don’t worry.”

Much as I was grateful to finally be here and done with this conversation, I still took the time to clasp the captain’s shoulder before he could leave. If I had to lean a little heavily on him, the man was gracious enough not to mention it.

“Thank you for everything,” I said. “I’ll pass your suggestion along to Raimie. Let him know he has a friendly face here-”

“Don’t!”

With his shout ringing in the cave, the captain backed away from me with his hands raised.

“I’ve done terrible things for the Dark Lord while maintaining my cover here. At this point, I’m not sure who I’ve served better: the bastard who oppresses Auden or the people trying to overthrow him. I don’t deserve to go home. So… so, when your king’s army comes, I won’t fight. I’ll stay with my squad in the barracks, but if someone attacks us, we’ll defend ourselves, to the last if need be. And if we’re left alone, I’ll turn myself over to your king for his justice, although if he’s as fair as you say, he won’t let us live.”

That was… harsh.

“He’s also not one to waste resources…”

But I trailed off at the captain’s stern stare.

Sighing, I said, “I’ll do as you’ve asked.”

I grabbed one of the ladder’s rungs, wondering if I could handle a long climb to the surface, but before I could get started, the captain spoke up once more.

“Can you…?”

When he fell silent, I glared over my shoulder until the captain finished his thought.

“Tell Ky that I said I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep Ibilfer safe.”

That was a task I could happily accept.

“Will do, Captain,” I say. “Stay safe now.”

Chuckling, the other man said, “Safe travels, Private.”

Hopefully, that was what I’d get.

Chapter 18: My Perspective

Eledis

 

The role of the king is harsh and unforgiving. Impossible, even. Your subjects will always find fault with you.

-Kinlith, scholar and tutor to the Audish heir

 

As usual, I waited for Raimie in the spot where the boy typically descended from the lattice above to join the mortals below. His insistence on occasionally sleeping in such a dangerous location, the ‘only place where I can be alone’, had been a constant annoyance over the last few months in Tiro, the act of a child who was grasping at something he didn’t yet realize was lost forever.

But that was what Raimie was: a child. At nineteen-years-old, he’d begun to make adult decisions, but they had yet to outweigh the immaturity of his other behaviors.

Then again, when one had lived as long as I had, most people under the age of thirty seemed like children. The circle of my disdain encompassed more than Raimie alone.

Considering that, I thought the kid had done well since our arrival to Auden.

He’d earned his soldiers’ trust, an accomplishment that was usually much harder than it sounded, but for some reason, Raimie’s open-faced honesty and insistence on self-sacrifice had fiercely bound these people to him. He’d also killed an Enforcer, a task I’d learned most considered impossible. He’d convinced Tanwadur, a man who hated him, to not only let him live but allow his army inside of that hostile man’s refuge.

After defusing tension in this city, Raimie had subsequently taken a fortress that Tanwadur and his eldest son had been trying to capture for years. I had yet to meet Kylorian, but if his small list of successes was anything to go by, that teenager would be of little consequence. Raimie, on the other hand, had proven that he had a mind for tactics with Da’kul’s capture.

Overall, I’d been stuck oscillating between pride and disappointment when it came to Raimie’s progress. It had been a frustrating experience all around.

When a body landed beside me in an explosion of white light, I yelped, and as that blinding light evaporated, Raimie mischievously grinned at me. Whatever indecision I might have been fighting before temporarily hardened into disapproval.

“How can I help you, Eledis?” Raimie asked.

Really? The kid was asking if I needed help?

I’d seen how busy Raimie was on a daily basis. The kid lived a life of non-stop activity, one that exhausted me to watch. If he didn’t learn time management soon, he was sure to burn out, and while I could possibly use something like that in the long run, it wouldn’t be helpful yet. I had to encourage him to slow down.

“Don’t you have enough on your plate?” I asked.

“Sure!” Raimie said. “But if you need something from me, I’m more than happy to help. The other stuff can wait.”

By other stuff, did he mean battle plans and handling logistics for his army? Because no, those couldn’t wait. Hell, this kid was an idiot sometimes.

Patiently, I said, “I don’t need anything, Raimie. I’m only here because I’ve been assigned the role of messenger this morning.”

“Oh, really?” Raimie said with his lips twitching. “Must be important to have you leaving your comfortable office behind. I know how much you like that place.”

…One day, I was going to smack the smirk off of this little shit’s face.

“Speaking of that study, a man’s waiting for you there,” I said with an indulgent smile. “He insists that he’s part of your Hand. Says he has important information for you.”

“Fantastic! I’m glad one of them is back,” Raimie said. “Which one’s waiting for me?”

What on Alouin’s green earth was he talking about?

Raimie must have seen my confusion because he continued.

“What did he look like?”

“Short,” I said. “Actually, he was quite small in general.”

Humming, the kid smiled to himself.

“That sounds like Little. I think Oswin deployed him to the Birthing Grounds,” he said. “Fantastic! I’ve been looking forward to hearing his report.”

…The kid had formed a Hand?! When had this happened? And why hadn’t I known about it?

“Do you mind if I run ahead, Eledis?” Raimie asked. “I can accompany you back to your office if you’d rather, but… I really need to hear Little’s report.”

Numbly, I said, “Please. Do what you must, grandson. Don’t mind me.”

“Thanks! See you there.”

Raimie became a streak of flesh, accompanied by light, and with my nose wrinkled, I clicked my tongue.

Magic. Alouin damned magic. How was it that the person I must rely upon to reach my goals used the one thing that I despised almost as much as the Dark Lord himself? At least Rhylix, the other primeancer, wasn’t here to corrupt the kid any longer.

When I’d read about that bit of news, I’d nearly jumped for joy, but doing so wouldn’t have been polite with Raimie standing ten feet away from me. At the time, the kid had been unquestionably in the clutches of grief. What else could explain how short he’d been with me during that conversation?

Later, I’d shared my glee with Marcuset, and although my friend had expressed sorrow at the loss of life, he’d still joined me in a celebratory round of drinks.

Speaking of my friend, I hoped Marcuset would come to Tanwadur’s house soon. I had the feeling that whatever news this Little had brought would lead to a meeting, one where I’d need allies present if I was going to temper the crazy idea that Raimie would inevitably present.

As hoped, Marcuset was waiting for me outside the house when I reached it about an hour later.

“I’m glad you sent that messenger,” he said as I approached. “You were right. He’s called a meeting to discuss our next steps.”

I strode through the door without replying, heading upstairs with Marcuset on my heels.

“Should be interesting to see what he wants to do now,” he said, laughing under his breath.

Snapping my head toward him, I made sure he saw my glare.

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen under his sway as well,” I said.

Shrugging, Marcuset said, “You have to admit that he’s performed better than we expected.”

I made a face, even if I shouldn’t be so disparaging of the kid around Marcuset. My friend was already stuck in a difficult position, torn between the kid he’d sworn his fealty to and the friend he suspected might be plotting against his king.

“I’ll do no such thing,” I said in a lighter tone. “Have any hints for me before we go inside?”

“Hmm,” Marcuset said before breaking into a secret smile that I hated to see. “Tanwadur and his oldest son will be joining us today and Eledis? Kylorian… he’ll look familiar to you. Thought you deserved the warning.”

Ominous…

“That’s all I get?” I said, making sure the whine in my voice was evident.

“That’s all you get.”

At the glint in my friend’s eyes, I groaned. Nothing good had ever come after seeing that.

The dining room loomed ahead of us, and reaching it, I shoved through its door and into the room, scanning each of the people present. Raimie and his bodyguard were standing at one end of the room while Aramar stiffly sat at the center of the table, and Tanwadur was with his-

On seeing the teenager beside Tiro’s leader, I clutched at the table, certain I was about to tumble to the floor. It was like I’d been gut-punched because… because Kylorian could have been a twin of my long-dead brother.

Behind me, Marcuset chuckled, and I made a mental note to smack the man later. While he got settled beside Aramar, I straightened.

“You must be Kylorian,” I said.

“And you, Eledis,” the teenager replied.

He’d even inherited my brother’s classic sullenness! Damn, this kid was going to cause me trouble, wasn’t he?

With my eyes still fixed on Kylorian, I said, “So, what did your spy tell you, Raimie?”

“He gave me enough to form a new battle plan,” Raimie said, “I was just waiting for you and Marcuset to explain it.”

“Well, we’re here,” I said. “Let me sit, and we can get started.”

Wandering to the chair beside Kylorian, I gingerly dropped into it, and the younger man barely leaned away. Even slight as it had been, I noticed the motion.

“I’m sorry to have made you wait,” I made myself say.

“Not to worry! We weren’t waiting for long,” Raimie said. “So, where do I begin?”

Chapter 19: A Spy's Report

Eledis

 

“Where do I begin?” Raimie asked, looking incredibly lost.

“How about with a target?” Kylorian said.

Raimie jumped upon the prompt with clearly apparent gratitude.

“Yes! Thank you,” he said. “So, the next place we’ll attack. It’s going to be the Birthing Grounds-”

“Are you insane?” Tanwadur interrupted.

Already, his face was turning crimson, and I mentally groaned. Men like him made me feel… certain things. Unpleasant things. It made dealing with them incredibly difficult.

Apparently not finished, Tanwadur dropped a fist on the table.

“The Birthing Grounds is an impossible goal,” he snapped. “You’d be sending your people to their deaths.”

“Dury.”

Calmly, Kylorian laid a hand on his father’s arm.

“We should hear him out,” he said. “By taking Da’kul, he’s already accomplished a task that we thought impossible. There’s no harm in listening to him.”

Grumbling, Tanwadur leaned back in his seat, and with him taken care of, the room looked to Raimie for an explanation.

“Um…” he said, again tugging on his sleeve.

And seeing this, I discovered an enormous downside to Rhylix’s death. Much as that Eselan might have deserved my hatred, Rhylix had always provided a boost to Raimie’s confidence, and without that, the kid reverted to a shy, self-conscious boy unless someone provoked him.

Fortunately, I was quite good at doing that.

I’d opened my mouth to verbally poke the kid, hoping to get this show on the road, when a knock interrupted me. Although no one had issued an invitation to come inside, the door soon burst open, letting a short stranger through it.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Or am I early?”

The question had been directed at Raimie, who was staring at the stranger, bug-eyed. Given how much the rest of the room had done that, I couldn’t blame the kid for his reaction.

“Early,” he tightly said.

Raimie dragged the stranger to the side, holding an unintelligibly hissed conversation with him, and I raised an eyebrow at Marcuset. Shrugging, my friend didn’t look concerned by this turn of events, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be. Marcuset had always been remarkably awful at understanding the political implications of… anything really, but fortunately, I had only one question in this case, something I wouldn’t need Marcuset’s help with.

Who was this stranger allied with?

“Apologies for the interruption,” Raimie said. “This is Ryvolim. I’ll introduce him more fully soon enough, but for now, suffice it to say that I asked him to join us, although it wasn’t supposed to be quite so soon.”

He’d said those last few words through gritted teeth, and Ryvolim beamed at the kid, seemingly oblivious to his frustration.

A new, mysterious stranger, huh? For this meeting’s proceedings, I’d guess the man would play one of two roles. Ryvolim would either be an expert in a subject Raimie needed help with, or he’d have knowledge about the Birthing Grounds that Raimie wanted him to share.

It was also possible that the stranger had a unique skill set required by Raimie's plan, but on observing the man, I dismissed that notion. Ryvolim was a skinny man, made up of awkwardly proportioned limbs and little-to-no muscle mass. He looked more like the scholarly type than the weapons master that a battle would require.

But…

For a moment, I narrowed my eyes. Was this stranger really a stranger? Now that the shock of his arrival had passed, I recognized him as the man who’d been hanging around Raimie in the week since the battle of Da’kul. Was he a new friend? That was… curious. Raimie usually didn’t make friends so quickly.

“As I was saying before the interruption—”

Again, the kid glared at the stranger.

“—Little has recently returned from the Birthing Grounds. He brought information with him that… well. I’ll have him explain.”

When Raimie waved at him, Ryvolim opened the door, and the spy I’d met earlier shuffled inside, supporting his weight on Ryvolim’s arm. At the sight of him, those seated at the table gasped while I pursed my lips.

I’d seen the spy’s face when it had been a mess of weeping splits in flesh, and although I knew the stitches now holding those cuts closed were necessary for his healing, that knowledge didn’t stop the horror of observing what seemed like a further destruction of the spy’s countenance.

The wounds slashed across his forehead and cheeks would have been bad enough, but one particularly deep gash near the corner of his mouth would forevermore draw what had once been attractive lips into a permanent sneer. Another slice ran from the corner of his eye to the join of his neck and jaw, stretching so close to the eye that its lid had partially peeled away from his face.

“Little!”

Stepping forward, Oswin reached out for his subordinate, but Little merely brushed past him.

“I’m fine, Middle,” he snapped. “Let me do my job. We can debrief later.”

Unsteadily pulling a chair from under the table, Little collapsed into it, and Oswin reluctantly returned to his corner.

“Please, forgive the appearance,” the spy said. “It was a parting gift from Doldimar.”

“You met the Dark Lord?” Tanwadur squeaked.

But Little ignored the question, facing Raimie instead.

“I’d like to shorten my report if that’s all right, Your Majesty,” he said. “I can hear a bedroll calling my name.”

At that, Raimie frowned, but I knew his displeasure wasn’t in response to Little’s suggestion. The kid still hadn’t adjusted to his rise in station.

“I’d prefer if you kept it short and sweet,” he said.

Nodding, Little turned back to the table.

“In that case, does anybody need an overview of what to expect at the Birthing Grounds?” he asked.

As that final word stretched his lips, he winced.

While Tanwadur and Kylorian shook their heads, the rest of the table looked lost. Fortunately, one of the Audish natives jumped in, sparing Little from further pain.

“The place where Doldimar creates his Kiraak is based in a pit, one that’s a mile or so deep and wide with sheer drops all around it,” Kylorian said. “The only way down is via temporary staircases, carved from the cliff face by using primeancy.”

Nodding, Little added, “Exactly, although that description isn’t perfectly accurate. There’s another way down. One of your men showed it to me, Kylorian.”

That had the teenager brightening.

“Ibilfer?” he said. “How’s that old bastard doing?”

“It was Ibelfer’s partner, actually,” Little said with a pained grimace. “He wanted me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t protect your friend.”

Kylorian’s delighted smile tilted downward.

“Does that mean…?”

“He’s passed on, yes,” Little said. “An Overseer killed him while I was there.”

“Damnit.”

Slamming a fist on the tabletop, Kylorian sprang to his feet before striding to a corner, there to blankly stare at the wall. After an awkward beat of silence, I cleared my throat.

“I’m sorry for your loss, son. Truly,” I said, “but we should get on with this, considering how our messenger’s appeared to us. So, Little. You mentioned another way down?”

“Indeed,” Little said with a nod. “There’s a sinkhole not far from the Birthing Ground’s pit. Doldimar’s people have carved caves into its walls, and one of these leads to a crevasse in the sinkhole, one that also has a ladder. The crevasse is narrow and tight, but it would make an easy entry point for a saboteur team.”

Stroking his chin, Aramar said, “A small advantage that could prove useful.”

I suppressed an eyeroll. Leave it to that one to point out the obvious.

Leaning on the table with a grin, Raimie said, “Tell them the best part.”

With the smallest smile I’d ever seen in my life, Little leaned back while folding his hands in his lap.

“I have reliable intel that Doldimar will be leaving the Birthing Grounds in the next few days,” he said. “Normally when he’s there, the Enforcers from the regions nearby—Adrinosk, Betlisa, Dalinasth, and Arabelna—attend to him, but if he follows his established routine, he’ll be taking several of those Enforcers with him, leaving a token force of Overseers. From what I understand, the Enforcer for that specific region, Adrinosk, will stay behind as well, but even still, the Birthing Grounds’ defenses will be much lower than normal for a while.”

“Obviously, you have a plan to take advantage of this, grandson,” I said.

It was best to reinforce our familial relationship before the kid explained his plan. If the idea was brilliant, the others in the room would subsequently relate it to me, even if it was only in the most tangential of senses. If it was terrible, I could berate the plan as much as I pleased while keeping the appearance of a wise mentor intact.

“I do,” Raimie said, “but first-”

“I’m free to go?” Little said.

Patting his shoulder, Raimie said, “Enjoy your well-deserved rest.”

Climbing out of his chair, the spy bowed. His white knuckles around the table’s edge spoke to the effort it was taking for him to remain standing.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

As Little stumbled out of the door, Raimie turned to the stranger in our midst.

“Ryvolim…”

“I’ll be right back,” the stranger said before sprinting after the spy.

We all watched as the door closed behind him before turning on Raimie.

Chapter 20: Discussing Next Steps

Eledis

 

As if the delay with Ryvolim had never occurred, Raimie said, “With Da’kul’s capture, we’ve come into possession of several siege machines. I’ve asked around and learned that Tiro has the means to transport them. If Tanwadur agrees to assist us, we’ll take most of the fort’s catapults and trebuchets with us to the Birthing Grounds, leaving only what’s needed for defense in Da’kul. We’ll use those siege machines to bombard the enemy, softening them up-”

“For what?” Tanwadur said. “An attack? By all means, order your soldiers to charge the Birthing Grounds. Watching them leap to their deaths should be amusing. Or do you plan on sending them into the pit via this hidden ladder? Because it sounds like a chokepoint to me. Your people won’t make it down the ladder alive.”

While holding the older man’s gaze, Raimie said, “Ky, your father must think I’m incredibly stupid.”

When Kylorian merely shrugged from the corner he was still standing in, the kid sighed.

“Or maybe both of you do?”

Slumping, Kylorian took a deep breath before returning to the table.

“After our last conversation, I think you know my opinion on your intellect, Raimie,” he said.

But he spoke not one word more, making Raimie frown, and I… was confused. What conversation had Kylorian been talking about? Had the kid somehow allied with this teenager without me knowing about it?

“Honestly, that’s all right,” Raimie eventually said. “I’m glad to know what you think of me, Ky, and your father is welcome to whatever opinions he decides to keep.”

He bowed to Tanwadur, which had the old man flinging himself into his chair with his arms crossed. Nicely done, appeasing that cranky old man.

Straightening from his bow, Raimie continued, “As I was saying, we’ll soften them up before we attack, as you guessed, Tanwadur, but you were wrong about how I plan to get my army into the Birthing Grounds. I want to send a saboteur team into the pit at the same time as the bombardment. That team’s job will be to activate a staircase in the cliff wall-”

“How?” Kylorian asked. “Whoever you sent would need primeancy…”

Trailing off, he frowned.

With a huff, Raimie said, “Can I please finish? Questions can come later. I promise.”

“He really doesn’t like getting interrupted,” Marcuset loudly whispered.

Rolling his eyes, Raimie said, “The saboteur team will create a staircase so that my people can begin their descent. Once a significant number have reached the pit’s floor, a portion of the team will…”

Pausing, he flicked his eyes to the side.

“Really?” he said under his breath. “I won’t have to stay near the staircase?”

At that, Marcuset exchanged a glance with me. Was Raimie speaking with the splinter that accompanied his magic or someone else? Perhaps… someone we’d hoped never to encounter again?

Beside me, Kylorian squirmed in place. I could only imagine the younger man's fight to keep from asking the questions surely eating at him. Meanwhile, Tanwadur seemed too wrapped up in glaring his disdain at Raimie to notice said man’s seeming break with reality, and Aramar was merely waiting for his son’s next words.

But then, this had always been how this sort of thing went. Raimie did something that no normal or sane person would do, and because of who he was, people chalked it up to any number of reasonable explanations. It would infuriate the hell out of me if the kid didn’t need that sort of protection in his life.

“Nix the portion of the team idea, then,” Raimie continued with a grimace. “The entirety of the saboteur team will join in the attack.

"A large deterrent to us capturing the Birthing Grounds will be the Kiraak. Those unfortunate souls will be helpless to disobey their orders to defend the place. Until we disrupt that command by cutting their ties with their Enforcer, they’ll stop at nothing to resist us, but once Adrinosk is out of the picture, they’ll be dazed, similar to the walking corpses we saw after Teron’s death. So, our most urgent task will be to pacify the Kiraak. To that end, half of the saboteur team will locate the Enforcer and neutralize him. Leading that half will be-”

“Me!”

Having burst through the door, Ryvolim elaborately bowed with a hand fluttering to the side.

“Applause, hurrahs, and cheers.”

A beat of disapproving silence trailed the man’s entrance, but when appropriate, I cleared my throat.

“And who are you?” I asked.

“Ryvolim. Pleased to meet you,” the man said, bobbing into a bow again.

Tsking, I said, “I know that. I’m asking why you, of all people, should take such a significant role in this proposed battle plan.”

“Oh!” Ryvolim said in an annoyingly chipper voice. “Raimie, do you want to answer that one?”

Collapsing into the chair he’d recently vacated, he kicked his foot against the floor, and Raimie made a face, which only had the boisterous man opposite him grinning wider.

“Rhy’s killed Enforcers in the past,” Raimie tightly said. “He should be able to do it again.”

“Really?” Tanwadur said with a scoff. “Where did you find someone who’s accomplished the impossible?”

Jerking to face the older man, Raimie snapped, “First of all, I’ve killed an Enforcer before, so obviously, the task isn’t impossible. And I didn’t find him. He found me, but must we discuss Ryvolim’s proficiencies? I trust him to do this task, and that should be enough for you.”

The kid was starting to lose his temper. Best to step in before anything unfortunate happened.

“What about the other half of the team?” I ask.

With his teeth still gritted, Raimie forced his eyes onto me.

“They’ll advance on the Birthing Grounds’ center, where Doldimar creates his Kiraak,” he said.

With his eyes shooting wide, Tanwadur practically squeaked, “You’d send your people into that hive of monsters?”

“Who will lead that unfortunate group of soldiers?” Kylorian asked on the heel of his father’s question.

Furrowing his brow, Raimie cocked his head.

“Isn’t the answer to that question obvious?” he said.

“Honestly? No,” Kylorian said.

And several other people around the table murmured their agreement.

“Oh, for the love of-”

Taking a deep breath, Raimie pinched his nose.

“Me. I’ll lead that half,” he said.

And I smiled. At this rate, the kid would get himself killed soon, which while supremely tragic, would further my goals. I hadn’t wanted Raimie’s death to happen so soon or, truthfully, at all, but I wouldn’t pass over such a serendipitous opportunity.

“You want to lead the charge again?” Aramar asked. “Put yourself in real and immediate danger again?”

Pulling away, Raimie said, “Well, yes. But-”

“Damnit, Raimie, why do you keep doing this?” Aramar growled, smacking the table. “You’re the only hope we have of defeating Doldimar, and you court death with your every choice.”

Bristling, Raimie opened his mouth to shout, but before that could happen, he slammed his eyes closed, taking another deep breath. When he opened them again, he held his father’s gaze.

“I can’t help it that I’m the only one with the skill set needed to accomplish my goals,” he oh-so-calmly said.

Thankfully, Kylorian cut in at that moment.

“Which are?” he asked.

And silently, I blessed the teenager.

Raimie rounded on Kylorian, ready to tear into him, but he must have seen something in the other boy to pacify him because tension quickly leaked out of his body.

“In this case, I want to return the Kiraak to their natural state,” he said.

“How?”

The question rang in the room, having burst from multiple lips.

“The process is simple enough,” Raimie said with a shrug. “It’s the opposite of what’s done to create them: draw Corruption from under their skin and dissipate it once it’s free. It takes time for those once afflicted to act human again, but conversion is feasible. At least, it was possible for the small group I’ve tested it on.”

“But… that implies an ability to control Corruption,” Tanwadur said. “Isn’t that associated with primeancers, more specifically those who use the dark power?”

“Daevetch,” Raimie said with a nod. “That’s why I must lead the second half of the team. I’d rather give the Kiraak their lives back than wipe them out.”

“Huh.”

Every eye turned to Kylorian, who was sitting with his arms crossed and consternation painted in broad strokes across his face.

“Does that mean the rumors are true, then?” he asked. “I thought they seemed kind of ridiculous, but you’re saying you’re actually a primeancer.”

“Yes. I am.”

Standing tall, Raimie lifted his chin, as if expecting someone to attack him.

“And I mean to use my primeancy to give Auden’s resistance something they’ve been fighting to gain for centuries. Will that be a problem for you?”

After a moment, Kylorian relaxed, and although it took me a second, I realize that the teenager was chuckling under his breath.

“Not at all,” he said. “And I like your plan, although I’d like to make a suggestion.”

Relief was practically blazing from Raimie, but somehow, he kept it out of his voice when he asked.

“What’s that?”

“Put me on the team with Ryvolim,” Kylorian said. “I’ve fought Enforcers before-”

Snorting, Tanwadur said, “More like run like a girl from them.”

This had both Kylorian and me tensing, but the younger man merely responded in an even tone.

“In the instance you’re referring to, I wasn’t about to risk my people in an impossible fight, and I didn’t think wasting my life was a fantastic idea either. Of course, we retreated from Betlisa once we could! At the time, you seemed fine with my decision. Why bring it up now?”

Shaking his head, Kylorian turned back to Raimie before his father could reply.

“At the very least, I have experience with fighting Kiraak. You say that you want to save them, but the crazy bastards won’t be obliging enough to lay down their arms while you heal them. You can’t do your job until the Enforcers are gone, and I can watch Ryvolim’s back while he dispatches those monsters.”

Shooting to his feet, Tanwadur shouted, “You will do no such thing! Let’s not get into you ignoring how this man—”

He jerked his arm up to point at Raimie.

“—claims magic similar to the Dark Lord. No. At this point, it seems I must remind you of a fundamental truth. Long ago, you agreed to the purpose I’ve given you, and to accomplish it, you must follow my orders. You aren’t to volunteer your services without my approval, especially not to him. You’re to do as you’re told, boy.”

He raised a hand as if to strike Kylorian, and I was dropped into a nightmare once more. The past superimposed the present, and my father violently beat my younger brother for a perceived failure.

“Leave him alone!” I snapped.

Chapter 21: Meeting's Conclusion

Eledis

 

When Tanwadur jerked his eyes to me, I realized that not only had the protest I’d meant to keep in my head been audible but I’d also risen to my feet. Eyes were boreing into me, and I bowed beneath the weight of them.

At least my actions had stopped Tanwadur from doing something he’d regret.

“Apologies,” I said, sinking into my chair.

But no one was paying me any mind now.

“You’re drunk, Dury,” Kylorian whispered with his posture ramrod straight. “I didn’t plan to say anything while we were here, but your behavior is getting out of hand. Sit down and stay quiet so you don’t further embarrass us.”

Tanwadur blanched, but instead of returning to his seat, he left the room in a daze. The door swung shut behind him, and the room’s occupants politely averted their gazes from Kylorian with their shoulders rising toward their ears.

“Thank you for your help, Eledis,” the teenager eventually said, “but I don’t need your protection.”

Immediately, I said, “Of course. I apologize for presuming.”

Not that I could blame myself for what I’d done. The past hadn’t come to haunt me in years. It seemed I’d gotten out of practice with ignoring it.

Nodding acceptance of my apology, Kylorian turned to Raimie.

“My offer stands,” he said. “Would you like my help?”

“Rhy?” Raimie said. “What do you think?”

Running his eyes over the teenager, Ryvolim said, “I don’t see what harm he could do. Welcome aboard, Ky!”

Smiling, the teenager dipped his head to Ryvolim.

“Thank you. I look forward to lending you my sword.”

And the issue of Kylorian was put to bed.

“I think that’s everything,” Raimie said before turning to Ryvolim. “Wait. Have I forgotten anything?”

“Not that I can think of,” the other man said, “But they might have questions for you. Find out, maybe?”

Which only made me frown. Such familiarity shouldn’t exist between two people who’d only known each other for a few days, and the way they’d acted around one another was reminiscent of a relationship I’d thought concluded. This man couldn’t be…

No! Rhylix had always been reserved, almost haughty, whereas this Ryvolim was energetic and down to earth. Their personalities couldn’t be more opposite.

On top of that, the difference in their appearances was startling. I knew the Esela could shape change, but not only was I sure that Rhylix wouldn't have taken on a human form but such a shape change would require intense effort and force of will, or that was what I’d been told. No Eselan could hold it for more than a day straight.

And there were the testimonies. If I asked them, at least a dozen people would swear on what they considered sacred that they’d seen Rhylix’s corpse in Da’kul. My creeping suspicion had no basis in fact, no matter how uncannily similar Raimie and Ryvolim’s interactions might seem to that friendship.

Once more, I listened in on the conversation. Not many questions must have come up because the meeting seemed to be wrapping up.

“…anyone objects, I’ll put the plan into motion,” Raimie was saying.

At that, all eyes turned to me, and I snorted. Why did they rely on me to oppose the kid? It was irritating, especially because in this case, I rather liked Raimie’s scheme.

Now that we had a foothold in Auden, we’d want to destroy Doldimar’s military and economic infrastructure. Yes, preserving parts of it would also be a priority, but I couldn’t see our people using Kiraak at any point in the future.

Even if Raimie had been willing to use his magic to place ordinary people under his thumb, I would fiercely oppose it. We’d need the common man’s support in the coming months and years, and one surefire way to destroy that goodwill would be to use something as unnatural as Kiraak to accomplish our goals. Even with it discounted as rumor, Raimie already teetered on that line with his primeancy. There was no need to add more uncertainty to what surrounded him.

So, I asked, “When do we march?”

“We?” Raimie said with his face crinkling. “Eledis, you’ll stay in Tiro. Didn’t you hear me say that?”

…What?

“I can fight as well as you, grandson!” I snapped.

How dare he-?

“I know,” Raimie said with a nod, “but you’re much better at logistics and long-term plans. Look at the army you raised within Queen Kaedesa’s ranks while waiting for me to appear! I need you to coordinate with Tanwadur and Gistrick. I’m hoping the three of you will have several step-by-step plans for how to attack Auden’s capital, Elisk, when I return.”

Huh. The kid had improved on his ability to use his people in a way that maximized resources, and he’d made my omission from the coming battle seem like a compliment. How surprising.

Anyway, it wasn’t as if I’d wanted to participate in this battle. I’d fight when necessary, but I’d much rather leave that distasteful activity to soldiers who’d volunteered to die, seeing no need to risk my own life. I couldn’t, however, show any of my relief.

“Fine,” I said with a grimace.

“Oswin, make sure any further messages from the Hand go to my grandfather,” Raimie said.

Making a face, Oswin said, “Sir…”

“I’ll read them too! When I get back,” Raimie said, rolling his eyes. “Happy?”

Oswin clamped down on a smile.

“Actually, sir, I meant to ask if I’m joining you on your fool quest this time,” he said.

“Oh,” Raimie said before wrinkling his brow. “Why wouldn’t you? Unless you need to be here for some reason, I wanted you with me. Is that ok?”

“It is, Your Majesty,” Oswin said with his lips curling.

Ugh. Middle always showed Raimie such disrespect. I should have come to expect it from the spymaster by now, but somehow, that man’s familiarity with Raimie aways found a way to surprise me at the most unexpected of times.

“Good. If so, that’s everything, people!” Raimie said. “We’ll move out as soon as preparations are complete.”

After smiling at everyone, he and Oswin swept out of the room with Kylorian and Ryvolim following them, which left Aramar and Marcuset alone with me. For quite a few awkward minutes, no one said anything, even if the useless one kept shooting significant glances at both me and Marcuset.

In a burst, he eventually asked, “Are you sure it’s a good idea to put Raimie in danger like this? Nylion only emerges when my son’s threatened, whether in actuality or to face a perceived threat.”

Oh, sure. Let’s openly discuss the one thing that the three of us knew we should never speak aloud. That seemed like a great idea.

Now that the Aramar had broached the subject, though, it seemed like Marcuset meant to continue with it, and I forced myself not to sigh or slap my face in frustration.

“And none of us will be around Raimie to contain him if that violent, little bugger comes out,” my friend said, almost affectionately. “Nylion always liked me best, so I can probably minimize any destruction he might unleash if he comes out while we’re marching, but during the battle, I won’t be close enough to help.”

Fine. If we were going to talk about this, then I supposed we should talk about it. Or at the least, it looked like I’d have to reassure these two that nothing was wrong yet again.

Shaking my head, I said, “We don’t have cause for concern yet. Some parts of the spell must be clinging to Raimie, otherwise, he’d have murdered us in our sleep by now. If at some point Nylion approaches one of us, we should restrict Raimie’s activities, but in the meantime, let’s take advantage of his unique abilities, yes?”

Because said unique abilities were currently the only thing granting us any measure of success in this hostile kingdom, much as I despised admitting to that.

Still, both Aramar and Marcuset looked unsure, and while I’d gotten used to that from the useless one, seeing it on my friend was disconcerting.

“You disagree?” I said.

“No, only…”

Sitting back in his chair, Marcuset sighed.

“Raimie’s a good kid, better than most who’ve come from your family line, and he’ll make a magnificent king someday. I know that idea makes you unhappy, Eledis, because you want the throne for yourself, but for once, you need to think about Auden’s people, not what you desire, my friend. If he’s allowed the chance, Raimie has the potential to become one of the greatest rulers Auden’s ever seen, but if the spell ever frees Nylion… it’s safe to say that unpredictability isn’t a desired quality in a leader. Forgive me if I’m wary of that chance.”

Marcuset’s confidence in the kid only hurt a little. My friend had always let passion rule his life, and since Raimie had displayed characteristics that Marcuset associated with nobility, he’d latched onto the kid as the next king. He didn’t understand that sometimes, nobility wasn’t enough when running a kingdom, and he probably never would.

Still, his naivety was manageable, so long as I was around to remind him of what real life was like. That situation was unlikely to change anytime soon.

For now, my friend needed reassurance that the Nylion situation was under control.

“I understand where you’re coming from, but I promise you that there’s no cause for concern yet,” I said, “and if there ever is one, we’ll deal with it. Together.”

“Just try to remember that Raimie’s family, Eledis,” Aramar said on those words’ heels.

Ever had he been eager to remind me of that sometimes annoying as hell fact.

“I will.”

Not that this fact would change what we’d eventually need to do, but I’d never say that to the boy’s Alouin damned father. 

“Now, we have busy days ahead of us, yes?” I said, eager to move on from what should have been a taboo subject. “Shall we tackle them?”

A week passed in a blur of activity. As the residents of Tiro and Da’kul prepared for their new siege machines’ transport, a flurry of messages flew between the bases. Two days ago, Marcuset had led the army out of Tiro to meet the parade of trebuchets and catapults rolling out of the fort.

Conversely, Raimie and his saboteur team would be departing for the Birthing Grounds in the next few hours, meaning to arrive there before the bombardment began. I should probably see them off, but considering what Raimie had left me to struggle with, I couldn’t be bothered to do that.

The kid had given me a unique challenge. He wanted Elisk captured in the next six months, a time long before Tiro’s limited resources would fail and we’d be forced into raiding towns for food.

This unnecessary rush had a sneer pulling at my mouth. With it, Raimie showed such weakness!

The people in those villages were the subjects of the Audish king. Their food technically belonged to whoever had a legitimate claim to the throne, but Raimie insisted that we should let these peasants keep something that wasn’t theirs.

No matter. I could figure out a way of ending this war in half a year. Ignore the enemy’s overwhelming numbers. Ignore Elisk’s impregnability when defenders were manning its wall. Once again, the old man would fix these problems by himself.

A knock interrupted my thought, and I nearly flung the piece of parchment I’d been reading at it.

“WHAT?” I shouted.

At the invitation, a messenger hesitantly stepped inside.

“I have a report for you, sir,” the man said. “It’s from Thumb. He’s-”

Alouin damnit, I knew who Thumb was, and that certainly wasn’t because a certain imbecilic kid had decided to introduce us.

“Give it here,” I said.

Impatiently snatching the proffered document from the messenger, I scanned it with my mouth going dry.

“Shit!” I whispered once I was done.

“What is it, sir?” the messenger said.

At that, I jerked my head up, narrowing my eyes at the man. What was he still doing here?

But in the end, his presence wasn’t truly important, besides the fact that he might help me now.

“I need to speak with Raimie. Right now,” I said. “Where is he?”

Cocking his head, the messenger said, “On his way to the Birthing Grounds, sir. He left a while ago. Is there a problem?”

I had no obligation to answer this man’s question. He was just a messenger, but despite how much I’d rather keep this information to myself, panic forced the words out of me.

“Oh, it’s nothing too serious,” I said. “I’ve received news that a fleet of warships has weighed anchor at a nearby port. They’re offloading troops, and Thumb believes their destination may be Tiro.”

Sucking in a gasp, the messenger breathed, “Hell…”

“Indeed,” I said with a nod. “If this is true, we’re screwed.”

Adventures of the Hand 2.1

Thumb

This line was advancing at a ridiculously slow pace, one that was clearly wearing on the nerves of the people around me, and when a fight broke out several places ahead, I smiled. Human nature was so wonderfully predictable at times.

For a moment, I considered breaking up the fight, but doing that might attract the Conscripted’s attention, which wouldn’t be smart right now. Because of this, I was planning to ignore the arguing men, blocking out their noise with the most avid of attention, but when one of them reached for a dagger in his belt, I found myself between them, twisting the assailant’s wrist while resting a hand on my sword’s hilt. This single point of contact with another person was small enough that I could maintain it without my skin crawling, but still, I’d be grateful when I could get rid of it.

“That’s rather rude, don’t you think?” I said in a slow, relaxed tone.

The assailant merely hissed in pain.

“Now, what seems to be the problem here?” I asked.

The intended victim shakily pointed at his assailant.

“He said I tried to cut in line, but I did no such thing,” the man said. “I only wanted to see how many people were in front of me!”

With a rolling laugh, I said, “Is that all? That’s no reason to draw a weapon, mister. You should apologize for your behavior.”

Grimacing, the assailant shook his head, and this only made me twist my hold on him harder.

“Apologize,” I repeated with a smile.

Gasping, the assailant said, “My apologies.”

And satisfied, I dropped my grip.

“That’s what I thought,” I said. “Now please, try to remain calm. Remember where you are and who’s watching.”

Crumpling on themselves, the two men shuffled back into line, making not another peep more, and with the threat handled, the Conscripted soldiers who’d been quietly watching the altercation resumed their tasks.

I could characterize my visit to the port of Nephiron with predicable behavior like this. On arriving, I’d left most of my gear outside the city’s gates, abandoning my armor in favor of street clothing while relegating myself to only one sword. No one had protested that single weapon in the other ramshackle towns I’d visited, so I’d figured the same would hold true here.

I found it interesting that remaining armed seemed to be actively encouraged in Auden. The strong were the ones who survived in this kingdom, which was slightly unsettling.

This port city, Nephiron, could be a copy of Sev, the famous city-state across the sea, if the poverty found in that distant place had been subtracted from the equation. People crowded the streets here, going about their business in a furtive manner.

I’d never seen a more frightened people, whether in this place or in the other villages I’d visited, but even still, trade insisted on continuing. Outside, I’d find markets occupying street corners and criers on the fringe, promising the best tackle for one’s horse or the finest of steel to be found in one shop or another.

All a standard pattern for a larger city. It was almost sad that Doldimar, feared Dark Lord plagued with insanity, could run a city better than his counterparts across the sea, although perhaps I should attribute this prosperity to the region’s Enforcer instead.

While on my way to town hall, the only oddity I’d noted had been when a loud bell had rung, filling the air with its peals. At the noise, people on the streets had scattered, and within moments, Nephiron had become like a ghost town. Following the pattern, I’d faded into an alley, determined not to stand out, and I’d reached it just in time too.

Howling Conscripted soldiers had chased a group of terrified people in front of them, herding those poor people toward a depression I’d seen on my way into the city. When the last of the enemy soldiers had disappeared, Nephiron had woken up with its citizens trickling onto the street again, and even as I’d wondered what that commotion had been about, I’d continued on.

Now, I was getting close to the front of the line I’d joined about a quarter mark ago. So far, the annoyance of my wait had been mitigated by my fascination with the mosaic on the receiving chamber’s wall, a good replacement for watching the jittery bustle of the people around me.

In this place, those who wished to make deals with Doldimar’s army came before his servants to argue their case. Here, I’d determine if Nephiron was a city worth taking. Until then, I’d try to understand the pattern of broken tiles on the wall.

Soon enough, a cleared throat pulled me out of my inspection, and blinking, I found myself at the front of the line. Ah. Must have once again lost some time while I’d been so focused.

This line culminated in a table, piled high with parchment on either side, behind which sat one of those strange people in black that I’d only seen in Auden. At some point in the past, the king and Spymaster Middle had touched on these ‘Kiraak’, mentioning that the only way to kill them was to cut off their head, but this was the first opportunity I’d had to see one up close. If the situation suddenly turned bad, would I have time to behead this woman, and if so, what would be the best way to do it?

“Name,” she said on my approach.

“Marcuset,” was what I answered with.

It would be interesting to see the commander’s reaction on learning that his name had been added to the enemy’s records.

“What’s your business?” the woman asked, short and sweet for once.

“I have grain for the army’s use,” I said. “If you see fit to compensate me, I’d be forever grateful.”

Nodding, the woman said, “Grain’s currently going for fourteen gold chits a cart. Bring yours to the stable outside of town hall, and you’ll get your money.”

“Thank you, mistress.”

Bowing, I turned on my heel. While speaking with the woman, I’d only gotten a fleeting glance at the contents of the parchment scattered on that table, but if the information on those pages was any indication of the truth, Nephiron accumulated and stored much of Auden’s resources for Doldimar’s army. With the city’s capture, the Conscripted would quickly go hungry, and without the weapons gathered here, the Dark Lord’s soldiers wouldn’t have much luck with defending against a properly armed force.

It had taken three such waits in lines of equivalent length throughout this half of the kingdom, but I’d found what I’d been looking for, which meant I could go home. Maybe ‘Sin would be back too, and the two of us could spend a quiet night together. That happened so rarely nowadays.

As I strode through the receiving hall’s doors, intent on reaching my left-behind belongings and getting out of here, a handful of Conscripted soldiers flanked me. Oh, goodie.

Never ceasing in my stride, I asked, “Can I help you?”

As expected, none of them replied, but they subtly guided me away from prying eyes and into a small room. Great… this was just great.

Here, they gave me privacy, although a pair of them stood guard outside. For a breath, I considered incapacitating those scrawny men before leaving, but I didn’t think violence was required yet. I hadn’t noticed a pattern that would indicate the Conscripted soldiers meant to hurt me, and until that became the case, I’d wait to see how this situation played out.

Eventually, the woman who’d given me the price of grain entered the small room, giving me a single look before glancing over her shoulder.

“This is the one,” she called.

A vine-covered man joined her, patting her on the back once he saw me.

“Nicely done, my dear,” he said.

Beaming, the woman left as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, this new Kiraak approached me until he was a pace away, never wavering in his perusal of my body.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

I couldn’t help the annoyance sparking through me. These people weren’t following the typical pattern of social niceties, which was… irritating. I’d never known how to react in situations where people deviated from the patterns I’d painstakingly picked out over the years.

“Tell me, Master Marcuset, have you seen much combat?” the Kiraak asked.

As he’d spoken, he’d circled me, looking me up and down.

Shifting in place, I said, “Nothing serious.”

The king and his soldiers might have fought a sizeable force of Conscripted and Kiraak after landing on Auden’s shores, but by the time that battle had begun, Spymaster Middle had dispatched me further afield for reconnaissance. I’d missed the bloodbath, fortunately, and before coming to Auden, no large-scale fights had ever pulled me into their deadly embrace.

“Hmm,” the Kiraak said. “Have you ever been in a fist fight, then?”

Wincing, I said, “More than I’d care to admit.”

What an understatement. I firmly did not think of many a wonderful evening left behind in Daira.

“Fascinating,” the Kiraak said. “You’ll do quite nicely.”

“Quite nicely for what, sir?” I blankly asked.

In situations without a pattern, it was best to only display deference and civility, even if this other man had done nothing but unnerve me since first entering the room.

Stepping back with his arms spread wide, the Kiraak said, “For the pits, of course!”

The pits? I’d heard about these, but I couldn’t remember the context I’d heard it in. Maybe it had been in an overheard conversation or a report I’d scanned?

“Even more fascinating,” the Kiraak said, rubbing his chin. “Most candidates break and plead for their lives by now.”

That was… interesting.

“Why would I do that?” I asked. “You have no intention of outright killing me. This current pattern of behavior doesn’t call for it, and if that changes, I’m confident in my ability to defeat you.”

At that, the Kiraak burst out laughing.

“A good candidate indeed,” he said.

On the tail end of the man’s glee, a Conscripted soldier stopped in the room’s threshold, and on receiving the Kiraak’s nod, he stepped closer to give that man his news, which made the Kiraak stiffen.

“Of all the things to happen!” he snapped before glancing at me and subsequently making a face. “Take this one to the pits now. No need for the usual routine.”

Spinning on his heels, the Kiraak left at a run. The solider and I simply stared at one another for a moment.

“You going to make this hard for me?” he soon asked.

“For now? No,” I said.

Why would I do that?

With a faint smile, the Conscripted soldier said, “Then, I’ll let you keep your weapons, although how much good they’ll do you remains to be seen.”

At that, I shrugged, and without another word, the Conscripted soldier led me out of the room.

When we emerged onto Nephiron’s streets, I understood why the Kiraak who’d been eyeing me like a piece of meat had been called away. As with most cities on the coast, Nephiron climbed from out of the ocean and onto higher ground with its town hall resting on the summit, and from atop it, one had an unobstructed view of the sea. Contrary to what I’d seen when first venturing inside the building, a new line of specs marred the join between sky and sea now.

“Are those…?” I breathed.

“Ships, yes,” the Conscripted soldier said. “I haven’t seen such a thing in years.”

“Where did they come from?” I asked, more to myself than for an answer.

Shaking his head, presumably at my wonder, the Conscripted soldier resumed our paused journey, and I followed, thrown by this break in the pattern.

Most people in the west nursed an unholy terror of Auden. No one would have braved a journey to this cursed land except…

No. No, it wasn’t possible. No matter that it fit the pattern, I wouldn’t accept it.

Up ahead, the Conscripted soldier eyed me with his hand on his sword’s hilt.

“You going to make me drag you the rest of the way?” he drawled.

With a headache forming behind them, I rubbed my temples. Why had I stopped like that? I couldn’t indulge in any distractions right now, not when I still wasn’t clear about what was going on. I must focus on the here and now, not what might soon be coming.

With that in mind, I said, “I’ll follow willingly.”

And with a raised eyebrow, the Conscripted soldier continued leading the way.

Despite Nephiron’s regularly spaced streets and intersections, I soon lost a precise sense of my location, if not my way, until my surroundings started getting familiar again. I’d walked down this road when entering Nephiron earlier today. Given that it was near the city’s edge, I wondered if the Conscripted soldier was planning to let me go.

When we took a left instead of continuing forward, however, that theory crumbled to dust. No, this way led to…

The two of us stopped at the edge of a depression in the earth, and finally, the pattern clarified. Tall, curved blocks carved a stepped incline into this depression’s walls, all leading into a perfectly level floor in its sunken center.

“An arena,” I said.

Seeing this, I remembered when I’d heard of the pits. I’d scanned a briefing before agreeing to this mission, and references to these ‘pits’ had been buried within its contents. Apparently, Doldimar found it highly amusing to have his subjects fight each other until exhaustion saw the participants killed or otherwise maimed.

“I see why most candidates beg and plead before their march here,” I said.

Chuckling, the Conscripted soldier trotted down the steps, disappearing into the gaping hole in the pit’s far wall. Did he think I’d follow him? Sure, I’d been compliant to this point, but who walked into a situation like this?

Someone who felt an old, familiar itch crawling under his skin, that was who.

I patted at my tunic, breathing out a sigh of relief when glass brushed against my skin. If that was still there, I could indulge in my old habit. It had been such a long time…

In the dark beyond the pit’s hole, cells lined a hall. People had filled them to capacity with some blankly staring while others gibbered nonsense to an unseen companion. One crazed woman slammed her body against her cage’s bars when I walked by, reaching through them to swipe at my tunic.

Those howls faded the deeper into the earth that I plunged, soon replaced with silence and the occasional sob. When the soldier and I reached it, I recognized the people in the last occupied cell. They were the ones who’d been fleeing from soldiers earlier this morning, and on seeing them, I stopped short.

“There’s a child in there,” I said, pointing at a boy huddled in the corner.

After returning to look, the Conscripted soldier dismissively waved a hand.

“Old enough to fight,” he said.

“Really.”

Without my permission, my fingers twitched, and I did my best to still them.

“How old are you, kid?” I called into the cell.

The boy’s eyes darted between me and the Conscripted soldier, but soon enough, he answered.

“Eleven.”

Turning on my guide, I said, “That’s old enough to fight?”

I found this idea… odd. Most societies followed a pattern that protected children from violence, and while that protection’s length of time varied from culture to culture, most of them would have an eleven-year-old falling within it. I required clarification before I could continue.

Shrugging, the Conscripted soldier said, “You’d be surprised what they can do with such tiny hands and bodies.”

He paused for a moment, looking me up and down.

“Are you thinking about running now?” he asked. “Because I can guarantee that you won’t make it far. It’s almost time for the fights, so the Kiraak will be coming to the pit any minute now. If you don’t do as you’re told, they’ll tear you to pieces.”

That… was an intimidating thought.

Raising my hands, I said, “You’ll have no trouble from me. I was just surprised. The kid doesn’t fit the pattern.”

“Whatever you say, big guy,” the Conscripted soldier said with an eyeroll.

Without another word, he tromped down the hallway with me reluctantly following, but soon, the Conscripted soldier stopped beside an empty cell. When he gestured toward it, I stepped inside.

“I won’t lock the door,” he said. “You’ve been more than cooperative, and if you do decide to run, you’d deserve the fate you’d get.”

That was nice of him.

“Much appreciated,” I said with a nod. “Any idea of when I’ll be fighting?”

“Not sure, but I’d guess you’ll go last this evening,” the Conscripted soldier said. “You’ve got too much potential for it to be otherwise. So, you have some time to prepare and pray to whatever gods you believe in.”

Bowing, I said, “Thank you.”

For a moment, laughter won out over the sobs and screams found below the earth here.

“First time someone’s thanked me for bringing them here,” the Conscripted soldier said to himself as he left.

Once I was alone, I retrieved a bottle, hidden in a pocket sewn into my tunic’s sleeve seam. I grabbed the charcoal and parchment found within its glass, careful not to break it, and sprawling on the ground, I smoothed down my writing surface while considering how to phrase my message.

Every missive from a Hand member went straight to our spymaster. Middle then decoded it before bringing it to the king, and I knew precisely which code would most frustrate my superior. Using it, I described my experience in Nephiron as well as my assessment of the city, ending the letter with an explanation of my decision to investigate the pits. Almost as an afterthought, I included the oddity of those ships that I’d seen on the horizon.

As I folded this paper back into the bottle, I smirked. I wished I could see Middle’s face while he translated what his Thumb had written. Frustrating him like that had always been a pleasure.

After tucking the bottle into its hiding spot, I dismissed it from my thoughts. Sometime in the next few hours, that hidden pocket would flatten after a Zrelnach in Tiro had summoned the bottle.

Those Esela had been a fortunate find, speeding up the process of relaying reports to an extreme. I didn’t miss the days of dead drops, and I could only imagine that Middle liked getting reports from his subordinates on a daily basis instead of sporadically.

Unfortunately, the spymaster would have to live without my daily updates until I was finished with this place. I’d hidden my remaining bottles outside of the city with the rest of my gear. Without them, I had no reliable way of getting a message out of enemy territory. Hopefully, nothing calamitous would occur before I could retrieve my things.

With my tasks as a member of the Hand completed, I settled in to prepare for the fights.

Adventures of the Hand 2.2

Thumb

 

No matter how hard I tried, my mind wouldn’t go empty, as I’d like. My thoughts kept returning to the last time I’d indulged in this habit.

My opponent—an unimpressive little man—enters the ring, but just because he seems so unintimidating doesn’t mean this fight will be boring. Rolling my shoulders, I stretch, hungrily watching as my opponent strips off his clothing until only skin remains above the waistline. Then, this evening’s referee steps between us.

“I expect a clean match!” he shouts. “No funny business. We go until one of you yields, is incapacitated, or the round’s timer expires. Understand?”

Once he receives his acknowledgments, the referee chops a hand between us combatants.

“Begin!”

My opponent starts with several jabs at my face, each of which I easily block, but I make no move to counter them. The man’s pattern of attack isn’t clear yet, and if I want to understand it, I need more data. Fortunately, the other man is more than willing to oblige. His already ruddy face turns uglier with each of his failed attempts to land a blow, but I don’t pay that much mind because soon enough, I know his pattern.

Lunging around the man’s now predictable right hook, I land a solid uppercut on his jaw. Blood gushes from my opponent’s mouth as his teeth cut into his tongue, and the man topples backward.

“End round!” the referee shouts.

Unsteadily sitting up, my opponent spits blood into the dirt. He shoots metaphorical daggers at me, but I ignore them. Now that my opponent’s pattern is known, this fight has become tedious. I want to finish it.

“Marsuvius!” someone calls from the edge of the ring.

Reluctantly tearing my focus away from analyzing the fight in my head, I plod to the woman asking for me, frowning at her. I don’t know why this woman has continually insisted on acting as my promoter, both before, during, and after fights, but it annoys me how much she interferes in the one area of life where I can relax.

When I’ve reached her, the woman says, “You need to take your punches and bow out in the next round, big guy.”

Which only confuses me.

“Why would I do that?” I say. “That man’s pattern is predictable to an extreme. Now that I know it, I can’t lose.”

With her face going bright red, the woman hisses, “Fuck your pattern! Your opponent is a noble! If you humiliate him, he’ll make your life hell.”

If anything, my opponent’s social status makes me more inclined to ignore the woman’s suggestion. The nobility conform to a pattern of oppression that I, as an Audish slum brat, have always found baffling.

“If the two of you don’t mind…” the referee drawls from his corner, apparently eager to get round two underway.

Before I can leave, the woman grabs my wrist.

“Promise me you’ll take a fall,” she says.

Tugging my hand free, I turn my back on her without a word.

“Marsuvius!” she shouts behind me.

But it’s too late for anything more.

Chopping his hand through the air again, the referee says, “Begin!”

This round, my opponent’s pattern goes somewhat erratic, but that doesn’t happen to a large degree. I let the fight continue for a minute, hoping against hope that I’ve mistaken the other man’s predictability for something more interesting, but when my opponent again goes for a right hook following a feint, I abandon that wish. My surprise is colossal, then, when he slashes cold steel across my blocking arm, sending blood droplets pattering into the dirt.

As the alleged noble brandishes a knife, the crowd cheers, and I look to the referee to call foul and stop this fight. That supposedly impartial man, however, says not a word.

My opponent attacks again, and this time, blood follows each of those blocked thrusts. The noble wickedly smiles, which tells me that if I don’t end this fight soon, I’ll become another corpse in a pauper’s grave.

I won’t let that happen.

Here comes that feint and hook combo again, but this time, instead of blocking the right hook, I catch my opponent’s unarmed hand and squeeze. Bones unnaturally bend beneath my fingers, making the noble howl.

Confident that this injury will incapacitate him, thus ending the fight, I retreat, but my opponent follows me, jabbing at my chest with the knife. Again, this isn’t what I expected, and it makes me slow. I shift my body enough that the blade fails to reach my heart, but it embeds, hilt-deep, into the meat of my arm with its tip painfully bouncing off of bone.

While holding the noble off, I can’t rip my eyes off of that knife’s hilt. This isn’t right. The rules say that weapons aren’t allowed in these fights. They say a match is over when someone is severely wounded. They say that the referee will enforce those rules.

Rules are the pinnacle of human patterns, and patterns are the essence of life. They must not be broken, otherwise, chaos takes over and society collapses. THIS ISN’T RIGHT.

But wait. If… if the noble can break the pattern, does that mean I can too?

When I swing at him this time, my fist meets my opponent’s nose with a crunch, and roaring, I drop to my knees atop the fallen man’s chest. Plucking the knife out of my arm, I slam it into the noble’s face over and over and over and…

I took a shuddering breath. Those memories were of another man, one who’d lived a separate life from me. They had no relevance in the present.

Still, my thoughts refused to slow down, and when a Conscripted soldier came to escort me into the pit, my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. As I stepped outside, the setting sun blinded me with only silence in the air, and when my eyesight cleared, my confidence in my ability to escape this place wavered.

People with black vines squirming under their skin had lined the steps, filling this pit to the brim, with hundreds of eyes piercing me.

And not a single word was spoken. Only the occasional breeze broke an absolute silence.

So, when sniffling came from behind me, I faced the noise’s source with trepidation. A familiar, eleven-year-old boy was hugging his chest near the hole beneath the earth, shuffling in the sand.

“He’s going to be my opponent?” I said. “I thought the Kiraak liked a spectacle. A child won’t be much of a challenge for me.”

Still, a voice called, “You will fight.”

Shivering at the emptiness in that voice, I raised my hand in surrender.

“Whatever you say,” I shouted.

I didn’t like the idea of fighting someone who was unavoidably weaker than me. It wasn’t fun when I had an unearned advantage over my opponent, but when my options were to fight or to brave these violent people’s displeasure, I knew what my choice would be.

Besides, maybe I could use the fight to help the boy out. Unfortunately, when I lifted my fists to try that plan, the boy refused to move from his huddle.

“Come on, kid,” I whispered to him. “Don’t make me hurt you before you’ve had a chance to hit me.”

Sniffing back tears, the kid uncertainly matched my stance.

“Good,” I said with an encouraging nod. “Now, attack me.”

Again, the boy followed my instructions, swinging at me, and I let the blow land, along with several subsequent punches and kicks. From everything I understood about the Kiraak, they’d want to see a display of violence and would kill anyone who didn’t conform to this desire. So, I’d let the kid have a chance to prove he could be entertaining, given time, before decisively finishing this fight.

When that time eventually came, I avoided the kid’s overly ambitious strike, spinning around him. After dislocating the boy’s shoulder, I stepped back. Sure, the pain caused from this injury would be bad, but the boy would be able to recover, quickly returning to health and heartiness.

I faced the audience.

“Good enough?” I shouted over the kid’s screaming.

To my surprise, something landed on my back, and tiny fingernails were raked across my cheeks and neck, engaging long-held instincts. Dropping to the ground, I rolled backward, crushing and subsequently shedding a recently added weight. Once I was back on my feet, I warily watched the kid, flattened into the sand, but that boy didn’t move with only hiccupping sobs to shake his frame.

I didn’t understand. According to accepted decorum, the injury I’d imparted should have ended this fight. I’d proven I was the better brawler, and wasn’t demonstrating superiority the point of contests like this? I should be facing my next opponent, not warily circling the one I’d already bested.

“Why haven’t you sent out my next challenger?” I asked. “Yes, this kid did well, but he’s no match for me.”

This had a rustle breaking the audience’s stillness.

“Where did you find this one, Overseer?” an overly amused voice growled.

A crunch and choking cough followed this question, briefly restoring a deep silence.

“The fight is to the death, Master Marcuset,” a decidedly more imperious voice eventually called. “Do you not understand how the pits work? You’ll stay locked in mortal combat with a string of opponents until you die or satisfy our need for entertainment.”

Snorting, I poorly tried to contain my laughter. That claim couldn’t be right. Sure, I’d only skimmed the briefing that had touched on the pits, but the words ‘mortal combat’ or ‘to the death’ would certainly have leapt off of the page at me.

Besides that, Doldimar had been in power for nigh on three centuries now. With the rate of his Harvests alone, that Dark Lord should be close to a complete cull of the Audish population, but if deaths from the pits were thrown into the mix as well, the kingdom’s citizenry would surely have passed from existence years ago.

Unless Auden was much larger than my fellow Hand members and I had suspected.

The voracious gazes fixed on me revealed how serious these Kiraak were about their demand, though. They sincerely wanted to watch a highly skilled brawler fight a child to the death. What the hell was wrong with them?

“We do as you ask, or what?” I shouted.

Following their command would test me in a way nothing ever had before. Forget the silly emotional rationale that was supposed to affect me at the prospect. Children were the future of humankind. To kill one was to end the possibility of future genius.

“You fight, or we kill you both,” someone from the crowd said.

Oh, how one amused statement changed things. Suddenly, my expected fistfight was no longer about providing entertainment but a visceral struggle for survival. Whose existence would continue at the end of this: the older, stronger man or the underdeveloped kid?

I stood over my opponent, and terrified eyes met mine.

“At least I can make it quick,” I said.

Without thinking about it, I snapped the kid’s neck, and the pit erupted into cheers while a Conscripted soldier dragged the body away. So quick. One child’s potential gone from the world, and already, the next challenger was stalking toward me from across the sand.

As he came, I idly remembered something about how pit fighters eventually lost their minds here, which made perfect sense now. Most couldn’t long withstand the emotional pressure that came with ending a life before something snapped in their head.

As for me, I felt nothing but disgust for the travesty that the Kiraak had forced upon me, and I quickly shook that off in order to face the next threat to my survival.

I had to.

Adventures of the Hand 2.3

Thumb

 

My next opponent—a stout man, madly smiling—stopped opposite me, and on inspecting him, I quickly discounted any challenge that he might bring. I could easily counter his pattern.

Soon, the cheering around us died, and I waited for the command to begin.

Instead of receiving it, I had to clap my hands to my ears as multiple bells across Nephiron started clanging, a clamorous tumult of ringing chimes—so much noise—and after a beat of stunned silence, the pit dissolved into movement. Howling, the Kiraak sprinted out of the pit, and Conscripted soldiers came forward to herd me and the other combatant away.

When we reached them, the holding cells were in the process of being emptied, and Conscripted soldiers were driving this crowd in the direction opposite the pit. I endured their shoving and screaming, holding back the panic threatening to claw up my throat.

Too many people in one place! I couldn’t read their patterns, and with chaos looming, my vision narrowed to pinpoints with black stalking along its edges.

When we broke into open air once more, creating space, I nearly collapsed with relief, but my torment wasn’t yet at an end. The Conscripted corralled me into a cart filled with prisoners, several of whom tried to bite and scratch at me. The cart bed was crammed with flesh, forcing every inch of my skin into proximity with someone else’s.

I could only stand one person’s touch for more than a few seconds, and that man wasn’t here. How long was I supposed to endure this?

As a final, bawling woman joined the group, a Conscripted soldier slammed the cart’s hatch closed.

“Get your cargo to Elisk as quickly as possible,” she called to the cart driver. “We can’t afford to lose the Dark Lord’s entertainment.”

After an acknowledgment, the cart jerked forward, slamming a mass of bodies into me. I was quite aware that I was hyperventilating, but until I could get away from the chaos of so many interwoven patterns, I’d never get control of my brain or lungs back.

At least black wasn’t threatening to drag me under, like it had been earlier.

The last woman loaded had been left hanging over the back hatch. As we departed Nephiron, her eyes landed on me, and if possible, her sobs became even more violent.

“My son?” she asked.

What was she-?

Oh, Alouin. The kid. She was asking about the kid.

Slowly, I shook my head, and the woman let loose a single shriek. For a moment, her body went limp. Then, she jerked herself over the hatch, tumbling to the earth, and the cart behind us rattled over that debris a breath later.

Seeing this, my panic subsided, replaced with something… other. I’d only experienced this sensation once before, but it shouldn’t be showing its face now. It didn’t belong to me but the man I’d once been.

The jingle of a key ring approaches my cell, which doesn’t match the pattern of the guards’ established patrol. Another three-quarter mark should have passed before the next one.

So, I unlace my fingers from behind my head, quickly sitting up. Shortly afterward, the third-shift guard swings open my cell’s door, and a stranger saunters inside with the guard quickly departing.

I stay perfectly still. With no indication of what pattern the other man holds to, I’m not sure how to act or what to say. The cell’s quiet must have become uncomfortable because the stranger soon shifts in place.

“I hear you’re good with codes,” he says.

And I shrug. I’ve unraveled patterns for Daira’s thieves guilds on occasion, whenever I’ve needed extra coin, but I wouldn’t call my work ‘good’.

“You’ve gotten yourself into quite the pickle, Master Marsuvius. Killing an ambassador from the Southern Kingdoms, even if the man provoked it, is never wise,” the stranger says, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Kaedesa was furious about that until I told her about your unique skills.”

He ceases his flow of words as if expecting a response, but I have nothing to say. When they pulled me off the nobleman I attacked, they said I was incoherent with rage. That I attacked several other patrons. That restraining me took four other brawlers’ strength. I remember none of it, just my opponent breaking society’s pattern and something subsequently breaking in me.

“Have they told you what’s happening come morning?” the stranger asks.

“Execution,” I reply.

It’s a fitting punishment. I doled out death on the man who broke the pattern and as a result, broke one of society’s most sacred rules. I deserve what’s coming.

“How would you like a grant of reprieve instead?” the stranger asks.

Cocking my head, I consider his proposal. Continued existence is, of course, preferrable to death, but this offer confuses me.

“Wouldn’t that break your laws?” I ask.

“The queen makes the laws, and she’s the one offering,” the stranger counters.

An acceptable line of reasoning. Which leaves…

“Why would she offer such a thing?” I ask.

“She has need of your abilities, although I suppose I should test them before we go any further,” the stranger says while retrieving a document from a breast pocket. “We found this among the belongings of the ambassador you killed.”

Accepting the sheet of parchment, I scan it. At first glance, it seems like a love letter to a mistress in Daira, but on closer inspection, I notice a familiar, coded pattern in its otherwise confusing words and…

“The ambassador planned to use his protected status to get close to the queen so he could kill her,” I say while handing the document back.

“Exactly as we surmised,” the stranger says with a half-smile. “So, would you like a stay of execution?”

I hesitate but eventually nod.

“Excellent! Welcome to the Queen’s Hand,” the stranger says, offering me a hand.

Reluctantly shaking it, I suppress a shudder at our point of contact.

“My name’s Oswin,” the stranger says. “I’m your spymaster, and together, we’ll create a little chaos.”

At that idea, I promptly throw up.

That same reaction was threatening to overwhelm me now. Only the angry glares of the people around me were keeping my stomach contained.

What did other people call this sensation? Self-disgust? Regret? Somewhere in between? Whatever it was, I couldn’t shake it. That kid’s eyes were burning into me, even now.

I could produce a slew of logical reasons for what I’d done in the pit. My king needed me. If I’d let the kid kill me, the boy would have died at the hands of his next opponent, and that death wouldn’t have been nearly as painless.

None of these rationalizations, however, had been floating through my mind when I’d snapped the kid’s spine. All I’d known was his life versus my own, and I’d chosen myself. It was a perfectly rational choice, one I’d made countless times in the past, but this one already haunted me, which was frustrating.

In a struggle to survive, nothing but strength should matter. Not gender, not genius, not age…

I buried my face in my hands, rubbing at my gritty eyes. What was I doing? Feelings like this shouldn’t distract me from my job. I was the Thumb of Raimie’s Hand. My sole purpose was to serve the king.

So, I carefully pulled my message in a bottle from its hidden pocket. This was the last report I’d be able to send for a while. Best to make it thorough.

Ignoring the curious glances directed my way, I added the information about the commotion in the pit and my current transport to Elisk at the end of my report.

So many Kiraak scrambling away from a favored form of entertainment and the appearance of ships on the horizon could only mean one thing. Someone else had invaded Auden, and they’d been lucky enough to make their landing at Nephiron instead of on an abandoned beach.

As I returned the parchment to its bottle, it disappeared, right as I replaced the stopper. This display of magic stirred something from the dejected people around me, but their reactions didn’t last long. They soon returned to listless staring.

As for me, panic took over once more. The creak of the cart’s wheels barely covered the noise of my ragged gasping.

Chapter 22: A Pit Stop

Raimie

 

We were halfway through the third day of our journey to the Birthing Grounds when Oswin pulled everyone to the side.

“We’re being followed,” he quietly told us.

Which seemed to surprise only me. Kylorian, Little, and Ryvolim all nodded their agreement while I looked on incredulously.

“What do you mean someone’s following us?” I asked.

And at my side, Dim clicked their tongue.

“What? You didn’t notice?” they said, almost sneering at me. “I thought it was fairly obvious.”

Sighing, Bright said, “Don’t be such a brute. Remember. He’s a little less… attuned—we’ll call it—than usual still.”

I tried to ignore them. As I’d expected, my splinters had been irritable since I’d closed Da’kul’s tear. It hadn’t yet become a problem, but still, I’d rather not reward their bad behavior with my attention.

Glancing behind our group, Kylorian said, “Yeah, I caught signs of it this morning. Any idea who it could be?”

As Little shrugged, Ryvolim chuckled.

“I have a guess, but I’m not sure if I’m right yet,” he said. “Shall I go surprise our uninvited guest?”

Oswin waved a hand back the way we’d come.

“If you think you can do it without trouble, I don’t see why you shouldn’t,” he said.

Hmm. That had been less caustic than he usually was with Ryvolim. With him presenting another persona, had Oswin started getting over whatever had made him so antagonistic to my friend?

“I’ll be off, then!” Ryvolim said.

With a loose salute, he spun on his heel and strode into the nearby brush. While we waited for him to return, I took a moment to enjoy the scenery around me.

After leaving Tiro, we’d taken a loose march through the Cerrin Forest, heading north toward a passage through the mountains. After reaching the other side, we’d entered a new region, one governed by Enforcer Dalinasth. Thank the gods for my Hand, taking the time to figure out which Enforcers reigned over which regions, at least on the western fringe of Auden.

This region claimed the straggling remnants of the Cerrin Forest, but then, that thick clumping of trees gave way to a stretch of plains. My companions and I had been traveling along the trailing ends of this for the last day or so, heading toward a town where Kylorian wanted us to resupply. While there, he and the spies in our midst were also hoping to gather any new intelligence that might have spawned since we’d left Tiro. This town was the closest to the Birthing Grounds, or so they said.

Oo, Marcuse had not been pleased about this part of my plan, the one thing I’d left unmentioned during our meeting. He’d kept pushing me to stay with the army, continually repeating that I’d need their protection until we got closer to the Birthing Grounds. Eventually, I’d had to tap into some of my newfound ‘authority’ to stop him.

I still wasn’t sure why he’d been so worried about me. He knew I could take care of myself.

Soon enough, a disturbance in the nearby forest led to Ryvolim striding out of it, dragging someone along by his tunic’s collar.

“As I thought,” he called. “One younger brother, as ordered.”

While speaking those last words, Ryvolim lightly tossed his ‘prisoner’ into our midst, and after he’d stumbled to a stop, Little and Middle groaned while Kylorian froze, and I slapped a hand to my face. Seemingly satisfied with this display, Ryvolim leaned against a tree’s trunk with his arms crossed.

Kylorian was the first to recover his voice.

“Hadrion?” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Wrinkling his nose, the teenager said, “Joining you, obviously. Oh! And Ren says hello, to you and Raimie both. She seemed exasperated about getting left behind again.”

Groaning, Kylorian rubbed his temples.

“You can’t-! I just… ugh!”

Turning away, he banged on his forehead for a moment before spinning back toward his brother with a finger pointed accusingly.

“Does Dury know you’re here?” he snapped.

That question seemed to make Hadrion uncomfortable. Shuffling in place, he looked anywhere but at his older brother.

“Technically? No,” he said. “I convinced him to let me train with those fancy Zrelnach that Raimie moved to the fortress. I was supposed to be headed there, but that wasn’t my real plan.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know. He probably knows I went off-script by now. The Zrelnach were supposed to send a message to Tiro once I reached them.”

Squeezing his eyes closed, Kylorian muttered under his breath, probably meaning for no one else to hear it.

“Alouin damned little brothers…”

But then, he strode forward to grab Hadrion’s elbow.

“All right. I’m taking you back to Tiro. Right now,” he said.

“What?!” Hadrion said. “No! I want to help!”

“Not with this, you don’t,” Kylorian growled. “This group will be the first into the Birthing Grounds. We’ll be the most in danger during the battle, and I am not letting you walk into that. Not like this.”

Practically squeaking with outrage, Hadrion struggled against his brother’s grip.

“Let me go! You don’t understand. I have to-!”

“You know… if you take him back to Tiro, you won’t catch up with us,” Oswin drawled. “You’ll leave Ryvolim without someone watching his back, like we originally planned, and maybe he can handle whatever comes his way, but maybe not. Do you want to be responsible if something happens to him?”

I narrowed my eyes at Oswin. The spy knew that my friend wouldn’t need any help in the coming battle, not with all of the special tricks he had up his sleeve. From what I understood, Ryvolim had accepted Kylorian’s offer of help simply to build upon my ties with the other man.

But Kylorian didn’t know this. Stopping short, he looked torn, and hell, if I couldn’t understand that. What did one do when one was caught between protecting a loved one and following through on a promise?

“Hey Ky, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone, preferably,” I said. “The others can watch Hadrion while we do that. He won’t be going anywhere.”

Slowly, Kylorian nodded, and as he released his younger brother, Little casually stopped at the teenager’s back, widening that now-horrid smirk of his.

I couldn’t spend too long looking at his healing scars, though. I knew they weren’t my fault, that Little had chosen to accept them as part of his duties, but still, looking at them made me feel guilty, and I didn’t know what to do with that.

Fortunately, Kylorian joined me quickly, and we walked a few paces away from the rest, far enough that they wouldn’t overhear us.

Huddling closer to him, I said, “Why not let him come with us, at least for a time? We won't reach the Birthing Grounds for a couple more days. Surely in that time we can find somewhere safe to ditch your brother, and once the battle’s over, we can pick him up on our way back to Tiro.”

Kylorian took a moment to look back at his brother before wincing.

“I don’t like it… but yeah, you’re right,” he said. “Still. Had-had’s always been the one Ren and I look out for, the one we… we have to keep safe. He’s already been through too much. I won’t let anything bad happen to him again, if I can help it.”

“I get that,” I said, “but this way, we can make sure he’s safe, and he’ll feel like he’s helping us in some way.”

Sighing, Kylorian nodded, as if in defeat.

“I’ll go tell him he can stay,” he said. “The rest of you should get ready for the afternoon’s outing.”

Ah, yes. That. I hadn’t been looking forward to our venture into Sanc. The last time I’d introduced myself to unknown Audish citizens, it had ended with most of them reviling me and a days-lingering threat of death hovering over my head. If I somehow messed up during today’s visit, revealing my identity, how would it go this time?

You will be fine, heart of my heart, Nylion whispered through my mind. And I will be there to help.

Fair enough, I said with a smile. Besides, I have Bright and Dim around for if things truly turn to shit.

…Right, Nylion said.

When I turned back toward my companions, I found Hadrion jiggling in place.

“I can come?” he excitedly said.

Rolling his eyes, Kylorian said, “This might be the worst mistake I’ve ever made, but yes. You can come.”

Cheering, Hadrion ran in a little circle before breaking into a flailing dance, which I watched with amusement. I was glad he was happy.

“Yes, yes, much hurrahs and all for joining up with a deadly mission,” Little said. “Can we get back to the march now? I’d like to reach this new town before dark.”

Mm, that was a good idea. I doubted Sanc’s residents would appreciate strangers appearing in their town during the night, given the many Harvests and other travesties that took place in Auden.

Gods, there were so many things I’d have to fix once Doldimar was out of the picture…

Or maybe not, Nylion said.

He got me to flick my eyes to Kylorian, and I nodded at the unspoken reminder. At some point, he and I should talk about how we’d handle our succession when… or if that eventually came. Maybe I could bring it up when we set up camp tonight.

But first, we had to get through the day.

Fortunately, the sun was still high in the sky when we reached Sanc. As my companions and I stepped into the town’s outskirts, people watched us with wary eyes while a few came out onto their home’s stoops or the street.

As planned, this was when Kylorian took up position in front of us. He’d made sure to roll up his sleeves as much as possible, showing off his Corruption-free skin. Earlier in the day, I’d changed into a set of plain trousers and a tunic, and while this would have been perfectly fine for me in the past, it had become less comfortable over the last few months. In that time, my uniform had become a sort-of second skin for me, and being without it made me feel… antsy, for some reason.

But both Middle and Ryvolim had said it would draw too much attention while in Sanc, and having those two agree on something had been a powerful argument to follow their suggestion.

Our presentation seemed to have worked for these townspeople. As we traveled deeper between the buildings, families and individuals returned to what they’d been doing, and we were allowed to reach a small marketplace unimpeded.

Sanc looked similar to Paft and the other towns that sat near Ada’ir’s Withriingalm. Wood-board houses with the occasional shed lined the thoroughfare with a few homesteads standing apart from the rest. The road itself was dusty and well-traversed, judging from the evenly spaced ruts forged down the center of it, and there was a mix of open-air booths and enclosed shops in town square.

What was completely different from Ada’ir, however, were the people. While the Zrelnach and I had been traveling through Ada’ir last year, the occasional armed party might have greeted us, but at the time, we’d been a veritable army, moving through relatively uninhabited land. Here, six people, or six visible ones at least, made up my party, and on seeing us, these people had hurried to hide their children in houses or grab any weapons within arm’s reach.

Scared. They seemed much more scared than anyone I’d met in Ada’ir or even Tiro.

When we reached the marketplace, I didn't approach shopkeepers and the like. Not only was I not very good at negotiations—not ones like this, at least—but I wouldn’t be the best choice for it in the first place. That honor went to Kylorian, who knew this land’s customs best, and the spies in our midst, who could fake their way through anything they didn’t know.

So, instead of talking with merchants or trying to get intel, as Ryvolim had taken off to do, I stood in the middle of town square, probably looking like a lazy lout. In reality, though, I was taking the pulse of this town, just… feeling what it was like to be here. Trying to put myself into the mindset of the average Audish citizen.

If I'd been born here, what would it have been like? Would I have looked over my shoulder for a Harvest or the next disaster to drop? Would I have felt like I was in constant danger, prepared for death to come at any moment? From what I understood, that was what Sanc’s citizens faced on a daily basis. Why was it so easy and somewhat familiar to imagine what that would feel like?

Dim interrupted my introspection before I could get too deep into it.

“That kid you took on has gone wandering,” they said. “Headed toward something delicious smelling too.”

Great.

Turning in a circle, I found Hadrion before taking off after him. He’d disappeared behind a house’s corner, and as I approached that point, I heard thuds and the clash of steel coming from nearby.

Hell. Had we somehow wandered into a fight for this town?

That idea had me putting on a burst of speed, which made running into Hadrion once I’d turned the corner hurt much worse than it should have. Somehow, I stayed on my feet, reaching for the teenager as I rebounded.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was…”

I trailed off, unable to speak a single word more.

A small, fenced-in yard lay behind the house, and in it, a group of children had formed a ring around two of them, both of whom were pummeling each other. I took a step forward, meaning to stop whatever form of bullying this was, but stopped when I saw the adult sitting on a nearby fence post. With her arms hanging from her knees, she was calling out to the kids in the center, carefully watching them. Why… why wasn’t she stopping the fight?

“I was wondering where I’d find this,” Hadrion quietly said.

I turned to him with my mouth gaping before slowly closing it.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Hadrion. What the hell is going on here?”

He glanced at me with a half-smile.

“What do you mean ‘what’s going on’?” he said. “Don’t you have training yards where you’re from?”

“Well, yes. Of course we do,” I said. “Pretty sure every kingdom has one somewhere in it. Why?”

Gesturing to the kids, Hadrion said, “That’s what this is.”

…What?

With every muscle locked in place, turning my head back toward the group of children was a fight for me. I watched one of them straddle the other, raising a fist back to punch the kid’s face and- and-

“How can this be a training yard?” I asked.

But as they’d emerged, those words had sounded far away, and I could swear fuzz had coated my tongue.

“No one in there looks older than what? Six-years-old?”

That couldn’t be right. Gods. It couldn’t… be right. Couldn’t!

“That’s right,” Hadrion said. “You start learning how to fight practically from birth here. Is that not how it’s done in…?”

The rest of his question vanished into the background. Instead, the words ‘from birth’ echoed on repeat in my head, and for reasons I couldn’t begin to comprehend, this made my stomach lurch. 

Slapping my hand to my mouth, I took one slow step back. And then another.

I didn’t understand. Why was this happening? I shouldn’t want to run, shouldn’t-

It was just some children, doing what they must to-!

“Gods,” I panted against my hand.

“You ok, Raimie?” someone… maybe Dim… asked.

Forcing my hand down, I swallowed while curling my hands into fists.

“I’m… fine,” I dazedly said.

Had to be fine, must always look strong, could never let anyone see an opening into-

GET AWAY FROM THERE NOW, Nylion shouted in my head.

Nodding to him, I pointed behind me.

“I’m just… going to…” I numbly said.

At the edge of my vision, a man appeared, flanked by several other people in uniform, and they were there but they weren’t but they were but they weren’t.

Barely keeping from screaming, I rattled out, “I’ll be right back.”

And then, I promptly ran the fuck away.

Chapter 23: Suspicions of Past Trouble

Ryvolim

 

I was in the middle of a pleasant conversation with one of Sanc’s farmers, gradually plying information about the Birthing Grounds from him, when Raimie flat-out sprinted past us, moving as if monsters were on his tale. I was on my feet, reaching for a weapon, before he’d passed, same as the man beside me, but when nothing followed him, we both slowly relaxed.

“What… was that?” the farmer said. “Is he with you?”

He glanced at me, suspiciously squinting, and I moved away.

“I’m not sure what that was, friend,” I said, “but I’m going to check on it regardless. Want to come?”

Snorting, the farmer retook his seat on his home’s porch.

“Nah. You have at it,” he said.

Perfect.

Lifting a hand in farewell, I started in a trot toward where Raimie had disappeared into a patch of trees nearby.

I almost missed him in there. No one was standing under these trees’ protection, leaving the copse seemingly empty, and I saw no traces of my friend anywhere else.

So, I opened my senses: hearing, smell, and the more mystical ones as well. A pocket of distortion was sitting high in the branches of a tree beside me, and at the edge of my hearing range, I could hear a voice mumbling.

“We’re ok. Not gonna get us up here. We’re ok.”

What the hell was Raimie doing up a tree?

Coming to a stop beneath him, I rested my hands on my hips.

“Raimie?” I called. “What’s going on?”

After a pause, my friend shouted back, “You… go away. You can’t get me up here, and I’m not coming down.”

What the…? Slowly, I took a step forward.

“Raimie. It’s me. Your friend,” I said. “Whatever’s going on, it’s ok. You’re safe right now, all right? Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

A pinecone flew from out of the tree to bounce off my head, and I stopped short with a yelp, rubbing at my scalp.

“GO AWAY!” Raimie roared.

And that raised, terrified voice pushed so many flashing memories, ones full of myself after a session with Reive, through my mind.

…Oh, shit. I might know what this was, and if I was right, it was not a good time for Raimie to experience it. I needed to get him down as quickly as possible.

“I won’t leave you here, Raimie. I would never do that to a friend,” I said, keeping my voice as soothing as possible. “Do you know where we are right now? This is Sanc, in Auden. Remember? We came here to resupply before moving on. We talked about that this morning. Right? You were being a lazy sod when the sun rose, kept asking for five more minutes in your bedroll, and I-”

“You smeared grass and soil all over my face to get me up, you asshole,” Raimie blearily said.

Oh, thank the gods.

I gave my friend a moment, waiting for him to speak again, and he did so within a few heartbeats.

“Why am I up a tree? I don’t… ugh, what happened?”

“I think I might know,” I called up to him, “but you’ll have to come down here before I can explain. I’m sure as hell not coming up to you.”

There was a beat of silence and then…

“Fuck,” Raimie muttered before raising his voice. “All right. Give me a second.”

With an abundance of noise, my friend slowly and clumsily climbed to the ground, which I watched with many a wince. Raimie was usually much nimbler than this, but then, I couldn’t blame him, if I was right about what had happened.

Turning to me, he brushed himself off before looking around.

“I was just beside Hadrion,” he said. “Where did that kid go? I was worried he was going to…”

He trailed off with his eyes going distant, and I hurried forward to rest my hand on his arm.

“It’s ok,” I said once again. “I’m sure Hadrion’s fine, and so are you.”

“Right,” Raimie slowly said before shaking his head. “So? What in the void is going on?”

Oh, boy. Wouldn’t that be a fun question to answer?

Before I could get started with that, though, a teenager trotted into view, releasing a held puff of air when he saw Raimie.

“Oh, good. You’re ok,” Hadrion said. “I wasn’t sure. What happened? I’ve never seen someone take off so quickly before, and that’s saying something.”

“I…”

But Raimie said nothing more, looking increasingly confused and scared, so I patted at the air, getting his attention back on me.

“Don’t worry, my friend,” I said. “I’ll still explain because Hadrion will most definitely understand what’s happened here. He’s the most kind and considerate kid I’ve come across in a while, matched only by you. Right?”

Huffing a short laugh, Raimie said, “Yeah. That’s right. You want to come over here, Hadrion? I… I think I ran off on you. So, can I reassure you that I’m ok with story time between friends?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Hadrion grinned so damn wide, ambling toward us.

“Sounds great!” he chirped.

Finding a nice spot of earth in front of me, he plopped to the ground, but Raimie and I remained standing. I wasn’t sure when my friend would calm down enough to relax like that, and I wouldn’t make him feel awkward by leaving him the only one on his feet.

How did I start with this again? I’d had to have this conversation a few times in the past, unfortunately, and after the many times I’d done it, I’d come up with a great way of explaining something that most would consider unnerving, a way that wouldn’t scare the listener.

Oh, right.

“I think we can all agree that bad things happen to people every so often, right?” I said.

While Raimie hesitantly nodded, Hadrion laughed.

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “What about it?”

“Well sometimes, when that thing is so bad that a person doesn’t know how to handle it, it gets stuck in the person’s brain, like a splinter,” I said. “It can remain like that, just sleeping, for decades at a time. Sometimes, it’s quiet for long enough that the person forgets it’s there, but sooner or later, they’ll stumble across something that reminds them of that bad thing.

“When that happens, the person will usually go through everything they were feeling in those moments of pain and fear again, and sometimes, the brain and body will remember what happened in perfect clarity. The person will react to a perceived threat, one that’s very real to them, however they did before. All of which is a perfectly normal and natural response to the bad thing that happened to them back then.

“I think that’s what happened here.”

If anything, Raimie looked even more confused by my explanation, but Hadrion seemed to understand.

“Oh….” he said. “Yeah, that makes sense. I’ve had that happen sometimes. It’s not fun.”

Reaching out, he sympathetically patted Raimie’s leg, even as my friend’s brow crinkled.

“I understand what you’re talking about, but… I’m not sure if that applies to me,” he said. “I’ve never… those kids. I’ve never been in a situation like them. When I was growing up, I spent most of my time playing outside, so…”

I was a little lost, unsure what kids Raimie was referencing, but at this point, that didn’t matter.

“Hmm,” I said. “Well to me, it certainly looked like your body was reacting like I’ve explained. Maybe we can figure this out. Do you remember what you were saying when you were up in that tree?”

“Oo! Or did you see anything before you ran away?” Hadrion added.

When we both looked at him, he shrugged.

“What? Sometimes, I see things when I’m reacting to my 'brain splinters',” he said.

“As do I,” I quietly said.

Although I refused to think about what those things were.

For a moment, Raimie chewed on his lip.

“I don’t know,” he drawled. “I…”

Shaking his head, he collapsed to a seat beside Hadrion, letting me sit as well.

“There was this little boy,” he hesitantly said. “A group of people was chasing him. I think they were soldiers, maybe? I vaguely recall them wearing uniforms, but I’m not sure about that. Anyway, I knew… somehow… that he’d be in mortal danger if those people caught him, and he wasn’t running fast enough. So, I grabbed the little boy and ran for him. Got him somewhere safe. Or that’s how I remember it, at least. Not sure how it applies to what actually happened.”

Hadrion and I exchanged a glance, at which I shrugged. When I’d had to deal with my locked-tight memories, I’d never experienced anything quite like that, but I knew how varied humanity’s reactions to trauma could be.

Fortunately, Raimie seemed too lost in thought to have seen our interaction.

“I don’t see how that’s related to me, though,” he said. “It’s just… it’s just…”

He fell silent with his motions getting lethargic, which concerned me.

“Maybe this ‘bad thing’ was something that happened while we were traveling in Ada’ir?” I said. “Or you could have experienced something while here that could explain it. I’m not-”

With a hiss, Raimie jerked his head up. He fixed me with a fierce stare, even as he pressed one hand to the top of his forehead and groaned in pain.

“Stop. Pushing,” he snapped. “In the next few days, we will be going into combat, where we will all hover over a balance beam of life or death. It is an exceptionally bad idea to poke at these kinds of things right now. Or do you want… me to continue with these panic attacks and… ‘reactions’ over the next few days? Because that is all that will happen if you keep pushing. Gods. Why do I have to explain this to…?”

For half a heartbeat, Raimie seemed to space out, blankly gazing at me, before roughly shaking his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “My head is killing me right now. I’m not sure how what I saw is related to me or my past, but maybe we should leave it for now. We have to meet up with Ky and the spies before we can set up camp, and I need some rest soon.”

He glanced at me with a hesitant smile, and I… needed to listen to my friend. When I’d encountered people who handled trauma in the way he was, letting them lead the way had always been best. So, while I wasn’t sure why Raimie had reacted so fiercely to my final suggestions, I’d respect what he’d said about getting some rest.

“That’s fair,” I said.

While Raimie breathed out a sigh of relief, Hadrion hopped to his feet, resting one hand on his hip with the other pointed at an angle into the air.

“To find my brother, then!” he shouted.

Which only made me laugh.

As we climbed to our feet, he marched back toward Sanc, but before Raimie could follow him, I rested my hand on his shoulder.

“I promise I won’t push ,” I said, “but if you ever want to talk about this again, I’m open to it, whenever you’d like.”

With a crooked smile, Raimie said, “I’ll keep that in mind. For now, though, I think we have a kid to keep out of trouble?”

“Very, very true,” I said with mock seriousness.

I dropped my hand, letting my friend hurry after Hadrion, and if worry still clung to me as I followed in his footsteps, I refused to admit that out loud.

Chapter 24: A Friend's Story

Raimie

 

By the time dinner rolled around, I was exhausted in a way I hadn’t been for a long time. My fucking brain was hurting, right alongside my aching calves and feet, but still, I did what I could to get our nighttime meal prepared before settling around the fire with my companions.

As soon as everyone was comfortable, I said, “So, what did we get?”

I’d much rather focus on our efforts to gather information than any other strange things that might have happened today, no matter how much they might concern me in a variety of ways. Nylion had disappeared shortly after… then, and I wasn’t sure where he could have gone.

“Well…” Little drawled, “we might have a problem when it comes to the Enforcers side of things.”

He took a moment to chew a bite of his food while the rest of us impatiently watched him.

“I was talking to some people in that town’s tavern. Nice folks. They were super sympathetic to the ‘poor orphan boy who got his scars from a rogue Kiraak’,” he continued, batting his eyes as he shared his cover story. “Anyway, they told me that Doldimar’s left two Enforcers behind for this year’s trek to the capital instead of just the one. There were also rumors of a third too, but most of the tavern regulars didn’t take them seriously.”

“Any idea of which ones he’s left?” Ryvolim asked.

He was sprawled across the ground, propping himself up on an elbow, and contrary to Kylorian’s bug-eyed look of terror at his side, he looked perfectly at ease with the idea of handling twice as many Enforcers as we’d originally planned.

“My source mentioned Adrinosk, like we’d originally heard, but apparently, some girl named Arabelna has stuck around as well,” Little said. “The rumors of the third came from the fact that Foln apparently has yet to return to her home roost of Nephiron, but that doesn’t mean she’s stayed in the Birthing Grounds. Not for sure.”

“She has, by the way. Stayed there, I mean.”

Grimacing, I snapped my gaze to Dim, hovering around our group’s periphery.

“Dim. Are you telling me you could have let me know about this insignificant detail of the plan before now?” I said. “Because if that’s so, why the hell did you wait to share it until now? What was the point of visiting Sanc?”

Lifting an eyebrow, Dim said, “Besides getting more food so you lot don’t starve?”

As I continued glaring at them, I tried to ignore the stares coming from the distinctly real people around me. Soon enough, though, Dim made a face.

“Look, I thought visiting the town would be fun! Ok?” they said. “I didn’t expect you to go all panicked rabbit on me.”

As I jerked away from them, Bright hissed, “Really? Why bring that up now?”

Fortunately, Oswin was quick on the uptake for what had happened, drawing my attention back to him.

“One of your splinters confirmed the rumor?” he asked.

“In the snarkiest manner possible, yes,” I grumbled, vaguely wishing I could smack Dim.

They seemed to find that idea amusing, chortling into their hand.

“That might throw a kink into the plan,” Oswin said. “Ryvolim, will you be able to handle three Enforcers, possibly all at once?”

Making a face, Ryvolim said, “Probably? It’ll be much more difficult, and I’ll need a lot more time than I originally thought, but since I’ll have some help—”

Here, he nudged Kylorian with a mischievous smile.

“—I’m pretty sure I can manage it.”

“You’re ‘pretty sure’?” Oswin said. “I’d rather if you were definitely sure, considering how much of Raimie’s plan hinges on you taking out the Kiraak’s Enforcers.”

Abruptly, Ryvolim dropped any sign of enthusiasm or mischievous behavior, letting a piece of his true personality peek through.

“They will be handled, Oswin,” he said. “Of that, I can assure you.”

After a moment of intense scrutiny, Oswin shrugged.

“Fine, then,” he said. “Did we learn anything else of note? I know we were mostly interested in who Doldimar left behind but…”

On looking over the blank and unresponsive faces around me, I huffed.

“I don’t know about you, Oswin, but I’m happy to have the information we needed,” I said. “That seems like enough to me.”

Making a face, Oswin said, “Fair.”

“Mm!”

Kylorian finished with his bite before grinning at me.

“I figured out one way we could implement our plan while in Sanc,” he said. “We don’t have to talk about it now, but I thought I should let you know.”

Oh, good. I was glad he’d been thinking about that because I’d been a bit too… busy to give our proposed contest more than the slightest of thoughts.

“Raimie, what’s he talking about?” Oswin said.

I glanced at Kylorian, asking for his permission to share, and on receiving a nod, launched into an explanation with enthusiasm.

“Something I recently learned: Ky here is apparently my distant cousin,” I said, “which means he has as much of a right to Auden’s throne as I do. Before we got here, he and Tanwadur were using this fact to advance their resistance’s cause, and after I learned about it, I proposed that instead of fighting over who would lead Auden once this war is behind us, we should let the Audish people make that decision for us.”

Leaning back on my hands, I waited for Oswin’s response to this idea with anticipation. I was rather proud of it, but instead of looking pleased, as I’d thought he might, the spy frowned.

“Raimie,” he practically snapped, “you can’t keep running away from your responsibilities-”

“I’m not!”

As my shout rang in the air around us, Hadrion shifted in place while Little looked anywhere but at me, but I couldn’t help myself. After everything else that had happened today, Oswin’s accusation had hurt worse than it normally would.

Taking a calming breath, I continued, “I have accepted the position of king when it comes to our people, and so long as they will have me, I will carry that role. If the Audish people decide that I am the best man to lead them into their future, then I will do my utmost to be a good and just king for them, but forgive me if I want to give freedom of choice to people who’ve long been without it, especially for something as important as who will lead them.”

Oswin was angry with me. I could tell from his flared nostrils and the heat practically blazing from his eyes, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I wasn’t backing down from this idea. It was important to me in a way I couldn’t fully describe.

So, much as it might pain me that Oswin disliked it, I would carry through with it regardless.

“Well. Personally, I think that’s a good idea, sir,” Little said, breaking the silence. “People should always have choice in as much of their lives as possible, yes? And this way, you’ll still need your Hand for a while too.”

Oh…. shit. Was that why Oswin was upset? Did he think I was trying to abandon him with this idea? Why would he think that?

“That’s right,” I said, “and even if I didn’t require a Hand anymore, I’d still absolutely need my friends at my side. All of them.”

Slowly, Oswin relaxed from his tensed state, fixing his stare on the fire instead of me, and after a pause, he jerked his head in a single nod.

Beside me, Dim chortled.

“Hell, you lot are fun,” they said under their breath.

And I ignored them, as I must.

“Does that mean me too? And- and what about Ky?”

Rapidly blinking, I focused on Hadrion, who was curled over on himself while leaning away from the group.

“Of course I’m talking about you too, Hadrion!” I said. “Of course! You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I’d be honored to call you friend. And as for Ky…”

Hesitantly, I glanced at the other man, who was chomping away at his dinner as if nothing dramatic had happened in the last ten minutes. Given the small bits I’d seen of his interactions with his father, his nonchalance in the face of arguments didn’t surprise me.

At the sound of his name, he paused with his chewing, looking at me warily.

“As for Ky, I’d like to be his friend,” I said, “but I also wouldn’t want to force that sort of thing on him too.”

Choking, Kylorian pounded on his chest for a minute before he could recover.

“Yeah, that… friendship’s fine by me,” he coughed.

Which only made me smile. Gods, how many people could I call friend now? Five people, if I included Dath, left on the other side of the sea? Hell. I’d never thought this sort of thing would be possible. When I was a child, the only relationship that had come close to friendship had been with Nylion. I’d never thought I’d have the social acumen or a desirable enough personality for other, real-life people to call me friend.

But here we were now.

“Great. Two more people for us to keep an eye on, then,” Little said, rolling his eyes. “All right. So, since this is apparently going to be a thing, tell us more about yourselves, please. Kylorian, you’re a distant relative of our oh-so-magnificent king, plus some sort of freedom fighter. That makes sense. What about you, Hadrion? What’s your story?”

Oh, that had been rude.

“Ignore him, Hadrion,” I said. “We don’t need-”

“I’m originally from the Birthing Grounds,” Hadrion said, interrupting me with aplomb.

And everyone went silent. That had been quite the fact to drop on us.

“Had-had, you don’t have to say anything…” Kylorian quietly said.

But Hadrion shook his head.

“No, I want to tell them,” he said. “They’re good and kind. I can trust them with my story. So.”

He scooted closer to the fire, holding his hands out to it with his gaze pinned on its flames, but I could understand that. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to see how we’d react either.

“My parents were Conscripted soldiers, stationed in the Birthing Grounds. I’m not sure why I was born because usually, pregnancies are terminated there, as soon as they’re detected, and yet, I was brought to full-term.

“In the same way, children don’t typically… survive in the Birthing Grounds. Kiraak take particular pleasure in hurting kids. Something to do with the joy that the Corruption in them takes from stealing a child’s innocence. I don’t know. All I do know is that children either die quickly around Kiraak or they get taken away to be used in ways I don’t even want to think about.

“But I was left alone, for the most part. I don’t remember much of those first few years, just snippets. Mom doing her level-best to keep me at arm’s reach. Other members of the squad playing games with me when they had the chance. Being hidden away whenever an Enforcer from another region came to visit. It wasn’t the worst childhood but…”

Falling silent, Hadrion chewed on his lip, and as I watched him collect his thoughts, I knew why he’d been so understanding with me earlier today. No wonder he’d intuitively grasped what Rhylix had been talking about!

“Something changed when I was six or so,” Hadrion soon continued. “I’m not sure what happened, but if I had to guess, I’d say my parents learned why Adrinosk had let them keep me. I think he had designs for me… but that’s beside the point. Whatever happened, my parents weren’t ok with me staying in the Birthing Grounds anymore. So, they got me out. And Dury… Dury…”

When Hadrion buried his face in his hands, Kylorian reached for him, squeezing his knee.

“We found him in the woods, near Avernik,” he said. “At the time, he didn’t look good, like he’d been by himself for a while, so… we took him in: me, mom, Ren, and Tanwadur. Of course we did. He was such a tiny thing…”

And now, that family protected him like he was the most fragile of beings. That made sense.

What they didn’t see, though, was how much that was harming Hadrion.

“That’s why you want to come with us, isn’t it?” I gently said. “You may also want to help because that’s the sort of person you are. But mostly, you want to go back. You want to face your demons.”

Snatching his face out of his hands, Hadrion somehow pulled a grin onto a tear-streaked face, but I’d expect nothing less from him. This kid was the most resilient and compassionate person I’d met in my life. He amazed me.

So, I turned to Kylorian.

“I’m sorry, Ky, but we can’t stop him from doing that,” I said. “He needs to be with us when we attack. I know that wasn’t the plan but-”

Shooting a hand up, Kylorian said, “No, no. You’re right. I can clearly see that, but I still need to keep him as safe as possible. So, how will we do that?”

“Well, obviously, he shouldn’t go anywhere near the Enforcers,” I said, watching Kylorian all the while, “which means he can’t go with you.”

Kylorian scrunched his face up. He clearly wanted to argue that point, but after a moment, he nodded.

“So, he goes with your half of the team,” he said, as if it were a question.

“Yes,” I said, “and when he does, he’ll be with three incredibly capable people: a dual primeancer and two spies from his Hand. If we can’t keep your brother safe, no one else can.”

As he breathed out, Kylorian slumped.

“All right,” he said. “All right.”

There was a pause, but then, Hadrion snapped.

“You were planning on leaving me somewhere, weren’t you?”

At the same time, Ryvolim said, “I feel like I’ve missed something.”

And I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

Waving at the bristling people around me, I said, “I’m sorry! Truly. It’s just funny how often I get into situations like this. If I’m to be forced into fighting a bunch of angry Daevetch primeancers and their bloodthirsty horde, there’s no one I’d rather do it with than all of you.”

“If I had a pillow right now, I’d throw it at your head,” Oswin said with a scowl. “You and your propensity for changing perfectly good plans!”

Still laughing, I gasped, “I know. I know! I’m the worst.”

“Don’t you dare,” came from at least one of the people around me.

I couldn’t tell which, but then, I supposed that detail didn’t matter. Danger was coming for me, as usual, and as always, I’d go into it half-assed and barely prepared.

But they’d be with me. So, I’d be ok.

We’d be ok.

Chapter 25: The Moments Before

Ryvolim

 

And so, I found myself here once more.

Standing on the fringe of the forest that separated two Enforcers’ regions, I look out over a cracked and blasted land, grateful that Doldimar had kept such destruction to one portion of Auden this time. He’d certainly spread ruin like this over the whole of it in past cycles. I wasn’t sure what had withheld him from doing the same in present day.

I was glad this journey was almost over. Keeping to a bright and happy façade had been wearing on me, which hadn’t been helped by how little time I’d had to myself over the last week. I’d found enough of it to let my magic’s energy drain run its course, but besides that, there had been no time to drop my disguise, and unlike other instances where I’d done this, my pretense had been exhausting this time around.

If that weren’t enough, I’d been so busy and had such a lack of alone time that I’d been unable to speak with Creation since taking Da’kul. I needed to question them. They were keeping something from me, and I knew it. So, the fact that they’d been complacently hovering at the edge of my vision for the last week and I’d been unable to do anything about it hadn’t been pleasant.

All of which had made me irritable. I’d been fighting to keep the others from noticing my growing bad mood, but I wasn’t sure how successful I’d been with it, especially with the spies in our midst.

Rising from where the others had been discussing the plan into the ground once more, one of said spies, Little, headed toward me with a mischievous grin in place. Great. What sort of trouble was that kid about to throw me into?

As he came closer, I withheld from making a face at the stitches holding his face together. When he’d returned to Tiro, Little had gone to Chela for treatment, and while she was one of the better healers among our people, I could have done a better job than her. I hated that the necessity of my deception had ended with this young spy receiving less than the best treatment for his wounds.

As he joined me, Little said, “Relax. I won’t bite you. And drop the fake smile, would you? It’s clearly hurting you to wear it.”

I snorted at that.

“Noticed my tension, did you?”

Laughing, Little said, “I’d be surprised if any of us could relax, given what’s coming.”

He waved toward the cracked, dry land in front of us.

“But no. This tension’s been riding you for a while now, hasn’t it? Rhylix.”

Freezing, I turned to the spy in slow motion. Had Oswin shared my secret with his subordinates? I thought I’d impressed the importance of keeping it on him!

“What did you call me?” I said. “My name is-”

“Rhylix,” Little said. “Don’t try to deny it. I know it’s true, although you shouldn’t worry about the others seeing through your pretense. Your persona’s convincing! It almost fooled me, and I have a gift for reading people. But then, I was given some warning to look for you.”

“Really,” I said with my voice empty. “Who did that, might I ask?”

Because if someone unknown had figured out my deception, it could get… bad for me.

As if he hadn’t heard what I’d said, Little asked, “Back in Da’kul, how did you convince so many people that they saw your corpse? Did you doctor a body to look like yours? Or maybe you ingested an easily reversible poison. And why would you make people think you were dead? Was it to gain some sense of safety, or was there another reason?”

Gods, that had been a lot of questions, and far too many of them had struck close to the truth.

“None of that is your concern,” I said before repeating. “Who warned you about me?”

“Oh, you know. The one who did this.”

When Little waved at his face, I sucked in a gasp.

“Doldimar?” I somehow said.

Oh Alouin, what else had that bastard revealed to this spy?

“What did he say?” I snapped.

Shrugging, Little said, “Merely that you weren’t dead, despite what I’d heard. He gave me a message for you. It went, ‘Arivor has received your letter and says hello’. What’s that supposed to mean, do you think? And why does Doldimar know who you are?”

So, my message had reached my old friend. Sure, I’d happened across that straggling Conscripted soldier after I’d told Raimie about the Eternal War, months ago, but on hearing about how the citizens of Tiro had massacred the remnants of Teron’s army, I hadn’t been sure if the hapless kid had survived. I was glad to hear he had.

And horrible as it might be, I was glad to hear from my friend as well because if he’d received my letter, then Arivor knew an end might be in sight. Maybe that would give him a small amount of comfort.

“You going to answer my questions?” Little said.

As I looked him over, I understood why he seemed so agitated. I’d had what must seem like a secret correspondence with the enemy. He was probably questioning whether I was a traitor.

Sighing, I said, “Raimie knows everything there is to know about me, including any relationship I might hold with the Dark Lord. If he’s seen fit to keep details about that from you, then I don’t see why I should share my secrets. You seem trustworthy, Little, but the things in my past have a tendency to get good people killed. I don’t want that for you, if I can help it.”

Cocking his head, Little examined me for a moment before nodding.

“I can accept that reasoning,” he said. “You going to be ok if Raimie ever decides to spill your secrets to me?”

That was an easy question to answer.

“I trusted Raimie with the secret of my primeancy for months,” I said. “If he decides others can know a secret that’s even more deadly, then it will be for a good reason.”

And… there was that smirk again.

Clapping my shoulder, Little said, “Good to know, Rhy. And thanks for shaaaaring!”

As he sang those last words, he spun back toward the others, and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t know how I’d gotten myself surrounded by a bunch of snarky assholes, but it… wasn’t that bad of a spot to be in.

I hoped we could get through the coming battle with all of us intact.

For several more hours, we waited to hear the inevitable boom and crash of Marcuset’s bombardment, coming from the nearby Birthing Grounds. Each of us prepared for violence in the way that worked best for us. For me, that was to sit quietly, empty of thoughts, and wait.

When the ground eventually transmitted a rumble to the group, each of us was on our feet almost immediately, and we left the cover of the trees.

Little led us to a nearby trapdoor, hidden amongst the wild scrub and cracked earth. Its disguise was so effective that I might have missed it, if not for the spy’s directions.

I was the last one down the ladder, squeezing through the crack of its sinkhole with difficulty. Resisting the urge to light the space with Ele—Kylorian and Hadrion still thought I was an average human, after all—I instead descended the ladder in pitch-black, and at the base, I regrouped with the others. Raimie and Little advanced on the cave’s next opening, frantically waving the all-clear after a moment.

I’d been sure that we’d run into enemies while in the cave system. During a bombardment, these underground spaces would become the safest place to wait the siege out. Kiraak and Conscripted soldiers should be packing these halls, but even still, we soon emerged into sunlight without incident, which made me uneasy.

Was Adrinosk merely being flippant with his subordinates’ lives, or was this somehow a trap? I didn’t know how the Enforcer could have learned about our plan. We’d been extraordinarily careful with keeping its details secret, but still, I couldn’t help wondering about that.

Outside of the caves, the absolute noise of the bombardment made any conversation impossible, not that any of us would have risked doing that while so close to the enemy. The ground shook beneath our feet, which had me shooting a glance at the cliff’s edge. This close to the wall, our little group of saboteurs should be safe from all sorts of projectiles, especially since Raimie had ordered Marcuset to focus his bombardment on the center of the Birthing Grounds, but who knew how accurate those crude weapons of war could be? Hopefully, we wouldn’t get swiped off the face of the earth before we'd finished our side of the plan.

Little left us shortly after we reached the open air. Earlier this week, he’d shared his plan to resolve some unfinished business in the Birthing Grounds before meeting up with us once he was done, which had me worried. Why would we let a teenager, no matter how skilled and confident, wander alone through a horde of the enemy and during a battle no less? But Raimie had easily given Little leave to do as he liked. Even Oswin, who seemed to be overly protective of his youngest subordinate, had seemed unphased by this idea, so I’d had no ground to stand on with making a protest of my own. Hopefully, we’d see the spy once this was over.

Once we’d gotten into place, Raimie rested a hand on the wall, and shadows flickered away from that point of contact, racing up the cliff in a jagged zig-zag. At each place this line leveled off, portions of the cliff face cracked and lifted away from the rest, anchoring themselves into a ninety-degree angle.

Step by step, a stair rose from out of the wall.

I didn’t know when Raimie had learned how to do this with Daevetch, not that I kept track of his progress in that area. It frightened me how well he took to those types of magic application.

When the last step slotted into place, it didn’t take long before soldiers peered down at us from the top of an intimidating drop. One of them hesitantly put his weight on the first floating step, and when he didn’t plummet to his death, more soldiers followed his example. As Raimie’s army flowed into the pit, the bombardment above slowed down, which gradually reduced the ringing in my ears.

After a while, Raimie retracted his hand, ceasing Daevetch’s flow from him, and a knot in my gut loosened. I knew that dark energy didn't affect my friend as much as every other Daevetch primeancer I’d met, but the day would come when Raimie would wield those shadows and subsequently refuse to let go. I hated imagining what would happen to our friendship when that eventually happened.

Turning to me with a crooked smile, he wobbled in place, and I reached out to steady him. With the glaze in his eyes retreating in increments, he raggedly laughed.

“Sorry, Rhy. Holding that much power can be… intoxicating at times,” he said. “Letting it go usually leaves me dizzy.”

I could imagine.

“Are you all right to move on?” I asked. “We could take a break, if you need it.”

Glancing at how many soldiers had already descended to us, forming up in ranks nearby, I wasn’t sure how true that claim was.

“There’s no need. I can carry on, no problem,” Raimie said.

Pulling away from me, he slapped my back a few times.

“Good luck?”

My friend looked nowhere near recovered from his Daevetch use. Frazzled and distracted, Raimie probably couldn’t defend himself from even the mildest of attacks, but if we were to succeed with this plan, he needed to quickly reach the center of this place. I’d have to trust that he knew what he was doing. That effort was helped by the spy, hovering at his king’s back.

“You’ll watch him?” I asked Oswin.

“Like a hawk,” the spy said.

So, I let go of my concern.

“Good luck to you as well, my friend,” I said. “See you soon.”

After a smile and a wave, Raimie, Oswin, and Hadrion plunged into a break between the barracks, although buildings quickly concealed them, and chewing on his lip, Kylorian stared at the site of their departure for a moment. Gods, he must be worried about his brother. I wished I could reassure him that everything would be fine—if Raimie let anything happen to that kid, I’d be shocked—but it didn’t seem wise.

I led the way to the closest cave in the cliff face with Ren’s adoptive brother on my heels. Not only would an Enforcer like Adrinosk hole up in the safest place possible during an attack, but I could feel several sources of Daevetch coming from this direction.

I was surprised that all three of the Enforcers had gathered in one place. Of course, the one in charge would seek safety in times of chaos—Doldimar’s reign made it difficult for reckless Kiraak to rise into the rank of Enforcer—but the visitors…

Usually, they followed the higher calling that all Daevetch primeancers responded to. Their primary drive was Chaos, Corruption, Death, and more. Given that, I’d thought that Foln and Arabelna would be out here, drawn to the scene of carnage and—in their eyes—fun unfolding around us, but what I was feeling through my Ele source insisted that this assumption was wrong, for once.

Even with that bit of magic to help me pinpoint the Enforcers’ location, they still took me by surprise. As I skulked around a corner into a new section of the caves, a Daevetch bolt flew for my head, and shoving Kylorian out of the way, I rolled into a crouch with my sword and dagger already drawn.

“You all right?” I asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

Good. We should focus on our enemy.

Chapter 26: The Battle of the Birthing Grounds, Part One

Ryvolim

Near where the Daevetch bolt had cracked a cave wall, Kylorian had already straightened from his stumble with his weapon raised.

“Where did that come from?” he said.

“From one of them, I suspect,” I said, pointing.

Three men and two women had occupied the cavern we were standing in front of. I wasn’t sure which of them had thrown the bolt, not with all five of them lounging as if without a care. Two were playing dice in one of the cavern’s corner while another of them watched, one was flipping through a book at a lone table, and the last of them was casually tossing a knife over his face from where he was lying on a cot. Two of the men had nothing but squirming vines beneath their skin while the other three showed no signs of Corruption, only the black eyes that marked every Enforcer.

Our enemy, found.

At the table, one of the women casually flipped a page in her book.

“One of you take care of them already,” she sighed.

As if on strings, the two men who’d been playing dice shot to their feet, unsheathing their weapons, but none of the other people in the room moved. Did they think two Overseers would be enough to stop us?

“What do you think, Kylorian?” I said. “Can you distract those two?”

“I was expecting to fight regular Kiraak, but… I can handle a pair of Overseers for a little while,” Kylorian said. “Not sure if I can kill them, but I can certainly distract.”

“I’ll kill the Enforcers quickly, then,” I said.

“Are you quite finished?” one of the Overseers drawled. “I’m so hungry to see your blood. I can’t stand it!”

Recoiling, Kylorian said, “That’s… disgusting.”

But then, he attacked. I followed him into battle, but as I approached the pair of Overseers, I also flicked Ele at the man on the cot, Adrinosk most likely. He flinched away from the bolt before tumbling to the ground.

“Malkenthas, that one’s mine,” he growled.

Which had the Overseer who’d been swinging for my head stop halfway through that arc, forcing him into a stumble. Taking advantage of the opening, I slashed at his thigh. It was the best I could do, given how three primeancers had already begun rushing me, but hopefully, it would slow the Overseer down enough to give Kylorian a chance.

Any worries I might have had for my companion were wiped away in the onslaught of the Enforcers’ fury. As I should have expected, they didn’t coordinate their attacks with one another, bearing down on me with all of their strength instead.

When I used Ele to duck their strikes and therefore watch them make frantic readjustments, amusement tugged on my mouth. They obviously weren’t used to encountering a challenge, which was perfect. This should actually be fun, for once.

For a while, we simply played with each other, or that was how it seemed to me. I was trying to kill them, of course. Raimie’s plan required these Enforcers dead as quickly as possible for it to work, but it took me a while to find an opening in which to strike, and during that time, I let myself enjoy the fight.

At some point, Kylorian finally turned his back on me, and I swept an obvious wave of white light at my opponents, one that bowled them over. Before they could regain their feet, I rushed forward to behead one of the women.

As I was finishing with that, a flash of movement caught my eye, and I twisted, but not before cold steel pierced through my shoulder, which was a problem. The sword I’d been holding clattered to the ground, and snarling, the man who’d stabbed me brought his blade around in what should have been a killing blow. Backpedaling, I barely avoided that scythe of death. I used my dagger to block his next few, bone-shuddering strikes, each of which numbed my hand, and all the while, my injured arm dangled at my side, useless.

While caught in this blur of desperate movement, I noted the last living woman sprinting out of the cave before the fight for survival dragged my focus back to it. I’d have to go after her soon but first…

Considering how heavily his sword was raining down on me—like a hammer on a nail—Adrinosk must be getting frustrated, and my good arm had started tingling with pins and needles. Still, I clung to my dagger, aware of how quickly I’d die without it.

I wasn’t sure why this was happening, but what had kept me in perfect health for millennia was taking its sweet time with healing my injured shoulder today. Almost, I shouted at Creation to tell Restoration that it should hurry the hell up. I couldn’t take another death, not so soon after the last one and certainly not now. I’d opened my mouth to beg the splinter for help when light flashed around me.

Thank the gods.

Catching Adrinosk’s next blow on my dagger’s cross guard, I punched him in the face, reveling at his surprised jerk backward. Stumbling, he clutched at his nose with shock freezing him solid, but that was fine. It gave me time to retrieve my sword.

When he got ahold of himself, Adrinosk pressed his attack, barely giving me time to defend myself, but now that I was back at full health, his skill wouldn’t be enough to save him. When he overstepped with a blow aimed at my stomach, I deflected it and buried my dagger in his eyes, one after the other. He dropped his weapon to claw at his face, screaming, and I quickly circled him to end his suffering.

No time to celebrate. I joined Kylorian in his fight.

To my happy surprise, the kid had performed adequately in the time it had taken to finish the Enforcers. With his tendons sliced clean through, the Overseer I’d started with was down for the count, unable to reach his feet anytime soon, but the second one was still in the fight, allowing Kylorian not a single opening. Watching this, I knew that even with the kid’s impressive display of skill, the fight would soon be over if I weren’t here to help.

I blocked a strike coming for Kylorian’s head, yanking him behind me, and with his eyes widening, the second Overseer glanced around the cavern, taking in his fallen companions with tightening shoulders.

“What the hell?” Kylorian shouted. “I had that!”

Sure you did, kid.

“I need you to track down the Enforcer who fled,” I said instead. “Maybe you could defeat this man, but I can finish the fight more quickly. So, go. I’ll catch up.”

“But!”

“Do it, Kylorian!”

The kid might mutter something crude under his breath, but he did as he’d been told. As he left, the Overseer tried to throw a knife after him, but I blocked that potential blow.

“Your fight’s with me,” I said.

Circling me, the Overseer said, “But why should I fight you? You’ve already defeated the others, and each of them was stronger than me. If we fight, I’m going to lose, without a doubt.”

That was a good point, but what other resolution could come from this ? Corruption had infected the Overseer, and much as it pained me, that meant he had to die. Ele and consequently, I couldn’t allow a Kiraak to survive, and Kiraak couldn’t return to what they’d once been, or… I’d thought they couldn’t, until recently.

Slowly, I said, “You could… not fight, but I’d find it strange if you did that. I’ve never known one of your kind to surrender.”

Growling, the Overseer bared his teeth.

“That’s only because surrender means death!” he snarled. “I’ve done unspeakable things to the Audish population. What could I expect besides death if I gave myself over into their hands?”

He wasn’t wrong. The Audish people could be incredibly vengeful at times, but that wasn’t always the case and- and-

I knew this Overseer hadn't had much of a choice about whatever evil things he'd done. I’d like to see how someone once under the control of a primal force handled a life spent free of it.

So, I said, “I have a friend, another primeancer. He can take Corruption away from you, making you human again. If they knew that Daevetch no longer controls you, those you’ve hurt in the past might be more inclined to forgive you. Maybe you could work toward reconciliation with them instead.”

Pulling back, the Overseer stared at me with his muscles seemingly locked in place.

After a moment, he said, “If this is so, I’d like to be the first Kiraak you’ve known to surrender. To stop me from attacking you, though, you’ll need to knock me out. You haven’t killed Foln, my Enforcer, and her command to eliminate the Dark Lord’s enemies is still firmly embedded within me.”

“I figured as much,” I said.

But I only took one step forward to do that before pausing.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Raimie tells me that the process of clearing Daevetch from the body can be rather unpleasant.”

With a harsh laugh, the Overseer said, “It can’t be any worse than what Doldimar did to make me a Kiraak.”

I shrugged.

“Very well.”

With that, I shot Ele into the Overseer’s eyes before inducing sleep, and from the way he collapsed, it was a miracle that he didn’t land on his sword. After checking that he hadn’t been hurt, I turned to the last person left alive in the room.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I don’t… know,” the crumpled Overseer panted. “I want to be free but…”

He gestured at his legs, which might never be repaired, and I understood. Was living with such a restriction worth it when your past would always be there to haunt you?

“If you’re not sure, then I’ll make the choice for you,” I said.

When the man nodded, I sent him into as deep of a sleep as his comrade. I was the champion of Ele, yes? So, no matter how much Creation might growl behind me, muttering things about ‘eliminating the enemy’, I’d still preserve the life that I’d found here.

After doubly reinforcing the Ele holding my prisoners in slumber, I raced after Kylorian. This place only had one Enforcer left, and once she was dead, it would be ours.

Chapter 27: The Battle of the Birthing Grounds, Part Two

Raimie

Focusing in this place was impossible. With every step I took, I struggled to break free of Daevetch’s enticing touch, and each time, I barely kept myself from falling into a hole I’d never escape from. That dark energy had been so heavily utilized here that its remnants whispered temptation to me, promising power and an easy victory, both in this place and elsewhere. It would be so easy to draw from Daevetch, destroy the Kiraak and Conscripted, and never let that power go.

Maybe I should take just a little, enough to quiet this damn screaming need for it…

At my side, Hadrion asked, “Are we lost?”

With a jerk, I pulled myself out of my head, glancing around. How the hell had I forgotten about the teenager and my goal in the Birthing Grounds for so long? Damn. We could have circled this entire pit by now, and I wouldn’t know it.

“Hang on,” I said.

Squinting at the sun’s position in the sky and the trebuchets peeking over the cliffs’ summit, I quietly cursed. Hadrion was right. I couldn’t figure out where we were based on my present landmarks, something that hadn’t happened to me in forever.

And it was mostly due the effect Daevetch was having on me right now.

Dim, can I dull what I’m feeling? I asked. It’s distracting. Could get me killed.

With a hesitant frown, Dim said, “I honestly don’t know. Most of my humans have enjoyed places like this. I’ve never had one who’s wanted to block out the feelings they find here.”

Gods, they looked positively vibrant with their nondescript visage practically glowing. Bright, on the other hand, had wilted with a sickly aura hanging over them. It was somewhat reminiscent of the time after they’d been destroyed, and seeing it, I had to stop myself from asking how they were. They’d always gotten snippy with me when I’d done that in the past.

Almost croaking, they said, “Have you tried accessing my whole?”

And I wanted to smack myself for my stupidity.

“Duh,” I said under my breath.

But then, I drew light into my body, making my skin glow the slightest bit, and Daevetch’s lure faded, although not by much. Even if it was only a minute reduction, though, it was better than nothing.

Behind me, Oswin said, “Sir, is something the matter? You’re acting… strangely, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed it yet, but the Kiraak have started leaving their barracks.”

Of course they had. Without the threat of plummeting boulders hanging over their heads, those assigned to defend the Birthing Grounds should be hurrying to do their jobs.

Swearing up a storm, I dragged Hadrion into a patch of concealing shadows, where Oswin had already retreated.

“Are we lost?” the spy whispered to me.

I nodded, watching the Kiraak sprint past our hiding spot with pinched eyes.

“I’m having trouble focusing,” I said. “Daevetch is spread so godsdamn thickly here. It keeps demanding my attention.”

“Hm. Is that going to be a problem?” Oswin asked.

I gave him my best incredulous look.

“It already has, hasn’t it?” I said. “I think I can control it now, but… you should probably take the lead. For now.”

Rearing back, Oswin hissed, “What makes you think I know where to go?”

With my eyes narrowed, I glared at him.

“You’re the spymaster of my Hand, for Alouin’s sake!” I growled. “Isn’t doing impossible stuff, like finding whatever random place I need to be, part of your-?”

“Huh. Is that Little?”

Seemingly unaware of my conversation with Oswin, Hadrion pointed at a clump of Conscripted soldiers, who were pushing their way against the Kiraak’s flow, and yes, the short man prodding them along did look familiar.

“Oswin, can you-?” I’d started.

But the spy was already moving to intercept. Hooking his elbow around Little’s neck, he ruffled his youngest subordinate’s hair, and after a few unheard words, the two led their group of Conscripted soldiers to where Hadrion and I were hiding.

There wasn’t enough space here for everyone Little had corralled toward us, forcing most of them to form an awkward barrier at the mouth of an improvised alley, so I supposed I should thank Alouin for the Kiraak’s all-consuming obsession with violence. Otherwise, they might break free of their rush to battle, all to investigate this anomaly in their midst.

Glancing over a mass of unfamiliar faces, I said, “Who are these people, Little?”

I doubted the spy would have brought a bunch of enemies straight to me, but still, I couldn’t help my wariness of them.

“They’re defectors from Doldimar’s army, sir,” Little said, “and they’d like to prove their new loyalty by providing you with an escort to the center of the Birthing Grounds.”

Before I could decide whether I should trust people who could change their allegiance so quickly, one of said people pushed his way through the others.

“This is your king, Private?” he said.

With a crooked smile, Little said, “Captain! I present to you Raimie, rightful claimant to the Audish throne by birth and foretelling.”

For a moment, the captain only glanced between me and the spy, chewing on his lip.

Then, he hesitantly asked, “Are you aware that he’s glowing?”

That made Little scoff, although I wasn’t sure why he was doing that. Maybe he was hoping to stave off questions about my primeancy, but… I wouldn’t have that. Not anymore. I wasn’t ashamed of my magic, and I wouldn’t let other people make me feel that way. Damn them if they tried. I’d handle any threat to my life that came with this, if it meant I could stay openly true to a part of who I was.

“The glowing would be because of the Ele energy I’m holding,” I said. “Will that be a problem for you… captain, is it? Do you have a name to go with your rank?”

With a chuckle, the captain raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, no names here,” he said, “and I honestly don’t know if we have a problem yet. Right now, I’d say no… but that could change. I hardly know you and what you mean to do with… that.”

He waved at my glowing skin, but I didn’t blame him for his hesitancy. The captain seemed like a man who hedged his bets, and I could respect that.

“Fair enough,” I said. “As long as you’re aware that I don’t trust you either, we should get along famously.”

Throwing his hands over his head, Oswin growled, “Fantastic! We’re all nice and aware of our general unease of one another. Can we move toward our objective now, or is the plan to stand around, posturing, until the Kiraak kill us?”

Little lifted a hand to his lips.

“Goodness, spymaster. For someone who’s lost his way, you sure are eager to insult the people who’ve come to save you.”

Closing his eyes, Oswin hissed out a breath before fixing his eyes on Little.

“There were mitigating circumstances for us,” he said, “which I don’t have to explain to you, Little.”

Shrugging, Little said, “Whatever you say, spymaster. Just come with me.”

Fucking whistling a godsdamn tune, the younger spy practically waltzed out of the shadows, and as he moved, the Conscripted defectors surrounded the three out-of-place men in their midst, which I was grateful for. Any amount of cover was good right now.

Several paces ahead, the captain sidled up next to Little.

“You never said your king was a primeancer, Private,” he said under his breath.

“Eh. It didn’t seem relevant when we talked. I was more worried about returning to Tiro,” Little said before glancing at the other man. “Why? Does it matter?”

“Well… the only primeancers I’ve known have been crazy bastards,” the captain grumbled. “Granted, I’ve never met someone who uses Ele but…”

Chuckling, Little said, “Trust me. Raimie’s nothing like the asshole Enforcers you’ve been around, and he doesn’t command Ele alone. He can use both Ele and Daevetch.”

Hearing that, the captain tripped over himself, nearly face planting.

“Both?” he hissed.

And I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Yes. By the way, I can hear you two. Just so you know.”

Glancing at me, the captain clicked his teeth together while Little shoved his hands in his pockets, returning to the whistle he’d taken up earlier. Gods, much as I might like it, that kid’s flippancy and carefree attitude were going to get him killed some day.

When a fence up ahead broke the monotony of slapped-together barracks on either side, I started paying attention to my surroundings again. Beyond this barrier, an average looking house occupied the yard within, and despite Little’s much-advanced warning about this, its normalcy took me by surprise. I’d expected that a place dedicated to transforming humans into Kiraak would look more imposing or sinister.

As Little had also said, lumps were littered across the yard, piles of flesh and clothing. After making quick work of the gate’s lock—I’d been practicing with my lockpicking since Da’kul—I flung it wide, which had those lumps fighting to reach their feet, and soon enough, a handful of people jostled their way past me in their bid for freedom.

“Wait! Please,” I shouted after them. “We're here to help you, but you should stay put for a little while longer, just until the battle’s over.”

Most of those left in the yard settled back into the grass, but several people had already been lost in a panicked need to escape. Oswin stopped me from pursuing them.

“You warned them.,” he said. “Let them make the choice about whether to heed your warning or not.”

Slumping, I nodded before turning to the Conscripted defectors.

“Little, you and your friends can stay here,” I said. “Watch for Kiraak, although I doubt they’ll be a problem for much longer. Once Ryvolim has eliminated the Enforcers, they should go docile, and after that's happened, I want you to join the rest of our army in herding them into their barracks. I’ll get to them as quickly as I can.”

Tossing a loose salute my way, Little said, “Sure thing, sir.”

He spun in place, barking orders at his group of deserters, and I chuckled at the sight of those weathered people flinching away from that kid’s affected gruffness.

“Can you keep watch on them, Oswin?” I asked under my breath. “I don’t trust these ‘deserters’. Not yet.”

“I think that would be wise indeed, sir,” Oswin said.

Smirking, I said, “What? No quips about forcing the bodyguard to leave his charge’s side this time?”

Oswin looked completely serious as he said.

“If I can’t keep a threat out of that house, then I either don’t deserve to be your bodyguard or the threat is more than I alone can handle.”

“It was a…”

Sighing, I rubbed my eyes.

“All right, fine. Hadrion? Let’s see what this house of horrors holds for us.”

Forging through a loose crowd of emaciated people, I kept my chin tucked to my chest. I couldn’t see their pain, not when I couldn’t help them. I’d be able to soon! But not yet.

There was a span of empty space between the last of these people and the house, one that Hadrion and I quickly passed through, and uneasily reaching for the front door, I led the teenager inside. As soon as we’d crossed the threshold, though, I stiffened, and distantly, I heard Hadrion gagging behind me, just as faintly as I noticed Bright going perfectly white in the face while even Dim paused.

Someone had made changes since Little’s first visit to this place. A reportedly peaceful foyer was gone, replacing its furniture and decorations with stacked bodies.

They were piled along the wall with some stacks reaching up to my height and others, several rows deep. Each of these people bore a mortal wound. Some of them were so horrific that I couldn’t bear to look at them, but still, I heard them all breathing, a sound that loudly echoed in this tiny room.

In the center of it, a man was waiting in a chair, hugging his guts in his lap.

“You are Raimie?” he gasped.

In a fog, I said, “I… am.”

Struggling for air, the man unsteadily nodded.

“We have a message for you from our Dark Lord,” he said when he could. “Will you hear it?”

Oh, gods. Oh gods, oh gods, oh-

“Do I have a choice in the matter?” I asked.

The man in the chair chuckled, setting his insides quivering.

“You’re perceptive. I’ll give you that.”

And he took a breath, alongside every other person in the room.

“Raimie from the ancient line of Audish kings,” a host of voices intoned, clearly echoing a memorized speech, “welcome to Auden. Please, accept this gift. I hope you’ll enjoy the task I’ve entrusted to you.

“These are the people that you failed to dispatch during your battle against that incompetent fool, Teron. I thought you might like to finish what you started.

“Consider this the first of many such gifts. Maybe in time, you’ll understand what I’ve done for you here. I hope that eventually, you’ll learn how useless Ele is, abandoning both it and E in favor of joining my side of the War.

“With some measure of respect, I, Doldimar, the Dark Lord of Auden, greet you.”

They fell silent, and I couldn’t think through the cotton clogging my head. Doldimar had left these Kiraak, these people, in misery, simply to deliver a message? Why the hell would he think I’d appreciate that?

And damn. Doldimar knew about my abilities, my name, and… AND he thought there was a chance in hell that I’d join him. Alouin. I’d laugh if I weren’t so… numb.

“What does he expect you to do here?” Hadrion whispered into the quiet.

I couldn’t stop my throat from working because I didn’t want to answer him. I didn’t want to undertake the task that Doldimar had forced me into, but if I didn’t do it… if I didn’t…

Hefting Silverblade, I hoarsely told the kid, “I’m to deliver Mercy.”

Starting with the man in the chair, I moved around the room’s boundaries. At first, Hadrion merely watched me work with turmoil written across his features, but he helped me with the task soon enough.

Many of the Kiraak here thanked us before we separated their heads from their shoulders. Tears of relief streaked across some of their dirty faces, and by the time we were finished, blood had been caked onto our skin. My uniform, the one Oswin had given me what seemed like forever ago, was ruined, and I itched to tear it off of my body. Unfortunately, decorum wouldn’t allow that, so the soaked fabric remained pasted to my flesh, making my every body part crawl.

“I didn’t think the first Kiraak I killed would be helpless and begging for death.”

As Hadrion’s whisper filled the room, it sounded deafening, now that no labored breathing could compete with it, and cringing, I closed my eyes.

“This is war,” I said. “It’s not glorious. It’s people, thrown into battles. Often times, it’s for a cause they’ll never understand, but still, they’re forced to fight for survival. It’s despicable acts like this, designed to test your enemy’s resolve and instill doubt in them. Are you sure you’re ready to participate in it?”

I could hear Hadrion’s swallow, even from halfway across the room.

With his voice trembling, he said, “I already have, haven’t I?”

“Fair enough.”

When I took a breath, hoping to clear my head, I only smelled blood and death, and it almost had my roiling guts leaking acid from between the fingers I’d pressed to my mouth, but I couldn’t let that happen around Hadrion. Turning to him, I clasped his shoulders, ducking so I could meet his eyes.

“If it helps, death was the kindest gift we could have given these people,” I said. “If I’d made them human again, not only would they have endured terrible pain during the process, but they’d have died anyway, once it was done.”

When Hadrion recoiled, hugging himself, I bit my lip. What had I done to this kid? Having listened to his story about his past, I’d known what the Birthing Grounds meant to him, and still, I’d dragged him into this place once more. I’d thought I’d be helping the kid face his past, something he clearly wanted to do, but this? This was one more nightmare that would plague him.

I’d made a terrible mistake with this. Hadrion was too young to have appreciated the weight of what he’d been asking for…

The teenager straightened with something like resolve in his eyes.

“I know you’re right,” he said. “That doesn’t mean I should stop wishing for a better solution to problems like this.”

Or maybe Hadrion was more grown-up than I gave him credit for. Sheathing Silverblade, I winced at the thought of how much blood I’d need to scour from it later today.

“Do you need a minute?” I asked. “If you want, we could go upstairs for a bit. Little said that part of the house was relatively peaceful.”

Shaking his head, Hadrion sat cross-legged in the middle of the corpses.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to pay my respects to these lost people,” he said. “You go on, though. You’re needed, so… I’ll catch up.”

This made me hesitate—I was supposed to watch the kid, after all—but leaving him here wouldn’t put him in danger. A wealth of allies had surrounded this house, and if anything could get through them, then we were all probably dead.

So, I gave the teenager his space.

Chapter 28: Saving the Lost

Raimie

 

Thank Alouin for no further surprises. In the house at the middle of the Birthing Grounds, the ground floor’s second room looked exactly like Little had described it last week. Doldimar had left his victims dangling from the ceiling: several dozen captives, hanging in neat rows.

These people, I could save. Open cuts and slashes might decorate their skin, but each wound was superficial, something they could heal from, and I didn’t see any signs of deadly infection on them.

As I moved into the room, I brushed against the closest prisoner, swinging him, and that fixed his pained eyes on me.

“Please…” he rasped. “Let me down.”

How long had these people been left hanging like this? Glancing up, I tensed on seeing so many blue fingers brushing against the ceiling. Their captivity must have been lengthy for necrosis to have set in so deeply. If they had any hope of retaining their hands, I’d need to release them quickly.

So, I hugged the waist of the first prisoner I’d encountered, lifting his rope-bound wrists up and over a hook, but as I was lowering the man to the floor, he shifted his weight, and I lost my balance. Tumbling, we both landed hard.

Desperately, I sought the air that had been knocked out of my lungs, but my search got impeded by the forearm that bore down on my neck. Peeking over it, the freed prisoner feverishly grinned at me. Combined with the shock of my fall, the feeble pressure he was applying might have been enough to keep me pinned, if not for my primeancy.

I blasted the man with Ele, watching more prisoners swing in the wake of his flight. As I should have expected, desperate pleading and screams started ringing out, which soon had Hadrion stumbling into the room.

“Raimie!” he said.

“Keep back!”

As I’d shouted, the freed prisoner had tried to stand, but another Ele burst helped to flip him onto his back.

“Stay down,” I growled.

But the prisoner refused to listen, unsteadily climbing to his feet again. Thankfully, arms wrapped him in an embrace before he could collect himself, and although he tried to break free, the hold on him was tight.

“Quickly, Raimie!” Hadrion shouted. “I can’t hold him like this for long.”

Damnit.

What do I do, Dim? I snapped. I know I should draw Corruption out of him. That seems intuitive, but I need specifics.

Sputtering, Dim said, “I don’t… specifics? Are you kidding me? All of mine just force Daevetch into and out of the body. There’s never any finesse to go with it!”

Well, that won’t help right now, will it? I said. If I get this wrong, I’ll kill him.

“What?! I don’t even-!”

“Just think about it for a minute, dimwit.”

Even as my splinters dove into their typical argument, an urgency from within demanded my attention, and Bright’s suggestion faded to the background.

Nyl? Is that you? I said. What’s happened? Why can’t you speak to me? Did… did that thing back in Sanc hurt you-?

A distant sense of exasperation rose to stop my rapidly tumbling thoughts.

Right. Focus on the current-day problem, I said. Can you help with it? What do I-? Could you… I don’t know… take control? Like you did with Teron-?

The world shifted, making me lose control of my body’s strings.

Are you paying attention? Nylion snapped at me.

He didn’t wait for an answer, simply calling for the Daevetch within the prisoner opposite us. That man screeched long and loud, or he did so until he lost consciousness, but even still, black tendrils streamed from his limp body to our hand until those threads sputtered and died. Upon their cessation, Hadrion dropped the prisoner.

“Did that work?” he breathlessly asked.

“What do you think?” Nylion growled.

Hadrion didn’t seem to notice the sudden change in ‘my’ mood, only staring at the perfectly smooth skin of a man, newly freed from Corruption.

“Wow!” he breathed. “You can do it. I mean… I knew you could but… you can do it.”

Huffing, Nylion turned away from the teenager.

We cannot release them before they are cleansed, he said. If each of them fights us, cleansing them will take far too long, and I… WE need sleep soon.

Is that… why you sound so… angry? I hesitantly asked.

I’d never known my other half to be mad at me, and the idea of it… it shuddered something horrible loose from deep inside.

Pinching our eyebrows together, Nylion said, Regret? Why are you feeling…? You should not feel guilty, heart of my heart. Is it because of my mood? You should not worry about that. I have merely been keeping a more vigilant watch over you since Sanc. So, I may be a little… exhausted.

Oh. Oh, that made perfect sense. Thank the gods.

Damn, why was my relief about this so strong?

After a pause, Nylion said, Can you handle this cleansing job on your own? I do not know if-

Of course I can, I said. Of course. Although… please, keep an eye on me still? I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do this right.

Frowning, Nylion said, I do not understand what you are trying to say. You are giving me self-confidence and then uncertainty? What does that mean? Should I give you control or not?

Yes, I-

I stumbled from the force of Nylion’s departure. He must be truly tired if he was letting go that fast, and… I thought he might be angry about something without telling me what it was as well. He’d been acting a little more irritable in the last month or so, and I wasn’t sure why.

Maybe I should ask him about it face-to-face. I hadn’t been able to visit him for quite a while, needing uninterrupted sleep in the brief times I’d been able to get it. When I went to sleep tonight, I’d be sure to visit our shared space, but first, I had several real-world problems to tackle.

When I moved to the next person in line, Hadrion followed me with wide eyes.

“Do you mean to heal all of these people?” he asked.

Cocking my head, I said, “It’s not healing, Hadrion. I’m not taking on these people’s wounds. I’m merely removing the Daevetch in them. Now, hush. I need to work.”

Before I could get started, Dim popped in front of me.

“Hang on,” they said. “What’s going on with you? Bright disappeared for a second. Are you…?”

Bright had disappeared? That was concerning, but when I looked for them, there they were, watching me with a pained look on their face and their arms hugging their chest.

Gods, I still got freakishly terrified whenever Bright was anything less than ok around me. Back when I’d reconstructed them, what I’d done had seemed so intuitive, like the easiest—and yet, most painful—thing in the world. Now that I knew how impossible what I’d done actually was, something Rhylix and both of my splinters had been uneasy around me with, I wasn’t sure if I could replicate the process. The mental block of ‘first person to have done it’ would probably stop me from saving the splinter if I ever needed to again, and this made me anxious beyond measure.

It didn’t help that all parties who knew about that process had been on-and-off interrogating me about the few minutes that I’d needed to break their world view. Of them, Bright seemed to have finally accepted what had happened, if only in recent days, but Rhylix and Dim were still having trouble with wrapping their minds around it. It was another source of pressure added to everything else, and I couldn’t handle it, now when I was supposed to be finishing up my side of a battle.

Not now, I told Dim, hoping they’d drop the subject.

Fortunately, they did, and swallowing any apprehension I might have about making a mistake, I felt for the Corruption entwined around my first subject’s wet tissue. First, I carefully unlatched each of Daevetch’s holds on her before sucking that energy to me. A familiar feeling of invincibility clamored to take over as shadows rushed over me, but as always, I held the feeling at arm’s length. I couldn’t let it come any closer because if it did, I didn’t know what would happen. I wasn’t strong enough to resist the temptation that Daevetch always brought.

After what felt like seconds to me, the last of the Corruption in my subject’s body came to me, and I opened my eyes. Sprawled out on the floor nearby, Hadrion covered a yawn, grinning at my startled look.

“Is she human?” he asked.

Glancing over my subject, I nodded.

“Yes, I’ve removed the Corruption in her,” I said.

“You did it without her screaming too! Good job,” Hadrion said. “Took a while, though.”

Oh, no.

“How long?” I asked.

Humming, Hadrion tapped a finger on his lip before holding it in front of him.

“Maybe five times as long as the first time?”

Groaning, I rubbed my forehead. I wasn’t going nearly fast enough. When forming this plan, I hadn’t thought there would be a time crunch on me. If Ryvolim failed in his half of our saboteur mission, then my half was doomed to fail anyway. In the long run, it wouldn’t matter how long I took to give these Kiraak their humanity back.

But if Nylion was suffering right now, exhausted as he’d claimed, then I needed to finish this as quickly as possible. If there was one thing I’d noticed in our time since reuniting, it was that our wellbeing affected one another. When he was tired, I got cranky. When I was worried, he got over-protective and aggressive. When he was happy, so was I.

That didn’t mean our emotions necessarily matched, just that one of our moods might splash onto the other in this duo.

And I didn’t want to crash and burn in the middle of enemy territory. I also didn’t want to indulge in sleep until I’d at least helped the people in this room. They were the ones most at risk for long-term complications from Doldimar’s ministrations. I had to see them safe.

But I also couldn’t spend as much time here as I’d need, if we healed them my-

“I cannot keep doing these things for you,” Nylion snarled.

Spinning to the next prisoner, he yanked Corruption out of them, finished with the process over the course of a dozen breaths, and I was left stunned, floating behind our eyes.

Nylion had never taken control like this before. He almost always waited until he had some measure of consent from me before sliding into that front-most position. So, this abrupt takeover? It had addled me, more than I would have thought it could.

“Are you ok, Rai-?” Hadrion started.

“Fine!” Nylion snapped before wincing.

He rubbed his eyes for a moment, slowly leaking tension from our body.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to snap at you. I am simply… tired. And sick of always having to do tasks I would never have taken on if I had been asked.”

Softly smiling, Hadrion came closer, but he restrained himself from touching our body.

“That’s all right. You’re under a lot of pressure right now. I’m glad you apologized once you noticed what you’d done,” he said. “It must be hard, dealing with all of this.”

He vaguely waved around the room.

“Can I help you with it?” he said “Obviously not with the primeancy part, but maybe there’s something else I can do?”

Blankly blinking at this kid, Nylion was quiet for far too long, and I wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

“That… would be nice. Thank you,” he said. “If you could lower each of these people’s bodies from their hooks once I have finished with them, I would appreciate it.”

Grinning, Hadrion said “Sure thing, boss!”

He skipped to the woman that Nylion had finished cleansing, straining to take her weight, and all the while, Nylion stared.

I have not met someone like him in a while, he whispered. He is… good.

Yes. Yes, he is, I said.

But I said nothing more, waiting for Nylion to rally. Soon enough, he did so, and I made not a single comment more as he began his work, something he apparently hadn’t wanted to do.

…I wished he’d told me about that before accepting the task from me.

I watched Nylion go down the line of Kiraak, getting more and more concerned with each one he cleansed. As Daevetch’s power arced over our body with every instance of this, I might recoil from it, but Nylion embraced the feeling. After he was finished with his third prisoner, he started singing along to an unheard, discordant song, and three or four people later, he shoved the next one into a swing, chuckling when they released a pained yelp.

What in the-?

“Nylion. You need to release the portion of the whole that you’ve accumulated. Don’t let madness take you this soon.”

As Nylion laughed, I somehow gained enough control to focus our eyes on… Dim. Considering he was wielding Daevetch, I’d known my other half would have a splinter, but why did he have mine? Yes, we were two halves of a whole, a singular entity split in twain, but our personalities couldn’t be more different. We should have attracted different splinters.

“Oh, you have figured it out, have you? I thought it might take you longer,” Nylion sang to Dim. “Also. You should let me do as I please for once, Chaos. You have added inordinate trouble to an already chaotic life. Why can you not simply help me when I need it instead of scolding me?”

Ripping more Daevetch from his next victim, Nylion shot a tiny bolt of it at Dim. The splinter didn’t move, leaving a disapproving look fixed on their face, which I found weird. Dim had been nothing but … well, chaotic with me. What was with the suddenly serious routine?

“You’re being foolish,” they said. “Raimie needs-”

Jerking his hands down into fists, Nylion shouted, “Do not tell me what the heart of my heart does or does not need, you constant nuisance. If you mean to be so intrusive, then I shall be so as well.”

He jerked our face toward the splinter.

“You shall SHUT UP and WATCH!”

As Dim’s mouth snapped closed, they clawed at their throat, which had me wincing. I knew how much the Daevetch splinter despised getting commands from me, hence why I didn’t use them. Much as I didn’t like seeing Nylion do this now, I was also grateful for it. The sooner this was done, the sooner I could sleep. The sooner I could figure out what the hell was wrong with my other half.

Nylion moved on to the next line of prisoners, drawing more Corruption from them, and as an ecstasy of power pounded through our body, I choked on it. My other half, however, thrived. He skipped from body to body, less intent on the task of returning humanity to these near-Kiraak than on the Corruption held within them.

Somehow, I heard a door opening behind us, despite all the worries and turmoil trying to drown me. I shoved aside Daevetch’s constantly roiling temptation, focusing on learning who’d come inside, but Nylion didn’t move to investigate, too intent on his current project. When steel clashed on steel, however, I turned cold.

NYL! CHECK ON HADRION! I shouted.

Gods, what had gone wrong?

Chapter 29: My Fault

Raimie

 

My other half spun toward the noise, stumbling to a stop as soon as he had.

At the front of the room,, a black-eyed Enforcer was casually defending herself from Hadrion’s attacks with an amused smile distorting her features, after a breath, Nylion sprinted for them, releasing a portion of the power he’d accumulated at her head. Deflecting the bolt with a shadow-coated hand, the Enforcer dragged an off-center Hadrion against her chest, lightly pressing her blade against his throat, and Nylion halted, spinning his arms to keep from careening to the ground.

“Oh, good,” the Enforcer said. “I wasn’t sure if you cared about this one, considering how much Corruption you were consuming.”

Nylion, let me out, I said. I’m better at-

“Let him go,” Nylion snapped.

What was he doing? This was neither the time nor the place for him to practice with his social skills and-

“Why would I do that? If I did, you’d only kill me,” the Enforcer asked. “No. Let’s play hostage exchange instead. If I were to release this weakling, I’d need someone more important than him as a replacement, perhaps someone my master’s been wanting to add to his collection. If said person wouldn’t need to have primeancy forced on him, it would be an added advantage.”

When she flashed a smile, Nylion bristled.

“Are you talking about me?” he growled.

Godsdamned bitch, you godsdamned bitch, I will KILL you, I will… no, no. Cannot do-

Were those… Nylion’s thoughts?

Nyl, you should do as she’s suggesting, I said. Come on. You know we could escape her clutches later, once she’s let her guard down. It would be so easy…

“Why would I do as you have asked?” Nylion said. “The exchange you are proposing seems uneven, to say the least.”

Frozen in our mind, I hissed What the HELL, Nylion?

And Nylion blinked.

Heart of my heart. You are not asleep, he said. You- you should not be here. If this does not go well…

No. You listen to me, I said. That is Hadrion, Ren’s little brother. Go with the Enforcer. We’ll be fine, and you know it. Even if we couldn’t escape from her, we have Rhylix watching over us. Once we're captured, nothing would stop him from rescuing us, not even death.

“I thought you cared for this one, but perhaps I was wrong.”

Tightening her grip, the Enforcer pushed her blade into Hadrion’s neck hard enough to draw blood.

Taking a jerked step forward, Nylion said, “No! I will-”

But Hadrion cut him off.

“Don’t do it, Raimie! She’s going to kill me any-hrrk.”

Having punched the teenager in the throat, the Enforcer shook out her hand.

“That’s better,” she said.

Oh… I am going to DESTROY her. Godsdamned horrid bitch, just like her. All of them. I will annihilate them all!

With a slow breath out, Nylion calmly said, “What have you done with the rest of my people? Have you harmed them?”

Panic squeezed my thoughts into a pinpoint of need.

What are you doing? I shrieked. Drop your weapons and give up! Or give me control back! I can-

“They’re fine. I shade melded past them,” the Enforcer said. “The poor dears think that all’s well in here.”

Shifting Nylion lowered Silverblade a fraction more.

I cannot give you control, heart of my heart, he whispered. If this goes poorly, I will not have it on your hands.

…What? I said.

Ignoring the storm raging within us, Nylion said, “I will give myself into your custody as soon as Hadrion is safe in the hands of my people outside.”

“Ha! Why in the void would I trust you enough to take the first step like that?” the Enforcer said.

“Because I am not like your master,” Nylion growled. “When I give my word, I keep it.”

Holy hell, the outrage flooding from my other half… it washed over me, and I went limp beneath the deluge of it.

I was resuscitated when Hadrion’s stance shifted, turning both me and Nylion cold.

“You can’t give up, Raimie,” he said. “You need to be free if we’re to see Doldimar dead, so…”

Taking a few short breaths, he quirked a sad smile.

“Tell Ky I said I’m sorry.”

Then, he grabbed the Enforcer’s blade with his bare hands before using both his hold and a jerked forward body to open the artery in his neck.

“NO!” NO!

For a space absent time, two people controlled one body, completely in concert with one another, and the world slowed down. Hadrion slipped out of the Enforcer’s grasp, uncaring of the sharp edge that was peeling away his skin. Behind the woman, the room’s door banged open, revealing Kylorian’s anxious face, and the Enforcer’s eyes widened.

Screaming, Nylion and I shot Daevetch at the woman’s legs, and everything below her knees disappeared. She dropped to the floor, and we leapt on her, vaguely aware of Kylorian sprinting past us. We swung Silverblade in violent curves above our head and into her flesh over and over and over and over and over and over…

When the average pace of time resumed, the Enforcer was meaty paste beneath Nylion’s boots, and our throat was rubbed raw.

This is… my fault, my other half haltingly said. If I was better… or if I had seen-

No, it’s mine, I breathed. I was supposed to protect him.

The sobs behind us could only be Kylorian, and we let his grief speak to our sorrow.

We always do this, don’t we? I said. Assume responsibility for the horrible things others do. Neither of us is to blame for… this. She is.

Nylion kicked the last intact fragment of the Enforcer’s head, sending it skittering across the floorboards.

“What happened here?”

At that threatening tone, Nylion twirled in place. Kylorian was hovering over his younger brother with his sword drawn, and his cold eyes bored straight through Nylion and into me.

With his voice choked, Nylion said, “She took him hostage while I was working on a Kiraak, and before I could remand myself into her custody, he cut his throat on her blade.”

“And why would he do that?” Kylorian asked, taking a step forward.

Oh, shit. He was looking for someone to blame, and we were the closest target. Fucking hell, no! Why couldn’t it have been someone else?

Swallowing, Nylion said, What do I say?

And despite how bad of an idea it would be, I said, Tell him the truth. It’s what he needs.

No matter how much it would most definitely hurt us. Kylorian was the one in more pain right now. He needed help. Not us.

Never us.

When Nylion spoke, the words felt as if they’d been torn from me, no matter that I wasn’t the one speaking them.

“He believed that I must remain free so I can fulfill that damn foretelling and defeat Doldimar.”

Alouin, how that had hurt to say… or maybe hear, echoing in this miserable place like the loudest of bells.

“So, this is your fault,” Kylorian said.

Lifting his sword’s point, he advanced on us like an approaching storm, and cautiously raising Silverblade, Nylion backed away.

“I did not ask him to do what he did,” he said.

“You were supposed to protect him,” Kylorian roared in response.

Stopping short, Nylion went stiff, and on feeling all that was coursing through my other half, I reached for him, only to touch him too late.

“I am only responsible for protecting one person in this world,” he said, “and it was not your brother.”

Oh… hell. Oh, no. Oh…

“I’ll kill you!” Kylorian cried.

He attacked with a ferocity that startled me, but my other half countered it with ease. Every time Kylorian jabbed at us, Nylion blocked the strike. One of them swung, and the other dodged, but as in every fight I’d ever watched him in, Nylion had the upper hand.

When he landed a glancing blow along Kylorian’s ribs, he gleefully hissed, and I knew something had gone very, very wrong with him.

Nyl, I think you should let go now, I said.

Snarling, my other half rained a flurry of blows on Kylorian. The other man dodged and evaded as best he could, but he rolled his wrist too far on a final parry, which had his sword flying out of his hands.

Nyl…

Triumphantly shouting, Nylion kicked Kylorian’s feet out from under him before swinging his sword toward the other man’s face.

GIVE ME CONTROL RIGHT NOW!

I barely stopped Silverblade from cleaving Kylorian in two. Rolling away, he retrieved his sword, warily watching for my next attack, but instead, I flung Silverblade away from me.

“You’re right!” I said. “I was supposed to protect him, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t. But I didn’t kill him. That’s on the Enforcer.”

“You shouldn’t have killed her,” Kylorian hissed.

With a nod, I said, “I should have left that for you, yes. But ultimately, the blame for Hadrion’s death lies squarely at his feet. He decided to die rather than pose a liability to me, never trusting that I could save him or myself, and now, we have to live with his decision.”

“How dare you!” Kylorian choked out with tears spilling from his eyes. “He did it for you!”

“And it was very noble,” I said. “But it was also a mistake.”

For a moment, I hoped logic might have won out over emotion for once, but as I’d thought might happen once I was finished speaking, Kylorian rushed me. I sprayed a cone of Ele at his chest, pinning him to the far wall. Now, I only needed to maintain this flow of energy until…

Oswin and my best friend burst into the room. They started to take in the carnage, but I couldn’t wait for them to process the scene.

“Rhy!” I shouted. “A little help, please.”

My friend jerked his head up, flicking a thread of Ele into Kylorian’s eyes, and as he lost consciousness, I gratefully released my hold on white light.

“What happened?”

I wasn’t sure who’d said that, dazedly stumbling toward Hadrion’s older brother as I was. I didn’t know how long I stared at Kylorian’s sleeping face before the numbness that had overtaken me slipped away, but once it had, I slid down the wall next to someone who could have been my friend, huddling in a ball.

“Rhy? Can you-?” I asked without hope, gesturing toward the mess by the door.

After a moment, my friend said, “I’m sorry. He’s long gone.”

Nodding, I banged my head on the wall. The sensation felt nice, relieving some of what was threatening to tear me into pieces, so I did it again. And again.

I didn’t understand why I was so upset. Sure, Hadrion and I had been growing closer, but even still, we hadn’t had many interactions with each other. During the winter we’d spent in Tiro, he’d been more Rhylix’s friend than mine.

Unconsciously, I skittered my gaze toward my friend, which was a mistake. Ryvolim had assumed the distant, otherworldly look he donned when he was in the midst of fighting off a breakdown. Compared to that or Kylorian’s devastation—to Ren’s yet to be realized loss—what was my pathetic grief?

Hadrion’s gap-toothed grin floated into my vision, tearing through me, but before I could lose myself to the storm waiting in the wings, the door opened once more.

Little didn’t bother with commenting on the scene spread before him. He simply crouched and took my hand, and that single point of contact stopped me from once more smashing my head against the wall.

“I bring you good news, Your Majesty,” he said. “The Birthing Grounds are yours. The day is won.”

At this, I scanned a room full of hanging Kiraak, a mash of paste that had been an Enforcer, and the corpse that had been a friend. I crookedly smiled before anguish dragged me, kicking and screaming, into the maelstrom of its relentless hold.

Letter: My Darling

My darling,

I’m writing to you from Auden, the last stop on my tour of the human kingdoms, and as requested, I’ve given each of their kings the Council’s tribute while keeping in mind the favor you’ve asked of me.

When it comes to that, I’m sorry to say that your fears are valid, love. The humans have grown soft, content in their domination of us and the rest of the continent.

While before, I would have celebrated this, seeing it as a chance to gain our freedom, I can only view it with fear now. Your foretelling will allow me nothing less.

For instance, one of my sources of both fear and long-forgotten hope is that out of all the human kingdoms, Auden is the only one to maintain a standing army. Even with that depressing example, however, I’ve found a reason to fight despair. The tales of their prowess in battle are true in every way possible. Even their king shows nothing but strength and wisdom, traits that inspire only respect and loyalty in his subjects.

His heir, on the other hand, is another matter entirely.

The child is sullen, petulant, and exceedingly self-centered. If, as you’ve seen, this Audish heir is to become our last hope, then we’re doomed.

Maybe I’m judging him too harshly. You know how much I dislike children, so perhaps that has colored my perception of the boy. I certainly hope that’s right. I hope the future’s not as bleak as I’m thinking it will be.

I’ll be home soon, my love, but when the time is right, I’ll visit Auden once more. Hopefully, I can give you a better assessment of the Audish heir once the child has grown into a man.

Interlude 1.1: Apprehension

Heir to the Audish Throne

Today is a special day. Today, my father spent the morning with me. Today, we’ve had a party. Today, people tell me that I’m smart and good and nice.

Because today, I turned seven.

Master Kinlith says, “Birthdays are a chance for a prince to show his worth. Let the commoners laud you, Your Highness, but remember to be gracious in return.”

I don’t like it when he says confusing things, but sometimes, I understand anyway. I was a good prince today. At the party, I tried to be like my father, and my mother noticed.

She said, “You’re too young to be so serious, my love. Be a child while you can.”

Then, she gave me my present. Inside the box was you! My new diary. I love the way you look and smell. I love that you can keep secrets.

I love that my mother gave you to me because I love her.

But that’s all I wanted to say. Today, I turned seven. I was a good prince and made my father proud. Mother gave me a nice gift.

And best of all, I didn’t have lessons with Kinlith! I hope my next birthday is this good.

I am very confused, diary.

My brother was born today. His name is Nebailie, and I think he’s wonderful.

Why doesn’t everyone else?

The castle was so quiet this morning. Servants and nobles kept hurrying through it. They went out of their way to avoid me, so I thought I was in trouble.

Then, I overheard some people talking about my brother. They weren’t saying nice things, and when I went to stop them, they only thought it was funny.

Why? My brother was just born. Why do they already not like him?

It doesn’t matter. I think he’s perfect. My father let me hold him after I pitched a fit, and I’ve never seen something so amazing. He was sleeping, and when I saw that, I knew I had to keep him safe.

So, that’s what I’ll do, diary.

Thank you for letting me write today! I was so confused, but writing it out helped a lot!

Ok. I have to get this off my chest. So please, forgive me for a moment.

Kinlith. Is such. An ass.

I mean… I know I’m growing up, getting into those ‘troublesome years’ that people always talk about. I get it.

But I swear. If that stuffy tutor gets on my case one more time about ‘proper decorum’ and ‘lines of succession’, I will punch him in the face.

All right. I think I got it out. Maybe I should explain now.

I know it’s been a while since I last wrote in here. I forgot I had a diary for two solid years, and when I remembered that it existed, I may have been a little too busy with… stuff to do any journaling. Stuff involving girls. Also swords and learning to fight and shit like that.

Prince stuff. I promise it wasn’t all fun and games.

Anyway. Now, I’m back because…

Well. Because there are things happening that I don’t know how to explain to other people. And I’m not sure who I can talk to about it.

Which leaves me here.

I think something might be going on with my brother. Last time I wrote in this journal, I may have mentioned how much I love Nebailie? Yeah, that’s still true. My little brother is probably my favorite person in the world, and he’s just… not happy.

Not that I can blame him. People in the castle are the worst around him. They act polite and nice to his face, but behind his back, it’s all gossip and deriding comments, and I swear to Alouin, I’m going to get the next person who makes fun of him banished from the capital.

Sorry. Apparently, I still have some anger to work out.

But getting to the point.

Today, ‘bailie and I were in our usual lesson with Kinlith, learning about… something.

I’ll be honest. I wasn’t paying that much attention.

My brother was. He’s always been the better of us with studying, almost like he’s trying to prove his worth through our lessons. Which… it makes me furious that he has to do that, but whatever.

Kinlith asked us some questions about our neighboring kingdom, Lyzencroft, and I didn’t know the answer. I mean… I know that at some point, their crown princess and I will be getting married. Don’t know how I’m already engaged.

But beyond that, I don’t know much about Auden’s neighbor.

Nebailie was happy to jump on the question. He had the correct answer and everything, and Kinlith just had to be snarky about that. I don’t know why a tutor would make fun of his student’s smarts, all while making the insult sound like a compliment, but that asshole did it.

I was about to get in his face, but ‘bailie grabbed my arm before I could shoot out of my seat. He smiled and said ‘thank you’, like he hadn’t heard the disdain behind Kinlith’s words, and the lesson moved on.

How can he put up with that? If someone treated me so horribly, I don’t think I could be as calm about it as my brother was.

But he deals with things like that all the time, much as I hate it. Much as I still don’t know why it happens.

Alouin, I wish someone would explain it to me. I wish the subject of my brother didn’t keep getting brushed aside in polite conversation. I wish I could understand so I can help him.

I don’t like living in a lie, like there’s some obvious truth that no one’s telling me.

And I don’t like that he’s having to live like that too.

Well. I got myself into a spot of trouble today, but unlike the many other times when this has happened, this one might have been truly worth it.

Nebailie has been having a rough week. He’s been quiet and a little sullen, even with me, and that annoying childhood habit of his, where he refuses to meet people’s eyes, popped back up.

And this was not ok with me. Don’t get me wrong. He should be able to express his feelings in whatever way he wants. That wasn’t the problem. I just wanted to cheer him up, if I could.

So, Kinlith has this lady friend who's been dropping by the classroom during lessons. It’s pretty obvious that he likes her. Like… likes, likes her. And I decided to take advantage of that today.

When she came by our classroom this afternoon, Nebailie was sprawled across his desktop, hiding his face in his arms, and as usual, the… noble lady—see here how ridiculously sarcastic I’m being—ignored the prince in her midst. Or one of them, I guess.

She certainly seemed charmed by me, not that I was surprised by that. Most women seem to enjoy my presence, although… that’s started to become tiresome. I know they don’t like me, merely my place in the kingdom.

But this diary entry isn’t about me. It’s about cheering my brother up.

As our dear guest plied me for information on Kinlith, I was happy to tell her about all of his many… virtues, and after the first example of these, I caught Nebailie peering at me from over his arm before he ducked back into hiding again, which… yes! I knew that would work. As much as he might insist on being polite with our asshole tutor, I know my brother hates him.

Soon enough, I was able to drag Nebailie into the conversation.

How did it go?

“Hey ‘bailie, remember that time when Kinlith made you stand in front of the classroom for hours, even though no one was there and you’d only missed that one answer to his questions?”

Oo… if that didn’t get a response.

By the time I was finished with the lady, she had such a look of distaste scrawled across her face. Alouin but it was beautiful to see.

The best part? Kinlith showed up toward the tail end of our last story, and he made such a fuss, trying to explain himself. The lady wasn’t having any of it, trying to get around him without touching him, and because of how close we’d gotten to her, Nebailie and I were able to slip a spider down the back of her gown.

Hell, how she howled! It was so funny.

Look, I know what we did wasn’t right. And I know I’ll have to apologize to both Kinlith and the lady in the morning. Our father was perfectly within his rights to confine me to my room for the rest of the day.

But seeing Nebailie’s face glow like it did…

I’d do it all again. A thousand times more.

Something strange happened again today, and once more, I find myself in a place where I don't know who I can turn to. Who am I supposed to talk about these things when I don't even understand what those 'things' are?

Last time, I told you about how Nebailie and I pulled a prank on our tutor and how I was sent to my room as punishment for that. Well, I... may have... snuck out after writing that entry.

Yeah, I know I did something wrong, and sure, I absolutely deserved the punishment my father gave me, but I was bored. Sitting around, doing nothing, has never been my style.

So, I left, and wandering around the palace, avoiding people, was... interesting. I've never seen how the nobles and servants act when I'm not around. From what I saw, they seem more carefree. Less stressed. I don't know how to put that or why that is.

I mean... sure, I'm a prince, and that may come with certain privileges. But I've never used those privileges, not for anything that wasn't underserved at least. So, why are people afraid of me?

Or am I wrong about what I saw that day?

Whatever. That part doesn't matter.

The thing that confused me came after I'd been bumbling about the palace for a bit, already getting bored again. I couldn't engage in any of my typical hobbies, as those are a teensy bit... well. High-profile, I guess?

But anyway, I rounded  onto the hallway that leads to my father's study, and as I did, I heard something. Raised voices and... sounds. Not one-hundred-percent sure what those sounds were, but I didn't like them much.

I thought maybe my father was in trouble? I don't know why I thought that. Unlike me, he has Ele to help him if he ever gets into a fight, but still, I was worried.

I was about to grab a guard, but before I could, my mother came around a corner. You know. The one who gave me you. My diary.

She stopped outside of the door to my father's study, and the look on her face! I never thought I'd see something like that from her.

She was staring at the door like it was the most disgusting, reprehensible thing she'd ever seen, but then, one of the voices behind that door raised into a pained shout, and my mother... she- she smiled.

Why would she do that? I don't know who was behind that door, but still, I've never seen my mother take pleasure from another person's pain. She's always been so compassionate, toward nobles and peasants alike. For Alouin's sake, she goes out into the pauper's districts so she can help them every month or so!

So, what was this?

I don't know. It scared me. It was another of those pieces in my life that doesn't fit, you know? The ones that scream, "Hey, something's wrong with this picture! There's something going on behind the scenes. Something you don't know about."

Which bothers me. I'm the godsdamned prince of Auden! I should know what's going on in my own bloody palace!

But I don't. And this concerns me.

It's why I'm writing in you, though. Who else am I supposed to share these things with? No one else can know how afraid I'm starting to become of my own damned home.

I have to get it together. Nebailie needs me to be a good brother. My father needs me to be the perfect prince. And my mother... well, she's never needed anything from me, but I still want to make her happy.

I can't let these fears stop me from being who they need me to be. I've got to keep going.

So, yeah, I may write about these things here, but hell, if I'll let them out anywhere else.

Interlude 1.2: Apprehension

Heir to the Audish Throne

 

6th of Fifth, 3461

Recently, I’ve learned that this is the proper way to open a journal entry. While I must admit that I’ll miss the carefree way I’ve written in this journal in the past, I also hope that by changing my habits in a small way, I can start acting like the  crown prince that the court expects.

I’ll stop with the pranks. I’ll stop making eyes at every noble lady, but if they tell me one more time to stop spending time with my brother, they can kiss my…

 

The name of the brother I’d been discussing in my dia… no, my journal had me jerking my quill off of its paper.

Through the door in front of me, I heard my mother shriek, “He brings nothing but embarrassment on this family!”

And I frowned. Maybe I should have waited for my father somewhere else. This morning, he’d called me to his study for an unknown purpose, and I’d been waiting for his summons with my journal to keep me company. Or I had been until this disagreement had started.

My mom and dad had been fighting a lot recently, but every time a disagreement had started, I'd been ushered out of the room before I could figure out what the problem was. Today’s fight must have come from a powerful stressor. I’d never heard my mother yell so loudly before.

My father murmured something soothing at her, but she refused to calm down.

“I don’t like the boys associating like this!” she hissed. “I want you to send him away.”

There was a bit more murmuring, along with some wheedling, before my mother shouted.

“That’s not good enough! Have you ever considered that maybe he is the reason our son hasn’t summoned a splinter yet? Alouin knows you don’t deserve yours. Maybe Ele has placed the curse that should have gone to you onto our son instead!”

And my father’s gruff voice rose to meet hers.

“That’s not how it works, and you know it!”

The sudden quiet beyond the study’s door was loud enough to match my own shock. My father never raised his voice, and this anomaly, more than anything else could, had me moving closer to the door.

“The nobility is talking,” my mother eventually continued in a stiff voice. “If our son doesn’t show some sign of Alouin’s favor soon, they’ll start to think our family is lost. That could give them a reason to revolt against us.”

“Don’t worry your head, woman,” my father said. “I have a plan to help our son. Just leave it to me, like you always do. Is there some other concern you want to tell me about right now? Because I have more problems than your petty jealousy to tackle.”

My mother must have given him a negative because my father’s voice continued after only a slight pause.

“Then, our audience is at an end. Send the crown prince in on your way out.”

Even as the doorknob turned, though, his voice stopped my mother.

“Will you ever forgive me?” he softly said.

“For your association with that whore?” my mother said. “Yes, I might have forgiven you for that, but I’ll never forgive you for Nebailie. You put our family in danger with him, and in so doing, you’ve lost any love and affection I once held for you.”

Oh, boy. I needed to get away from this door. Eavesdropping was not only rude, but it was unbecoming of the heir to the throne.

Or so I was told.

But that was fine. I just needed to make sure I wasn’t caught.

“May I go, Your Majesty?” my mother rigidly said.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” my father just as stiffly replied.

Flinging the door open, my mother stormed through it, although her face reddened when she saw me hovering.

“Your father will see you now,” she said before gliding away.

Well. I hadn’t been quick enough with getting away. She’d caught me, and now, I’d never live that down. Not with her at least.

“Are you coming in, Your Highness?” my father said from inside.

And I sighed. Were those the roles we were playing today? King and heir to the throne, not father and son?

“I wasn’t sure if you were ready for me, Your Majesty,” I said as I came inside.

As always, my father’s study was intimidating. The sitting area behind the door was innocuous enough, stuffed with a pair of comfy armchairs, a side table, and a sideboard topped with crystal decanters. New-fangled oil lanterns with their self-contained flames lent the area a cozy atmosphere, strengthened by the shoulder-high bookcase opposite the door.

The scene above those books was what made a part of me quake like a child in the middle of a scolding. A pair of short, curved stairs on either side of the sitting area led to the landing above the bookcase. A railing currently blocked my view of the desk sitting in the center of that dais, but I could see the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. Considering how far the ceiling rose above us, they made quite an ostentatious display of wealth.

The study was located on the side of the palace that extended over a cliff’s edge, and quite a lengthy drop awaited anyone foolish enough to test those windows’ strength.

My father was sitting in one of the armchairs near the door, which had me breathing a sigh of relief. I hated the unnerving view in here, avoiding it as much as possible.

As I joined my father in the seat beside him, I said, “Your discussion with Her Royal Majesty sounded heated.”

“It was nothing,” my father said, waving away my concern. “The queen is still justifiably irate about Prince Nebailie’s presence at court, but that’s not why I’ve called you here.”

Really now? I never would have guessed.

“You want to discuss my lack of a splinter,” I said.

“Indeed.”

Leaning toward the sideboard, my father grabbed a decanter and a pair of glasses, pouring each of us a drink.

“As you know, every monarch in Auden’s long history has been cursed with the presence of an Ele splinter. Our tolerated shame is made bearable by how the populace refuses to call us ‘primeancer’, as is their right. Or they don’t call us that to our face,” my father said, sourly smiling. “Rather, the priests insist that they call us ‘Alouin’s blessed’ instead. This distinction, along with the power granted by Ele, is why the Audish monarch is acknowledged as Alouin’s direct representative throughout the world. It’s also why I’m constantly forced to participate in inane religious rituals instead of useful statecraft.”

Pausing, my father took a sip of his drink before grimacing.

“The queen and I, as well as several noble houses, are concerned that at fifteen, the current heir to the throne has yet to exhibit any powers or tendencies associated with attracting a splinter.”

Hell, I wanted to disappear through the floor. I knew all of what my father had said, having had it repeated to me far too many times, and it never ceased to remind me of my biggest failure in life. It took everything I had to maintain a perfect posture.

“I don’t know what to tell His Majesty,” I said. “I’ve done everything I can to attract one. My apologies that my compliance with the priests' suggestions has yet to draw Ele’s attention.”

Pausing in a sip, my father frowned at me.

“Oh no, Your Highness. You mistake me,” he said. “I didn’t summon you here to berate you for what others might perceive as a failure. Today, I mean to give you a solution for your predicament.”

The confidence in his voice grabbed my attention. My father might understand Kinlith and the priests’ frustrations with grooming me for this final task in taking the throne, but he couldn’t know mine. I kept my disappointment and self-loathing private, something that I didn't even share in my journal.

No matter how much I might try to be better—whether as a son, student, brother, or prince—my efforts didn’t seem to matter. My destined splinter had refused to join me here, on the physical plane. If my father could fix this problem for me, I’d be more grateful than he could know.

He handed me a drink, which I happily accepted.

“You know that Auden has been blessed with many minor tears, from which our economy grows and our society advances,” my father said.

Nodding, I said, “Of course. Kinlith has been thorough when covering the subject of economics.”

To my utter and complete delight. That subject was the only one that had ever captured my attention during my lessons.

“Something recently came through one of our tears,” my father said. “I believe it may bridge the gap between now and the time when your Ele splinter appears before you.”

Reaching over the arm of his chair, he retrieved a box, one that the shadows had hidden.

“What is it?” I asked as he pulled it into his lap.

Lifting the lid, my father offered the box’s contents to me.

“See for yourself.”

On taking the box, I found a pile of fine, gauzy fabric, filling it to the brim. Almost ethereal in nature, it looked as if even the slightest of touches would dissolve it into thin air, but still, when I hesitantly lifted it out of the box, I almost immediately dropped it again.

At my touch, a white light had glowed around this fabric, lingering for a few heartbeats before fading.

Fascinated, I poked at it, watching as illumination rippled away from my finger. When I folded it around my forearm, that same phenomenon repeated everywhere it touched my flesh. It was cold against my skin, metallic like chainmail but also breezy. Best of all, it blended against my skin wherever the glow appeared.

“It looks like I’m holding Ele,” I whispered.

Smiling at my reaction, my father said, “That’s the idea.”

When he gestured for the box, I carefully folded that precious fabric into it before giving it back with my vision blurring. I listened with half of my attention as my father said.

“We’ll have this tailored into suitable attire. Once it’s finished, you can reveal it at a prominent public gathering, perhaps when our Eselan diplomat returns in a few weeks. Such a display will surely quash any rumors about your lack of a splinter for a time.”

He couldn’t know how much relief this had brought me. Without the pressure of everyone’s expectations hovering over my head—for this at least—maybe I could focus on other, more concerning problems in my life.

Rising to my feet, I deeply bowed to my father.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said. “I don’t have words to convey my appreciation.”

“There’s no need for gratitude,” my father said.

I noted his grimace as I got back into my chair, but any apprehension that might have raised in me was soon erased by his next words.

“Kinlith has kept me appraised of your progress in his lessons. You’ve worked hard, and that’s prepared you for the role you’ll inherit from me someday. I won’t have the best candidate for the throne passed over because of a silly superstition, especially when your brother continues to shirk his duties.”

Making a face, my father looked away from me.

“I’ll need to discipline him again soon.”

I couldn’t move. Alouin above, I might have heard words like that from other people, but they’d never come from my father.

“May I speak plainly?” I asked.

Smiling, my father said, “Of course, son.”

Which allowed me to transition from the role of crown prince to that of a son.

“‘bailie only skips his lessons because Kinlith treats him with nothing but scorn, like the rest of court,” I said. “My brother is smart, fast on his feet, and has fantastic instincts. You should see some of the ways he’s avoided a fight in the past. They can be ingenious at times. If you want him to succeed, though, something needs to change. The hostility he always faces here isn’t helping him grow.”

“Hmm.”

Resting his elbows on his knees, my father steepled his fingers in front of his face.

“Is this true?” he said. “Kinlith isn’t tutoring your brother properly.”

At that, I nodded emphatically. Our tutor might have a few good qualities, but how he treated Nebailie wasn’t one of them.

Leaning back in his chair, my father said, “Perhaps your mother’s right, then. Maybe it’s time for Prince Nebailie to find his place outside of my court.”

That idea chilled me to the bone. If my brother left, I’d lose my only true friend but- but-

I couldn’t deny him a chance at happiness, a chance to leave a place where whispers followed him wherever he went.

“May I ask an… awkward question, father?” I hesitantly said.

I honestly wasn’t sure if I could. My father and I rarely spent time together, not when he was always busy with keeping Auden running. My mother had been the one to raise me.

At the same time, I knew my father might be the only person who could answer this question. Everyone else I’d asked it of liked to dance around the truth, and it frustrated me to no end.

“Son. You can ask me anything,” my father said. “You should know that by now.”

Maybe I would have if-

No. I should take the chance he'd offered me.

“Why does everyone treat ‘bailie like trash?” I said. “It makes me so angry. I swear. The next time I see another group of nobles whispering about him behind his back, I’ll- I’ll-”

“You’ll pretend you didn’t see it.”

At the snap in my father’s voice, I lowered the hands I’d raised, pushing myself back in my seat, if only slightly. A good crown prince would never abandon proper posture, even in the face of his father’s displeasure.

Fortunately, he quickly winced and waved for me to relax.

“All I meant is that you have inherited the burden of the throne, a burden that will be more than enough for you to carry,” he said. “Prince Nebailie’s burden will be his to carry, not yours. Even if that burden is because of my own failings.”

Looking away, he continued in a soft voice, “Nothing I do will ever make that up to him.”

“Your… failings?” I said. “What are you talking about? You’re… the king of Auden, the representative of Alouin in this world.”

He was my father!

“You can do no wrong.”

My father burst into laughter, doubling over from the force of it. It lasted for what felt like forever, but when it eventually faded away, he wiped his eyes.

“Thank you, son,” he gasped. “I needed that.”

“You’re… welcome? I think,” I said. “Why was what I said so funny?”

“Because…”

Scooting to the edge of his seat, my father took my hands.

“Because I’m not perfect. Not in the least. I fail in multiple ways almost every day.”

Looking at where our hands were joined, he released a slow breath.

“But what you’re asking about is quite possibly my biggest mistake. You see, several years ago, I was unfaithful to your mother, and your brother came from that mistake.”

He watched me through his eyelashes as realization swept over me, as my mother’s recent temper tantrums and the conversation I’d overheard earlier fell into place. The nobles’ behavior, the snide comments, every single thing I’d ever found confusing about my seemingly double life clicked into place.

Releasing my hands, my father said, “I had my reasons for the transgression, and some of them were very good. But they don’t excuse-”

“Nebailie’s my half-brother?” I dazedly said, only half-aware that I’d interrupted my father.

After a pause, he said, “Yes.”

“Then… who’s his mother?” I said.

Wincing, my father said, “A noble lady. Someone I sent away from court, for the queen’s sake.”

Alouin, everything made so much sense now. I looked at Nebailie from everyone else’s perspective, and I saw a stain on my family, a reminder of my father’s misdeeds, and a source of stress for my mother. Maybe they’d been right to…

No.

Nebailie was my little brother. Why should I care about the rest? Our relationship with each other was all I’d ever cared about.

Shrugging, I said, “It doesn’t matter. Thank you for sharing the truth with me, Your Majesty, and for the gift, but I have several more tasks to complete today. Is there anything else you need from me?”

My father seemed disappointed for some reason. What had he been expecting from me after revealing this? Absolution?

He wouldn’t find that here. He was, in essence, the source of my mother and brother’s suffering, and I would never forgive him for that.

With a wave, my father said, “You’re free to return to your duties.”

Hastily collecting my journal, I left without a word. I had so many new secrets to record in it.

Chapter 30: Broken Relationship

Raimie

 

Securing the Birthing Grounds and returning humanity to the Kiraak had become welcome distractions for me. Every slow, tenuous drag of Corruption from someone else’s body, every task that required my input, was delaying the time when I’d need to deal with Kylorian and the knot of grief and guilt beating against my mind.

The current Kiraak I was working on let loose a howl, and I flinched. I must have missed a site where Corruption had been biting into his body.

As he slumped into unconsciousness, I sucked in a breath.

“Shit!”

When I lobbed the Daevetch ball I’d collected at the wall opposite me, the strength behind the strike blew a hole in it, surprising the soldiers scurrying by outside.

Behind me, Oswin said, “Perhaps you should rest, sir. You’ve been at this for a while.”

With my hands on my hips, I hung my head.

“How long?” I asked.

I’d lost track of time in my flight from the pain waiting for me.

“Almost an entire day,” Oswin said.

Glancing back at him, I said, “Really?”

It hadn’t felt that long. I’d have guessed only a few hours had come and gone.

But when he nodded, I knew he’d told me the truth and returned my view to a collapsed man.

“Remind me, Oswin,” I said. “How many Kiraak are waiting for my help?”

“You’ve worked through a good chunk of them already, sir. Several hundred are left but…”

Trailing off, Oswin sighed.

“Forgive me for the presumption, Your Majesty, but you’re only one man. You’re starting to make mistakes. If you keep going at this rate, you’ll hurt one of the people you’re trying to save. You- you need sleep.”

Growling, I crossed my arms. What did Oswin know? I could keep going. So many tasks were waiting for my attention. I couldn’t afford to rest-

The man in front of me groaned himself half-awake, dazedly trying to stand before his legs gave out once more.

Wincing, I said, “Ok. I see your point. Unfortunately, I still have one more thing to take care of before I can sleep.”

There was a beat of silence and then.

“As you say, sir,” Oswin grumbled.

Yeah. He wasn’t happy with me.

In the single day since the battle for this place had ended, the Birthing Grounds had undergone a change. Granted, I’d never seen the place before the fight had begun, but I knew from Little’s report that under Doldimar’s control, its Enforcer had imposed little order on those garrisoned here.

Now, a sense of purpose drove almost everyone I passed. I didn’t know each of these people’s assignments, but I’d guess they were working toward goals similar to those we’d striven for after capturing Da’kul: clearing the caves of enemies, assessing our newly captured supplies, raising defenses, and preparing for a counter-attack.

Besides those basic goals, I’d tasked several platoons of soldiers with guarding the Kiraak that I had yet to visit. None of those formerly hostile monsters had tried to leave the barracks we’d herded them into, but no one wanted to leave so many near deathless, former enemies unguarded.

Then came those robbed of their sense of purpose. I found the occasional person aimlessly ambling through streams of soldiers, forcing the more aware people around them into dodging. I recognized many of those lost souls, although they looked strange without black marks obscuring their features.

Almost as soon as the battle had been over, I’d given the order that those recently reverted humans could have full access to the Birthing Grounds. Once they’d recovered, they were welcome to come and go as they pleased, and if they wanted, they could even leave, venturing into the wild reaches of Doldimar’s domain. The soldiers under my command would still keep a close eye on them, but unless they attacked, I was giving them the freedom they’d been long denied.

The problem was that most of these people didn’t know what to do with it. They’d been wandering in a daze, refusing to speak, and at times, they’d hostilely reject anyone who tried to help them. Given that, my people had learned to leave them be. Their despondency was another issue I’d need to tackle once I could think straight.

As we approached a building I’d been avoiding for hours, Rhyli- no, Ryvolim watched me coming. He was leaning against an out-of-the-way barrack with his posture tight and his arms clenched around his chest.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Let’s wake him up,” I sighed.

Leaving Oswin to guard the door, I followed Ryvolim inside.

After I’d gotten ahold of myself earlier, we’d dumped Kylorian in the comfiest pile of rags that we could find in this place. A much fluffier mattress had been available on the second floor of the house at the center of the Birthing Grounds, but after I’d finished with the Kiraak in that awful place, I hadn’t wanted to spend another moment in it

This barrack’s interior had been left in a near pitch-black, so I drew on Ele to combat the darkness. The rush of peace and order that always followed that energy draw helped with calming down my jumbled thoughts, letting remnants of my sanity creep back like a wounded animal.

In the last day, I’d used so much Daevetch, so much, and the temptation to take another sip of it was dragging at my focus even more intensely than when I’d first descended into this pit. Right now, the Ele trapped in my hands could barely hold that ferocious need at bay.

When shadows fled from my summoned light, it revealed two, slack forms, slumped on the dirt floor. Kylorian’s chest was moving in an even rhythm. His peaceful slumber was undisturbed by his brother’s body, lying beside him.

We’d wrapped Hadrion in spare cloth. Gods, his youthful face, robbed of life, and the jagged gash across his throat had been too much to bear.

I wasn’t sure how much good it would do to wake Kylorian up next to the source of his grief, but I’d left the task of tending to the brothers to Ryvolim. Knowing how experienced he was with this sort of thing, he must have had an excellent reason for placing them together.

Without further delay, Ryvolim sucked a light strand from Kylorian’s form, and after a moment, he stirred. Ryvolim and I gave him time to wake up with our hands resting on our hilts, ready to throw light or gloom at the slightest provocation.

Rising from the ground, Kylorian yawned.

“Hello, you two!” he brightly said. “Have we started the assault? I had the most terrible nightmare last night. We let Hadrion join us and…”

As I’d been listening to Kylorian talk, I’d tried to keep horror off of my face, but I must have failed miserably because the other man quickly broke off, holding stock still.

After a heartbreaking moment, he said, “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

I shook my head, unable to form words. I didn’t know how that could be possible with such a giant lump in my throat. As Kylorian turned to look at the bundle beside him, I could almost hear the groan of straining metal coming from his neck, but when he reached out to touch that cloth, his hand only hovered, trembling. Slumping, he dropped said hand in his lap.

“What will you do with me now?” he asked with a dead voice. “I tried to kill you. You’re fully within your rights to punish me for that. Is that why I’m here, away from prying eyes?”

Gods, what sort of person did he think-?

But no. I couldn’t blame him for thinking that might be possible, even with how well we’d once thought we knew one another.

“You’re here on the off-chance that you make another attempt on my life,” I said, “but if you don’t do that, I’m planning to send you home with Hadrion.”

Sharply glancing at me, Kylorian said, “You’d let me go, even with everything that’s between us now? I know you’re not to blame for my brother’s death. My head is perfectly aware of that, but my heart isn’t listening, and I… don’t know what to do about that. Before this, I would have said you were one of the best men I’d ever met but now…”

Pausing, he shook his head.

“Wouldn’t it be foolish to leave a potential enemy like me alive?”’

If only Kylorian knew how much I’d been thinking about that. Even still, I shrugged.

“I’ll deal with that complication if I must,” I said, “but I don’t think we’ll be enemies, Kylorian. No matter how you end up feeling about me, we once agreed that Auden’s citizens should choose who rules them. If anything could, that will keep things amicable between us. I refuse to believe the Audish people would want a murderer on the throne, and you love them too much to disappoint them.”

Kylorian laughed, but there was an edge as sharp as a knife to it.

“You don’t know the Audish people very well yet, Raimie,” he said, “but at the least, you’re right about me. May I go?”

This felt like a bad idea, something I’d come to regret, but still, I stiffly nodded. When Kylorian reached my side, he stopped, wincing as he rested a hand on my shoulder.

“We should give it time,” he said. “Just… don’t let me see you for a few weeks, yeah? Let me grieve, and we’ll see where we stand then. All right?”

That damn lump was still lodged in my throat, but I forced myself to say.

“Ok.”

With his hand slipping off of me, Kylorian absently stared into space.

“Alouin, I have to go tell Ren that another of her brothers has died,” he said, as if to himself. “That’ll be fun.”

But then, he left me and Ryvolim in the Ele illuminated barrack, and I buried my face in my hands. I hadn’t… hadn’t wanted to think about Ren yet.

“That didn’t go as horribly as I thought it would,” Ryvolim said.

“We’re lucky,” I said through my hands. “Ky has always been generous with me and I…”

No. Couldn’t think about that either. Not yet. But I would soon.

“What about you?” I asked. “How are you handling… everything?”

I vaguely waved while Ryvolim crossed his arms.

“Better than Kylorian, that’s for sure,” he said. “I only failed in my mission to eliminate the Enforcers. I let the woman who killed Hadrion escape my clutches, and Kylorian never had a chance to-”

My friend started coughing, abruptly cutting himself off, and I winced, getting the message loud and clear. This had become a sore spot for him. I wouldn’t pry into it further.

Sighing, Ryvolim said, “Don’t do that, Raimie. I wasn’t trying to push you away. If you need to talk, we-”

“No, thank you,” I rushed to say. “I don’t think that would be wise. I… no, thank you.”

Ryvolim nodded, but that seemed like the only way he could respond to what I’d said. We were just too raw right now.

“If that’s so, I plan to find a private corner where I can release this shape change,” my friend said. “Can you keep out of trouble for one day? I’ll be unavailable until tomorrow evening at the latest, and I don’t want you running off somewhere dangerous without me to help.”

“My plans for the evening involve finding somewhere to crash for the night,” I said. “Hopefully, trouble can find someone else to torment while I’m sleeping.”

That made Ryvolim chuckle, although he cut it off by clearing his throat.

“What about the body?” he asked.

“I thought that was obvious,” I said. “Oswin will see that it’s returned to Tiro with Kylorian. Isn’t that right?”

From outside, Oswin’s voice drifted to us.

“As you say, sir. I’ll see that they receive the swiftest form of transportation we have available.”

“Well, then. I hope you rest well,” Ryvolim said.

He moved forward as if he wanted to give me a comforting gesture, but after pausing for a moment, he shook his head and left, abandoning me with a corpse.

Chapter 31: What's Wrong?

Raimie

 

Should I sit beside Hadrion? Should I let this roiling pot of grief and guilt in my gut boil over? Did I dare shove a lid on top of it, hoping that it would cool on its own?

I didn’t want to speak the words that would unburden my weakness on an empty barrack and the vacant remains found here. Better, I thought, to keep them packed into a kernel-sized box at the bottom of my essence’s pit.

But what if future circumstances discovered the clasp needed to open that box?

Folding to the ground beside Hadrion, I covered my face with my hands, hoping it would make this painful task easier.

“I don’t understand why you did it,” I whispered. “We barely knew one another, only held a few passing conversations and shared two nights of revelry together, but I could sense the potential for a great friendship between us. Why did you have to ruin it?”

I had to take a moment, searching for my voice in the swirling maelstrom it had disappeared into.

“Your decision in that house was incredibly selfish and stupid. Nyl and I had control of the situation, despite how it might have looked,” I said, forcing the words out. “That’s not what you saw, though, is it? To you, the person foretold to destroy your lifelong enemy was about to willingly throw himself on that foe’s mercy. The situation must have seemed like it was your fault, like you’d begun a tragedy that would only end in suffering and death. I’ve been there. I know exactly what that feels like.”

Blinking, I swallowed hard.

“You only did what you thought was needed to fix the problem, and I can understand the reasoning that led to such a desperate conclusion, but did you have to leave me with the burden of explaining your death to Ren?”

I broke off. More words clamored to be unleashed, but indulging in that urge wouldn’t help me any more than what I’d already spoken had. Sighing, I dropped my hands, fixing my eyes on a cloth-wrapped body.

“Goodbye, Hadrion,” I said.

Oswin followed me away from the barrack without a word, thank Alouin. I wasn’t sure what I’d have done if the spymaster had tried to comfort me. It was bad enough that he’d witnessed my moment of weakness. I couldn’t take his pity on top of that.

When we entered the caves, Oswin gently guided me into a secluded cavern.

“Will you please rest now?” he asked.

“Seeing as how my body needs it, yes.”

Unbuckling Silverblade from around my waist, I leaned it against a wall.

“Please make sure nothing disturbs me unless it’s of dire consequence.”

“I will, sir,” Oswin said.

When he drifted out of view, I collapsed into a conveniently placed cot. My whirling thoughts, however, wouldn’t let my brain slide into slumber. I lay motionless, staring at the ceiling, for what seemed like hours before giving up. When I stirred with the intention of returning to my duties, however, Oswin stuck his hand around the corner, tossing something my way.

“From Ryvolim,” he said.

This glass bottle, filled with my friend’s sleeping tincture, was the most beautiful sight I’d beheld all day. Even still, I only downed half of it before settling beneath the sheets once more. I had something to handle in my dreams, after all.

“Raimie. Raimie, please do not hate me. I only did what-”

Having only recently arrived in my nightmare realm, the only place where Nylion and I could talk, I tried to sit up, getting halfway there before running into an obstacle. Sitting on my lap, my other half was pawing at my shirt, in tears, and I… was not equipped to deal with this right now.

I was going to try anyway.

“Hey, hey. I’m not mad at you, Nyl,” I said. “It’s ok. We’re ok.”

As best I could at this awkward angle, I gathered him into a hug, feeling his body slowly relax against mine. Once he seemed calm enough, I cleared my throat.

“Now again, I’m not mad,” I said, “but I would like a little room, please. I just got here, and I’m… very disoriented. Can you let me breathe for a moment?”

“Oh. Of course.”

Nylion backed off, and I scrunched over on myself. Oh, everything hurt here, even if that hurt wasn’t in my body. So much whirling ENERGY was rattling along my nerves, and ignoring it was taking far too much of my focus. What was that? Was it simply our emotions, let free from the bottle and left to jangle between us? Or was there something else going on?

I wasn't here to address that, though. I didn’t know why I was wasting time considering it.

Once I’d caught my breath, I sat back up and winced at the look on Nylion’s face.

“Do I have to remind you of what I said in the real world?” I said. “Hadrion wasn’t your fault. Neither of us were at fault for that. I DO NOT blame you. Ok? I’m just… very sad.”

Hanging his head, Nylion nodded.

“I am too,” he whispered. “He seemed nice, and now, he is not here. And that hurts.”

“Of course it does,” I said, “but I’m here. Ok? So, can we talk about whatever's been bothering you for the last few months?”

Stiffening up, Nylion stared at me for a few heartbeats before getting to his feet. He paced back and forth, glancing at me every so often, but I wouldn’t move. Right now, I only had enough energy to listen, if my other half wanted to tell me about his troubles. I didn’t have anything extra for encouraging him to talk.

After several pacing repeats, Nylion huffed.

“You have been avoiding me,” he said. “Why?”

I had? I’d thought we’d been talking fairly regularly, but if he felt that way…

“I’ve been a little busy with directing a war effort,” I said. “Unfortunately, with so many people begging for my time, I haven’t had much leftover to deal with personal things.”

Stopping short, Nylion glared at me before ducking and jabbing a finger into my chest.

“Do NOT lie to me,” he said. “We are one and the same. I can tell when you are skirting the truth.”

I didn’t know what he was talking…

But then, everything hit me in the face. The battle, the aftermath, what was waiting for me back home.

And I exploded.

“If you know that, then you should also know why I’ve been avoiding you,” I snapped. “Why can’t you simply tell me why you’re angry? Ever since we’ve gotten established in Auden, you’ve been irritable with me. Why?”

“BECAUSE YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN OUR GOAL!” Nylion shouted with his face scant inches away. “Our memories lie in this barren landscape, locked beyond our grasp, and you have done NOTHING to help us access them while I have been stuck here, trying to keep their effects from KILLING us.”

“Wha-? How could something in our head kill us?” I snapped before shaking my head. “No, that doesn’t matter. Look, I learned how to pick a lock, right? That was my job in the real world.”

“Which you learned after months with a spy trailing you everywhere you went!” Nylion said.

He jerked his body upright, and for the first time on this visit, I noticed the abrupt absence of something as vital to me as breathing. It made me wince, almost whining out loud, but I couldn’t do that, couldn’t-

Practically shaking with fury, Nylion said, “Yes, you have learned how to lock pick again. Congratulations. So, with that skill in hand, when were you planning on following through with opening our treasure vault of memories?”

And I was left stunned. I…  REALLY couldn’t deal with this. Not my other half, the one as close to me as my essence, angry with me.

So, I got to my feet and walked away. After the day I’d had, why should I put up with another complication, even if I’d asked for it?

Now normally, I’d do absolutely anything to get my other half to smile. Not only did I owe Nylion, but… I only wanted that part of my essence to be happy. Curiously, however, I turned my back on this interaction, which wasn’t like me. In fact, it was the OPPOSITE of my every inclination, but today, a breaking point had been met. I couldn’t, WOULDN’T do this.

No more conflict. No more disappointed friends or broken promises. I’d abandoned those in the waking world, coming here to rest.
Something spun me around until Nylion’s face, caught between anxiety and fury, was all I could see.

Flicking his eyes back and forth, he said, “What is wrong with you? Are- are you ok, Raimie?”

And gods, all I wanted was to give in. All I wanted was to lean against him and close my eyes.

But I said, “I’m tired, Nyl. You, better than most, know the wounds today has inflicted. Do you think I can endure anything more than that right now?”

I couldn’t tell how Nylion reacted to my confession because our nightmare realm chose that moment to blur. My other half’s worried features briefly turned to fuzzy mush before snapping back into focus.

“Someone is trying to wake us up. That is unfortunate,” Nylion said, as if the words were coming from his mouth with effort. “Just… think about what I said, heart of my heart. Please. And please, have an explanation for your delay the next time you visit. I do not know how much longer I can wait for you to be ready.”

“What are you talking—?”

Chapter 32: Frozen Grief Part One

Kylorian

 

My brother is dead.

For perhaps the millionth time, I cast that thought out into the chaotic swirl of my mind, and once again, it got rejected, tossed out before it had had the chance to settle. As it slipped away from me, I took another pull from the mug of brandy in front of me, gazing into the nothing of the tavern on all sides.

Really, I shouldn’t have stopped for a drink on reaching Sanc. I should be returning to Tiro with all haste, given the cargo in my gifted wagon, but I just… couldn’t keep going. I’d needed to stop, if only for a single drink, before forcing myself onward once more.

I hadn’t shared the news of the Birthing Ground’s capture with these people, no matter that they were the ones who most deserved to know. How could I do that when I couldn’t fully accept the fact for myself? Every time I thought about it, I was transported back to that room, and I watched Hadrion drop to the ground and…

How I wished that anyone besides Raimie had been there with my brother. How I wished it had been Ryvolim, the one who’d let Hadrion’s murderer get away in the first place. How I wished it had been Oswin or the other soldiers outside the house, the ones who’d let her inside.

Instead, it had been Raimie, the one I’d wanted to be a friend. The one I’d wanted to be my friend, someone I’d chosen instead of someone who’d been forced upon me. Someone I actually liked.

Hell, how I’d yearned for him to banish all the tumultuous feelings roiling through me in those first awful moments in that hellish room. How I’d longed for a comforting word or an explanation that could excuse the scene spread between him and me.

Instead, he’d gone cold, straightening into the most indignant, wrothful posture I’d ever seen. He’d poured righteous fury on me as he’d said.

“I am only responsible for protecting one person in this world, and it was not your brother.”

And for the briefest of moments, I’d seen myself in him. The person I’d always longed to be, the one who spoke up when things went wrong and had the courage to defend his unworthy self, and seeing that, I, of course, had attacked him.

Now, I wasn’t sure if we could ever be friends again because now, my brain and heart had irrevocably tied him to the self-hatred that I’d always been full to the brim with. If I was ever to reconcile with him, I’d have to either untangle those two ideas from one another or somehow reduce the poison that ate away at everything I did. Both tasks seemed impossible to me, and that hurt, although it didn’t come close to the pain of my brother is dead.

As if to frustrate me, that thought again broke apart when it hit the bedlam in my mind, and wincing, I finished off the last of my drink. I’d already paid the two silver chit price for what I’d imbibed, which let me rise from my seat and depart without having to address the barkeep again. Thank Alouin.

After climbing into the wagon I’d left outside, I flicked the reins, guiding the horses onto a well-worn road. I hadn’t gone far, still able to see Sanc on the horizon, before the past and present resumed their play alongside one another.

I knew I was keeping the horses on their guided trail, but I was also watching Ren shuffle Hadrion along in front of her with her hands over his eyes. When they reach me, she lifts those hands, and after blinking several times, Hadrion’s eyes go wide.

“Is that… a sword?” he says, pointing at the bundle in my arms.

“Yup,” I say. “All for you.”

Leaning down to his ear, Ren murmurs, “Happy birthday, Had-had.”

He gulps, clasping his hands in front of his mouth with his eyes going glassy, but I can’t blame him for that. Tanwadur and Eliade have been ADAMENT that their youngest child never learn how to fight. Ren and I have always found that contradictory. Tiro is still in Auden, much as we like to pretend it isn’t, and everyone in Auden should know how to use a weapon like this.

I watch my brother as he softly giggles. His eyes are still watery as he drops his hands to reveal a beaming smile.

“It’s about damn time!” he says.

The sun hugged the tops of the trees ahead with the mountain pass that led to Tiro coming into view. I was drowsy-

“Sometimes, I wish I was a girl so I didn’t have to listen to Dury’s lectures.”

Pausing in writing out my next persuasive ‘speech’ in a notebook, I glance up at where Hadrion has slumped against the door he just came through. He looks… tired, in a distinctly unique kind of way, and I feel hairs raising all over my arms.

“What do you mean?” I carefully say.

Shaking his head, Hadrion says, “I mean… Ren never has to listen to how MEAN our dad can get sometimes, you know? I know it’s just his temper popping up but still. I wish… I wish…”

As I watch, he passes a hand over his face, allowing me the briefest of glimpses at the devasted look that he was trying to hide, and I’m on my feet. Quietly approaching him, I take hold of his shoulders, leaning down to his eye level.

“What did he do?” I say.

I refuse to break eye contact with my brother, even as he darts his gaze from side to side, trying to look away from me.

“He… gave one of those lectures he likes to spout off,” he says. “You get them often enough, don’t you?”

For a moment, I simply examine him, trying to determine if he’s hiding anything, but I genuinely cannot tell at the moment. I’m not sure if that’s because he’s gotten good enough at keeping secrets, like me, or if my own emotions are clouding any signs I might be seeing from him.

“So, he didn’t do anything else to you?” I cautiously ask.

When Hadrion frowns with nothing else in the expression, I internally sigh with relief, even as I relax and drop my hands.

“What are you talking about?” he says. “What else would he have done besides yell his head off, as usual?”

Forcing myself to make a face, I say, “I guess that’s bad enough, huh?”

“You’re telling me,” Hadrion says with a snort before pushing off the door. “So, what have you been up to in…?”

Drifting-

Today marks the beginning of my first journey into greater Auden, and I am petrified beyond measure about stepping through the stone doors in front of me. Tanwadur says I’m old enough to start showing my face to the people I’ll someday rule, if all goes according to plan. While I know he’s right, I can’t help my reluctance. I'm hesitant about picking up the pack at my feet, much less taking any steps to go… well. Anywhere, really.

Maybe I should stay here. Considering everything waiting for me, every atrocious story I’ve heard from survivors of Harvests, maybe I should dare to stoke HIS wrath. Maybe I should dare to chance the unspoken punishments that have set me on this hated path.

“Ky!”

Jumping in place, I spin toward that voice, unable to stop myself from cracking a smile on seeing Hadrion running toward me. When he reaches me, he doesn’t hold back. He shoves my shoulder before grabbing me in the most engulfing hug I’ve had in a while.

“Were you planning on leaving without saying goodbye, asshole?” he says into my chest.

I don’t know how to respond to that. Fortunately, I don’t have to speak a single word because almost as soon as Hadrion’s done with his rebuke, he springs his head upright, fixing me with a determined look in his green eyes.

“You go be good, Ky,” he says. “Show Auden how good you are.”

And I suck in a gasp. There’s so much meaning behind that little phrase, more than anyone could ever know, and I struggle to keep back a sniffle while covering up the tears in my eye.

“I will, Had-had.”

And I had been. I… had been…

Asleep-

I become aware of my surroundings halfway through a dream

it had to be a dream, couldn’t be anything else, but my mind wasn’t giving me more than a second to

see myself surrounded by enemies

no, that wasn’t right. Go back. Try again

and see myself surrounded by friends. I love these people, even if I don’t know-did know-don’t know who they are.

One by one, they fall away. One to fever. One to a wound that should have been mine. One to the black vines under his skin and my blade when I learn about how he’s hidden them from me.

The last of them stands with me and promises everything will be ok, but he takes my brother-my brother-MY BROTHER and when he returns, that brother isn’t with him

I knew how this dream was going to end, but I couldn’t reach it yet. Must go through the middle, must start from the beginni-

I’m surrounded by friends who fall to the ground, dead, and I watch them die-again-for the first time with said time slowing down around us, letting me see them breathe their last in agonizingly dripping-by seconds. My brother has gone with the last one alive, but when that friend returns, my brother is nowhere to be seen. 

An Enforcer leerily smiles at me, making my heart jump in my chest, and I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe

woke for a moment to find myself slumped in the cart’s seat with sweat slicked over my

she lifts my brother’s body up by the head so I can see the slit carved in a gaping smile under his chin, the force of her grip tearing it open wider, and I charge her, meaning to take her head, but she’s meaty mash beneath my feet, and Tanwadur-my father-the bastard who raised me is standing nearby with his arms crossed and a smug smile on his lips.

“That was well done, Ky,” he says before those lips twist into something that punches terror through my limbs. “Let me reward you for your good work.”

And I run for once, not frozen solid, not closing my eyes and waiting for it to be later in the day. I run and run and

I was still running, pushing the horses faster, hearing the cart jangling behind me. Alouin, I needed to slow it down before an axle broke or something worse happened. What if the package I was delivering fell out of the back…?

With a manic laugh, I didn’t stop.

Chapter 33: Frozen Grief Part Two

Kylorian

 

I kept going until I reached a dense line of familiar trees. This was what finally stopped me, slowly. Reluctantly.

Climbing to the ground, I unhitched both horses from the cart, slapping one on the rump to get her galloping through the grass. May she find a freedom that we Audish would never have.

For the second horse, I secured her before trudging to the back of the cart. I carefully pulled my burden into my arms, never looking at it, and returned to the horse so I could secure this bundle across her back, behind the saddle. When I climbed in front of it, the creak of the saddle’s leather was loud in the unnatural silence, found even on the edge of the-

Cerrin Forest is always beautiful at this time of day. The midafternoon sun trickles through the leaves of its wide canopy, turning the air beneath it golden, and everything here smells so CLEAN. No smoke from a neighbor’s fire. No stale ale drifting off of someone I pass on the street. Just air and damp wood all around me and the faint tinge of some flower that I can’t see.

How I wish I could stay here forever, living in this quiet corner of the world.

Today, I’m out here for a reason. Hadrion ran off again last night, sneaking away in the dark, and I have to find him before Tanwadur or Eliade find out. Ren’s helping me, starting her search on the other side of Tiro, so hopefully, we can get this done on time.

I understand why the kid keeps doing this. In some ways, I’m even envious of him for having the courage to try it, but for him specifically, running away isn’t helpful or healthy. Hadrion has nothing to fear from us, the people who want to give him a home, but considering how much his previous home threatened his life on a daily basis, it makes sense that he’d want to get away from it as often as possible.

I find him quickly, thank Alouin, but who I find him with? That has me unsheathing my sword, already working through ways to get the kid away from the Kiraak at his side. I have to do that before said monster can hurt my little brother worse than he’s already been harmed.

It comes as a great surprise, then, when Hadrion jumps in front of the Kiraak with his arms spread wide.

“Don’t, Ky!” he says. “They weren’t hurting me, just asking for help. I want to give it to them.”

Help… a Kiraak?

“Hadrion, get out of the way,” I say, barely keeping annoyance out of my voice. “With everything you’ve experienced, you have to know that Kiraak are an abomination-”

“But they’re not!” Hadrion says.

When I narrow my eyes at him, he lowers his arms with his hands curling into fists and- and STOMPS THE GROUND, like a little kid. He IS a little kid, but… still.

“They’re not monsters!” he says. “They are as human as you or me, but unlike us, they must fight against something evil for their whole lives, something they never asked to bear. Plus, this one’s newly turned, Ky! They still have a LOT of time before Corruption makes them mean. Trust me. Like you said, I have experience with this.”

Damn, he’s not going to let this go. There’s too much passion in him, and I… I have to return him to Tiro as quickly as possible.

Lowering my sword, I spread my other arm toward my brother.

“Fine. I’ll leave them alone,” I say, “but you have to come home with me. Right now.”

Hadrion crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at me.

“You have to promise,” he says. “Promise that you won’t hurt this Kiraak and that I can come back to help them if I want to.”

Seriously? He wants to help one of the enemy?

But then, what’s the harm in that? It’s only one Kiraak, and it hasn’t discovered Tiro’s existence. Plus, if I’m lucky, one of my scouts will come across it and kill it for me. That way, I can keep my promise and still do my job.

“I promise,” I say

Before Hadrion can get too excited, I lift a finger.

“But! You have to bring me with you whenever you come out here. Ok? Let me keep an eye on you for my own peace of mind.”

With a beaming grin, Hadrion says, “Ok!”

He turns around to reassure the Kiraak behind him, letting me get my first good look at it. Hadrion was right. The spread of Corruption across this one’s body has barely begun, only peeking out from a couple of infestations across its skin.

And its arm is broken. Presumably, that’s what it needs help with, which is good. It means the Kiraak won’t have a reason to stick around for long.

I keep an eye on it while Hadrion hurries to me, only looking away once we’re far from it, and as soon as I’ve gotten the kid distracted by something else, I go right back to that spot.

When the Kiraak sees me coming, it chuckles under its breath.

“So, you’ll break your promise after all, huh?” it says.

I don’t want to speak to this creature, soon to become an instrument of suffering and death, but unfortunately, Hadrion has made that unenviable task unavoidable for me.

“No, I won’t do that,” I say. “The kid you spoke to? He barely trusts me and my family. I won’t break that trust over something as meaningless as you.”

The Kiraak flinches, looking away, and I take a moment to determine how much of a threat it might be if it attacks. It certainly looks muscular enough, but at the same time, its body is smaller than average. I’m not sure what to do with that information, as it could be either good or bad for me.

“Why are you here?” I eventually ask. “Did Enforcer Teron send you out to find rebels, like he usually does?”

Glancing back toward me, the Kiraak snorts.

“No,” it says. “I hardly expect you to believe me about this, but I’m still unbound. Got away from the transport that was taking me to the Enforcer I was assigned to.”

It’s right. I don’t believe that for a single second, but in the end, I suppose that doesn’t matter. Shrugging, I throw a bundled bag its way.

“Some supplies. They should get you through to tomorrow, at least,” I say. “You can stick around for as long as it takes you to heal up because that’s what I promised my brother, but rest assured. As soon as that period’s over, I expect you to leave this place. Find your refuge somewhere else.”

Nodding, the Kiraak slowly crouches to gather the bag to it.

“I expected as much as soon as you ran across me and Hadrion talking,” it says. “Don’t you worry. I don’t want to be anywhere near people who want me dead.”

Good. That’s settled, then.

I spin on my heel, meaning to head home, before pausing. If I’ll be interacting with this Kiraak while it heals, I should figure out what to call it.

“What’s your name?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.

The Kiraak stops digging through the bag to look up at me with scrunched eyebrows.

“Ivelais,” it slowly says.

Good enough for me. Without another word, I leave it there.

I wondered what Ivelais would think of what had happened. Would they grieve for a dead friend? Would they even care? The last time I’d seen them, the Corruption under their skin had spread, but it hadn’t gone far. They might have enough of their conscience to remember their emotional connections. Maybe I should find them to see how they’d react to the news, if I had time.

Softly laughing, I shook my head. Like that was ever going to happen.

At my side, a flash of cloth resolved into one of Tiro’s scouts, landing from a drop out of a tree.

“Kylorian?” they said.

I didn’t reply, besides nodding. I didn’t have the energy for social interactions, not with the one I’d have to endure in the next hour hovering over my head.

The scout didn’t seem to need more than an acknowledgment, though. Like the shadow they were supposed to be, they quickly vanished into the underbrush around us, and I was returned to thoughts of an unexpected ally and perhaps informing them that my brother is dead.

Again, the hurricane in my mind, still whirling as strong as ever, hurled that thought out into the void of my subconscious.

It had taken me a while, but I’d figured out why this problem in my head wasn’t concerning me as much as it should. I’d experienced it in the past, shortly before Tanwadur had brought me to Tiro, and I’d seen it in-

The new boy is staying in my room until we figure out what to do with him, and I’d be fine with this—ecstatic for the distraction he brings, actually—if it weren’t for how corpse-like he’s been. For the last half mark, I’ve been stuck in my room, trying to get through the book Tanwadur wants me to read, but I keep getting distracted. Instead of doing what I’ve been told, I’ve mostly ended up watching the new kid as he stares through our room’s window at the sky outside.

I don’t know what to do about it. After Tanwadur and I brought him home, Eliade asked me to look after him, and I don’t want to disappoint her. But how am I supposed to look after someone like him? He hasn’t spoken a word since Tanwadur and I found him, barely eats the food we give him, and won’t focus for long enough to do even the simplest of tasks.

He… he reminds me of me. Me when I first got here. Ren wasn’t as bad as this when she first came home but me? From what others have said, I gather that I was as nonresponsive as this kid for almost two months.

What drew me out of that catatonic state?

Snapping the book closed, I throw my legs over the side of my bed.

“Hey, kid! Get your shoes on for me, yeah?” I say. “We’re going for a walk.”

I make sure to plop said shoes beside the kid, and slowly, he looks at them before doing as I asked as mechanically as possible. Soon enough, though, I’m leading him outside and down Tiro’s streets.

After he falls behind a few times, I gently take his hand, making sure he stays with me, and that contact draws a first spark from him. He sharply glances at me before fixing his eyes on where I’m holding him, and that doesn’t change for the entire walk to where Tiro’s scouts meet every day.

Inside, I catch Ren’s eye, where she’s glancing over the scouts’ stored weapons.

“I need you,” I say. “Got a minute?”

She opens her mouth, probably to complain about how busy she is, before spying the kid behind me. That softens her features almost immediately, and she sighs.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

Together, she and I lead the kid through a busy marketplace, across the fields in the city’s center, and down a few abandoned alleys until we reach the entrance to our hidey-hole. Once inside, I flop to the ground, like always, but Ren spins on the kid, spreading her arms.

“Welcome,” she dramatically whispers, “to the best spot in Tiro.”

The kid’s frozen, probably because of Ren’s sudden movement, and sighing, I tug on her leggings.

“Sit down,” I scold. “You need to make some room so our little brother can get comfortable.”

While the kid rapidly blinks at me, Ren spins on me with her hands clasped.

“Dury said it was ok?” she asks.

Rolling my eyes, I gesture for her to sit the hell down, only answering her once she has.

“I don’t give a fuck what Dury wants or thinks, not about this,” I say. “The kid needs a family, and I say it should be us. So there.”

Ren looks skeptical, something I can’t consider, so I turn my attention back to the kid.

“You got a name?” I ask.

The kid flicks his eyes between me and Ren, shuffling between his feet. I force myself not to smile at this improvement.

Leaning over to me, Ren whispers, “Ky… I don’t think he does.”

The sorrow in her voice is only echoed in me, but I choose to grin at the kid instead of showing that.

“Oh, that’s all right,” I say. “You and I can give him a name. What do you think?”

The kid doesn’t reply, looking down at his feet instead, and after an awkward moment, Ren hums.

“How about… Hadrion?” she says. “And the two of us can call him Had-had. You know? Like that old song! ‘Oh…. if I only had, had a brother, we could upset our mother, getting in all sorts of trouble, toogeeeeetheeeer!’”

I snort at her, frankly, horrible singing, watching with no small amount of wonder as the kid’s lips curve into the smallest of grins.

“Hadrion it is!” I say. “Well? You coming in or what?”

Cautiously, the kid shuffles to a spot as far away from me and Ren as he can get. Throughout our time there, he watches the two of us talk, never moving besides the occasional twitch, but I expected that. It’ll take time to win his trust and with it, his voice.

And maybe, once we have it, he’ll speak.

Blinking, I found myself standing in the clearing outside of Tiro’s stone doors with the horse’s reins in my hand. I didn’t remember dismounting, too lost in the past and present mixing together, but it was ok. I was here now. I was… home.

Chapter 34: Frozen Grief Part Three

Kylorian

 

Leading the horse closer to the center of the clearing, I dropped her reins and thanked Alouin that she stayed still as I untied the bundle from behind her saddle. Once it was in my arms, I went to where sunlight was caressing the ground nearby and gently lowered… my brother into the grass.

Hesitantly, I pulled at the rope holding a blanket in place around him, flicking its corner to the side once it was free. I wrinkled my nose at the stink that hit me in the face from this, but I didn’t smell it in full, merely reaching for the other corner with a shaking hand. Once I’d pulled it free, I made myself look upon what had once been a dear friend and a loved sibling. In many ways, the hopeful light of mine and Ren’s world.

When something SLAMS into me from the side, I purposefully topple, like I was taught, and pull a knife free on standing. I can’t see much of what or who attacked me. The moonlight’s weak behind the clouds in the sky, but I’ll find the enemy and I’ll stick a knife in its…

For a moment, I can only blink at the scene I left behind. Tanwadur’s running to me with a bow in hand, cursing all the while. Our campfire, several dozen paces away, is still merrily crackling with our dinner simmering over it.

And there’s a small, filthy thing on the ground between us, snarling up at me with THE palest of faces.

Without a thought, I drop my knife, holding a hand up for Tanwadur to stay where he is. Fortunately, he follows my suggestion, for once, leaving me free to gradually approach this… this child.

This child who’s draped in several oversized pieces of the shitty armor that the Conscripted wear. Specifically, the Conscripted stationed in the Birthing Grounds.

It makes sense. Tanwadur and I passed that horrible place earlier today, taking the long way around it to avoid its patrols.

It also doesn’t make sense. Children don’t make it to the Birthing Grounds. They just… don’t, and I’ll leave that there, refusing to think about what happens to them instead. That plus this kid isn’t large or well-fed enough to have attacked, let alone defeated, the Conscripted soldiers needed to put this outfit together. His cheeks are so gaunt that in the low light, I can see shadows where they should be!

This could be an opportunity.

This is a child, one who needs help.

Both thoughts tug at my attention as I lower myself toward the ground, trying to catch the kid’s eyes.

“Hey, are you hungry?” I say. “That’s why you jumped me, right? You wanted our food.”

This changes nothing in the child. He continues to hiss at me, and I flick my eyes to Tanwadur.

When he scowls at me, I whisper, “Please. He’s just a kid. We’re supposed to be helping here, right?”

Sighing, Tanwadur throws his head back, shaking it, but he moves toward our fire, soon bringing me a portion of our food. While he stays standing at my back, I extend it to the child, and this makes him go still. Expression drops off of his face until he’s cocking his head to the side, almost as if he doesn’t know what to do with an offer of kindness, but within a few seconds, he crawls forward to snatch the food out of my hand. While he gnaws at it, I nod.

“You’re welcome at our campfire,” I say, “but you don’t have to join us, if you don’t want to. It’s up to you.”

I don’t know if he’s heard me, but still, I stand and slowly make a circle around the kid until I’m beside the fire. Given his state, it’s best to let the kid have a choice, when it comes to this. He should decide whether he wants to accept someone’s help or not, not have it thrust upon him.

I’m not sure what I’ll do if he refuses to join us. Letting a little kid like him wander around alone in these dangerous lands—especially if he’s from the Birthing grounds, as I suspect—is a terrible idea.

Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about that for long. The kid slowly pads into view, stopping at the edge of our fire’s light, before dropping to the ground. He doesn’t move, merely staring into the flames, and I let him be. Tanwadur and I can figure out what to do with him in the morning.

The CRACK of Tiro’s stone doors drew me back to the here and now, to the green tinge on my brother’s-

Lunging to the side, I pressed a hand over my mouth, barely keeping myself from throwing up, and all the while, I heard someone coming closer.

“Ky? You’re back early. What’s going-?”

Oh, no. It was Eliade.

I jerked upright in time to see my mother stop, see her eyes widen, see her fling her hands over her mouth and release a piercing scream into them. Hearing its muffled sound, I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to disappear.

Running feet preceded the thump of a body to the ground, and my mother raggedly breathed for a split second before:

“Hadrion? My baby boy? What-? Hadrion?”

She kept babbling to herself, and I made myself open my eyes and move toward my mother, wrapping my arms above where she was reaching for the body in front of us. After letting her cry for a while, I gently pulled her toward me.

“Where’s Dury?” I asked.

I needed to know this, needed to know why he hadn’t come out here with Eliade. He’d always, ever done that with his wife in the past, so why hadn’t he done it now? Why hadn’t I heard him screaming at me yet?

Shaking in my hold, Eliade said, “He’s… your father… he should be at Da’kul by now. He went there, looking for…”

She trailed off with tears filling her eyes, pulling back toward the body, and I dragged her into an embrace instead, holding her head to my shoulder. As she cried, I thanked my lucky stars that Tanwadur wasn’t here now, much as it would make a reunion with him so much harder in the future. I used consideration of that eventuality to keep myself stuck in my mind’s depths, far enough from the world that I wouldn’t feel my mother’s tears on my skin or hear her hitching sobs.

I wasn’t so deep that I missed Ren calling for us. Within a blink and a thought, I was on my feet, racing to her. I met her halfway to us, grabbing her shoulders to keep her in place.

Scowling at me, she tried to keep going, probably wanting to comfort our mother, but I didn’t let her take a single step more.

“Ky! Let me-” she said before clicking her tongue. “What’s going on?”

Oh, fuck. I hadn’t… What did I…? How did I…?

Tightening my grip on Ren, I sighed, lowering my head so I didn’t have to see her face.

“There was an accident at the Birthing Grounds,” I numbly said. “During the battle, Raimie was watching over Hadrion, but something… he couldn’t…”

I couldn’t make myself tell the whole story. Steeling myself, I glanced up at Ren, holding her gaze.

“Ren. Our brother is dead.”

But this time, those words stuck. Perhaps it was because I’d spoken them out loud. Perhaps it was because I’d seen his empty face. Perhaps it was because of the sobs at my back and the look of shock in front of me, but those words wormed through every defense I’d unconsciously raised over the last week, settling into my heart.

And I wanted to scream. I wanted to KILL SOMETHING. I wanted to do anything but let my tears out because if I started crying, I didn’t know if I’d stop.

“You… you’re lying.”

Blinking, I focused on Ren, and on seeing the look on her face, I released her. How was I supposed to keep touching her when she was looking at me like that?

“I’m… not,” I said. “I wish I was, Ren, but I’m-”

Whirling in place, she flat-out sprinted away from me, passing into Tiro within a minute. I was left staring because… what the hell? What was I supposed to do now?

“Mom…” I breathed.

I had to go after her, but I had to stay, but I had to go after her!

“She- needs- you- Ky,” Eliade gasped between her sobs.

And I was freed. I ran into the city, intent on finding Ren and helping her however I could.

Chapter 35: Unexpected Guests

Raimie

As Nylion fuzzed over, I started asking, What are you talking—"

“—about?” I sleepily finished.

I blinked at the vague outline of Oswin, hovering over me, until he retreated.

“I’m sorry to wake you, sir,” he said, “but I’ve stumbled into one of those times of dire consequence that you mentioned.”

Removing his hand from my shoulder, the spy gave me space, and after swinging my legs over the bedside, I stretched.

“What’s the problem?” I said. “And how long have I slept?”

“It’s morning, sir. You got a full night’s rest for once, which is the good news I suppose.”

Falling silent, Oswin grimaced with one eye closing, which was not… good.

“What’s the bad news?” I asked.

“An unknown army gathered on the ridge overnight,” Oswin said, “and my scouts aren’t sure if it’s friendly.”

Any sleep that had been clinging to me vanished, and I was on my feet before I’d registered it.

“You’re only waking me up now?” I said, reaching for Silverblade.

“Marcuset didn’t think it was wise to wake you up until we were sure we needed you. As a commander, he can handle a hostile army by himself,” Oswin said. “When said army sends an envoy to initiate negotiations, though, is when he wakes up his king.”

Pausing in my rush out the door, I said, “Negotiations?”

Holding my arms out to either side, I looked down at my uniform’s stiff, blood-soaked state. Given that, I could only imagine how the rest of me looked.

“Gods damnit. I’m a mess,” I whispered. “I can’t meet an envoy like this.”

“It’s a good thing I brought you a change of clothes, then,” Oswin said.

He gestured to a uniform, lying on my cot.

“You can sponge off the dirt and grime at a wash basin, but I agree that we can’t do much about your face. Those elephant ears!”

Glaring at Oswin, I growled, “Get out of here so I can change.”

With an elaborate bow and a teasing grin, Oswin backed into the hallway.

No matter how much my mind was urging me to rush into my next task, I made myself take a moment to absorb everything that had happened in the last ten minutes. Learning of yet another threat on my life and to my people wasn’t as much of a stressor as it should have been. It seemed I’d gotten used to that, which was… a little sad, honestly.

But fighting with Nylion? That had never happened before, not that I could remember at least. I wasn’t even sure if we were fighting, but that conversation we’d had in our shared dream space… gods. I didn’t know how to feel about it.

I hadn’t thought I’d been avoiding my other half. In fact, I was sure I hadn’t been, but… he was right that I’d been ignoring his feelings about certain things. Over the winter, I’d change the subject every time he’d reminded me about our memories or the fact that I needed to learn a new skill. I hadn’t been doing it intentionally! But still, it had happened. 

Why had I been avoiding these things?

In the end, I guessed the ‘why’ didn’t matter. That problem had an easy fix, something I could handle the next time I slept.

So, I focused on the threat that had once more cropped up in the real world for now.

Taking off my ruined uniform brought me more relief than I’d expected. Too busy and exhausted to change since the battle, I’d almost forgotten whose blood had been stiffening this fabric. At that reminder, the dried, brown remnants leaving a crust on my skin left me trembling, and ignoring the host of scars across my chest and stomach, revealed by my lack of clothing, I hurried to swipe water over my body, even if its icy chill drew a hiss from me. With my teeth chattering, I donned yet another emblem-less uniform, reveling in its warmth, before retrieving Silverblade.

“How do I look?” I asked after calling Oswin inside.

He squinted at me for a moment.

“Decent,” he eventually pronounced. “May I?”

When he vaguely waved at my face, I nodded, and he used a knife to scrape stubble off of my face. He also trimmed my hair, although he left the strands hanging around my temple alone. Maybe he was hoping they’d disguise my ears or something. 

Once he was done, Oswin stepped back, making an appreciative sound.

“That good, huh?” I said.

“You actually look… reputable, sir,” Oswin said.

I might have taken that as a compliment if he hadn’t sounded so surprised while saying it.

“Thanks…” I said, rolling my eyes. “Let’s see what this envoy wants, yes?”

We headed out.

Oswin must have chosen the cave I’d slept in because of how close it was to the stairs I’d created yesterday. If, by some harrowing happenstance, we needed to flee the Birthing Grounds, there would be an escape route easily within reach. I could appreciate his logic, no matter how typical it might be for a bodyguard like him.

When we reached them, I stopped at the base of the floating stairs.

With my hands on my hips and my head tilted back, I said, “I can’t believe this is still here.”

Hovering on the edge of my vision, Dim rolled their eyes.

“Did you think I was lying to you last week?” they said. “This will stick around, so long as you want it to. My whole wouldn’t give up a means of access to the physical plane so easily.”

Of course it wouldn’t.

I know that, I said, but it’s one thing to hear how long Daevetch can last here and another to see it in action.

Clicking their tongue, Dim said, “I’m getting real sick of people assuming I’m lying to them, just because my whole is associated with Deception.”

Snorting, I started up the stairs.

I’d have had the same doubts, even if Bright had been the one to tell me about this, I said.

“What?” Bright snapped, which only makes Dim snicker. “What possible reason could you have to trust them as much as you do me?”

Well… I said, while I’m grateful for everything you two have done for me, including all the times you’ve saved my life, and I actually LIKE you, which is strange to think about, that doesn’t change the fact that you both still want something from me. Something I don’t know about. I know that’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you for it, but sometimes, this unknown makes it hard to trust you. 

I shrugged, even as I winced inside. Telling other people, especially the ones I liked, about difficult things always felt horrible, like I’d somehow violated all that was good in our relationship. Still, this was how I felt when around Bright and Dim. Keeping that to myself wouldn’t help things between us.

While the two of them considered what I’d said, I forced myself to find another distraction from the growing distance between me and the ground. Normally, heights thrilled me, making me feel free in a way nothing else could, but right now, I was trusting my control of Daevetch to keep from plummeting to a bone-shattering death. I’d much rather have something sturdy, like tree branches or a roof, under my feet.

So, when Dim started up with a horrid mixture of coughing and gagging to my left, I stopped short, certain that my Daevetch source was about to disappear on me. Behind me, Oswin tripped over his feet, which had me wincing, but I forgot about that on catching sight of my splinters.

Both Bright and Dim were floating in the air beside the stairs, but Dim had hunched over on themselves with their hands on their knees. With an almost fond expression on their face, Bright was patting their back.

“I could have told you that would happen,” they said.

And what, exactly, happened? I said.

Had Dim somehow been hurt? If they had, how did I keep them away from whatever had hurt them in the future?

Waving at me, the Daevetch splinter hoarsely said, “Please, stop worrying. I was only trying to tell you about… that thing you mentioned before, but once again, I failed. Can’t believe I’m about to say this, but fuck my whole for restraining me like this. Damn, that was idiotic. I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different.” 

Oh. 

Sighing, I shook my head before continuing up the stairs.

I’ve told you before. I don’t want you to hurt yourselves when trying to share this, I said. I never said that I don’t trust you AT ALL, only that I don’t FULLY trust you, and that’s not a bad place to be with me. I only trust one person fully, and that trust only exists because I consciously chose to trust him in that way.

“Rhylix,” Dim darkly muttered.

Yes, Rhylix, I said, rolling my eyes. Dim, you should get used to him being around. I’ll be working with him for A WHILE, and I’m hoping he’ll stick around after Doldimar’s defeated this time.

Making a face, Dim mouthed several curses while Bright somehow managed to laugh and sob at the same time.

“It would be nice if the backlash didn’t take him this time,” they said.

Backlash? What’s-? 

“Sir, I’d suggest finishing your conversation with your invisible splinters at another time,” Oswin said. “I doubt your soldiers would take kindly to their king, absently waving at thin air.”

Oh gods, he was right. Much as I refused to be ashamed for my primeancy, it was still best to limit any displays of what other people might consider unstable behavior.

“Thanks for the warning,” I said.

With a half-smile, Oswin said, “It was no problem. Maybe focus on our surroundings, though?”

Right. I should do that.

As I climbed off the last step and onto the cliff’s edge, I bit back a gasp at the sheer volume of people spread before me. The unknown army had set up their camp a good distance away from my soldiers, but still, their number was vast, enough to swallow everyone who was under my command.

Numbers by themselves wouldn’t have concerned me too much—skill counted in a fight, after all—but the orderly manner that the other army had arrayed their camp in spoke to deeply ingrained discipline, something that only some of my soldiers could claim. Granted, that was still a significant portion of them, but nothing compared to what I was seeing here.

Gods. How had I not heard about an army like this approaching Auden yet? I’d thought that was what my Hand was for. Given, their spymaster and I had been in unusual circumstances for the last week… but still.

Spotting Marcuset, I trotted to join him and the stranger at his side.

“Please, forgive my delay,” I said as I approached. “I came as soon as I could.”

Facing me, the stranger in our midst smiled.

“You must be King Raimie. Please. There’s no need for any apologies, Your Majesty,” he said. “From what your commander has told me, I gather that your recent days have been extraordinarily busy. I can understand why you might need time to present yourself. If we can get started now, however, I’d introduce myself. Merlaro, at your service.”

As the man bowed, I couldn’t stop one corner of my mouth from rising in an awkward smile.

“Raimie, like you guessed, and I’m grateful for your patience,” I said. “How can I help you, Merlaro?”

“I’m not worthy to speak of my monarch’s desires,” Merlaro said, “save that my liege would like to speak with you. Privately.”

Shifting beside me, Marcuset said under his breath, “That’s a bad idea, Your Majesty. If I were to guess, this leader of theirs most likely wants you out of the picture so that the unease of your loss can wreak havoc in our ranks.”

That seemed like an obvious possibility. Still.

“I’d love to meet your leader,” I said, ignoring when Marcuset groaned. “I fear, however, that you’ll have a hard time separating me from Oswin. He’s tasked with keeping me safe.”

Inclining his head, Merlaro said, “I doubt my liege would mind one bodyguard’s presence.”

How… reasonable of them.

“Then, where am I to meet… him?” I asked.

It was a bit presumptuous to assume this envoy’s leader was a man, I knew, but if I had to take a stab at their gender, our world’s polite mode of address insisted on me choosing male pronouns.

…Maybe that was something I could change someday, assuming I ever got a chance at doing something like that, of course.

With a crooked smile, Merlaro said, “My liege requests that the two of you first meet in our camp, but you wouldn’t stay there for long. It’s simply a precaution. We’ve heard a few worrying stories about you, Your Majesty.”

They had? What sort of stories about me could worry someone else? Had I done something worthy of a reaction like that?

“What about the danger to our king?” Marcuset snapped.

Merlaro turned his smile, now bland, on the commander.

“I assure you that King Raimie has nothing to fear from my liege,” he said.

Ugh. I still hated those two words combined but… whatever. Focusing now.

Given the conversation we were having, I knew Merlaro had said only what he must, and it wasn’t like I had a choice about how I could respond to those words. Gods, Marcuset was not helping me make this go smoothly.

Glaring at him, I said, “I’m more than happy to accommodate your leader. Please, take me to him.”

“As you say.”

Merlaro turned to make the return hike into a conglomeration of foreign tents, but before I could follow him, Marcuset caught my arm.

“This is a bad idea,” he whispered. “We don’t know who these people are or what they want. For all we know, this army could be associated with Doldimar.”

Had- had Marcuset seriously grabbed me, like I was some sort of child?

With a tight grin, I said, “Let me go.”

The commander must have heard something in my tone because he near instantly snatched his hand to his chest.

Once he had, I continued, “I’m well aware that this may be a trap, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to antagonize anyone in this army, especially when they have the numbers to crush us. I’ll do what their leader wants until they show signs of hostility, if they show such signs at all, and on the off chance that happens, I’m pretty sure I can get out. Maybe. In the meantime, get our people ready for an attack, just in case.”

Marcuset bit his lip, but after a pause, he reluctantly saluted.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said.

I barely restrained an eye roll before jogging to catch up with Merlaro.

As soon as Oswin and I broke through the first line of the foreign army’s tents, my sense of unease ballooned, which had me resting one hand on my weapon’s hilt. The hostility directed our way seemed as strong as a tidal wave, and against it, I had a hard time striding behind Merlaro with what I could only hope was a monarch’s proper carriage.

I only noticed these people’s uniforms once we were past the point of no return. Sprinkled among those wearing armor, several of these soldiers sported clothing quite similar to what I was wearing, but rather than short-sleeve tunics, these people had jackets with waistlines that fell below their hips. Still. In style, detail, and essence, their attire looked the same.

“Oswin…” I said under my breath, “are those what I think they are?”

“Quite possibly, sir.”

A loud pop followed the spy’s grudging admission, and on hearing it, the world snapped into crisp clarity for me with my grip on my sword’s hilt tightening. With those bursts of noise growing louder as we came closer, Merlaro brought us to the edge of the forest, and when we rounded a last tent, I was hit with a wave of déjà vu.

A chestnut-haired woman was aiming her pistol at a tree, squeezing the trigger as we came into view. Sprays of wood showered off of that tree’s helpless trunk, making the woman smirk, and on seeing us, she handed off the weapon, gliding our way.

“Your Majesty,” she said, nodding to me.

“Queen Kaedesa,” I said with a short bow.

“Looks like you were right, sir,” Oswin said under his breath. “She did come across the sea for us.”

Oh, thanks ever so much for that. I was trying very hard not to think about that fact right now, barely able to remember that this would be a meeting between highly ranked people instead.

Or it was supposed to be, at least. We’d see if Kaedesa conformed to that expectation.

Chapter 36: A Proposition

Raimie

 

Turning on Oswin, Queen Kaedesa grinned at him with an almost feral edge to it.

“Middle! How good to see you!” she said. “You had me worried when you disappeared from my court without warning.”

Bowing, Oswin said, “Your Majesty.”

And nothing more.

“Still reticent as ever, I see,” Kaedesa said with a chuckle before turning to me, “but from what I understand, Raimie, the tale you told me so many months ago wasn’t merely a delusion.”

“Or at least, enough people believe his story to form an army around him.”

A pinch-lipped man joined the group, never ceasing his glare at me, and while I could tell she tried to restrain it, Kaedesa still grimaced at his words.

“Ah, yes. This is Pierdriel, my… advisor,” she said. “He’s here as an observer for Ada’ir’s nobility.”

Oh, shit. They’d forced a watcher on her? When I’d fled from Daira last year, how much trouble had I left Kaedesa in?

“…It’s nice to meet you,” I stiffly said.

That was all I could allow myself when it came to Pierdriel. As soon as I could, I focused my attention back on Kaedesa.

“If I may, why are you here?” I asked. “You’re a long way from home, Queen of Ada’ir.”

Before Kaedesa could answer me, Pierdriel snapped, “Do you mean to ask why, besides the fact that you stole so many resources from us?”

Ah, yes. I’d hoped we could go for a little longer before getting into that subject, but I supposed that had been a pipe dream.

“Forgive me, Pier, but have I suddenly lost the ability to speak for myself?” Kaedesa said in an acid tone. “Because otherwise, I believe an advisor’s role is to keep quiet until I ask for advice.”

“Your Majesty, I wasn’t trying to-” Pierdriel started.

“But you did, didn’t you?” Kaedesa snapped. “As I’ve said, you can kindly keep your mouth shut, or do you know what might be better? If these two monarchs could have a nice, private chat together.”

Folding her hands in front of her, she smiled at me.

“What do you think, Raimie?” she said. “Will you join me on a stroll through the woods?”

I forced myself not to smile back. Gods, I’d forgotten how absolutely fiery and assured of herself this woman could be. My stomach might be churning when considering why Kaedesa was probably here, but I had to admit that it was nice to see her again. I opened my mouth to reply, but again, the advisor interrupted us.

“Your Majesty, please! You can’t! Think of the scandal that might come from you spending time alone with... him," he said. "And what if the rumors are true? What if he is a primeancer?”

Ok. That was enough.

“Oh, the rumors are true,” I mildly said, “but I have no intention of hurting your queen, whether with primeancy or anything else. Besides, if I’m remembering correctly, I had several private meetings with Her Majesty while I was a guest in your fine capital, and from what I saw during them, she is more than capable of defending herself.”

That left Pierdriel sputtering, which gave me no small amount of pleasure.

“You see, Pier? Nothing to fear,” Kaedesa said. “Shall we?”

She held out her elbow for me, but I paused before taking it.

“Oswin, can you please stay here with the honored advisor?” I said. “You know I can take care of myself for the time it will take to finish one short conversation.”

Stiff as a statue, Oswin said, “That’s true, sir, but to ease a dutiful bodyguard’s mind, would the two of you please stay mostly within eyesight? I know you may need complete privacy at times, but please, let me keep my eyes on you for the most part. I hope that’s not too much to ask.”

It really wasn’t.

As Kaedesa dipped her head in acceptance before once more retrieving her pistol, I squeezed Oswin’s arm.

“Everything will be fine,” I whispered.

Taking a deep breath, Oswin nodded.

“Be careful, sir.”

Smirking, I said, “I always am.”

“Well, that’s a blatant lie,” Oswin said.

But he laughed.

“Coming?” Kaedesa called from the edge of the forest.

“Of course, Your Majesty!” I said.

And we headed into the foliage around us. As I trailed behind Kaedesa, I ran through a host of reasons for what I’d done in Daira. I could only imagine the position I’d put this woman in when I’d fled from her. She’d encouraged that flight, of course, but on top of escaping something that others might have considered an iron-clad imprisonment, I’d taken what had amounted to one-fifth of her armed forces with me as well. What had that theft done to her standing with both rival kingdoms and the constantly rebellious nobles in her own realm?

When her army’s camp disappeared behind a mass of twigs and leaves, Kaedesa rounded on me, and I braced for whatever punishment she was sure to rain down on me, the one I so thoroughly deserved. So, when she wrapped me in a hug, surprise froze me solid, almost concealing a surge of bubbling panic and nausea.

“Thank Alouin you’re all right,” Kaedesa said.

But then, she withdrew, and while she kept her hands on my arms, her retreat took my panic with it.

“I heard you began the ocean crossing with a bearing that would take you right beside the Accession Tear,” Kaedesa said. “I was afraid its storms might have ripped my ships to flotsam.”

I was… so confused.

Cocking my head, I said, “You’re not angry with me? I thought for sure that after what I did-”

“Oh, I assumed that taking so many of my soldiers with you was Commander Marcuset’s idea, not yours. He’s always been a conniving bastard,” Kaedesa said while wrinkling her nose. “You should make sure he’s nowhere near me for a while, by the way. If I see him, I might tear him limb from limb.”

What a terrifying image.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.

What was happening? Kaedesa should be attacking me or screaming or throwing punches or… I didn’t know, pouring some form of caustic acid, whether in the form of words or not, on me. She shouldn’t be… this. Whatever this was.

“Why aren’t you angry?” I said. “After what my people did to weaken Ada’ir, you should have ordered your army to attack mine the moment we stumbled across one another.”

Laughing, Kaedesa said, “I’m sure my court would love it if I decided to fight you, but just this once, I’m not going to sate their lust for battle. Bloodthirsty bastards, all of them.”

Shaking her head, she pursed her lips.

“Honestly, you did me a favor. Without any recent rebellions to trim the fat, Ada’ir’s standing army had been getting bloated and unwieldy. The mass defection of the Audish loyalists within it both lowered its size to a more reasonable one and showed me exactly which of my soldiers serve only me.”

Ok. That explained why she seemed almost happy to see me, which was…strange. I could let myself believe I was safe. Even as I started to relax, though, I felt compelled to voice my other worries, no matter that doing so wouldn’t help me or my people.

“That may be the case, but Ada’ir surely invested time and coin into the soldiers and ships I took with me,” I said. “How can I repay that debt?”

With an indulgent smile, Kaedesa said, “I’ll get to that soon. We have two other matters to address before then. Two gifts, of a sort. The first of those: I should return something that I stole from you.”

Unhooking something hidden within her voluminous skirt’s folds, she offered a sword to me, and taking one look at it, I started backing away.

“Oh, no,” I said, lifting a hand. “You can keep that thing.”

Which had Bright and Dim popping into the center of my view.

“Are you mad?” Bright shouted.

At the same time, Dim growled, “You idiot!”

And all the while, Kaedesa asked, “Why would I do that?”

Pressing a hand to my temple, I squeezed my eyes closed.

“Give… me a moment, please,” I managed to get out.

Turning on the splinters, I said, Why do you two start talking at the most inconvenient times?

“Because sometimes, you do incredibly stupid things,” Dim snapped, “and we have to stop that.”

You think it’s stupid for me to refuse Shadowsteal? I said. It’s caused so much trouble in my life, and if that’s not enough, I can never predict what will happen when I touch the damn thing. Besides, I already have a perfectly good sword.

I patted Silverblade, hanging at my side.

“That may be so,” Bright said, “but is that sword tied to your foretelling? Can it eliminate a-?”

“What are you doing?” Kaedesa asked.

On turning to her, I winced to see her still offering me Shadowsteal.

“I’m having a silent conversation. Please, don’t worry about it,” I said before sighing. “Thank you for returning my family’s property, truly, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to touch that sword. Do you remember what happened the last time I did that?”

“You handily defeated my palace guard in a few heartbeats, moving faster than I’d have thought a human could go,” Kaedesa said.

Pausing, she looked down at the sword in her hands.

“Perhaps you’re right,” she said.

When she hid the sword in her skirt again, Bright and Dim groaned, and despite how annoying I might find it now, it would be best to make sure those two were at least a little appeased.

“Maybe another member of my family could take it for now. Someone it won’t react to,” I said. “You should give it to my grandfather. I’m sure its return would overjoy him.”

Shrugging, Kaedesa said, “It’s your sword. I’ll do whatever you want with it.”

“Then, that’s settled,” I said before turning my focus to Bright and Dim.

Happy?

“No,” Bright grumbled.

“But giving it to Eledis is better than leaving it with the forgetful one,” Dim added.

They faded into the background, and I mentally rolled my eyes at them. So dramatic at times.

“And the second… gift?” I hesitantly asked.

I wasn’t comfortable with how long we were taking to address my concerns.

With a grin, Kaedesa held out a folded sheet of paper.

“A letter from a friend,” she said.

On taking it, I briefly scanned the message within, wanting to take a closer look once Kaedesa and I had gone our separate ways. I was glad for that caution on reaching the signature at the end.

Shooting my head up, I said, “Dath?”

How did she know my left-behind friend?

Fortunately, Kaedesa seemed to know what I was really asking.

“He’s been an excellent addition to my palace guard. Came highly recommended by one of my new contacts in Sev,” she said. “Once it’s less... barbaric here, I mean to bring him with me when I visit you in Auden.”

This gift took my breath away, if only for a moment. Dath was safe and employed, able to live a comfortable life in Ada’ir. I’d been wondering if he’d find the means to do so, but the position he’d gained was so much better than any of my meager hopes for him.

And Kaedesa was offering safe and ready transport for him to visit me in Auden. It was yet another thing added to the list of things I owed her for.

Before I could open my mouth to thank her, Kaedesa stepped into my shocked silence.

“With that bit of business concluded, shall we discuss how you’ll pay back your debt to me?” she asked.

It seemed she wanted to move on quickly, then. She’d picked the perfect opportunity to return to this subject, off-balance as I now found myself.

Dreading what might be coming, I said, “If that’s what you want, Your Majesty.”

Which had Kaedesa making a face.

“Stop that!” she said. “From what I hear, you’re a king in your own right, and so, there’s no need for deference between us. Call me by my name.”

Fuck, how had I forgotten about that part of my etiquette lessons? Not that I particularly wanted to follow this social rule.

“As you like… Kaedesa,” I made myself say. “What can I, with my meager resources, give you in exchange for the crimes I’ve committed against Ada’ir?”

With a wicked smile, Kaedesa said, “Hmm. What should I ask for? What could possibly make up for my loss? After all, according to you, all that’s yours is mine for the taking.”

Oh, hell. Why had I reminded this woman of everything I’d done to her again?

Given that, I was more than a little relieved when Kaedesa’s evil grin softened.

“Fortunately for you, I’ve already settled on a relatively insignificant price,” she said.

Oh, thank Alouin.

“What is it?” I asked.

Kaedesa took a deep breath before meeting my eyes.

“I want a position at your side, King of Auden, making an alliance between our nations. To that end, I propose that you make me your queen,” Kaedesa said. “It’s simple, Raimie. If you want to repay Ada’ir, you’ll marry me.”

Rapidly blinking, I choked on a laugh with the noise of it so loud that an animal, hidden in the brush, scampered away from us. She wanted what from me?

“I’m sorry. I- I must have misheard you,” I coughed. “Are you asking to be my wife?”

Cocking her head, Kaedesa said, “Is that such an unusual request between monarchs? Marriage alliances are commonplace among the world’s kingdoms, are they not?”

Backing away, I lifted my hands in protest.

“I wouldn’t know!” I squeaked. “I wasn’t exactly trained for this job. It fell into my lap. You don’t remember how amusing you found my lack of court etiquette while I was your prisoner?”

Kaedesa hummed with a fond smile.

“I’d forgotten about that, but it certainly sounds like something I’d enjoy,” she said. “I assure you, however, that such arrangements are mundane in the world of kings and queens.

“Would marrying me be so distasteful? I’ve already helped you by capturing a port city along this land’s coastline. I could give it to you as part of a wedding dowry, if you require such a thing. I can also finance your war effort, and once you’ve cast off Doldimar’s tyranny, my experience in statecraft could be invaluable while you’re establishing your kingdom. I know I don’t bring much to the table physically, what with being a widow and all, but-”

“What? Why would I care about-? No, that’s not the issue,” I said, still flustered all to hell. “You’re beautiful Kaedesa. Anyone would be lucky to have you: looks, experience, and all. It’s just that…”

How was I supposed to tell a powerful queen that all I could think about right now was Ren and how this proposition might distress her? Why was that the only thing I could think about right now?

“I understand that you’ll need time to think it over,” Kaedesa said. “I don’t expect an answer right away, and while you make up your mind, my people will stay in Auden to help you.”

Why would she…?

“Won’t your soldiers be upset about working with 'traitors'?” I said.

“Yet another reason to accept my offer,” Kaedesa said with a grin. “If we’re to be wed, I can claim that the troops and supplies you ‘stole’ were sent with my blessing, to help my future husband with his endeavor.”

Good gods, why was she doing this? I didn’t need more logical reasons for marrying Kaedesa. If I thought about it, I knew doing that would be beneficial for my big family of soldiers, just as I knew it was probably the right step but… but Ren. Why did I also know that dropping this problem in her lap would be an issue? Gods, especially after her brother had died.

As a conjured image of Hadrion’s slack face came into view, it walloped me, right in the gut, and I couldn’t be here anymore. I needed to get away.

Tightly, I said, “I’ll carefully consider your proposal. For now, though, may we return to your camp? Your people might be getting anxious, and we haven’t exactly kept our promise to Oswin.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Kaedesa said with a laugh. “Even if we’re out of eyesight, he’s more than capable of protecting those he’s sworn to. You should bless Marcuset for making that acquisition for you.”

Even if it hadn’t been Marcuset who…?

No. Gods. I needed to go.

“I’m sure that’s true,” I said. “Still. If there’s nothing else we should address at the moment, may we return?”

With a defeated look in place, Kaedesa said, “Of course.”

I barely noticed our return to her tent. After collecting Oswin, I practically sprinted away from the queen’s camp, neglecting any polite farewells I should have made.

As we approached our camp, Oswin said, “Went that badly, did it?”

Startled, I glanced at him, wondering what he was talking about. I was still seeing Hadrion’s face in my mind’s eye, a distraction I couldn’t afford right now. I thought I’d addressed him and his… death last night, but it looked like that wasn’t the case. Instead, it had already caused me a potential issue, given how abruptly I’d left a potential enemy’s camp and… 

What had Oswin been asking about?

Right. The marriage proposal. Fuck.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.

I couldn’t talk about it. If I even thought about doing so, all I saw was an imagining of Ren’s face after hearing the news about her brother, and… and… gods, I just couldn’t.

Once we were back with my people, I ignored Marcuset’s call for me, nearly tripping in my haste to get into the Birthing Grounds again.

“How soon before I can return to Tiro?” I asked.

With Hadrion and Kaedesa and potential marriage and- and everything, I needed to see Ren. I needed her help if I was to get anywhere near a calm state again, and she wasn’t here.

“Ah… I believe the only task that requires your specialty is finishing with the Kiraak,” Oswin said. “The others can handle the rest.”

Ignoring his concerned look, I said, “Great. I’ll start where I left off yesterday, then.”

So, once in the Birthing Grounds’ pit, I did just that. I cleansed the Kiraak of Corruption well past when the sun had descended below the horizon. In my haste to be done with this, I abandoned the slow and safe process that I preferred, and because of that, screams disturbed the Birthing Grounds throughout the first half of the night.

When the last of the Kiraak had slumped into unconsciousness, I flung Corruption away from me with disgust, and as it left me, Daevetch burned through my every vein, every muscle, every inch of my skin. Good gods, it hurt!

I wobbled in place for a moment before my stomach lurched, protesting everything I’d done to stress myself over the last day, and when I collapsed, Oswin’s worried face intruded into my rapidly narrowing field of view. His mouth began soundlessly moving before the world went black.

Chapter 37: Restoring Memories

Raimie

“That was stupid,” Nylion said.

With his hands on his hips, he leaned over me, smirking.

“You cleansed, what? Five, six hundred Kiraak? All in the space of twelve hours,” he continued. “Do you know how much Daevetch you handled in that time? Consequences do exist for using that much magic, even if it is of the primal variety.”

Gingerly, I sat up, prodding at my stomach. Thank the gods, it felt normal here. I hated nausea.

As for here, yes. I was in the dream space I shared with Nylion. Was I ready to tell him what I’d figured out while awake?

Taking a deep breath, I nodded.

“If you’re quite done lecturing me, I believe we have a chest to unlock,” I said. “Or am I wrong about that?”

Nylion froze solid.

"Are you sure we should do it now?" he asked. "With everything that has happened in the waking world-"

"I need a distraction from it," I said, not wanting to hear more about... those problems. "So, let's get that chest open, yes?"

For a split second, Nylion hesitated with something almost painful passing over his face. Then, he  jerked back into motion, offering me a hesitant hand.

“Well, that took you long enough,” he said. “Will you… tell me why you were so reluctant before?”

Refusing to meet Nylion’s eyes, I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Honestly? I was afraid,” I said. “I’m happy with the way things are right now, and the memories locked in that chest could change us for the worse. I want to bring justice to whoever ripped us apart as much as you do, but I don’t know if satisfying that urge will be worth the other memories that might come with the names we want.”

Flinching, Nylion said, “That is… understandable.”

Gods, he looked guilty, although I wasn’t sure why that could be. He wasn’t at fault for any of what had happened between us in the last couple of days.

Clearing his throat, Nylion asked, “What made you change your mind, then?”

“You weren’t happy.”

I shrugged.

“I’ve put you through enough already without denying you this. Gods, I can’t even imagine what it was like to be locked alone in our head for nine years. So, yeah. I’ll learn to deal with whatever extra baggage might come.”

When Nylion didn’t immediately respond, I bit my lip. Had my answer upset my other half? Maybe I should retreat from this place, giving Nylion some space, but before I could pop into my dreams, he spoke up.

“Thank you.”

With his fingers tangled in his tunic, he looked like he might start crying, fixing his eyes on the ground.

“I can feel how difficult this decision was for you,” he said. “So, truly. You have my gratitude, heart of my heart.”

Nodding, I decided this place’s non-existent sky had become exceedingly interesting, hoping all the while that the body I portrayed here couldn’t blush.

“So, how are we doing this?” I asked.

Chuckling, Nylion said, “You are the one who conjured a vampire to guard our memories, I think it is only fair that you fight it while I pick the chest’s lock.”

That comment jerked my head down.

“You can pick locks?” I said.

“I brushed off the skill while you were learning it,” Nylion said with a smirk, “but I believe I may be faster with it. Can you distract our fairy tale monster for the thirty seconds I will need with the chest?”

“Depends. Can I…?”

When I tried to draw on Ele or Daevetch, neither responded, which had me cursing.

Snorting, Nylion said, “We are in our head, silly. What makes you think the primal forces would answer your call here?”

I made a face at him.

“There was no harm in trying,” I said, “but in answer to your other question, I can do thirty seconds. Maybe. As you said, though, we’re in our head. If that vampire tears us apart, would it matter?”

“I am confidant that it would still hurt like hell, but… fair point,” Nylion said before gesturing toward our goal. “You go first, and I will follow once you have the monster’s attention.”

With a hesitant smile, I reached out, brushing my fingers against the back of Nylion’s hand, and the same electric jolt that had always come from our touch shot through me.

Shivering, I said, “Wish me luck.”

It was time to go.

When I was halfway to the vampire, I dropped a hand to my hip, cursing when I realized I had no weapons or armor on me. All I had on was my uniform, my preferred outfit nowadays, but its cloth would still part like butter beneath the monster’s talons.

Gods damnit. Was this to be a game of swipe and dodge, then? I HATED that type of combat, but since I couldn’t avoid such a fight, I might as well get it over with.

“Hey, ugly!” I shouted, waving my arms overhead. “Over here!”

The vampire leveled its gaze at me, but besides that, it didn’t move. What…?

Confused, I came to a stop.

“Aren’t you going to fight me?” I asked. “I thought for sure you would.”

“Is that what you want?” the vampire said. “You are the master of this mind, and I am your creation. If you wish for a fight, then that is what I’ll give you.”

Shuddering, I pushed down my unease.

“Does that mean I can unlock the chest behind you without trouble, then?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, that is something I cannot allow,” the vampire said.

I waited for more from it, but when nothing was forthcoming, I hesitantly edged toward the chest.

“Look, I need to open that box, so either stand aside or fight-”

Without warning, the vampire lunged at me, and dodging its talons, I tripped backward. Its next swipe landed me on my back, and I rolled sideways to avoid its claws, plunging for my belly. I scrambled to my feet, but I wasn’t fast enough to avoid the barbs that got raked across my back. Stumbling, I twisted, yelping at the sight of fangs baring down on my neck.

And the monster vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving my heart threatening to leap out of my chest.

“Fucking… vampires…” I gasped.

My cursing trailed away as the rush found in battle wore off, and while it did that, Nylion hurried to me.

“Are you ok?” he frantically asked.

Delicately picking at the edge of my tunic, Nylion peeled it up, sucking in a gasp at the wounds lying underneath, and something instinctual had me yanking free of him. I turned toward my other half, forcing a crooked smile into place at the panicked look on Nylion’s face.

“I’m fine. It’s all good, Nyl!” I said. “Nothing’s real here, remember? Well… except for you. You’re… very real.”

That stopped Nylion from speaking another word more, seemingly driving concern for me from his mind as well. Clearing his throat, he abruptly spun in place before marching to the chest.

“Shall we?” he asked with a thick voice.

Huh. Embarrassment was a nice look at him.

It took a moment of waiting, but when I was able to catch Nylion’s eye, I smirked.

“Let’s.” 

Mama’s fever had taken a turn for the worse, and mine wasn’t much better. I vaguely recalled the carriage ride from Daira to Allanovian and my relief on entering this mountain’s embrace, unchanged despite my many visits in the past.

I also had a few fragmentary memories of my father arguing with hostile Esela and one of their councilwomen at one point. If I concentrated, I could touch on the knowledge that that Councilor was renowned throughout Ada’ir for her control of a type of mind magic. I wasn’t sure why my father would want to speak with her.

Perhaps back then, he’d been begging the Esela for their aid with my fever because a little while ago, Gistrick had summoned me from my sick bed, although he’d never explained what was going on. My Eselan weapons tutor was almost always quiet, but right now, the older man also had a sour look on his face, one that he’d only worn on the worst of occasions before. He and another Zrelnach had been escorting me through Allanovian’s many branching tunnels, all so we could meet my father outside of the Zrelnach’s quarters.

“I need you to come with me, son,” he said.

And I was happy to comply. I loved my father, missed him every time he was gone, so if we’d be spending time together, I didn’t mind the fact that it would be while I was sick. I wanted every second I could get with him.

The further along we moved, though, the more my fever made me stumble, nearly tumbling me into the tunnel’s stone walls. Gistrick and the unknown Zrelnach insisted on helping me at times, pulling me along by the elbows, and I didn’t like this.

“Raimie, this does not feel right,” Nylion said. “They are planning something bad.”

My other half was walking beside us with his face creased, and something unpleasant tickled the back of my mind.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Nylion, however, didn’t get a chance to respond. The grown-ups around me exchanged a glance before Gistrick grabbed me and the other Zrelnach lifted me into the air. In my shock, I didn’t fight this. I only remembered to scream and wiggle and shift once I was off of my feet.

WHAT WAS GOING ON?

After we’d passed through the trial chamber’s doors, I was unceremoniously dumped into the middle of a small, crowded circle.

“Yes, I am sure,” Nylion said, answering my question from earlier.

Concern was radiating from him in waves, flooding down our bond, and after finding my other half in the room, I scrambled out of the sand, falling into a ready stance. I didn’t have any weapons on me, but with my Zrelnach training, I should be able to take a few enemies down. Whatever was happening, I had to protect us, protect Nylion, keep the one I loved safe. Maybe we could escape this place…

On looking around, however, those hopes crumbled to dust.

A ring of people had surrounded us with most of them faces that I’d dreaded seeing. Gistrick and several former sparring partners formed one side of this circle, and on the other half, Eledis, my father, and the magic genius of a councilwoman were watching me.

“What’s going on?” I snapped.

They’d better have an excellent reason for-

“Raimie,” someone wheezed below me.

Glancing down, I choked on seeing mama’s ravaged state. Her face was flushed and gaunt with sweat drenching her clothes, and a crazed gleam was shining in her eyes. Even as Nylion crossed his arms, looking away, I dropped to my knees beside her.

“Mama, what are you doing?” I asked. “You should be in bed.”

She shook her head with difficulty.

“This is more important,” she said. “You see, my love, our family has a problem. A bad one. It’s long past time that we fixed it.”

Sucking in a breath, I tried to blink a sudden glimmer out of my vision.

“I know I’m a disappointment sometimes, mama, and it’s my fault that you’re sick-”

“Hush now.”

Shakily, she reached up to stroke my hair.

“You’re not the issue. I’ve always been proud of you, Raimie. I’ve pushed you as hard as I have because I wanted you to succeed. And you aren’t the reason I’m laid out like this,” she said. “The blame for my illness lies elsewhere, at the feet of the problem we’re here to solve.”

At that, Nylion snapped his head toward her with his eyes going wide, but I wasn’t paying attention to him right now.

“You shouldn’t talk like that,” I said. “Save your energy for fighting the fever.”

Unsteadily clasping my hands, mama half-smiled at me.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for me, my beautiful boy,” she said. “I’m too far gone, but I can use what little of my life is left to help you.”

This couldn’t be happening! I couldn’t lose my mother, not yet, not when I still needed to prove my worth to her.

“What are you talking about?” I said. “Please, save yourself. I don’t need help, mama.”

Her hands tightened around mine, painfully grinding into my bones.

“Ah, but in that you’re wrong, my son,” she said. “You’re broken, Raimie, and today, we’re gathered here to fix you. It’s time for Nylion to go.”

The world screeched to a stop with time skipping a beat. Unable to believe what I’d heard, I looked up at Nylion, saw the white in his eyes, and felt unreasoning terror rushing in a tidal wave across our bond. My other half reached for me, brushing a finger along my lips until it was resting on my cheek.

And the world resumed.

NO! Something inside let loose a gut-wrenching howl of betrayal. I tried to jerk away from mama, to gather my other half to me, but her grip was iron. I couldn’t escape.

Desperately, I tried to explain once more.

“Nyl is me!” I shouted. “You can’t make him go away. If you did, you’d rip away a piece of me-!”

“Raimie, behind you!” Nylion shouted.

Too late. Hands clamped around my temples, and Allanovian’s councilwoman started mumbling under her breath. As panic ate through my mind, my eyes went wide with my breathing rate rapidly escalating. 

They really meant to do it. They’d split me in two. Oh, gods…

Habitually, I reached for Nylion, screaming across our bond.

Nyl, what do I-?

Pain stabbed through my head…

And my other half flickered in and out of view, stopping my heart.

“You CAN’T!” I roared, reaching for Nylion, clinging to my other half like a lifeline.

Agony slammed like a mallet on my brain, and try as I might to fight it, my grip loosened.

No.

Gritting my teeth, I hissed curses between them, refusing to let go. The bond between us, between Nylion and me, me and him, him and me, brightly burned in my mind. The councilwoman circled around it, a portentous wind come to snuff it out, but she didn’t have the power to do it. Not alone. 

And I wouldn’t let her! Our ever-present bond was the one thing I’d fight to the death for. I’d tear that Eselan woman’s hair off of her head, rake her flesh, rip chunks of her from the rest with my teeth. I would shred her to protect Nylion and what I had with him. SHE COULDN’T HAVE IT!

Beneath me, mama drew a shuddering gasp before going still, and a ghost of her presence joined the councilwoman around our bond. Together, they circled the union deep inside that was RaimieandNylion. They advanced on it, and I scrambled for escape, knowing in my bones that I couldn’t resist both of them at once. If I could slip free in the real world, maybe I could save this sacred space in my mind.

Before I could use my liberated hands to break free of the councilwoman’s grasp, however, my head erupted into a volcano of pain with magma flowing down my neck and extremities. Under the force of this, my grip on Nylion faltered.

What had I-? I’d been fighting for… it had been something immensely important.

My other half rapidly quivered in and out of existence with memories of the two of us liquifying beneath the heat in our head, and desperately, Nylion pressed our lips together, clutching at my head on backing off.

“Do not forget me,” he said before flickering out of view.

I wasn’t sure why I was in such a large, underground room or why so many people were staring at me or why mama wasn’t breathing-

A final surge burned through me, and unconsciousness greeted me like a friend. 

It was real, but it wasn’t, but it was, but it wasn’t. It was what I’d always known but with more detail. It was my mother, the one I’d always loved, but also a horror. It was real. How could it be-?

With every sensation deadened in the wake of what I’d relived, I blinked away tears, but beside me, Nylion was snarling. He paced back and forth, reaching for an unseen threat.

“That BITCH!” he growled.

Tiredly, I sat up, rubbing my temples. Why did my head hurt when so many other, past injuries hadn’t transferred to this place?

“Don’t call mama that,” I said. “We can’t know if one of the others manipulated her-”

“YOU SHUT UP!” Nylion roared. “What the FUCK do you know? You know NOTHING, you useless little-”

“It doesn’t matter anyway!” I snapped.

I didn’t know why I was reacting like this, probably because Nylion’s fury was stirring something similar in me, but right now, I was too addled to care.

“Mama’s dead, much like that councilwoman. We can’t do anything to them, so let’s focus on the ones who are still alive.”

Stopping short, Nylion took a few deep breaths before lowering his fists.

“You are right, of course. As you always are.”

The two of us simply stood there for a while, so close and NEEDING to touch, but unable to. Something was coming, a churning storm of memories that was lurking on my mind’s horizon, and because of that, we couldn’t afford distraction of any kind. Not even…

“Did you kiss me back then?” I asked in monotone.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t offended by the idea. Ren and I did that all the time, so why should I care if someone else kissed me too? Right now, I simply didn’t have energy to infuse into my question.

Also. In that memory, I’d literally seen Nylion in the waking world, kind of like I had in Da’kul. That shouldn’t be possible… right? I definitely shouldn’t have felt that mouth lightly pressing on mine, definitely shouldn’t have…

Lifting my fingers, I touched them to my lips while Nylion glanced at me with his arms crossed.

“What if I did?” he grumbled.

“I…”

That was a good question, one that I had no doubt would take me a while to answer.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said.

And I couldn’t afford to focus on it. That storm of memories wouldn’t long wait for me to find somewhere safe before bursting, which meant I needed a place of absolute solitude and quickly. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that until I woke up.

So gingerly, I brushed against the bond between me and my other half, worried that this memory would have damaged it, but after only the briefest of touches, I recoiled.

I remembered what our bond had been like when we were children: a place of comforting warmth, a union of purpose, a melding so complete that for all intents and purposes, we’d been one. A flow of being, unending from one to the other and so vitally energetic that I’d often thought of it as a merrily babbling brook of existence. Now…

Now, it was ash. The riverbed remained, and a dripping trickle haltingly traversed it, but it was a blackened husk of its former self, all cracked earth and parched reeds.

They’d taken something extraordinary and cherished and proceeded to defile it. I couldn’t comprehend… I couldn’t ABIDE it.

“Now what?” I asked.

For a moment, my throat ached from the ice in my voice, and hanging his head, Nylion hugged his elbows, probably considering the question.

“Since the councilwoman is dead, we cannot exact revenge on the one who actually enacted the spell, but Gistrick, Eledis, and our father participated, if nominally,” he said. “How shall we destroy them?”

It was a good question. I could think of many ways that I’d like to make those who’d hurt Nylion PAY, but for now, only one seemed fitting.

“First, we coerce an explanation from them,” I said.

Before I could continue, Nylion jerked toward me.

“What does their explanation matter?” he said. “They are guilty!”

“Think of it as practice for when we’re king, and don’t deny that the prospect of ruling over a kingdom appeals to you,” I said with a smirk. “I’ve felt you yearning for it sometimes.”

Nylion mumbled something unintelligible, which only made me smile wider. Gods. Maybe… maybe we’d be ok after this. Maybe our bond could return to how it had once been. Eventually.

“One of our responsibilities as king will be to listen as guilty people plead their cases, much like what we’ll do with Gistrick and the rest,” I said. “In the future, we can’t mete out punishment on a criminal before we hear all sides of the story. In the same way, we should wait to enact our vengeance. We can’t know how deeply each of the players betrayed us yet.”

Cocking his head, Nylion narrowed his eyes, but I knew when he’d decided to agree with me.

“We will destroy them, though, yes?” he asked.

With my teeth gleaming through my smile, I said, “They’ll receive their just rewards. Don’t worry. I already have some ideas for that.”

Chapter 38: Nothing But Derision

Eledis

Caution is an incredible asset in a monarch’s arsenal, but when situations call for decisive action, it should be tossed to the wind, lest your people perish due to your cowardice.
-Sephicus, Philosopher King of Lyzencroft

The news of Raimie’s victory reached the city scant hours before his arrival. I’d never seen a crowd so enthralled by one man’s return. The throng of them undulated to the beat of their cheers, screaming a chant to honor their returning champion.

Surprisingly, Raimie brushed through the celebrating masses, making a beeline for Tanwadur’s house and subsequently, leaving the crowd disconcerted in his wake. They quickly realized, however, that they didn’t have to stop their revelries because their guest of honor wasn’t there, and so, music and laughter soon drifted from their midst once more.

When Raimie broke free from the crowd, I was sure that he meant to report to me, especially when considering the unexpected news he must be carrying, but the kid bypassed me with only a single, venomous glance. He marched toward the room where his father had been relaxing for the last hour before firmly shutting the door behind him.

That had been… unusual behavior from him, but I knew that soon enough, Raimie would find me, meaning to apologize for seemingly bad behavior. It was what he’d always done. Still, I paced the square outside for a while, but Raimie never emerged from Tanwadur’s house, and when the sun reached its peak in the sky, something reached a breaking point in me.

I needed to know what had happened in the Birthing Grounds. I needed to know if- if…

No. Not yet.

I stormed away from Tanwadur’s house before I gave in to the desire to break down its door. Over the years, I’d learned when to take a step back and breathe before my temper made a truly inconvenient mess, and now was one of those times.

Which wasn’t to say that I didn’t deserve answers from Raimie. Just a couple of weeks ago, a foreign army had landed at Nephiron, conquered the city, and moved on to the Birthing Grounds to do Alouin knew what to the people my family had allied with. Considering that Raimie had returned to Tiro alive, said army must not be hostile, but I still didn’t know anything about their origin or leader.

Their leader… please, say it wasn’t her.

But because of this, curiosity and dread nagged at me, and I was forced to ignore those aberrant emotions while wandering down Tiro’s streets. 

The hidden city’s residents went about their business without a care in the world. In fact, many of them had joined in with the morning’s revelry without a clue as to what had caused it.

I envied them. Their simple lives appealed to me in a way that other things couldn’t.

Not that I’d trade the power and privilege I had for the simplicity they enjoyed. That wasn’t even an option.

By the time the sun was touching the horizon, I found myself at the city’s gate. Alouin, the temptation to activate its mechanisms, opening the doors, and dart outside was incredibly alluring. Tiro was a nice enough city, but it wasn’t home, and I’d stayed here for too long.

I needed a sense of purpose, to feel as if my goal was drawing closer, and spending hour after hour researching for and tweaking the same battle plan multiple times in a row didn’t relieve that need in the slightest.

Ahead of me, a commotion in the gate house spilled out into the street. Two cloth-swaddled individuals were arguing with one another, apparently unaware of how far their voices were carrying.

“I know the family is grieving, but they’ll want to know about this,” one of them snapped.

“I’m not sure about that,” the other one said. “Maybe we could consult with that Raimie kid instead. Both Kylorian and Ren seem to trust him.”

“Maybe they did before the bastard murdered Hadrion.”

The first one to speak hissed with his hands clenched into fists.

“Besides,” he continued after a moment, “this is our city. I won’t let a foreigner make a decision this important for us.”

Having reached the two, I asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Bristling, both men jerked toward me.

“You see?” the first one said, gesturing toward me. “This is what I mean. Another Alouin damned foreigner, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

I raised my hands placatingly.

“I only want to help.”

Because if I did that, maybe I could gain some information that might help me in other areas of my life.

“Fat lot of good you ‘help’ has ever done us,” one of the men snapped. “We don’t need it.”

As much as those words hurt, I’d still love to argue that point, reminding these two of the many accomplishments that my people had achieved for the Audish citizenry in a few months, but I knew better than to argue with someone who’d already displayed fanatical tendencies.

“Look,” I said instead, “why don’t one of you retrieve your illustrious leaders while the other explains your problem to the stupid foreigner? I mean to stick around until I’ve figured out this mystery, and I’m sure you don’t want to explain why I’m hovering when Kylorian, Ren, or Alouin forbid, Tanwadur show up.”

The angrier of the two continued to fume in my general direction, but the other one laid a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s a good idea,” he said, “and I can have him gone before you’re back.”

“Fine!” the angry man shouted.

Turning on his heels, he stormed away, and I watched him go with a slight headshake. People like that were always so hard to reason with.

At my side, the other man said, “Please forgive him, Eledis. He’s actually ecstatic about the help your people have given us, but he’s also disappointed that your family has so quickly reached goals that we’ve been chasing for years.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“You know who I am?”

“It’s hard not to,” the other man said. “I’d say the whole of Auden will know who you are, once they see you.”

Hmm. That could be problematic. How much so, though?

“You don’t… hate me?” I said.

I’d find that exceptionally hard to believe, even if I’d love to hear it anyway.

“I never said I don’t! But I recognize that you’re trying to help us. What I feel about you and your family can be cast aside, given that,” the man said. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you what’s caused such a commotion for us today.”

Following his lead, I climbed the gatehouse’s staircase, and at the top, my guide gestured for me to peek outside. Evening’s rusty glow had transformed the forest beyond the stone doors into a fairytale setting, replete with mournful birds and rustling leaves. The sun had painted the sky with brilliant shades of purple, orange, and red, a final farewell before that celestial object died for the night.

On the other side of Tiro’s wall, three depleted horses were trembling with their flanks heaving. Two of their riders were shifting atop them, jerking their gazes across their surroundings, while the third had tilted her head back to stare at Tiro’s nearly invisible gate with her lip pinched between her teeth. It was like she was trying to open it with the force of her mind, even if she couldn’t know it was there. 

Of course she was.

“They rode up to the gate not long ago and have been waiting there since,” my guide said.

With a dry mouth, I said, “You should let them inside. Don’t wait for your leaders. Let them in now.”

The other man pulled away from me.

“What?” he said. “Why?”

Pointing, I said, “That woman is the queen of Ada’ir. You may not have heard of that kingdom, but across the sea, Ada’ir is the second most militaristically powerful realm in existence. I’m not sure why their queen is in Auden, but I do know that she’s brought her army with her to this place. Now, you can wait to let her in if you want, but I guarantee that if you do, she’ll use her army to force her way into your hidden city as soon as it catches up.” 

The other man held still as he processed what I’d said before wordlessly pulling a lever, which activated pulleys and winches, and as the door cracked open, I raced down the stairs, nearly falling in my haste. I burst out of the gatehouses as three riders nudged their exhausted horses into Tiro.

The first two, probably the queen’s bodyguards, scanned the city with their hands on their sword hilts, but Kaedesa’s eyes were gleaming. She took in everything—the gate disguised as a cliff face, the dusty streets, the lanterns hanging between buildings, and the canopy of lattice and ivy overhead—and laughed.

When she turned that glee on me, I released a quick prayer to Alouin, but no recognition flickered across her face. Instead, it darkened with distrust creeping into her joy, but the change was so small that only one who knew her well should notice it.

With a shallow bow, I said, “Your Majesty.”

Here, I had no need to give her the deference that I’d shown in Ada’ir. Not only was I no longer at her mercy but we could claim equivalent power and status in Auden.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“My name is Eledis,” I say. “You recently held me and my grandson, Raimie, captive.”

After receiving a short nod from one of her guards, Kaedesa said, “Oh, yes! You must forgive me. So many matters of state occupy my time that details like names and faces slip through the cracks sometimes. I hope you’ll forgive me for the imprisonment part as well. I’m sure I had a legitimate reason for it at the time.”

When she glanced at him, there was another nod from the guard, but I was too busy considering what she’d asked of me to pay that much attention.

I could forgive her. I wanted to forgive her, but having Queen Kaedesa in my debt could be useful. It was best to hedge my bets.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Has Raimie not told you about what we discussed?” Kaedesa said. “Given… he has been busy. I suppose he’ll get to it in his own time. As for your answer from me, my business is with him, not you. But!”

As she dismounted her horse, an acute sense of déjà vu swept over me. Without her skirts to hide them, her riding breeches accentuated every curve of her legs and hips as she swung into the dirt, and distracted by her choice of clothing, I missed her unbuckling a scabbarded sword from her belt. When she tossed it to me, I reflexively caught it.

“Raimie wanted you to have that,” Kaedesa said.

Turning to her saddlebags, she rummaged in their depths to retrieve a journal, and after making several marks in it, she returned it to its place.

Meanwhile, I unsheathed the sword, and on seeing it, all was right with the world once more. I spun the blade through the air, flicking its point as I did. Other swords might come close to perfection, but this... this was a flawless balance of power and weight. No other sword felt quite as comfortable as wielding Shadowsteal.

“Thank you for returning it,” I said.

I bowed to the queen, and if I did so more deeply than I’d meant to, I didn’t let myself notice it.

“I’m only doing as your grandson asked,” Kaedesa said. “I offered it to him first, but he refused to take it.”

What?

Snapping my head up to her, I said, “Why would you do that? It’s-”

With a sharp inhale, I bit my lip, hard.

“It’s his sword,” Kaedesa said with a shrug, “and honestly, I’m not comfortable with giving it to you. Something about you is…”

Running her eyes over me, she shuddered before looking away.

“Now, where is your grandson? I need to remind him of the offer that’s on the table.”

Offer? Did Kaedesa mean to help us? That would make for an interesting turn of events.

“I’d assume he’s with his father still, although he might have moved on to consoling Ren. I hear that she’s recently suffered a loss, and she’s a friend,” I said before pausing. “May I ask what offer you’ve proposed?”

With her lips thinning, Kaedesa handed her horse’s reigns to a guard while the other one joined her on the ground.

“A marriage alliance,” she said. “I thought we could combine…”

Her mouth kept moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I’d gone cold. 

Without thinking, I crossed the distance to Kaedesa and grabbed her shoulders, digging my fingernails into them.

“You can’t!” I growled. “I tolerated the marriage to the king of Ada’ir, but this is… it’s wrong.”

Someone dragged me away from her, and I let them, afraid of what I might do if I was left free. I was shoved to my knees with my arms painfully bent against my back.

Kaedesa had wrinkled her nose with something desperately fighting to break free, and for the briefest of moments, clarity resolved on her, leaving two pits of icy green piercing into my essence.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life, Eledis. You lost that right a long time ago,” she said. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you’ve forgotten what I said the last time we spoke, so let me remind you. If you ever loved me, stay out of my business and my life. I can’t have you near me. Do you understand?”

“But…” I breathed. “I-”

“Do you understand?” she interrupted.

I could swear that my chest was about to collapse, so much pressure was sitting on it, but even still, I coughed an affirmative. At that, a veil of confusion lowered, leaving Kaedesa tilting her head at me.

“You said Raimie’s most likely with his father,” she said. “Where can I find that man?”

“Tanwadur’s home,” I wearily said. “In the center of Tiro.”

“Thank you,” Kaedesa said.

But then, she was skipping down a street, swiveling her head to take in the sights, and I watched her go with nausea coiling in my stomach.

A lone, abandoned guard shuffled to a stop beside me.

“It’s been a long ride,” he said. “I need to find a place where I can stable our horses, but after I have, might I join you for a drink? I’m sure you know the finest taverns in this city.”

“What makes you think I want a drink?” I dully asked.

Chuckling, the guard said, “Every person I know of would need to get plastered after a lecture like that, especially when it comes from her. So. Will you wait for me?”

I nodded, but after the guard had disappeared, I considered leaving here regardless, returning to my makeshift office. Plenty of problems slipped through the cracks of Raimie’s daily efforts, eventually crossing my desk. Perhaps one of them could pull me free of this dazed state.

But my feet wouldn’t move as I commanded, and when the guard returned, I found that the other man had been right. I did need a drink.

Chapter 39: False Life

Raimie

“Somebody help me restrain him!”

With Oswin’s voice roaring through the black of my dreams, I grudgingly moved toward it.

“I’ll hold you all responsible if he hurts himself during the next fit!”

When I opened my eyes, Oswin’s face filled my view. It was turned to the side, presumably toward whoever he’d been yelling at, and judging from his position, he must be the one who was keeping me pinned.

“Let me up, Oswin,” I rasped.

Damn. I must have been fiercely screaming if my throat was this raw.

Oswin sprang off of me, and I slowly sat up, rubbing at the places on my arms where Daevetch tendrils continued to pulse. I let those remnants spill away, hissing at the clawing sensation that this produced.

“Are you all right, Raimie?” Oswin whispered from where he was kneeling.

Damn, he looked so relieved and small. How badly had I scared him?

“Fine,” I croaked. “I didn’t know using primal energy came with a limit.”

Nervously chuckling, Oswin said, “Rough way to find out.”

I grunted in response. When I tentatively reached for Ele, it leapt to my call without the side effects I’d been experiencing from Daevetch. Something to be grateful for, I supposed.

“Help me up,” I said.

Scrambling to his feet, Oswin pulled me to mine, and thanking him, I stretched in place, loosening my muscles up as much as I could. A storm in my mind was raging, which meant I needed to leave. Immediately.

With his voice raised an octave, Oswin asked, “What are you doing, sir?”

“Preparing for my trip to Tiro,” I tiredly said.

Oswin took a step back.

“But… sir! Is that wise after what happened? And... do you mean to go alone?”

“I am fine, Oswin, and I’m leaving by myself,” I said. “Are you planning on helping me or not?”

With a hugely released breath, Oswin fixed his eyes on the ground.

“I never could stop you when you put your mind to something,” he said before shaking his head. “What do you need from me?”

“The army should prepare to march home. You should move out as soon as possible, but leave enough people and supplies at the Birthing Grounds to hold it. We can’t be sure if or when Doldimar will try to recapture this place,” I said. “Make sure those who stay are equipped to incorporate the newly turned humans into our rank and file. Recruitment will only be for those who want it, mind you, but we should bolster our numbers whenever we can.”

I paused in my stretching.

“While we’re at it, we might as well rename this place. The Birthing Grounds? Ugh. Who came up with that stupid name?”

Despite how tightly he was holding himself, Oswin chuckled at that, and it was almost enough to have me smiling again.

“Also, if Kaedesa asks after me, tell her I’m considering her offer,” I said.

“Her offer, sir?”

Should I share the queen’s proposal with him? Why wouldn’t I, though?

Making a face, I said, “She wants to marry me.”

Snorting, Oswin devolved into outright laughter when he realized I was serious.

“Oh, that’s priceless,” he gasped. “Good luck dealing with her and Ren, sir.”

Rolling my eyes, I swatted his shoulder.

“I’ll be off, then,” I said over his guffaws. “I expect you’ll be quick with following me.”

“Of course, sir,” Oswin gasped.

Striding for the door, I drew Ele to my legs and feet, pausing before crossing the threshold.

“When you get the chance, I suppose you should tell Ryvolim where I’ve gone as well,” I said. “He seemed anxious about staying near me, for some reason.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Oswin bowed, but by the time he’d risen to his full height, I was gone.

Wind ruffled my hair as I dashed through the forest. The storm had broken, leaving a relentless flood of once-abandoned memories to scour my mind, and facts that for a lifetime, I’d wholeheartedly believed gradually shattered under the force of the truth’s revelation.

All of my memories from before my ninth birthday—the ones about the forest, the homestead, and Fissid—glimmered and puffed into smoke. Climbing trees in the forest was replaced by racing across Daira’s rooftops. Happy dinners with mama on the homestead, laughing while my father cleaned dishes, were displaced by tense meals in our manor house, worrying about whether the head of our household would survive his current mission for the queen. Learning to trade for grain in Fissid was smothered by watching Eledis negotiate with yet another rebellion’s leader.

Once my past’s underlying base had shifted back into its proper place, detailed recollections rose in a barrage, and I couldn’t stop them from flowing forth.

My earliest memory is of Nylion. Mama is teaching us our letters, writing out a sentence before having us copy it, but she only ever talks to me with her instruction, ignoring Nylion. With each snub, my other half gets more upset, and I decide to speak up before his anger bleeds over onto me.

Tugging on mama’s sleeve, I say, “Nyl makes pretty letters too.”

Perking up from where he’s been lying, Nylion beams at me, rubbing his cheek against my leg. My other half is always desperate for praise. He never gets the credit for anything good we do. Only I get that.

“Your imaginary friend?” mama says. “I’m sure he does, my beautiful boy. Why don’t you show me?”

“Would you like a turn?” I ask Nylion.

Rising to his elbows, my other half nods, and I give him permission to take over. I watch through our eyes as Nylion precisely copies mama’s example. Compared to my wiggly scrawl, my other half’s version looks like an exact replica by the time it’s done.

“See, mama?” Nylion chirps. “I write pretty letters too.”

We grin, wanting to hear her praise, but with her hand flying to clasp her mouth, she chokes on a gasp. We don’t know if the retching noises she’s making are compliments or not. Crawling toward her, we reach for her cheek.

“Mama-?”

“What are you?” she whispers with tears glistening in her eyes.

Why is she asking that? Shouldn’t she know?

“We are NylRaimie,” we say.

With a sob, she flinches away from us before smacking us so hard that we fall to the floor. When our head cracks against tile, we black out.

The time when bumps and bruises began.

I’m four, and my education has already begun. While mama watches me from her corner, I give the wrong answer to my history tutor’s question, and as it passes through our lips, Nylion winces. When I see the disappointed look on mama’s face, I flush, but my shame is forgotten when the tutor advances on me with a red face.

I’m gone for several hours, and when awareness returns, mama’s soothing the welts across my knuckles and back while Nylion cries in a corner.

The beginning of my martial training.

“I don’t want to! I don’t want to!” I shout as I race over the garden’s grass.

Behind me, I know a group of palace guards is following me, as I know what will happen if I’m caught. When I reach a tree, I jump up it in one go, huddling on a branch once I’m far above where anyone can reach me.

As they approach the tree, the palace guard stops, looking up at me with their hands on their hips and disgruntled expressions in place.

“Raimie, you have to come down now,” one of them says. “Your father wants you in a weapons yard. Now. A spymaster’s training always starts after their fifth birthday. You know that.”

But I don’t want to learn how to fight. I don’t LIKE fighting. Because look at Nylion, huddling in the crook of a branch and its trunk! He’s shaking with fear, and that feeling is making my world warp.

The soldiers below me turn into faceless people, monsters come to hurt me and him, and I can’t get away.

Still.

“No!” I shout. “You can’t get me up here, and I’m not coming down. So… so… YOU GO AWAY!”

For a while, I think I’ve won. Then, someone comes to the tree with a ladder.

A bubble of light and laughter, interspersing the darkness of my first nine years.

Auntie Kaedesa has thrown an extravagant party for the advent of my seventh year. Everyone’s here: mama, Eledis, Auntie, Lysinthir, Oswin, Silivren, even Uncle Marcuset. With protocols relaxed and my guard lowered, remembering to call my uncle by something other than Emir has been more difficult than I thought it would be, but I’ve managed it, to my quiet pride.

Even my father has shown his face, released from his duties as spymaster for his son’s birthday. It’s one of those rare days where mama is happy, where my tutors are banished, and where Nylion doesn’t take control. I go to bed that night without a single hidden bruise.

The realization that I’m not quite normal.

“You’re mastering the blade at a surprisingly quick rate, young Raimie,” Bryruned says.

After a lengthy sparring session, I’ve backed my weapons tutor into a corner, and with a grin, Bryruned concedes the fight. It’s a nice feeling, only supplemented by Nylion’s whooping cheers, and I smile.

“We thank you,” I say before lowering my blade.

After Bryruned sheathes his own weapon, we collapse with our muscles trembling. Today demanded an extensive training session, considering I’ll be participating in my first mission for the Hand tonight. After its successful completion, my weapons training will move away from the formal fighting styles that I’ve been learning over the last two years. Now that I can duel and spar with the best of nobles, the time has come for me to learn how to use crude weapons and uncivilized styles, things that will keep me alive while I serve in the Hand.

“WE thank you?” Bryruned asks, lifting an eyebrow as he joins me.

Humming, I rock from side to side, bumping my shoulder into Nylion’s, and at each of these, my other half’s smile widens.

“You gave us praise,” I say. “Why shouldn’t we thank you? We’ve trained with you for years, and in that time, you’ve never given us a complement. After what happened last month, we weren’t sure if you could forgive us.”

“Raimie, everyone knows you didn’t mean to hurt Heritren,” Bryruned says. “Let go of that guilt, boy. He wouldn’t want it for you.”

Ha. This remorse can’t be soothed with words alone. Reaching over Nylion for a water bladder, I hastily raise it to suppress a rush of shame, and while I drink from it, Bryruned watches me with a frown.

“You said we again there, Raimie,” he says.

Why is that man so focused on which words we use?

“We are supposed to refer to ourselves as ‘I’, remember?” Nylion says with an eye roll.

That’s right. The childhood lessons that mama has given us for as long as I can remember faded in the rush of battle. 

I’ve never understood her insistence on using the singular pronoun. ‘I’ seems like such a useless word. When is anyone alone enough to need it? For that matter, what is ‘alone’? The idea of being solitary makes me sick to my stomach, one of the rare things I can’t hold at arm’s length. I pity any poor bastard who’s caught in such a life, spent apart from his other half.

Mama insists that I must pretend like I’m alone, though, that I can only use ‘I’, and frankly, I’m sick of that sham. Why must Nylion hide in the shadows? It’s not fair, and I CAN’T STAND it.

With fire rising up my throat, I say, “WE, Bryruned. WE would like to know if WE can go home. Nyl and I have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

The weapons master recoils from me.

“Fucking hell…” he says under his breath.

And the fire in me goes out, leaving mirth jumping between me and Nylion.

“Oo!” I say. “Is this another curse? I like it. Fucking hell, fucking…”

Repeating it to myself, I commit it to memory, never seeing the weapons master reaching his feet.

“GET OUT!” Bryruned roars.

With his hackles raised, he advances on me, and I’ve seen the look on Bryruned’s face before. It’s one that always comes with pain, and that knowledge makes my choice simple. I flee.

The epitome of my youthful mistakes.

I’m six, and I’ve learned a lot in the year since my martial education began. Easily riposting Heritren’s swing, I use the light to dance around the sword master, giggling the whole way. Heritren rounds on me, pressing the attack until my back is to the wall. The older man smirks, but it’s one that I return.

I bind the light in my feet to the ceiling’s, leaving my opponent standing beneath me. Well out of his sword’s range, I beckon for the sword master’s next attack.

“Careful, Raimie,” Nylion says. “He is smart, remember?”

As if to emphasize my other half’s point, Heritren reaches for his belt, tossing a brace of throwing knives at me. I have no hope of dodging them all, and the floor is at least ten feet below me, which wouldn’t be a fun drop to make. Either way, pain’s coming for me.

In a panic, I release a wave of dusk to halt the knives, but that's done, leaving steel clattering to stone, I forget to dismiss it.

A dark wave speeds toward Heritren, and although he’s fast enough to sidestep out of mortal danger, the shadows tear through his arm, removing it at the shoulder.

Together, Nylion and I scream alongside Heritren’s grunt, and at the sight of so much blood gushing from my tutor, I lose my grip on the light that’s holding me to the ceiling. When I wake up, hours later, I have a concussion, a dislocated shoulder, and the burden of what I did to handle.

This memory integrated with such a wrench that I tripped. Failing to recover from this, I tumbled for quite a while before coming to a stop on my back. Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes, although that wasn’t entirely caused by the fall.

“Is it over?” I groaned.

“One more, heart of my heart,” Nylion whispered. “At least, for now.”

Chapter 40: The Truth of the Well

Raimie

 

Daira’s streets race beneath my feet as I flee from my pursuer. Beyond, Nylion urges me to move faster, to sprint on and on and on.

The sea wall prevents my escape. Frantically, I search for somewhere to hide, an obstacle to slip through, or something to climb.

When my pursuer’s furious cries reach my ears, I grimace. I tricked mama into thinking that I took my medicine this morning because that stuff is awful. I don’t like it, and Nylion HATES it, disappearing for hours afterward. When my other half returns from these vanishings, he’s… changed. Skipping the medicine for one day was a secret relief, but mama found out, and she wasn’t happy. Why is my tiny deceit getting this big of a reaction?

The sound of her pounding feet gets louder, and I bolt to the left.

“Up here, Raimie!” Nylion calls.

Perched atop an isolated pile of crates along the sea wall’s edge, he furiously waves his arms above his head with such desperate panic in him.

“She is a terrible climber.”

That’s truth if I’ve ever heard it. Many have been the hours that we’ve listened to her frustrated shouting while on rooftops. Maybe we can once more wait, out of reach, until her temper cools down.

Leaping for the lowest box, I pull myself halfway onto it, but a hand grabs my dangling leg, and the added weight knocks me off-balance. When my fingers lose tension, the hold on my ankle lasts long enough for my chin to hit the sea wall, making my teeth gnash through my lip, before I’m released. Stars accompany me on my tumble into the sea.

Before I can think to breathe, water closes over my head. My arm uselessly drifts, and when I try to swim, pain nearly makes me faint. Honestly, though, I’m lucky that only my arm was hurt. I could just as easily have been splattered on the rocks at the base of the wall.

Blinking stars away, I see a murky, underwater world with a spike of terror, and flailing my legs, I manage to surface.

The towering sea wall—safety—is much further away than it should be, and atop it, a face is staring at me from the dozens of people nearby.

“Mama! I can’t-” I cry.

Water claims me for a third time, and when I fight free of it, I cough and splutter, sobbing.

“Mama, help!”

I lose her among the ships crowding the harbor’s piers. The ocean’s current is dragging me toward this, and animal panic has me thrashing my legs in a vain attempt to keep water from dashing me on those pilings.

“Raimie!” mama shouts. “Use the light, and grab my hand!” 

Kneeling on the pier, she’s stretched dangerously far over the ocean, reaching for me. Gods, I thought she’d left me to drown.

Grasping at the light, I shoot it into the ocean, desperate to reach her, but I’ve never used it while swimming before. I don’t account for water’s drag against my body once I’ve burst free of its surface. What I’ve expelled doesn’t gain me nearly enough height, but even still, I reach for rescue.

The tips of our fingers touch, and at that contact, I clench mine, but my momentum has pulled me further than I expected. The counterweight above me tilts before I smash into wood.

When I break free of darkness, I’m muddled for a split-second before agony rips through me, and I scream.

“Do not let her go!” Nylion shouts above me. “I did not save her worthless life for you to end it.”

I struggle to get clear of the haze in my mind, but when it fades, I find Nylion floating across from me with both of us clinging to something buoyant. I’m not sure what it is, but that doesn’t much matter.

My mouth and throat are dry, so when I try to speak, only a croak emerges, which has Nylion’s face pinching. Reaching around me, he cups the back of my neck, leaning forward to form a cave between us. Our place of safety, always pulled forth when the world becomes too much.

“It is ok,” Nylion says. “Take it slowly.”

So, I do, clearing my throat until my voice is freed.

“What happened?” I ask.

Turning away, Nylion rests the side of his head on my forehead.

“Mother offered up the first act of love that she has ever given m… us, and as is typical for her, it backfired. She fell, hit her head, and flopped on top of us right as I took over. Almost dragged us into the depths with her, that-”

With my other half’s voice strangled, he’s left swallowing several times before he can speak again.

“I had the good sense to snatch a batch of passing driftwood before the tide swept us out to sea, and here we are.”

Leaning back, Nylion waves a hand over the horizon. As I follow the sweep of his hand, nothing but ocean greets me, but our peril falls out of my awareness when I see what’s hanging from my arm.

Mama.

As if to remind me that it exists, pain blasts through me, turning my vision white, and desperately, I shift my burden onto our tiny raft. She only sinks, though, helpless to stay aloft while unconscious.

“What do we-?” I gasp.

“It will be dark soon,” Nylion says. “Use the light. Perhaps luck will shine on us, sending a ship our way.”

My other half always has the best suggestions. Gulping down more light than I ever have before, I hold it in my body and pray to Alouin that it will be enough.

I keep mama above water with my broken arm, clinging to driftwood. To Nylion. The clumsy curses I mutter help drive pain away, letting me stay conscious. I should thank Bryruned for teaching them to me, if I see the weapons master again. If he lets me and Nylion near him again.

“Help!” I shout, taking a break from cursing. “Mama, please wake up.”

Over the quiet slosh of water, my whisper loudly carries.

As time passes, the sky turns orange and purple. Once the stars have emerged, though, cursing can’t hold pain at bay anymore, and I lazily float in the water, holding to consciousness for the sole purpose of maintaining my grip.

“Mama, why were you chasing us?” I ask. “Is it really that important for me to take your medicine? Even when it makes Nyl go away?”

“She hates me, heart of my heart,” Nylion says with his voice floating through the haze. “I am the source of her shame.”

Mama says nothing, and I swallow the lump in my throat. As something obstructs my view of the stars above, voices shout in the dark, but I can’t summon the energy to call for help. I’m forced to rely on the light that’s blazing from my body, willfully ignoring how little it’s helped me so far. Instead, I hum a lullaby, indulging in the illusion that I’m putting mama to bed for once.

Her weight is lifted off of my arm, and it screams at that release of pressure. Mumbling my own protests, I slap at the water, searching for her.

From behind, something gets wrapped around my stomach. I twist, flailing at what’s holding me, but even still, it lifts me out of the ocean and into the air until I’m pulled over a ship’s railing, and when I’m released, I flop to its deck.

“Raimie!” 

A rough hand caresses my face, and I grab it.

“Mama?” I ask.

When my eyes clear, my father’s worried face crystalizes for me.

“She’s fine. Waking up now,” he says. “What happened?”

“My fault,” I mumble. “Misjudged propulsion. Clung too hard, and mama fell.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” mama snaps with a cough. “It was the OTHER.”

“Oh, NOW she wakes up,” Nylion says while my father frantically says.

“Samantha! You should be resting.”

“No, Aramar. We need to address this.”

Mama coughs again.

“Contact the witch in Allanovian. This other in him needs to be erased.”

I give up on consciousness, but before I drift away, I catch a sudden spillover of terror from Nylion as he angrily grumbles to himself.

Four days later, my mother and I fall ill. We travel to Allanovian, and both she and Nylion are stolen from me in in that awful place.

Someone had replaced my heart with a hollow, throbbing wound. I’d forgotten how to breathe, how to speak, how to think.

“Raimie?” two figures that I should know asked.

“…why?” I managed to rasp.

“Why, what?” the dark one of the two asked.

Recoiling, I said, “How… could…?”

Striding between those familiar figures, Nylion crouched in front of me. As he took my hands, his horribly beaten and bruised face was creased with concern.

“I am sorry,” was all he said.

“You… knew…”

“Everything except who cursed us,” Nylion said. “I knew our scheming bitch of a mother was involved, but as for the others… I did not know how deep the betrayal went. Eledis, Gistrick, your father… and that was your Uncle’s flagship at the end. We should assume that Marcuset was at least privy to the decision as well.”

Pulling my hands free, I clutched at my head, struggling to force two versions of my past into some sense of order. How was I supposed to reconcile the two lives I’d led? One of happiness. One of truth. Which was real? Or were they both…? No.

My life in Daira explained so many inconsistencies that I’d never thought to question. If tutors had been working with me from the time that I was a toddler, it was no wonder I’d breezed through my lessons with Ferin and Rhylix. I’d already studied what Ferin had meant to teach me and learned the skills that Rhylix had imparted.

As for how quickly I’d mastered my friend’s lessons, my ability to replicate a skill after observing it only once would certainly help with gaining knowledge, but it couldn’t replace muscle memory, something that only repetitive practice could develop. I’d had an abundance of that when training with weapons masters, though.

The tutors also explained my oscillation between total ignorance of foreign relations to a somewhat skilled diplomat. Mediation had been drilled into me since birth.

But my happy childhood in the forest… it had all been a lie?

“Yes. Every part of it until we turned nine,” Nylion said. “At least you get to keep that half.”

Small consolation.

“Are you quite well, Raimie?” someone asked. “Your fall didn’t look that bad.”

As I let my hands slip off of my head, my ability to speak logically lurched into working order.

Without looking up, I asked, “How long have you two been with me? I know that I accessed Ele and Daevetch before finding Shadowsteal.”

Only silence answered me for a time, but I was content to stay in this quiet. It was a direct contrast to my current turmoil, and besides that, I didn’t think I could move right now. Curious whether this was true, I asked for my legs to straighten, and they twitched instead.

Great. When would this wear off?

In answer to my question, Bright said, “Since you were born.”

“Can you imagine?” Dim said with a nervous laugh. “You caused so much trouble as a toddler primeancer, running circles around your parents.”

And the blow of this knowledge knocked me back into partial reticence.

“Why didn’t you tell me… when you came back?” I dragged forth. “You hinted at it… constantly but said nothing after… Shadowsteal.”

“Would you have believed us?” Bright asked.

“And Eselan magic like what you suffered is unpredictable,” Dim added. “If we’d told you, our revelation might have broken the spell, or it might have stomped down harder on you instead.”

I nodded, satisfied, if not pleased, with their answer. On attempting to move my legs again, they did more than twitch, so I tried to stand, a little unnerved when Nylion, a very visible Nylion, steadied me. Even if it did nothing to actually stop my wobble, the gesture was… appreciated. 

Seeing him while awake would take some getting used to. And at one point, it had been our natural state.

When I pulled Ele through my source, it quelled the burgeoning of something dark and violent with its peace, and I released a breath that I could swear I’d held since the barrage of memories had stopped.

“What will you do?” asked one of the three unseen but very real beings behind me.

I didn’t stop to check which of them it had been.

“My family has much to answer for,” I said. “I’m going to have a chat with them.”

Chapter 41: Why Would You Do This to Me?

Raimie

 

The five days after the return of my memories followed in an unchanging sequence. Every morning, Nylion was there, opening his eyes at the same time as me and giving me a small smile on coming fully awake, and somehow, our hands had found a way to curl around one another over the course of the night.

But also, every morning, a restless, inner fire greeted me, a blaze that twitched me down my path. As I ran, Ele barely restrained a veneer of red over my vision, and that white light followed my race down the road like a dog would with a bone, driving my travel ever faster until a journey that should have taken a week would only take days. 

In the late afternoon, I leapt into the forest’s canopy, hiding among the leaves from the Kiraak patrolling below.

Out of everything, though, the evenings were the hardest part of my days. Because I refused to call on it once the sun had gone down, Ele couldn’t hold that restive fire at bay, and so, it burned through my resolve instead. Long were the hours where I fought for sleep rather than indulging in a tumble out of the trees to slaughter and dismember Kiraak to my heart’s content. The fire even followed me into my dreams, lighting my mind with visions of death until I woke up with an aching jaw, all to begin the day again.

On one such evening, I was drowsily laying in the crook of my tree branch, waiting for sleep to finish coming, when I heard my splinters murmuring somewhere nearby. When I glanced around, I failed to see them, but after focusing, I could still make out their words from wherever they’d hidden themselves.

“So, he’s back in full, then,” one said. “Is that good or bad for the plan?”

“I don’t know about the ‘in full’ part,” the other retorted. “From what I can tell, the base layer of his life has gotten through the artificial wall keeping it contained, but everything behind the ones that those two raised themselves? Not so much.”

With a frustrated sigh, the first one said, “Regardless. He has access to his memories of Hand training in Daira again. Do you think his skills from that time will return as well, now that his mind doesn’t have to hide that training from him? And if so, will that affect our plan?”

“How am I supposed to know? By me, you can’t rely on me for reassurance about this stuff, Order. It takes a lot out of me to support you in any way, and you keep doing it. I get it. You died and came back. That’s not something we’re supposed to deal with, and during that impossible event, we formed a weirdly gross and uncomfortable bond. But you have to give me a break every so often, ya bore. I will do my best to keep you stable but hell! The effort of it is already starting to wear at my… everything, including how firm my hold here is.”

There was some silence, but then, the first voice—presumably Bright’s—softly said.

“I know. I’m doing my best too.”

With a loud and long sigh, Dim said, “Yeah, yeah. Maybe you can find another form of support elsewhere. I know Raimie gets worried about you sometimes. He could-”

“Don’t even suggest it. He cannot, I repeat, cannot know how fallible we are. He relies on us too much for that.”

“…Whatever you say, stick in the mud.”

“Chaotic fool.”

“Stuck in your… no. You know what? Instead of arguing, let’s take the time to rest, yes?”

“Fine.”

They fell silent, and I was left wondering what I’d overheard before falling to nightmares again. As usual, that unconscious state placed its spell upon me, fuzzing over the moments right before it had come to visit. So, when I woke up, I knew a significant exchange had occurred between my splinters the night before, and I could vaguely remember what it had been about, but the details had disappeared into an unreachable part of my mind.

And so, the journey continued.

On the morning before we reached Tiro, something new came along to make an already difficult journey even more impossible. As I hovered in the unnerving space between dreams and waking, I heard an unknown and yet familiar voice roaring through my head.

COME HERE, YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!

And Nylion, who’d been slowly blinking at me to that point, went absolutely white in the face before disappearing.

The next thing I knew I was far away from where I’d been resting with a knife drawn, digging at the ivy hanging over a hollow. I kept jerking my head between my work and the space behind me, where I’d been pointing the knife, but… there was nothing there. I had nothing to fear here…

And yet, I did. Someone was coming after me. I knew it. I didn’t know who it was or what, but they were coming. They were coming!

And- and- and I knew how to fight now. If someone tried to hurt me, I could hurt them right back. I could keep myself safe. 

This thought was enough to stop me from digging for a place of safety, but even as I turned back toward where I thought the road might be, I couldn’t return my knife to its sheath. Gradually, I got it to a hanging spot beside my leg, but I couldn’t get further than that for the rest of the morning, always sure that someone was going to jump me if I relaxed my guard for a single moment.

Even if I also knew that probably wouldn’t happen.

It was strange and contradictory and completely out of proportion to what was happening around me, just like that weird thing that had happened in Sanc, and I hated it.

…Given the context of what I’d remembered, Ryvolim’s explanation from that day made a lot more sense.

Around midday, Nylion popped back into being. Giving the knife a strange look, he half-smiled at me before nudging my shoulder, saying not a word, and slowly, I put the weapon away.

When we eventually reached Tiro, I skipped going through the gate, leaping and clambering up the vines covering it until I was perched at the top. Without checking what was lying below me, I jumped into the abyss, landing with a shower of light into the midst of shouting people. Hands reached for me, and I retreated only to smoosh into a wall of flesh from behind. Was Tiro under attack? Gods, had I somehow been right this morning?

Then, I heard the chanting.

“Our king! Our liberator! Auden’s hope!”

And I peeled my hands away from my weapons. How had these people known…?

On the fringe of the crowd, one of Ren’s underlings nodded a cloth-swaddled head toward me, and I sighed. Someone must have spotted me as I’d approached the city. Given the reception I’d received, it must have been after my little… fit.

So. Tiro wanted to honor me for my victory at the Birthing Grounds, but if that was truly what they wanted, they were going about it the wrong way. I’d rather have them greeting my soldiers when they returned. They were the ones who deserved this celebration, but if the city insisted on honoring me, I wished it had come in the form of support for my next endeavor, not as a party.

As I pushed my way out of the crowd, I plastered a pleased grin on my face for their benefit, but I refused to stop. Soon enough, I broke through the crowd’s fringe and into an empty space, finally allowed to pick up the pace.

The celebration continued unabated behind me, which was good. I didn’t want to interrupt the crowd’s joy just because I didn’t agree with it.

Eledis was waiting for me outside of Tanwadur’s house, probably wanting a personal report of the battle, and at his presumption, I nearly stopped short while Nylion broke off to circle the old man. Somehow, I found the strength to keep moving despite the desire to draw Silverblade and run the old man through. Violence—murder—would be frowned upon in such a public place, and besides that and it being wrong, Eledis would handily defeat me. My grandfather was stronger, more powerful, and more conniving than my ignorant, former self could have comprehended. 

Of all my targets, Eledis was the most dangerous. When it came to getting justice, I shouldn’t start with him but with the weakest instead.

Hissing, Nylion said, "Soon enough.”

And I nodded.

The moment we have an opportunity, I said.

In the house, I flung open the door to my family’s borrowed room, and my father looked up from the book he’d been reading.

“Raimie!” he said with a smile. “I didn’t expect you back for a few more days. How did you…?”

He continued rambling, which I half-listened to as I closed and latched the door behind me, and at my side, Nylion crossed his arms.

“So?” he asked. “How do we start?”

Like this.

“Nylion says hello,” I said, interrupting our father’s prattle.

Stiffening, he glanced toward mama’s bow, leaning at the foot of his bed, and Nylion burst into laughter.

“Oh my gods, that was perfect,” he said. “Even I am a little scared of you right now.”

No, you’re not.

“Don’t do it,” I said in warning to my father. “I’d fill you with holes before you reached it, even if you are my father.

No need to mention that the damage would come from the pistol resting at the small of my back, not the dark energy that I usually had on hand. Even days after my overuse, the thought of touching Daevetch made me feel shaky.

Watching my father nervously shift in place, I couldn’t help the little pulse of hurt that rose above the red haze that had been surrounding me for the last few days.

“So, it’s true,” I said. “You do know about him.”

Jerking his head toward me, Nylion said, “You doubted that?”

No, I hadn’t. But I also hadn’t wanted to believe it because… because I loved my father. He’d been so good to me, especially since I’d found Shadowsteal, and learning that he, specifically him, had done something so terrible to me hurt worse than I could say.

Why had I figured that out right now?

I condensed these complicated feelings down to one word for Nylion.

No. 

But I thought he understood regardless, given how much he winced. Maybe some of what was coursing through me right now had flowed to him over our bond.

Slumping, my father said, “I’ve been waiting to have this conversation for years.”

He was quiet for a moment before setting his jaw.

“Your mother told me about that aberration in your head when you were three,” he continued, “but I didn’t believe it was real at first. Thought it was my imaginative boy having fun until… until after we took you to Allanovian.”

Allanovian? Was he talking about when he and the others had stolen Nylion from me or-?

“And that is supposed to excuse what you did?” Nylion hissed, advancing toward my father. “I have only ever done what was needed to keep us alive, and you… you!”

Gods… so much hatred! Alarmed, I reached for my other half, hoping it would calm him down, and only remembered that I was being watched halfway through lifting my arm.

Eyeing me, my father said, “He’s here right now, isn’t he? What’s he doing? Threatening to kill me?”

With a shriek, Nylion lifted his hands, strangling the air instead of the man he couldn’t touch.

“I do not want that! I have never wanted to kill people, you quick-to-judge, ignorant ass!” he hissed. “You made us this way. You! We’d never- never…”

Apparently unable to form more words, he simply stood there for a moment, tensed all to hell, so I did what I could to translate for the man who couldn’t hear any of that.

“Neither of us want you dead. This anger, however… it’s making it difficult to be around you. Still, I’m here because I want to know why Nylion was taken from me. Why did you let that happen?”

I wasn’t sure if my father believed my claim. He still looked ready to bolt, no matter how much he’d tried to relax. Getting up, he started toward me, and as he came closer, a wave of prickles rolled over my skin. I took several steps away, which made my father wince.

Stopping beside the door, he rested his hand on his hips with his head hanging.

Sighing, he said, “It needed to be done. There are things that… happened, things I’m pretty sure you don’t know about. Nylion was becoming… harmful. So, trust me, son, when I tell you that separating you two was for your own good.”

For my own good?

With familiar heat flashing through me, I barely kept from reaching for a weapon.

“How can you say that?” I forced through my clenched teeth. “Losing Nylion was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and you caused it. You made me forget him. That’s like if I made you forget about mama. Worse, because he’s a part of me. And that’s not even touching on your total manipulation of my memories. Why would you take our years in Daira from me? Stealing Nylion wasn’t good enough? How can you argue that something so destructive was ‘for my own good’?”

My father had gone still, leaving the room quiet except for my gasping, and with a growl, Nylion ate the distance to the man, stepping toe-to-toe with him.

“I was alone for nine years,” he hissed. “Nine fucking years that felt like hundreds. I will have retribution for that.”

Of course, my father had heard none of this, and breaking free of his shock, he opened his mouth to retort with his face turning ruddy.

That was when the door banged open, whipping all three of us toward it. 

Chapter 42: It's True

Raimie

 

In the room's threshold, Ren braced one hand against the doorframe while the other kept it from swinging closed.

The sight of her nipped my fury at my father in the bud with even Nylion going cold. Had she sprinted all this way to greet me after learning I was home? She must have missed me.

“Tell Kylorian to stop with the lies,” she gasped. “He claims that Hadrion fell in battle. The bastard insisted it was your fault.”

My smile slipped when I realized why Nylion had gone cold at the sight of her.

“Why don’t you come inside?” my father said. “Sit down. Please.”

While she hesitantly did as he’d suggested, he escaped through the open door behind her, and although normally, my father’s flight would have had me chasing after him, currently all I wanted to do was switch places with him, creating distance between myself and Ren. Obsessed with the wrongs committed against me, I’d forgotten what was waiting for me on my return to Tiro. I’d forgotten the grief and guilt that had been spawned by the death of an innocent, teenage boy.

How could I forget?

Flopping onto one of the room’s beds, Ren said, “Why did you fake it this time? As far as I know, Hadrion isn’t in any danger, not like Rhy was. Everyone he’s ever met loves him. So, did one of the Kiraak at the Birthing Grounds take a shine to him as well?”

Oh, how those teasing words hurt, making my heart break for her.

“Ren… it’s not a lie,” I made myself say.

Gods, why was saying this worse than what I’d done with my father? I didn’t want to tell her, wanted to let her live in blissful ignorance for a little while longer but…

“We cannot,” Nylion breathed.

Coming to me, he cupped my elbow, lowering his forehead to my shoulder.

“Tell her,” he said.

“What do you mean it’s not a lie?” Ren asked.

As she’d spoken, her teasing smile had started slipping and hell. This was going to kill me.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “Kylorian is… telling the truth. In the Birthing Grounds, an Enforcer snuck up on me and Hadrion while I was distracted. She took your brother hostage, and rather than allowing me to take his place, he… well, he died. I’m so sorry.”

For the longest time, Ren said nothing. Her face spoke for her, washing of color as it was.

“Get out,” she eventually said in a faint voice.

And I blinked. I’d expected a host of reactions from her: weeping, beating her fists on me, screaming. This wasn’t one of them.

“Are you…?”

But I wasn’t sure how to finish that question.

“Out! Before I do something I regret.”

Gods, her voice had been trembling with ferocity, and look at the tears in her eyes! Faced with the force of her cold fury, I retreated, and when the door snicked closed behind me, I collapsed on it.

Would she ever forgive me, or was I destined to endure her displeasure until the end of my days? Could I bear it if she blamed me? Why did the thought of that happening with her hurt worse than if it had been coming from someone like Ryvolim? He was my friend too. Why-?

Behind me, Nylion said, “She will eventually forgive you, heart of my heart. Vengefulness is not in her nature.”

Unlike with us, apparently. Although I didn’t know if I’d classify anything that had happened with my father as ‘revenge’.

When I glanced up at Nylion, he was hugging himself, which surprised me. He hadn’t been around much when I’d spent time with Ren, so why did he look almost as distressed by her reaction as I was? Was he merely feeling my emotions right now?

“What will I do if she looks at me with nothing but hate, Nyl?” I said. “I can’t… I can’t do that again.”

I wasn’t sure when this situation had happened before, but I couldn’t face seeing such a thing here.

Before Nylion could respond, heavy footfalls spun me around, and I nervously watched as Kylorian stormed toward me.

“Is Ren in there?” he said, jerking his head toward the door at my back.

Unable to say a word, I nodded. Kylorian had asked me to give him space, and yet, here I was, in his face less than a week after I’d last seen him. Gods, I was the worst friend.

“Did you tell her I wasn’t lying about… Hadrion?” he snapped.

Swallowing hard, I said, “Yes. Of course. I will never lie to her, not even to save myself from pain.”

Wordlessly, Kylorian examined me before nodding.

“I want to see her,” he said.

Coming forward, he reached around me for the knob at my back, but I grabbed his wrist before he could touch it, wincing all the while.

“That’s not a good idea,” I said. “She wants to be alone.”

Glaring at me, Kylorian said, “Is that what she said? Or does she not want to be around you?”

With a sharp breath, I pulled away, releasing Kylorian. After all, that thought had crossed my mind.

In the end, though, I didn’t think it was likely. Ren liked to show the world a brave face. She didn’t let many people near her when she was feeling vulnerable, and while she’d let the few of us she trusted help her at times, Hadrion’s death was a personal grief that she wouldn’t want to share with anyone. Even with two times practice, mourning a sibling wouldn’t be any less painful. The initial outpouring of emotion that was sure to be happening behind this door was for Ren and Ren alone.

That was what I thought, at least.

So, when Kylorian tried for the door again, perhaps taking my silence as assent, I stepped in between him and his goal.

“She said she wanted to be alone,” I repeated. “I think we should respect her wishes. When she’s ready to talk, I can come find you.”

Stiffening, Kylorian flexed his hands a few times before slumping.

“You’re right. Of course you’re right. She’ll come out when she’s good and ready,” he said. “I just… don’t know what to do with myself until then.”

Could I…? I didn’t know if this was a good idea but-

“If you like, I could buy us drinks at Sigemond’s,” I said. “We could wait for her there.”

“No,” Kylorian almost immediately replied. “I… appreciate the offer, Raimie. Truly. But I can’t. Still can’t. I’m sorry.”

Biting my lip, I hugged myself to contain my pain.

“Don’t apologize. I understand. I’m sorry that I… had to be around you so soon. After,” I said. “I’ll do my best to stay away while I’m in Tiro.”

“That might be for the best,” Kylorian said.

He turned to leave, but much as I should let him go, I still had a question for him, one that was burning a hole in my pocket.

“Why did you tell Ren that his death was my fault?” I said. “I thought- I thought you didn’t blame me for it.”

Kylorian stopped short, never turning toward me.

“I didn’t tell her anything like that,” he said. “All I did was tell her what happened, as much as I was able to at least. If she interpreted that to mean this was your fault, then that’s her beliefs speaking, not mine.”

Like a dagger, those words plunged straight into my heart, and I folded around the wound. I didn’t see Kylorian’s departure, overcome with what he’d said. Did Ren blame me?

“We cannot know the answer to that question until we ask her,” Nylion said. “Do not believe a single man’s word, especially about something like this. Only Ren can know what is going on inside her head.”

Right. Of course.

Able to breathe again, I straightened, but I wasn’t sure what I should do next. I badly wanted to open the door behind me and help Ren, but like I’d told Kylorian, I’d respect her wishes. If she needed space, then I’d give her space.

Besides, a ridiculous amount of work was crowding my plate, ready to provide a welcome distraction from… everything. I could catch up with my father and finish our conversation, or I could see what Eledis had come up with regarding plans for liberating Elisk, or I could find Tanwadur and apologize for Hadrion’s death… But that would probably end with a near-to-death beating and exile from Tiro.

Hell. When next we met, I’d be lucky if Hadrion’s father decided exile was enough of a punishment for me.

So, what else should I handle right now?

“Finish the conversation with your father,” Nylion said, biting off the words. “The rest can wait. We need to resolve what that man did to us.”

All right. I could do that. Before I could get started with it, though, something stopped me short.

“Raimie?”

The door might have muffled Ren’s quiet voice, but still, the sound of it kept me firmly stuck in place.

“Yes?” I hesitantly said, hoping she’d say something more.

Please, let her say a single word more to me.

“You can come in.”

I was through the door before I’d registered opening it. By some miracle, Ren had managed to keep her tears at bay to this point, but when she met my eyes, they spilled over. Tiny hiccups and gasps shook her frame, and crossing the distance to her, I drew her into a hug. Stiffening, she weakly pushed against me, but I wasn’t letting her go. Now that she’d let me in, I was never letting go.

“My baby brother,” she sobbed.

Pounding a fist on my back, she cried those words over and over again until her legs stopped supporting her, and I had to lower us onto a bed. With Nylion pressing up against her other side, I arranged her in my lap. I let Ren soak my clothes with her tears while my spirit fractured alongside hers, and as I ran my fingers through her hair, she gradually calmed down before drifting into dreams, despite the sun’s height in the sky.

And I refused to move.

Chapter 43: My Intentions

Eledis

 

“Laest one fur evening, uld man,” Sigemond told me.

His peculiar accent always made it difficult to understand him when I was in this completely sloshed state, but his meaning got pretty clear when he thumped a tankard of ale in front of me, giving me a pointed look, before returning to his other customers.

“I’m not… old,” I shouted after him. “So rude.”

The guard who’d originally accompanied me here had long since departed, giving some bullshit excuse about his duty to Kaedesa to excuse his abandonment. After he’d left, I’d done the same for a time, meaning to find somewhere I wouldn’t make a fool of myself, but then, I’d run into Raimie in Tiro’s training yard and…

Suffice it to say that our chance meeting hadn’t gone well. With an aching back and a limp, I’d haltingly returned to the comfort of this tavern and its well-known wares.

Folding my body around my mug, I sipped the foam on its lip. What made that Alouin damned barkeep think that he could cut me off? I was descended from royalty. By rights, I should get all of the ale I wanted. If I were king…

Well, if I were king, circumstances would be much different. Feeling myself growing maudlin, I tossed back my drink.

“Someone should play a cheerier tune, damnit!” I shouted.

The man in the corner, who’d been contentedly strumming his lute’s strings, jerked toward me, making a jarring note clash with his song.

“His playing’s fine,” an unseen patron shouted back. “Go home if you don’t like it, old man.”

And I shot to my feet, clinging to the table while the tavern spun.

“I am not old,” I growled. “Who said that? Come here and say it to my face!”

As if I’d told some joke, the other tavern’s patrons returned to their drinks with indulgent smiles in place. Even Sigemond was smirking, where he was wiping his damn dirty rag over his damn glasses. Alouin, it was outrageous.

“Attend to me, you worthless peasants!” I shouted.

After a pause, the room erupted into laughter, and fire sprang to life in me.

“I could have your heads,” I roared, drawing Shadowsteal. “All of you!”

The tavern fell still with the patron’s panicked titters as loud as screams. Everyone knew that drawing a weapon in a tavern was one of the most anathema of taboos. Put a sharp edge in the hands of a drunkard, and someone was liable to get hurt or dead.

Before anyone could move or decide to be a hero, the tavern’s door banged open.

“There you are!” a familiar voice said.

Whirling toward it, I stumbled, bringing Shadowsteal to bear on the intruder.

Marcuset. Oh, hell…

“Apologies for my friend, Sigemond,” the commander said. “He’s never handled his liquor well.”

As he strode toward me, he locked his eyes on mine, and on stopping outside of my reach, he crossed his arms.

“Put it away,” he said.

So, the commander wanted to play that game, did he? Well, royalty could participate in a staring contest just as well as a soldier. For as long as I must, I could meet those exhausted, pitying, concerned…

Sheathing Shadowsteal, I hung my head, and stepping forward, Marcuset grabbed my arm, dragging me to the door.

“Some coin for your trouble.”

The leftovers of my friend’s voice mingled with the jingle of chits sliding against one another.

“Please, don’t let the king hear about this,” Marcuset said.

Sigemond heaved a sigh while scraping the coins against wood.

“He’s nu lunger welcome in bar,” he said.

“Fair enough,” Marcuset said.

Once we were outside, I stumbled down the porch’s stairs, and my friend slung one of my arms over his shoulders, miraculously keeping me from faceplanting in the stone beneath us. We shuffled down deserted streets until Marcuset found an empty doorway for us to slump in.

“How dare he forbid me from his establishment,” I mumbled to myself. “Such a transgression demands… demands fitting punishment. I should give him a piece… of my mind.”

“Don’t bother. I doubt he cares about what you have to say,” Marcuset said. “Besides, I’ve already given him an appropriate punishment.”

A whisky bottle of excellent quality had appeared in my friend’s hand, but I was too drunk to truly appreciate its value.

“This is why people don’t like the Esela,” I said with my words slurring together. “Magic is cheating, would make thieving like you did so much easier, and you’re full of it tonight.”

“How do you mean?” Marcuset asked.

Uncorking the bottle, he took a swig from it before offering it to me.

“I mean that you’re supposed to be at the Birthing Grounds, which is at least a hundred miles away.”

When I tilted my head back, fire scoured my mouth, and I smiled. Now, I could appreciate this whisky’s quality.

“Before deserting us at the Birthing Grounds, Kaedesa lent us a few horses, for use in case of emergency,” Marcuset said. “I figured that the two of you meeting up qualified as an emergency, so I followed her as soon as I could. It seems I wasn’t fast enough to prevent a disaster, though.”

Nope. I wasn’t thinking about Kaedesa right now. I wouldn’t do it.

“Who’d you leave in charge at the Birthing Grounds?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

As if the answer had been obvious, Marcuset drawled, “Oswin.”

“Oh. Good choice.”

Taking another swig, I handed the bottle back, and sipping at its amber liquid, Marcuset watched me with glittering eyes, as if assessing me.

“A question’s been eating at me for a while, my friend,” he said.

Rolling my head toward him, I said, “What’s that?”

For a moment, Marcuset shifted in place, but eventually, he answered me.

“I know you have plans in Auden, but I can’t be sure if any of them will end with Raimie left alive.”

Freezing with the bottle halfway to my lips, I forced out a laugh.

“Are you asking if I’m planning to have a family member killed?” I asked.

With a heavy sigh, Marcuset said, “Yes, Eledis.”

Well, fuck. I’d never thought my friend would actually ask about this.

“Why, Marcuset,” I said. “I do believe you’re trying to take advantage of my ine-inebriated state.”

Tensing, Marcuset squeezed his hands together, which was his tell-tale sign that he was about to lose his temper.

“Answer the question, please,” he said.

Agh! Sometimes, I wanted to tear my friend’s throat out. Why wouldn’t he leave this be?

“YES! If I need to kill Raimie to reach the end goal, I’ll do it,” I snapped. “But I don’t want to. If Raimie keeps following his role in my script, then he’ll live a long, happy life, probably with Ren. They can have a horde of Eselan brats together. Or maybe it’ll be with Kaedesa. Wouldn’t that be funny?”

Tilting the bottle back, I drained it, coughing as its liquid went down. With his mouth dropped open, Marcuset had pressed his back into the doorframe, pushing against the ground to get as far away from me as possible.

“That’s what she wanted?” he said. “To marry him?”

I nodded.

“We thought we were so clever, burning her journals when we needed to escape her notice,” I said. “Don’t we look like fools now.”

“I’m… so sorry, Eledis,” Marcuset said. “I know what that first marriage did to you.”

“Don’t.”

I didn’t want to go there, and fortunately, Marcuset dropped it. Resting my head against the doorframe, I’d almost dozed off when my friend spoke again.

“So. As long as Raimie hands the throne over to you at the end, you won’t kill him?” he asked.

“That about sums it up,” I said, lazily waving a hand through the air. “I doubt Raimie will want to keep it anyway, and after all these years, I think I deserve it, don’t you, Emir?”

“Don’t call me that,” my friend said. “I left that name and life behind years ago. You should do the same, Eledis, but… you never will. You cling to your name like it’s your last buoy in a hurricane, but I’m not like you. I’m Marcuset now.”

Yawning, I slowly said, “Fiiine. Since we’re on the subject of names, why’d you choose such a stupid one for these people?”

Marcuset groaned.

“I wanted Marcus, but there’s a silly, social convention about naming in Ada’ir at the moment.”

“Ah, yes,” I said. “Esela get two syllables or less for their names while humans must have more.”

“Exactly. So, I was forced to take a longer name rather than something I’m comfortable with,” my friend said. “Hence, Marcuset.”

As I guffawed, the intensity of my laughter drove sleep to the fringes for a moment.

“Oh, I can just imagine your first meeting in Ada’ir’s court:

“‘Hello, my name’s Marcus,’ you say, introducing yourself.

“She looks at you and your extended hand with distaste. ‘Marcus…?’ she asks.

“Shit, you think, Alouin damned people and their stupid rules. What can I tack on so the name has a third syllable? And the name Marcuset was dragged from your reluctant lips.”

With a smirk, Marcuset said, “That’s remarkably accurate.”

I snorted, barely keeping from laughing again.

“I’m never going to let you live that down,” I said.

“You’ve obviously not had enough to drink,” Marcuset said over my helplessly renewed laughter. “Let’s fix that.”

He pulled another bottle from seeming thin air, and the two of us eagerly set upon it.

The next morning, this house’s owner would find us passed out in front of her door, and her outraged shouting would wake the block, but we wouldn’t care. We’d continue as we always had, two friends somehow still bonded together in their fight against the world.

Chapter 44: Gaining Him Means Losing Her

Raimie

 

Pins and needles were running rampant over my leg, but still, I wouldn’t shift Ren off of me. I didn’t want to disturb her rest, of course, but I also sincerely liked having her body pressed against mine.

Everything about her was soft—her skin, her hair, her lips—and she smelled amazing. She had an understated beauty, something that sometimes took my breath away. It wasn’t the same as Kaedesa with her curves and confidence, which frankly, intimidated me sometimes. No, Ren’s lean frame and long legs had always appealed to me.

I could kiss her awake, hold her tight, and show her that something good still existed in her grief-stricken world, but… now didn’t seem like the best time for that. 

“I do not think she would mind at this point,” Nylion said.

Nestled against her, he looked drowsy, perfectly at ease for once, which I found a little strange. I was glad to see it, but why was he acting this way around her when he’d never relaxed around anyone besides me before?

She might not mind, but I would, I said.

Nylion lazily drifted his blue eyes, the only part of his face that wasn’t smashed beyond recognizability, to me.

“You would?” he said before his confusion cleared. “Ah. Yes, you would. I can feel it, which is strange because you were just admiring her body.”

Glaring at him, I said, Can you blame me?

As Nylion traced what he could see of Ren, he hummed.

“No. No, I cannot,” he said.

And gods, that bounce of need between us, back and forth, one to the other. It was… distracting.

Laughing under his breath, Nylion said, “And you still think that Ren is merely a friend? Even with that?”

What else am I supposed to call her? I said with a frown. I mean… yes. I feel MORE for her than I do for Ryvolim or Oswin or Dath, but I don’t know what the distinction is. Maybe… love? Hadrion… asked me about that a while ago.

Slamming my eyes closed, I pushed back a sharp sting of grief, rising from within. I must have shifted in the process because with a sharply drawn breath, Ren moved her head on my leg. 

Blinking, she sleepily smiled at me for a single, blissful moment before realization hit her, and she jerked upright, almost clipping my chin with her forehead. Nervously giggling, she swiped at her face and hair.

“Can’t believe I fell asleep on you,” she said. “I must look like a mess.”

Exchanging a glance with Nylion, I said, “You’re a vision of beauty.”

Maybe I didn’t know what to call this strange thing I had with Ren. Maybe it was love. In the end, I didn’t think it needed a label. It was nice and good, and I’d simply… go with it. Move along in this relationship in whatever way felt right.

Frowning at me, Ren shifted off of my lap, and somehow, I kept from making a face at that loss of contact. I couldn’t, however, protest what she’d done, not in the face of why we were here.

“What now?” I asked.

What more did she need from me right now? I’d do anything to help.

Wiping her eyes, Ren said, “You must be busy. I’ve taken up enough of your time, I know, but… I can’t deal with what’s waiting beyond that door yet. Will you sit with me for a little while? Maybe you could tell me a story. As a distraction, obviously.”

Flushing, she glanced away.

Stay with her? Tell her stories?

“I’d love to,” I said with a smile.

I couldn’t blame her for wanting to stay here. Who wanted to plan a sibling’s burial?

So, I told her a horror story that mama had once whispered to me on the darkest of nights, trying to make me scream. What had failed to scare me in the past worked its magic on Ren, and while she playfully slapped at me, I rubbed at my ringing ears, laughing.

At her insistence, I switched to fairy tales, and as I engulfed us in make-believe worlds of magic and duels and evil vanquished by good, time passed us by. I took great pride in sharing one of my favorite stories about the Eselan Preserver, one that she joined in on halfway through the telling. Apparently, tales of the world’s legendary savior weren’t centered solely in Ada’ir.

I still couldn’t quite believe that they were stories about my friend.

After one especially grisly story, Ren said, “Your home kingdom must be peaceful indeed if wars are held in such high regard there.”

“Ada’ir is nothing like Auden,” I said, “but it’s had its fair share of trouble.”

I told her about rebellions against Ada’ir’s queen and pirate attacks on coastal cities. At some point, the narrative shifted to details about my life, and with nostalgia, I talked about the winter when my family and I had nearly starved to death because of our poor planning, which sent her into a fit of laughter.

Of course, now I knew that that winter had been our first freezing season away from Daira’s comforts, but I didn’t tell her about that. In fact, I avoided anything that had come before my ninth birthday. Those recently recovered memories—so many of them and more pouring into my head every day—were too raw and fresh to share with someone else, even someone like Ren.

“She would not understand,” Nylion said. “Not yet.”

More like she’d think I’d lost my mind for forgetting so much about my life, I said, but point taken.

With a soft smile, Nylion said, “You would be surprised how easily love can color someone’s vision, heart of my heart, and I believe this is how Ren feels about you. I doubt she would think you are crazy.”

Well, that made me beyond uncomfortable.

Snorting, I said, Like you’ve had any experience with love.

But Nylion met my eyes, completely serious, as he said.

“I have. With you.”

My thoughts screeched to a stop, and as my body stiffened against her, Ren frowned at me.

Wha… what do you mean? I said.

Shaking his head, Nylion said, “It is not finished, then. That is fine. Stop focusing on me, Raimie, when Ren is right here. With you.”

I couldn’t close my gaping mouth, though. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of Nylion, who was absently tapping his fingers on his knees, as I wondered what he could have meant. If this thing I had with Ren was love, then… did that mean Nylion felt the same way about me?

That couldn’t be right, could it? We were the same, each one half of a whole. Could one love oneself in the same way I felt about Ren? The idea felt… strange. I didn’t know what to do with it.

“Raimie?” Ren said.

Shaking my whole body, I said. “Sorry. Sorry! Where were we?”

Still a little addled, I continued with my stories, but soon enough, I was drawn back into a verbal dance with Ren. Over the course of my stories, she shifted her body’s weight against me, closing her eyes, but quiet murmurs of surprise and appreciation let me know she was still listening.

I cautiously wrapped an arm around her, and when she snuggled deeper into my chest, I happily hummed, resting my chin on her head. The position made talking difficult—the back of her head was pushing into my neck—but I enjoyed the brush of her hair against it too much to move.

We’d folded ourselves into a warm cocoon of safety and contentment, a barrier against the hardships looming over our heads, and I never wanted to leave it.

It cracked when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Ren called.

The door opened with a thud, and frowning, I blinked at Kylorian. Compared to the sense of peace that Ren and I had been floating in for the last hour, he looked devastated. Stains were streaked down his clothes, and a puffy, soon-to-be-bruise rested on the crest of his cheekbone. His eyes looked wild, and I could smell the alcohol soaking him from the opposite side of the room.

Gods, I didn’t like seeing him like this. He must be hurting, which pained me in turn.

“You!” he shouted, pointing at me. “You were supposed to find me when Ren was ready for company, you…”

Swaying in place, he searched for the word he wanted.

“Liar! You big fucking liar!”

He seemed mildly pleased with himself for having remembered what he’d needed to say.

With a gasp, Ren said, “Language, Ky! Hell. How much have you had to drink?”

“None of your business,” Kylorian growled, wobbling. “You should be with mom and dad, helping with Hadrion. Instead, you’re here. Alone. With him.”

That had me bristling, but before I could say anything, Ren squeezed my thigh until sparks of pain shot up it.

“I’ll head upstairs soon,” she said. “Will you join us until then, or would you rather sleep off what you’ve drunk first?”

As he tried to figure out whether Ren’s question had been hiding an insult in it, Kylorian screwed his face up, and after a beat, Ren waved him away.

“You’ll do what you must, as usual,” she said. “Is there anything else I should know before you leave?”

Kylorian must have missed the warning in Ren’s voice because he remained fixed in place, thinking, before snapping his fingers.

“There’s a woman outside who insists on speaking with your lover,” he said.

That last word saw Ren shrinking on herself, and glancing at her, I rubbed her shoulder. Why would she take issue with Kylorian calling me her ‘lover’? I did… love her. I thought. So, why was that one word a problem?

“Quite a temper on that one,” Kylorian continued. “She almost sicced her goons on me when I didn’t let her into the house.”

And that description distinctly reminded me of someone I knew.

“Gods damnit,” I said. “Did she have green eyes and brown hair, like a chestnut?”

“Yup,” Kylorian said.

Groaning, I smacked my head against the wall, which made Kylorian laugh for some reason.

“All right, Ky,” Ren growled. “You can get out now.”

Once he was gone, we heard his laughter through the door and down the corridor beyond, but as soon as he was out of earshot, Ren rounded on me.

“Who is this woman Ky’s talking about?” she asked.

Oh Alouin, why had she so quickly zeroed in on the source of my discomfort? And how did I explain this without upsetting Ren?

Maybe I should stick with the simplest answer.

“The queen of Ada’ir,” I said, barely keeping from wincing.

This only made Ren more curious.

“And what does a queen want with you?” she said.

Chewing on my lip, I considered lying to her, but… that seemed like a bad practice when with those that one… loved. Plus, I’d always been the worst liar.

“She wants to expand her power base,” I said. “When I fled her realm, I commandeered a few of her assets, which has put me in her debt. She wants me to repay that debt in an unusual manner.”

“I’m sorry. Why does stealing from a person you’re fleeing from put you in her debt?” Ren snapped.

Um… wasn’t the answer to that question obvious?

When I thought about it, though, I actually… didn’t have an answer to Ren’s question, but before I could truly think about it, she shook her head.

“Let’s set that aside,” she said. “How does she expect you to repay her?”

Shit.

Coughing, I mumbled my response under my breath.

“What was that?” Ren asked.

And as I’d always done when I was in trouble, I looked to Nylion for help.

With a soft smile, my other half said, “How is hiding it from her going to help?”

But… I didn’t want to tell her. If I did… if I-

“Raimie!” Ren snapped.

“Marriage, gods damnit!” I shouted. “She wants to marry me.”

I ran my hands through my hair, tugging on its strands.

“She’s offered the support of her kingdom’s military and economic wealth in exchange for a place at my side as the queen of Auden.”

With no strength left, I let my hands flop into my lap, inspecting them as if they were the most fascinating items in the world. I didn’t want to know what Ren was thinking, didn’t want to hear it, but when she eventually broke the silence, she sounded calmer than I’d thought she’d be.

“How would that work?” she asked. “Would she keep Ada’ir’s throne when she took her place as queen here?”

“Yes. It’s not unprecedented in history,” I said. “The Southern Kingdoms trade hands via bride so often that the political landscape in the south can change over the course of months rather than decades.”

On hearing what I’d said, I grimaced. My early lessons from politics and history tutors were ringing clear as a bell, now that my mind didn’t need to fabricate a tale about where the information had come from.

“What do you think of this offer?” Ren asked, this time dangerously calm.

“I hate it!” I said. “I-”

Laying a hand on my chest, Ren forced me to meet her eyes.

“Raimie, what do you honestly think?” she said.

Why? Why was she doing this to me?

“Personally, I’d reject this proposal outright. I’m not sure how it would affect you or our relationship with one another, but I know it would, and… I like what we have here.”

I grabbed Ren’s hand before looking away.

“As for what’s best for Auden, I’d be crazy not to accept. We could use the influx of soldiers and supplies, and despite what Kaedesa might think, she wouldn’t be the only one expanding her realm’s influence. Auden would have a say in what happens across the sea.”

There was a small pause, leaving me fighting to control my breathing, while Nylion crawled around Ren to the other side of me. He laid a hand on my cheek.

“Whatever she says, we will be ok,” he said. “Eventually.”

Why had he said that? Why-?

“Then, you must accept.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t accept what had come out of Ren’s mouth. She hadn’t said that. She hadn’t.

“Ren. What are you-?” I started.

“Hush, now,” she said.

She smoothed a hand across my face, where Nylion’s had been resting, to turn me toward her, and I flinched at the look on her face.

“You are a king, my love. In all things, you must conduct yourself in a manner that betters Auden,” she quietly said. “Your wants. Your desires. They have no relevance anymore. To this point, you’ve been allowed to do as you please because your successes have dazzled the populace, but eventually, your freedom to do this will shrink. It will start now, I suppose.”

All of which made me want to scream.

“The Audish people haven’t even accepted me as their king! Kylorian and I mean to let them choose between us,” I said. “So, let’s not make any hasty decisions until…”

I trailed off at Ren’s smile, bittersweet and withering as it was.

“Tiro already lauds you, much as it might seem otherwise, and once they get to know you, the cities that Doldimar holds under his thumb will quickly forgive your relation to the king of old, much like we have,” she said. “My brother doesn’t stand a chance against your claim to the throne.”

“How can you tell me to- to accept this?” I said.

The conclusion our conversation was leading to? I’d started to see how inevitable it was, and hell if it wasn’t making me reckless with my words. I needed to scream them at her, making her see, but I kept my voice level. Somehow.

“You and I, we have something real here. You make me feel safe in a way that no one else has ever come close to doing. It’s almost like… you’ve become my best ally, the only person who’s more-than-a-friend to me, and I need that right now,” I said. “If I marry her, it will be gone forever.”

Straddling me, Ren ground her elbows into my collarbones to hold me firmly in place, and my resulting wave of nausea and terror broke off any further protestations I’d have made.

“You see me differently than other people do, my love,” she said. “You appreciate me despite my shortcomings, those that the Audish populace will never accept in a queen. They’ll never let a half-Eselan sit on the throne.

“I love you, Raimie.”

And through this declaration, Ren’s longing poured from her like a tidal wave.

“But I love the idea of an Auden that’s free from Doldimar more.”

She leaned in, but no passion fueled this kiss. Desperation made her clench my hair and neck, but her lips were light on mine. When she pulled away, I scrambled to chase her, but she pushed me back down.

“Our relationship was finished the moment your queen made her offer.”

Sliding off of me, Ren stalked to the door, and when I tried to follow, she glared over her shoulder.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” she said.

And she was gone.

Chapter 45: Life Is Never Fair

Raimie

 

How could Ren do this? It made no logical sense for her to say she loved me and then, walk away. She’d said those three, beautiful words, the ones I’d never known I needed to hear. She loved me, and I could do NOTHING about it.

Because much as it hurt to admit, Ren was right. I needed Kaedesa.

Flopping sideways, I curled into a ball, distantly aware of Nylion clutching my head to him. An overbearing voice in my head was screaming denial. I didn’t need Kaedesa. I needed nothing. Not Tiro, not my family, not the army. Nothing.

Skills imparted through years of lessons and training had forged Nylion and I into a self-sufficient being. We could hunt and gather, had learned how to build makeshift shelters, and knew how to locate water sources, and companionship had never been an issue. So long as one of us lived, the other would exist, a friendly presence overlaying every thought.

If Nylion’s companionship wasn’t enough—which I had to be honest, it would be—I knew I could persuade Ren to come with me into the wilds if she gave me a chance. We could have a quiet life together, avoid Kiraak patrols, build a home to defend. 

So, why hadn’t I run yet? What the hell had so thoroughly ensnared me and Nylion here?

“We need Kaedesa,” my other half said with his voice breaking.

Denial rose again. We didn’t need her. Marcuset would gladly welcome her troops, and Eledis would love to have the backing of Ada’ir’s court, but even those two didn’t need her.

Who did? The Audish people? Why should I care what happened to them? I felt for them, truly, but they weren’t my people, not yet at least. They weren’t the chain that was tethering me in place.

“No,” Nylion said. “They aren’t.”

My muscles went loose, and with a lengthy hiss, the ball of flesh that was me unfurled. The soldiers, mercenaries, and gullible farm boys who’d followed me across the sea. They were my cage.

“Our family,” Nylion said in correction.

“I know.”

Those people had trusted that a naïve boy could lead them to victory, all based on a foretelling that had backed him, and I’d brought them to a hostile land, fraught with danger and death. They were my responsibility. I needed to provide them with a refuge, and to do that, I needed more resources. So, in essence, they needed Kaedesa, and for their sakes, so did I.

Which meant that for the sake of those I called family, I must close my heart to the one I’d come to love and turn it to another.

Instead, I reached for the one who’d always been there, desperately seeking a sense of comfort, much as I had as a little boy. What rose to greet me from Nylion, however, was a pang that echoed my own distress, and I was unbearably grateful that our bond had been weakened. Bouncing grief from me to Nylion and back again, multiplying its strength with each pass, would culminate in me doing something incredibly rash. It had happened before.

“I am sorry, heart of my heart. Truly, I am,” Nylion said. “I wish I could give you what you need, but… I liked her too.”

“It’s…”

I couldn’t finish that thought. Hopefully, Nylion could feel how much I didn’t blame him for what he was feeling. How could I expect him to shut down his emotions when I’d never come close to doing the same?

So, what else could I do to relieve this furious energy, the pressure threatening to burst me into chunks? I needed another solution.

I needed to hit something. Maybe Tiro’s training yard was open, despite the late hour.

When I reached the front door to Tanwadur’s house, I slammed it open with more force than I’d intended, storming down the street that would lead me to the training yard.

“Raimie!” someone called behind me.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I slowed down to let her catch up.

“Have you thought about what I proposed?” Kaedesa asked, out of breath.

“Yes,” was all I said.

“And?”

That question brought me to a halt, although Kaedesa strode forward for a few more feet before noticing.

“Yes,” I hissed through my teeth. “I’ll marry you, but don’t expect me to help with the arrangements, Auntie. I’m much too busy planning a war.”

“Auntie?” Kaedesa said, wrinkling her nose. “What-? Why does that sound so familiar?”

But I was already out of sight.

The training yard’s master looked surprised to see me.

“How may I help you, Your Majesty?” he asked.

I’d gone distant, far from the world and myself. Still, I knew what I needed.

Glancing over what was available here, I said, “Looking to hit something.”

“Sure, that’s what this place is for. We don’t allow outside weapons into the yard, though, Your Majesty. Only blunted blades and the like,” the master said, flicking his eyes up and down my frame.

“I know how a training yard works,” I said.

As I unbuckled Silverblade, removing several other weapons as I did, I frowned.

“You don’t happen to stock staves here, do you?”

“Of course. We wouldn’t be much of a training yard if we didn’t supply even the poorest of weapons,” the master said, even as he juggled my recently freed blades. “But even with you unarmed, there’s still the matter of the… um. The…”

When he coughed, I sharply glanced at the man. When had that rumor become fact in Tiro?

“Primeancy? I didn’t plan on using it,” I said. “I need to hit something, not destroy it, but if it will make you happy, I can make a vow to shun all primal energy while here.”

“No, no!”

The man shook his head so vigorously that I was worried the pistol at the pinnacle of my weapons might go off.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said. “Staves are in the far-left corner.”

“Thank you, good sir.”

When I bowed to him, the yard’s master flinched, and I inwardly groaned as I turned away. Seemed I still hadn’t mastered the acting kingly bit yet.

This training yard had a surprisingly extensive weapons collection: swords of all types, shields, bows and arrows, pikes, and lances. As the place’s master had indicated, the staves stood in the furthest corner. It was the spindliest and sparsest of the assorted weapons with only a handful here, and of those, most were poorly weighted and shoddily crafted.

They’d do.

I rubbed a thumb against one, relishing the feel of the wood’s grain beneath my finger, before making a face. I missed Rhylix. He was an excellent sparring partner, always adjusting his skill level to match his opponent’s. With my friend’s new façade in place, would he and I get to spar like we once had?

Either way, he wasn’t here now, which was disappointing because I didn’t think I’d find another decent challenger in this sparsely populated yard. That was what I wanted: a fight with an evenly matched opponent, but if I couldn’t have that, I’d take what was available.

When a hand landed on my shoulder, I jumped. How had someone snuck up on me…?

Well. Given my distracted state, that question seemed a bit silly once I thought about it.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Eledis said beside me, swaying in place much like Kylorian had been earlier. “I heard that Kaedesa made you a tempting offer, and I’ve come here, hoping I can convince you to reject it.”

Was Eledis drunk?

“Well, you’re too late,” I said. “I’ve already accepted her proposal.”

Pulling a staff out of its barrel, I winced. The ends of this one might be smoothly polished, but the wood in the center was still rough. If I used it, I’d get splinters in no time, so it was quickly returned to its place.

“Raimie, marrying Kaedesa is a supremely bad idea,” Eledis said. “I know some things about her that you probably don’t, things that might change your mind about her proposal. Come with me, and let’s discuss them.”

Sighing, I rounded on the old man with my hands on my hips.

“Thank you, but I’m pretty sure I know the relevant facts, Eledis,” I said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to blow off some steam.”

Eledis’ face bloomed red.

“Insolent child. I’ve given you everything, and you spit my generosity back in my face,” he said. “Well, don’t come crying to me when you learn the great queen of Ada’ir’s many secrets.”

Spinning in place, he stalked off, leaving me boiling over inside. When had that old man ever sacrificed anything for his family?

Eledis had known about the bruises that I’d hidden beneath my clothing, passively watched when Daira’s citizens had beaten me bloody because of my primeancy. He’d forced me to participate in the violent quelling of a rebellion when I was six-years-old. He’d been an accomplice in Nylion’s banishment and the fracturing of my memories. Even after we’d moved into the forest, Eledis had only ever stayed in his damned cottage, emerging solely for forays to Fissid where he’d drunk the night away. How often had he screamed at my father when he’d thought I wasn’t listening?

By the time these indignities had finished passing through my mind, I’d already crossed the distance opening between me and him with Nylion at my side, and look! Daevetch was coating my hands.

“Eledis!” I shouted.

The old man turned, and I packed my body’s weight into my swing, connecting my fist with his cheekbone. Eledis stumbled backward, crashing through the supports of several training dummies before colliding with a fence. As its wood splintered, that loud crack drew the attention of everyone present, and on seeing the destruction unleashed among them, most sidled toward the training yard’s exit.

Having nearly fallen from the force of my punch, I righted myself, rubbing my hand, and when my grandfather peeled himself off of the fence, I threw a Daevetch bolt within inches of that white-clouded head. Eledis whipped around to look at the new break.

“A small gift from me,” I shouted.

With a jerking turn, I headed for the training yard’s exit with Nylion beside me.

“You meant that to be from me, yes?” he said.

Of course I did, I said, but I couldn’t say that, not without tipping him off to the fact that you’re back. I know our father might talk but…

“Best to keep things quiet for now,” Nylion said. “Thank you, heart of my heart.”

Sure.

Stopping for a moment, I pretended to look over what I’d done to this place, but I ended my inspection on Nylion.

I don’t know what to think of many things when it comes to us, including all that you’ve recently confessed, I said, but I do know I would do anything for you. Never doubt that.

With a small smile, Nylion said, “I never will.”

Setting off again, I quickly reached a shocked training yard master.

“I know. I said I wouldn’t use primeancy,” I said, “but trust me when I say that this was warranted. Even still. I’ll make sure you’re recompensed.”

The dazed man nodded, and as I left, I whistled to myself, a happy tune that was incredibly off-key, but honestly? I didn’t care about that. All I could consider was how funny it was that a single, well-deserved punch could lighten one’s mood.

Chapter 46: Shift in Perspective

Ryvolim

 

Raimie had left for Tiro without me. My friend had promised to stay out of trouble for one day while I fought against an energy drain’s pull, and the kid had run off, sans protection, through one of the most well-traveled regions of Doldimar’s domain, without me.

Well, Raimie didn’t need to worry about that danger anymore. I was going to kill the bastard once I’d caught up.

I refused to admit that I was exaggerating my anger at my friend to keep other, less easily manipulated emotions at bay.

Don’t you get sick of it? All the hatred, I mean.

What’s happened in the past does NOT define the future.

No. Anger moved me forward. Anger had pieced my mask together, pasting it to my face. Anger made my flight down enemy-infested roads swift.

Guilt. Grief. Regret. I had no time for these emotions or any others. Not right now.

Raimie had a two-day head start on me. Recovering from a weeks-long grip on a human form had taken longer than I’d anticipated, which had left me confused. Usually, the force that kept me in perfect health didn’t let me experience any form of exhaustion for long.

Given this, my gratitude to Oswin knew no bounds, for the moment at least. He’d kept me hidden and fed for the two days I’d been out of commission. Oswin had also been the one to tell me that Raimie had left the Birthing Grounds. He’d seemed pleased by my immediate decision to go after my friend, even though my recovery had been far from complete, and for once, I found that I couldn’t blame someone else for their manipulation of me. Oswin’s charge had abandoned him again, and he didn’t have the ability to follow Raimie as quickly as I could. If our roles had been reversed, I’d have tried the same trick on the spy.

It was funny how one human’s exploitation of me felt acceptable but my friend’s broken promise prompted nothing but outrage.

When I arrived outside of Tiro, that anger was the only thing that propelled me into the city, keeping my exhaustion at bay.

“Where is he?” I snapped.

Wincing, Creation said, “The training yard with Eledis. Careful, Eriadren. Something’s broken within him since you two last spoke.”

“More than it already was?” I said, mostly to myself.

“Mm,” was all Creation hummed in response.

As I stormed toward the training grounds, I forcibly parted a stream of people, all retreating to their homes for the evening, but soon enough, I spotted a familiar mop of drab hair bobbing amongst relative strangers.

“There you are!” I said when I met my friend.

With a tired smile, Raimie said, “Hey, Rhy. I’m glad you’re here.”

Damn, Creation had been right. I’d never heard my friend sound so dead before.

Even still, I grabbed Raimie’s shoulders, flipping him around. Placing a hand between his shoulder blades, I pushed him back the way he’d come.

“What are you doing?” Raimie said. “Rhy! I need to sleep.”

“So do I!” I snapped.

Probably more than he did too.

When we reached the training yard, I brushed myself and Raimie past its startled master, coming to a stop in its wide, open space. It was empty, abandoned for the night save for the yard master who’d been closing shop when we’d arrived, but this was good. It meant I wouldn’t have to hold back.

Drawing my sword, I said, “Time for a lesson.”

“What-?”

I didn’t let Raimie finish his question. When I lunged, my friend was lucky enough to lean away from the swipe before it cleaved him in two. Silverblade was out of its scabbard, and we descended into a frantic fight, and for me, it was fueled by a wealth of bitter emotions, sunk below the surface. All of them safely hidden until a trigger had brought them to the forefront.

Anger pushed me a step beyond the normal limits I set in place when fighting my friend, but surprisingly, Raimie kept up with me. I read the intensity of his own emotional state in how recklessly he abandoned his safety, willfully overreaching at time. His fighting style begged for me to smash through his defenses and strike him down, which…

Why was that?

For a moment, I reined in my fury, wondering whether Raimie’s lack of self-preservation was what had let him match my speed. Then, I saw Ele’s light dancing across his skin.

Drawing upon my own supply of that energy, I became a blur. With his magically enhanced speed, Raimie could almost match me, but he had neither the experience needed to fully do so nor the edge that I enjoyed as Ele’s Champion. Raimie’s Ele source was separate from him, in his splinter, whereas mine resided within.

I ducked Silverblade’s slow motion thrust for my neck before knocking the sword out of my friend’s hand. Reaching for the Ele in the stone behind Raimie, I attracted it to what resided in my friend, and he zipped backward, as if on a line attached to his back. He slammed into the wall, but despite his frenzied efforts to break free, he couldn’t disrupt the hold that Ele had on him.

Once he recognized this, Raimie stopped trying to escape, and I dashed across the space between us, drawing uncomfortably close to my friend.

“You cannot leave me behind like that,” I hissed in his face. “Doldimar is at least as powerful as me, and you’re my ally. He’ll take any opportunity to destroy you. You agreed to help me with my quest, so when I tell you I’ll be out of commission for a day, you stay put until I can protect you again. Do you understand?”

After a split second of blank-eyed inattention, Raimie glanced to either side, craning his neck to see what was restraining him.

“How are you doing this?” he said. “It’s like what I used back in…”

As he fell silent, I snapped, “Raimie! Do. you. understand?”

“Yes,” Raimie said with an eye roll. “I’m sorry I left the Birthing Grounds without you. I’ll try not to do something similar in the future. Now, will you please let me go?”

His blasé attitude was less than reassuring, but I couldn’t keep my friend pinned to a wall until he understood the danger he was in. That might take hours. So, I returned the Ele within the stone to its natural state, and slumping at the sudden release of pressure, Raimie rubbed his shoulder with a wince.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” he said. “When coming back here, I was moving too quickly through enemy territory for anyone to touch me.”

“Except for an Enforcer, who could shade meld in front of you, toss Daevetch into your path, or snare you in a Vice,” I said.

I jabbed at an open cut on Raimie’s neck, making him grimace.

“When you’re nearby, they can sense you just as much you can with them,” I continued. “Plus, every time you’ve left without me in the past, I’ve had to rescue you from some incredibly dangerous situation. I swear. I stop tracking your every move for even a single moment, and you nearly get yourself killed.”

Again, there was a split-second hesitation before Raimie crossed his arms. That was… interesting.

“Whoa, Rhy! What an invasion of privacy! I thought we talked about you using our splinters to keep tabs on me last fall,” he said, “but I do see your point. I won’t leave you behind again, not without telling you first at least.”

“Thank you,” I said, slapping my hands to my thighs.

Stepping closer, Raimie surreptitiously looked around the empty training yard before leaning toward me.

“You know I can protect myself, right?” he whispered.

Snorting, I said, “To a certain extent, maybe.”

“If you don’t think I can, maybe you should return to the role of tutor,” Raimie said, spreading his arms wide. “Given that fight, I’d say you’ve been holding out on me.”

Tapping my lips, I said, “I have been neglecting that duty, haven’t I?”

With mischief dancing in his eyes, Raimie grinned at me.

“That would be… a yes,” he said.

“Oh, hush,” I said, shaking my head. 

Thank the gods Raimie was taking my attitude and behavior in stride. From the moment I’d left the Birthing Grounds, I’d known I was overreacting to the news that my friend had left me behind, but still, I couldn’t calm myself down from that frenzied point, or I couldn’t until now.

Hoping to brush it under the rug, I said, “We should let the yard master finish closing shop for the evening, yes? I’ve let my need to make a point delay him for long enough.”

Seemingly having forgotten the man was here, Raimie sharply glanced at him, where he was perching on a fence.

Rushing to clasp the other man’s hands, he said, “I forgot how late it is. Please, forgive us for keeping you, sir.”

Prying a hand out of Raimie’s grip, the yard master tapped my friend’s shoulder.

“That’s all right, Your Majesty. Watching the two of you fight was a pleasure, and if I may say so—”

Cupping his mouth, he lowered his voice.

“—I’d avoid making your friend angry in the future. He almost cleaned the floor with you, and he was holding back.”

Laughing, Raimie said, “Oh, I know. He does that, has from the moment we met. I’d be insulted if I wasn’t terrified to face him at his strongest. I’ve never seen anyone with so many tricks for a fight, not even when I was a kid in Dai-”

As he cut off, his face went red while his eyes widened.

“If you’ll excuse me, sir.”

Despite his seeming haste, Raimie dragged his feet while he took his leave, and he paused outside of the fence.

“Come see me later, Rhy!” he shouted, almost as an afterthought. “I have a favor to ask.”

Right. Like Raimie hadn’t been looking for a way to spring that request on me since we’d met in the street. Unless the situation was truly dire, the kid had almost always refused to take help from anyone, preferring to handle his problems on his own. The fact that he was asking for help now was concerning.

Still, Raimie should know by now that he didn’t need to ask a favor from me. I’d do whatever I could to ease his troubles without expecting anything in return.

"Can't ask now?" I said.

"It’s of a sensitive nature,” Raimie said.

He darted his eyes to the yard master, who was watching our exchange with interest.

“Plus, I thought you’d want to see your sister as soon as possible, given… what happened at the Birthing Grounds.”

Raimie’s face twisted at the mention of Ren, much like my spirit did at the reminder of what had happened to Hadrion.

“Right,” I said with a dry mouth.

As Raimie left without another word, I reached for anger to smother the unpleasantness threatening to take me over again, but that fiery emotion had dissipated after my confrontation with my friend. Instead, Hadrion grinned at me in my mind’s eye, pleased to have learned the new fighting technique I’d been teaching him, and I winced.

Gods, how I wished I could return to the familiar, bored state that I’d floated in for the last dozen cycles. Why had I thought welcoming emotions back would be a good idea, and where was a distraction when I needed one? I knew from experience that not much could keep this pain at bay, although…

I fumbled for the peace and stillness ever found at the center of my being, a quiet that a thin barrier blocked, and when I touched it, a wave of calm worked its magic on the distress eating me. Releasing the breath I’d been holding, I hastily strode forth to find a place to sleep or maybe… maybe Ren.

“Master primeancer, sir?” the yard master said behind me, freezing me solid. “I- I hate to mention this, but… you’re glowing. You, um. You might want to dim that a bit if you want to stay hidden.”

Oh… shit. Had I just ruined my disguise as ‘Ryvolim’ in my haste to escape from something I should, frankly, have been facing head on?

The yard master must have seen something on my face because he raised his hands in front of him.

“Don’t concern yourself with me! I know how important it is to keep your secret.”

Lowering his eyes, he looked away.

“I had a little brother… He…”

It took him a moment to continue, swallowing a few times before he could.

“Anyway, he wasn’t so good at concealing what he was. The Enforcers came for him when he was nine. He put up a good fight, but-”

The yard master shrugged, but I was a little too busy with the meaning of what he’d said to fully notice his discomfort.

“Are you telling me that Ele primeancers are walking in Auden again?” I asked.

Seemingly taken aback, the yard master said, “Well, sure. Both varieties crop up all the time, probably more than we know. The poor things must learn how to hide their primeancy quickly, though. Otherwise, they’re recruited or murdered by an Enforcer, depending on their affinity.”

Maybe that could explain why the only physical danger I’d faced after revealing myself as ‘Rhylix’ had come from Raimie’s soldiers. The people of Tiro certainly hadn’t been happy to learn that I was a primeancer, but they’d never made a move to attack me, like the soldiers had.

Still. What the yard master had said…

Cold inside, I rounded on Creation, who was browsing through a stack of practice pikes with their shoulders drawn together.

Keeping my voice carefully blank, I said, “Is there anything you want to tell me? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how… sluggish Ele has been with me in recent days. I thought it might have something to do with the ‘shifts in the Eternal War’ that you’ve been on-and-off mentioning. But if there are new primeancers on the physical plane, then…”

Then, I wasn’t sure why Ele had been so slow to respond since I'd reached Auden.

“What’s going on, Creation?” I said. “Stop avoiding whatever it is, and just tell me.”

Hunched on themselves, Creation glanced up at me before fixing their eyes on the weapons in front of them again, biting their lip, but after enduring my glare for quite a while, they opened their mouth.

“My whole is losing the war, meaning resources are scarce,” they hesitantly said. “So scarce, in fact, that for the last few months, we’ve been abandoning the front on the physical plane.”

That… was… not what I’d expected Creation to say. 

Nervously laughing, the splinter quietly said, “First time I’ve shocked you speechless, huh?”

They weren’t wrong. I had to shake my whole body to get my thoughts into working order again.

“Ok. That might explain why Ele has been taking its time with healing my injuries and the like,” I said, hardly believing what was coming out of my mouth. “If this is so, then how can Ele spare splinters for new primeancers on this plane?”

As Creation’s lips pulled into a thin line, I knew they were about to wall me off again, and given what they’d admitted, that possibility froze my heart over. 

“Why are you keeping secrets from me?” I said. “I need to know about these things. What if this thing you’re hiding stops me from getting to Doldimar or anything else I’m supposed to be doing here? I- I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me, even if it’s come with a healthy dose of complaining and sarcasm. Don’t I deserve the truth?”

Creation took a deep breath, held it, and released it in a rush.

“I can’t,” was all they said.

I had to keep calm. I had to.

“Because your whole says so or…?” I said.

“Because I’m trying to keep you safe,” Creation bellowed, finally facing me. “You have no idea what I’ve shielded from you. What the whole wants to do with you.”

As they shuddered, I bristled so hard that I thought Creation might be able to feel it, even as far away as they were.

“Maybe if you told me about these things, I could HELP!” I shouted.

And we were left glaring at one another. Vaguely, I was aware of the yard master’s quiet lock-up and departure, which was probably for the best. This conversation had quickly barreled into dangerous territory, and if it unraveled further, I didn’t want anyone caught in the crossfire.

Setting their jaw, Creation said, “Try to draw from me.”

“…What?” I said. “Why would I-? You’re not my source.”

“I know that. I’m not an idiot,” Creation said, crossing their arms, “but you’re our Champion. You can draw from any piece of any aspect. Taking from yourself is easier, or at least, it must be so. Otherwise, you’d have sought an alternative like this ages ago.”

“…All right.”

Creation’s logic seemed sound, but I couldn’t help my surprise when I reached toward them and found a point of peace, much like the one in me, within them.

“Huh.”

When I teased an Ele tendril from Creation, a wondering smile started spreading across my face. How had I never figured this out before? Considering how badly I’d always wanted to right the disbalance between Ele and Daevetch, perhaps I should have figured out how they mechanically worked before-

The flow of Ele from Creation shut off. Startled, I lost control of the thread I’d been holding, and it zipped off, tipping over a barrel of staves. Had Ele… cut me off?

“What. the. godsdamned. hell?” I said, barely aware of speaking through the haze around me.

Creation was suddenly beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder, and no matter how impossible it was, I swore I could feel pressure there.

“My whole is retreating from the physical plane, but you must remember, Eriadren, that we’re an eternal force of nature. Our retreat may take eons,” they said. “It must start somewhere, though, and most of my whole has decided it will begin with you. I tried so hard to argue against it, but… I’m sorry.”

With… me? After everything I’d sacrificed for Ele. Was Creation serious? 

One look at their face said that they were, and there, anger was again, bright and crystalline in its purity. I spun away from the splinter, so great was fury’s stranglehold on me.

“Thank you, Creation. You’ve given me the perfect escape from something truly horrible, but you might want to leave now,” I said. “I appreciate that you’ve fought for me, but even the faintest glimmer of Ele might tip me over at the moment, and we don’t want to have an out-of-control Champion again, do we?”

I faced the splinter with a peeled-back smile and bared teeth, but Creation had already popped out of view. They knew me well.

What should I do now? Find Ren, like Raimie had suggested?

The laughter filling the air sounded almost crazed, and when it cut off after I clamped my lips together, I realized it had been mine. Probably not wise to visit my grieving sister when I was like this.

I could find the nearest Kiraak encampment and wipe them out, but… Raimie could cleanse Corruption from those pitiful beings now. Even if it remained to be seen whether returning a Kiraak’s humanity to them was a blessing or a curse, I couldn’t slaughter monsters who had the potential for freedom from Daevetch.

The request Raimie had made not long ago would require my attention at some point. He’d probably meant for me to find him in the morning, but I needed something to occupy my time now, and my only other option for that was to try sleeping. I knew how doing something like that would end: in a night spent raging at Ele and the life it had captured me in. I didn’t want that, not again.

No, I’d go see my friend.

With my mind made up, I cast off every leftover Ele speck that was clinging to me and left the training yard.

Chapter 47: I Love You But...

Raimie

 

I was getting extremely annoyed by how long it was taking to find my father. I’d expected it might take a while but close to an hour? After so many reliable years, were my tracking skills finally failing me? This wouldn’t bother me so much if I were in an unfamiliar setting or if it were completely dark, but neither of those things were happening right now and-

Clearly visible and walking at my side, Nylion huffed.

“Remember, heart of my heart, he was once a spymaster,” he said.

And the tracking skills I’d relied on for my whole life, skills I’d thought I’d learned while hunting in the forest, were in reality, part of the Hand training that I’d gone through as my father’s successor. 

Wincing, I stopped short, passing a hand over my face. So many things that I’d always taken for granted as fact kept getting dislodged by my new truth, and it was… bothering me.

I actually didn’t know how I felt about the situation. A ‘bother’ was simply the best word I’d come up with to describe the sensation.

“It will get easier,” Nylion said.

I skeptically glanced at him.

Will it? I asked.

He made a face.

“I think so. I hope so,” he said. “I knew that this change would be hard for you to swallow. You are handling it much better than I thought you might, but I can feel how difficult it has been. My only wish is that somehow, my presence has been helping you with it.”

You’ve more than helped, Nyl, I said. It’s strange, you know? At first, it was all anger and outrage at what they did. Now, it’s so much STUFF that I don’t know how to handle. I don’t even know what most of it is.

“So… it is complicated.”

I huffed a laugh.

I’m beginning to think that everything about us will be complicated.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to open my eyes and move on. I had to find my father. I needed to speak with him one more time tonight. I needed to know why.

He’d said everything he’d done had been for my own good. My protection. I didn’t understand why he thought that, and it… bothered me. I needed him to explain one more time. Maybe if he did, I could figure out what he’d been thinking at the time. Maybe he’d give me an excuse I could use to- to forgive him.

As soon as that thought had crossed my mind, I hid it somewhere far away, in a rarely touched corner of my mind. I wasn’t sure why I was doing that, but it had something to do with Nylion. I wasn’t sure how accepting he’d be of that desire.

I was glad Oswin wasn’t here to watch me fumbling through the task of finding my father, not to mention any emotional reactions I might have in our coming conversation. He wouldn’t say a word about my failings in the moment, but they were sure to come up later, in the form of a snarky comment.

Oswin…

He’d been the spymaster of Kaedesa’s Hand instead of me. Did that mean we’d known each other back then? Is that why I’d always had such a strong sense of recognition when around him?

Did that mean he’d been hiding my past from me, along with everyone else I’d once trusted?

Watching me with worry, Nylion said, “What are you thinking about?”

My mouth twisted.

Oswin, I said. I'm wondering what, if anything, he had to do with this. And whether anyone else in the Hand was involved.

That comment made Nylion’s eyebrows shoot up into his scruffy hairline.

“You do not remember him yet?” he said.

When I shook my head, he frowned.

“I am sure it will come to you eventually, much like the rest has been,” he said. “Until then, I would not make assumptions about him or the others yet. From what I remember, they have always been our allies, but it is unclear whether any of my memories were locked in that chest alongside yours. So far, that has not been the case, but we cannot be sure. Just… take it as it comes. Operate on what you know of him.”

And that? That was why I was glad Nylion had been hanging around as much as he had since we’d unlocked the chest in our mindspace. He’d been keeping me grounded in my current reality, in more ways than one, and I was so damn grateful for that.

It had been so easy to get stuck in the past and the memories I’d lost of it.

“There!” Nylion said, pointing toward the edge of the dwindling crowd we’d joined.

At the corner of an intersection, a familiar head of hair briefly paused before vanishing around it, and I sped up. When I turned onto the smaller street, I found no one walking down it, and this momentarily confused me. Then, I noted a patch of scuffed dirt at the base of one of the nearby walls and rolled my eyes.

I stood in that spot, jumping to grab the eave of the roof above, and pulled myself on top of it. Once on my feet, I scanned my sightlines, quickly spotting the same head of hair I’d spied earlier. I took off after it.

He led me on a lengthy chase, which only made me more annoyed with every extra footfall he made me take. Eventually, I stopped short and let my exasperation ring out over the rooftops.

“Stop! Come on, dad. You can’t avoid this conversation forever! What are you going to do? Never speak to me again?”

That made him pause. Even with a rooftop between us, I could see my father’s shoulders slump as he put his hands on his hips. He shook his head once before turning to me and gesturing toward the street below.

I followed his lead, but on clambering down to the ground, something strange passed over me. Sure, I may need to have this conversation, but at the same time, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to take the chance that my father might hurt me again. 

Because oh, how it had hurt to have the first part of this conversation earlier! Hearing the proof that what I’d remembered was real, coming from my father’s own mouth, had sunk a jagged knife into the heart of me. I was still figuring out how deep it had gone.

Still, I had to do this. For Nylion’s sake, if for nothing else.

I found my father leaning against a wall with his arms crossed and one foot propped up behind him. He wouldn’t look at me as I approached.

When I was close enough, he said, “What else is there to say besides what’s already been spoken?”

I wanted to shout at him for that. 

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I think there’s plenty we still need to say. I don’t understand why you did what you did. I need you to explain it to me so I can try to move on.”

Startled, my father glanced at me before flicking his eyes away again.

“Move on?” he said.

I rolled my eyes.

“What? Do you want me to stay mad at you for forever?”

At my side, Nylion was staring at me almost as hard as my father had, for that brief moment he’d graced me with his gaze. I hoped he could trust me to do what was best for us right now. Yes, we needed justice for what had happened to us, for the soul desolation we’d gone through, but I wasn’t sure who deserved what punishment and how far that punishment should go.

“No,” his father said. “No, I don’t want that.”

He hung his head in silence for several uncomfortable moments.

“You want to know why we took Nylion away?” he eventually told the ground. “Because he had started getting out of control. He was influencing your behavior in completely unacceptable ways, and we… couldn’t have that.”

Almost beneath my notice, my fingers curled into my hands, biting into my palms.

“So, your solution to the problem was to lock him away?” I said. “Did any of you think to maybe, I don’t know, talk to him?”

“We tried! Marcuset was the only one he’d speak to, and even that communication was sparse,” my father said. “But you don’t understand, Raimie. This wasn’t a minor issue. Sometimes, when he was the one maneuvering your body, he would become unexpectedly violent-”

Throwing my hands to either side, I snapped, “What did you expect would happen after throwing him into training for the Hand? He used to cry for hours after we finished with that for the day. What human wouldn't lash out in a such situation?”

Granted, Nylion's initial reaction to our training had only lasted for the first year. After that, he’d become more cold. Analytical. Precise. But neither of us had wanted to learn how to fight, him more so than me. Any form of violence had made everything within us rebel, and when we were the ones dealing the violence…

The thought of it had me shuddering, even now.

Blinking rapidly, my father met my eyes.

“I… didn’t know about that,” he said.

I waved his concession away.

“How could you? You were away for your job more often than not.”

Making a face, my father said, “And that, I am sorry for. I tried to make up for my absence once we moved away from Daira.”

He truly had. Now that I understood what it was like to have him gone most of the time, I could appreciate how attentive of a father I’d had during our nine years of peace in the woods.

“It’s fine,” I said. “Nylion was there for me.”

Like a shutter, my father’s face closed down.

“I thought I was doing the right thing by taking him away, son,” he said. “I still think it was the best we could do. There’s so much you don’t know about that time…”

He trailed off, and it took me a moment to realize that I’d caused that. It took me a moment to realize that pure venom had taken residence on my face, enough of it to shut him up.

It was probably for the best. If he’d continued spouting justifications for the harm he’d caused me, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stay… rational.

As it was, I was barely holding onto said rationality. I took a few deep breaths before cutting my hand in front of me.

“Let’s forget about your reasoning for now. It’s getting us nowhere,” I said. “Can we focus on the present? On how what you did has affected me? Because it has done that, dad. Whether it was right or not, it hurt me, more than you can know, and I need you to hear me about that. I need you to understand.”

“I… can do that,” my father said.

Meanwhile, Nylion turned to fully face me.

“You’re letting it go?” he said. “Just like that?”

I could feel anger starting to swell from him, which made me glance at him from the corner of my eye.

Of course not, I said. But we have to start somewhere. We have to get him to see why everything he did was so harmful to us. This is the best way to achieve that goal. Once he understands, we can go back. And after we’ve destroyed every carefully laid justification he’s crafted for himself to excuse his actions, we can get what we truly want from him.

My explanation didn’t seem to mollify Nylion as much as I thought it might, but he jerked his head once in a nod. It would have to do for now.

“So, let's discuss the results of your actions. Regardless of your intentions at the time, I feel betrayed by you, dad,” I said. “Growing up, I had this one thing, one person who was truly mine. I had a state of being that I considered sacred, and you took it away from me. In some ways, I feel like I made it happen because I trusted you when you led me into that circle, dad. Maybe that makes me the fool, getting blindsided by a loved one like that.”

“Heart of my heart, I never-”

“You’ve never been a fool to-”

I held up a hand to stop both of them.

“I know it’s not my fault. That’s just how it is. How I feel,” I said, “and I can’t even begin to describe the confusion and chaos I’m dealing with now. I had this life, one I thought I knew. One that made sense to me. And then, I find out that half of it is a lie? Half of it, I was someone else, doing something else entirely? I’ve got a war going on inside, dad. I don’t know what’s real anymore. How am I supposed to deal with a near entire rewrite of my history when I’m also supposed to be leading a real, honest-to-gods war?”

This part of the problem between us left my father speechless. He stared at me with his mouth hanging open, and when it became clear I wouldn’t get a response from him, I shook my head.

“But that’s not the worst of it for me,” I said. “The worst part is that you kept something from me again. Not even a piece of heritage, like our royal lineage, but some of my history. Some of my actual lived experience. You lied about half of my life for half of my life, hiding it away in the hopes that I wouldn’t, what? Remember someday? Have the fucking mind magic spell that you had placed on me broken? Gods damn it, dad! You messed with my mind. Of course I’m angry with you!”

Out of breath, I panted, watching my dad wince and open his mouth, close it and open it again. He was taking far too long with trying to figure out something to say, so long that I almost started yelling again. Before I could, though, his whole body caved in on itself.

“You’re right. By hiding what happened from you, I badly hurt you, and I’m sorry for it.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was actually getting an apology from him, if only for part of what he’d done. When I’d considered having this conversation with my father before, I’d thought I had the most remote of chances at gaining even this small of a concession, and having heard the remorse in my father’s voice, I knew he meant what he’d said.

It wasn’t enough.

“That is not nearly enough,” Nylion breathed, as if in agreement. “Does he think we would take a single, paltry apology for all the horror he put us through and what? Forgive him? Forget what happened? Forget the pain of my forced isolation, pushed down into the depths of our mind?

Did you expect something more from him? I said.

“I.. I do not…”

I half-listened as Nylion sputtered to a stop with a confused look on his face, putting most of my focus on my father.

“I accept your apology,” I said. “It changes nothing about what I’m dealing with, though.”

My father nodded.

“I didn’t think it would,” he said. “How do you propose we address those problems, though? They won’t just go away.”

I knew that. These issues, clouding up the waters all around me right now, weren’t something I could ignore, not like I apparently had with so many other things in my life.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to fix the problem. Not right now. I only had one answer for my father’s question, for the moment at least, and he wasn’t going to like it.

“We do the only thing we can,” I said. “Come on. We should find somewhere comfortable to discuss it.”

Chapter 48: A Friend's Revelation

Ryvolim

The view while balancing atop Tiro’s concealing lattice was, as always, terrifying, much too far above solid ground as it was. I refused to look down as I crossed the length of the beam that Raimie had chosen for his perch. 

Finding my friend had taken far too long. I’d checked some of his other favorite spots around the city, but this one, the one he always went to when he was truly upset, hadn’t even crossed my mind as a possible hiding place, which proved once again how off-balance I was right now.

Once I was hovering over my friend, he cracked an eye open, scrunching his face up on seeing me.

“Did you already talk to Ren?” he asked.

“Couldn’t find her,” I said. “What do you need from me?”

Which was abrupt and to the point, but I couldn't have this conversation go any other way right now.

Raising an eyebrow, Raimie said, “You’re certainly eager to help. This can’t wait until morning?”

“No. Please, just tell me what you want.”

My friend must have sensed an inkling of the mess lurking under my mask because he sat up, folding his legs under one another.

“I… need you to heal my father,” he said.

He met my gaze as if it were a challenge, but then, it was. I’d explained the reasons that I avoided using my special, little curse to him before.

“Why would you ask this of me?” I asked.

Something had to be wrong. Raimie wouldn’t challenge another person’s beliefs like this unless he thought doing so was absolutely necessary.

“I need to get him into as physically fit of a condition as I can,” he said. “He’ll need every advantage he can get.”

For a second, he flicked his gaze to the side, unfocusing while subtly waving a hand, but he quickly returned his focus to me, if with greater conviction.

“Please, Rhy,” he said.

“You know I can’t do this,” I said. “My reasoning-”

“Is tenuous at best. I’m sorry. I really am. But it is,” Raimie said. “Even if you’re right about the consequences that the people you heal face, I’ve explained the possibility to my father. He understands that something worse may come along to hurt him later, but the idea didn’t change his mind about you healing him.”

What… the hell? Raimie knew how much I didn’t like having my secrets shared.

“You told your father about what I can do?” I asked, barely keeping from shouting.

With his jaw set, Raimie said, “It was necessary.”

Closing his eyes, he clenched and unclenched his hands before looking up at me.

“You don’t need to worry, Rhy. My father won’t put you in danger,” he continued. “Once he can walk without the device from the tear, he’ll leave us, at least for a time.”

“He’s leaving?” I asked with a frown. “Why would he do that?”

“Because I asked him to!” Raimie snapped.

Puffing out a breath, he looked away, shifting uncomfortably, but I could understand that. Family was the ultimate connection, the people you protected and loved no matter what. So, why would Raimie, who sacrificed so much for the soldiers he’d adopted as his family, want his father to leave him?

“You’re going to have to explain that,” I said with an empty voice.

Grinding his teeth together, Raimie turned his focus inward, and after a solid minute of silence, he growled.

“I’m telling him, Nyl! He’s my best friend. He deserves to know.”

But I didn’t understand what he’d said. Was he talking to me or…? 

Why did this situation feel so familiar? What-?

“Nyl, where are you?” “At the moment, what Raimie would or would not want does not matter. He is not here right now.” “My name is NOT Raimie.”

And I stopped breathing. The talking to seeming no one. Referring to himself by different names. The incident outside Sanc. How he was acting now. I thought I knew what was going on, and if I was right, oh… how it would hurt my heart.

Slowly, I sank to sit on the beam in front of Raimie, no matter how terrifying I might find it.

“Nyl,” I said, licking my lips. “I’ve heard you say that word before. When we were in Da’kul.”

Cocking his head, Raimie slowly said, “You did?”

I nodded.

“Does it mean something… special to you?” I asked.

“It does,” Raimie said.

But then, he sealed his lips shut, which was understandable. Focusing on my friend and not the ground, I scooted forward until our knees were touching, leaning forward to rest my forehead on his.

“You don’t have to fear me. I am your friend, and now, you know how sacred I find that bond. You’re safe here.”

The repetition of the first time I’d gotten Raimie to tell me about something most would find unusual or dangerous slowly had tension draining from him. His shoulders lowered from his ears, and when he glanced up at me, nodding, I pulled back a bit.

“Nyl is… Nylion. My other half. The only person in my life that I would give my all for, minus dying of course,” Raimie said, “because if I died, so would he. He lives… in here.”

He tapped a finger against his temple.

“And he’s connected to why I want some space from my father, among many other things.”

When he bit his lip, drawing away, I rested my fingers on the beam in front of his knee.

“You are safe here,” I repeated. “I will never intentionally hurt you. That extends to anything that goes on in your head.”

“Ok,” Raimie said, relaxing once more. “Ok.”

We sat in silence for a moment, but soon enough, he laughed, as if to fill the quiet.

“How are you so calm about this?” he asked. “Any time I’ve talked about Nylion with anyone before, it’s always followed by… I don’t know… fear. Or hatred.”

Rejection. I knew, more than he could possibly understand.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I sheepishly smiled.

“I’ve had a lot of experience with this sort of thing. Lived for way too many years, remember?” I said. “So, this whole ‘multiple entities in one head’ thing? It’s been a common experience. Sometimes, I’ve seen it in cultures where the predominant spiritual practice encouraged belief in possession or similar phenomena. Sometimes, it’s been children who’ve been left alone for so long that their practice of imagining a friend for company continued throughout their lives. Sometimes, a person has become ‘many’ simply because they wanted to!”

I softly chuckled, remembering several past relationships with such grouped individuals. People who I might have called friends, if I’d allowed myself the luxury at the time.

“But as you might imagine, I don’t often get to spend my life in times of peace. So, most of the time, I’ve seen what you’re describing in people who’ve had to deal with certain… things when they were young. Usually, these people also experience issues like what you did in Sanc.” 

Pausing, I hoped to the gods that I wasn’t about to start an unnecessary, agonizing process in my friend, and if he answered me in the negative, I wasn’t going to push it.

Still.

“Raimie, I have to know,” I said. “Considering what you’re saying and some of the things I’ve seen while around you, do you think there may be some ‘splinter’ of memory still stuck in your brain, like we’ve talked about before?”

Snorting, Raimie started laughing uproariously, rocking back and forth so wildly that I was afraid he might fall.

“A splinter of the past? Oh, gods. Oh, gods, that’s funny,” he said. “Would that it was something so small! Fuck.”

Hell, his reaction had been unnerving, but I tried to keep any trace of that emotion off of my face. It wouldn’t be helpful right now.

Wiping at his eyes, Raimie said, “Do you remember when so long ago, you said I had a secret too, whether I knew about it or not? I think we were outside of Sev at the time. Well, it turns out you were right, more than I would have ever thought possible.”

And then, he told me everything. The long process of being reunited with Nylion again. The chest of memories they’d both struggled to unlock. And everything he’d remembered.

Once he was finished, all I could say was, “Well. That explains a lot.”

“Right?” Raimie said, leaning forward. “For how crazy it all sounds, it also makes a whole lot of godsdamned sense.”

Alouin above. My poor friend. He’d already been through so much, all before he’d met me, and here we both were, in a land primed to wreck us both. A land that his past had, in part, prepared him to thrive in. Which was so messed up.

“No wonder you want some space from your father,” I said under my breath.

“Yes,” Raimie said. “No wonder.”

After a pause, one where I tried and partially failed to collect my thoughts, I said, “And your Nylion wants this too?”

“Nyl wants…”

Narrowing his eyes, Raimie cocked his head, as if listening.

“Nyl wants retribution. For my father and everyone else who separated us to pay for what they’ve done,” he eventually said. “But right now, that can’t happen. We need Marcuset and Gistrick to maintain the army. We need Eledis around because… because he’s too powerful to alienate, at least at this stage. And I… can’t hurt my father like Nyl might wish.

“So, we—the both of us—have taken our best option right now. We give ourselves time and space to figure out how to resolve what’s happened between us and the people we’re closest to. And during that time, we remove the one person in our life that we can, the one who’d be the biggest distraction for us both.”

“Your father,” I said. 

Raimie nodded.

“He wasn’t especially pleased when I told him about this earlier tonight,” he said. “It took me a while to find him because he didn’t want to hear what I needed to say, but… after I managed to corner him and speak every word on my mind, he agreed to respect my wishes, for a time. Not sure how long ‘for a time’ is, but still, I thought that was a good sign. He’s at least willing to meet me somewhere on this issue.”

Wincing, I said, “Maybe.”

I hoped Raimie was right. I hoped Aramar had seen the damage he’d done to his son and was willing to work on repairing it. In the past, he’d seemed like the sort of person who could do that, but I was also aware of how much people didn’t want to face their mistakes.

They’d avoid and cajole and victim blame and do everything in their power to convince themselves and everyone around them that the ‘mistake’ had in fact been no mistake at all. Only time would tell what type of person Aramar would be about this.

“But that's why you’ve asked me to heal him,” I said. “He’s going out into greater Auden, and he’ll have a difficult time with surviving, considering the physical condition he’s currently in.”

“Like I said before,” Raimie said. “Does it make sense now? I’m sorry if this is too big of a favor to ask for. You can always say no, of course, but I had to at least bring it up.”

“I understand,” I said.

But could I grant this favor? Yes, my reasons for refusing to use this part of my curse might be shaky, but in the past, the possibility of accidentally causing harm to a person, further down the line, had always been too much for me.

Surprisingly, that wasn’t the case for Aramar, though. I might like the man well enough. In many ways, he’d been decent and incredibly honorable toward me and many other people, but in this case, the mistakes he’d made had been… large. He’d killed Ferin over a misunderstanding. He’d tried to force Raimie into his version of ‘normal’, suppressing an essential part of who the kid was. Something that could have been avoided if he’d actually listened to his son.

He'd hurt my friend. Badly. That was what it boiled down to. I’d always been willing to bend my value system when it came to anything that harmed my friends.

“I’ll risk the consequences,” I said. “Your father won’t walk through Auden, paralyzed if it wasn’t for a tear-gained ring.”

Slumping, Raimie said, “Thank you, Rhy. Really.”

I patted his knee.

“It’s no trouble at all,” I said. “Now. Do you have any idea of where I can find your father? I should get this done as quickly as possible.”

Get a possible source of contention as far from my friend and ally as possible.

“He mentioned something about getting drunk at Sigemond’s,” Raimie said. “He really wasn’t happy when I last saw him.”

Of course he hadn’t been. Who would be after hearing that their son didn’t want them around?

“Then, I’ll get going,” I said, clapping my knees.

Once I’d reached my feet, Raimie cleared his throat.

“One more thing,” he said. “My father knows you’re Rhylix now. So you won’t have to pretend to be someone else around him tonight.”

Hmm. That was actually… a good thing. Maybe I could resolve some of my own issues with him when we met.

“Good to know,” I said, “and Raimie? I want you to know that nothing’s changed between us, all right? I’m glad you have someone like Nylion watching out for you. Maybe he can help me with keeping you safe.”

Raimie’s mouth dropped open, and he squeaked. Chuckling, I hurried away toward a place I could climb down to the ground. Gods, I loved startling my friend like that.

Adventures of the Hand 3.1

Pointer

 

Nudging his companion, the plate-mail clad Kiraak ahead of me jerked his chin in my direction.

“Look. Another crazy one incoming,” he said. “Shall I dispatch him, or should I give you the honor?”

The monster had probably meant for that comment to stay between him and his companion, but I had perfect hearing. Save for one notable exception, I had perfect everything. It was one of the reasons that I was the best at what I did.

I couldn’t blame these Kiraak for finding me crazy. Not many people voluntarily approached the pits, and of those who did, the big and burly, crazy, or immensely stupid made up the vast majority of them. They were the ones Doldimar wanted to watch in the fights.

I, on the other hand, didn’t look imposing at all. I was slender and fragile with a constantly distant look in my eyes. How many times had I been told that I must be a scholar or otherwise learned man? No one saw me coming until my knife ended their life.

“Hello, good sirs,” I said as pleasantly as my ruined voice would allow. “I’ve been told that this is where one goes when one wants to participate in the fights. Have I come to the right place?”

My words might have painfully scraped against my throat on their way out of my mouth, but proper decorum required that I give these quasi-men at least the minimum degree of respect. They turned around and spat that respect in my face.

“Are you stupid?” one of them gasped around his laugher. “Someone like you doesn’t volunteer for the pits, not here in Elisk or in any other city.”

I would hate to waste more words right now, but the Kiraak’s assertion called for a response.

“Nevertheless, that is what I intend,” I rasped.

This set the two into a bout of seemingly uncontrollable laughter, but eventually, it began to fall still. When one of them got ahold of himself, he gestured to the hatch behind him.

“We won’t stop you from committing suicide, worm. Your death should be mildly entertaining at least,” he said. “Enjoy your last hours of life.”

When that man lifted the hatch for me, I ignored his words, jumping into the holding pens instead. I was curious about what I’d find here. In the week I’d stayed in Auden’s capital city, this was one of the few places I’d been unable to infiltrate.

A week in the seat of Doldimar’s power. That time had been enlightening.

It seemed contradictory that Elisk, the center point of a Dark Lord’s reign of chaos and terror, should be one of the most orderly cities that I’d ever visited, but such was the case. Its citizens lived anything but long, ordinary lives, yes, but even here, rules existed to shepherd people into safety. Auden was a civilization, and despite Doldimar’s insistence otherwise, every society had rules.

Rule One: Avoid Kiraak whenever possible.

At first, the reasoning behind this rule seemed simple enough. The Kiraak made up the majority of Doldimar’s army. Who wouldn’t avoid representatives of a powerful, oppressive force? On closer inspection, however, the rule’s true meaning became abundantly clear.

Kiraak were chaotically brutal. They took almost climactic pleasure from inflicting and observing suffering in anyone who wasn’t them. 

The ones with rampant vines crawling under their skin were the most powerful of their number, and over the years, they’d learned exactly what types of torture best fit their fancy, but the Kiraak to truly fear were the newly born, the ones who could almost pass for human.

These Kiraak hadn’t yet learned how to control their new, alien wants and desires, and so, they were more easily pushed into wanton slaughter, followed by wailing and other forms of self-loathing. Their morality lived alongside Corruption, and the resulting conflict led these people into doing horrible things.

This was what befell every Kiraak: Corruption's gradual smothering of their seed of conscience—what the philosophers called ‘humanity’—until only a husk remained. Until this was done, one should do everything possible to keep away from them.

Sometimes, an exceptionally strong Kiraak would retain shards of their conscience throughout their growth in power. Doldimar awarded these Kiraak, the Overseers, with day-to-day governance of his subjects, everything that his Enforcers refused to manage. They received these posts because the Dark Lord only trusted people he controlled with such powerful positions, but if weak Kiraak were allowed to oversee the average citizenry, they’d have massacred Auden’s human population ages ago. It was best to leave governing to those who were both infected with his Vice and able to manage their coerced brutality.

Which raised the second rule.

Rule Two: Obey your Overseer in all things.

Because the alternative was always worse than whatever inanely horrid task they might command. It was much better to drag bodies out of the pits than to be thrown into one instead.

But of all the unspoken rules that reigned over Elisk, one superseded all, to be followed in even the direst of circumstances.

Rule Three: Never, ever help your fellow humans when their time came.

Everyone who lived in the capital eventually attracted someone’s lethal attention, be that a newly-born Kiraak or the Dark Lord himself, and when that happened, Alouin help you because your fellow citizens wouldn’t. To try helping someone in such circumstances was to bring a death sentence upon oneself as well.

So, when a bordering district was relegated to Harvest, its neighbors purposefully ignored the sounds of combat. They became deaf to mothers screaming for their children, never recognizing the high-pitched cry that quickly cut off as the signal for a young one’s death.

Although these rules seemed harsh, they granted Elisk’s residents with a modicum of safety, more so than the rest of the realm. They also provided a precarious peace, lurking behind the haphazard destruction and disorder that the Kiraak doled out.

I’d been busy during my week in this strange city with its strange rules. During that time, I’d walked among its people with my unassuming face working its usual magic, prying the city’s secrets from honest Eliskians. I’d also observed troop movement and assessed the city’s defenses while several prominent officials had ended up dead.

In other words, I’d finished with my duty to my king and spymaster. Now, it was time for a personal task, one started by an intercepted message between Thumb and the Hand’s spymaster. One that said spymaster had warned me against doing anything about.

Middle should have made that warning an order, not that such an arbitrary thing would have stopped me. Then again, the spymaster had probably known exactly what I’d try when I’d read the news that Thumb had gotten himself captured, the idiot.

For unlike the Eliskians, I had only one rule to follow. One overriding stricture that carried through the assassinations of both the guilty and the innocent, never mind any other atrocities I’d committed over my many, many years in service to my king.

I never endangered my loved ones or abandoned them to their death.

I occupy my time on the carriage ride home with the most recent letter I’ve received from Count Erinburgh. That man’s incessant pleas for me to join his coup against the crown are starting to grate on my nerves, but decorum demands that I at least open and read the silly thing.

As I suspected, this letter is another appeal to my pathos, a long regaling of the infractions that the king has committed against the nobility, starting with his marriage to a foreigner. I understand why the count has been so heavily lobbying for my support. As the head of Ada’ir’s most powerful family—after the royals, of course—if I backed this rebellion, it would sway the uneasy balance between the rebels and loyalists. If the king lost my loyalty, it might spell the end of Ada’ir’s ruling family.

Fortunately for the king, I have no intention of abandoning said loyalty.

I found the weeks spent coming to this decision agonizing, for Count Erinburgh has raised many valid complaints. Several of the king’s newest policies could soon beggar the nobility, and I don’t appreciate the threat that such a prospect places on my family.

In the end, however, I know that these new laws will see Ada’ir to greater heights of wealth and power. I also can’t see the danger in letting the commoners stand on equal footing with the nobility, another of the count’s grievances.

While considering the letter’s contents, I’ve shredded it, and holding my hand out the window, I let the wind tug its scraps out of my grasp. As the last bit of paper catches in the breeze, the carriage pulls to a stop, and I close my eyes. Time to don the mask again.

I pay the driver well for his silence, not that I’m under any illusion about the status of my ‘secret’. I have the money to indulge in the pretense that it’s solely mine, though, so why shouldn’t I?

On stepping inside the  house, I call, “I’m home!”

Removing my coat, I store it in a closet myself—the servants were dismissed hours ago—but when no one answers my greeting, a frown pulls at my mouth.

“Madelaine?” I call. “Are you awake, my dear?”

When only silence greets me, I sigh. Yes, my predilections haven’t led to the life that my wife desired on marrying me, but she’s known about them for a long time now. I thought she’d learned to accept them, and besides that, I’ve already provided her with the one thing that she’s demanded from me: a child. I think it only proper that Madeleine have the manners to stay up until I come home or at the least, leave a message for me, as is custom. At such a late hour, I’d expect our daughter to be asleep but my wife…

I take the stairs two at a time, fully intending to make as much noise as possible while getting ready for bed. Yes, that might be selfish of me, especially given what I so recently left behind, but in this, I couldn’t help myself. Years of animosity between me and my wife have led me to this moment.

The glow of firelight from the parlor at the top of the stairs, however, has me pausing. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Madeleine fell asleep while waiting for me rather than going to bed by herself. Is it possible that she’s finally learning to love me for who I am?

“Maddy?” I whisper.

As I round the corner into the parlor, an invisible wall stops my progress inside. With my fingers twitching, I numbly stare at an image that will be forever etched into my mind.

Madeleine and Lulani, our baby girl, are lying on the floor near the fireplace, curled around one another as if asleep, but that peaceful scene is contrasted by their skin’s bleached state, the rope burns around their ankles, and the jagged wounds along their necks.

Splashed across a recent family portrait, a message in coagulated blood blazes much brighter than the flames beneath while Maddy and Luli’s happy faces mockingly gaze through it.

‘The king’s eyes are upon you.’

One time. I’d broken the rule once, and look what had happened. I’d never do it again.

Adventures of the Hand 3.2

Pointer

 

The pit’s holding pens were filthier than I’d imagined, and the smell was horrendous, a mixture of unwashed bodies, excrement, and urine left to fester for years.

The people weren’t much better, clumping into three groups.

First came those who’d broken. They wandered around the pen with broad grins: barking, screeching, staring, and otherwise doing what they could to frighten those caged with them. One approached me, gnashing her teeth, and I coldly glared at her until she scampered away, whimpering.

Then came the living corpses. These unfortunate souls had given up on life. They stood or sat where they’d last been placed and gazed at nothing, at the void that had eaten them whole. No spark of what had once made them unique now lived in their eyes.

Lastly came those who were new to the pits. Almost average looking, these people stayed close to one another, whispering. Despair haunted their faces, and occasionally, one would break away from the pack in a fit of uncontrolled sobbing.

Scanning this crowd, I didn’t find who I was looking for among them, which was unsurprising. Thumb had always insisted on a merry chase. 

If he wasn’t here, though, it was time to see if I could break into the next holding pen.

Before I could try, the pen’s mood shifted, and I noticed the black-eyed men striding among the crowd. He inspected the caged humans, searching for something, but he clearly wasn’t finding it.

As soon as I saw him, I pulled away to the edge of the room, but for once, my unassuming bearing didn’t provide its usual protection. Perhaps it was the weapons hanging from me or the fact that I wasn’t covered in filth, like the others, that drew the Enforcer my way, but whatever his reason for it, the man pointed straight at me.

“You.”

Turning on his heels, the Enforcer stomped away, and I followed after a short delay. I hadn’t particularly wanted to participate in this shit but fine. If they wanted to back me into a fight, then that was what I’d do.

I loosened my sword in its sheath, unbuckled the clasps that were holding my knives in place, and popped the tops on several poison flasks, hanging from my belt.

Beware whoever was soon to come. Your end draws near.

Easing the window to the queen’s chambers open, I cling to my precarious perch. A prolonged set of years has passed since my family was murdered, all to send a message. Something broke in me that day, and since then, I’ve killed so many people.

The rebellion against the king no longer exists. I teased out and snared each of their members until none remained. After removing what had initially caused Madeleine and Lulani’s losses, I moved on to higher value targets. Targets like King Belqarim.

For an instant, the corpse faces of every person who died by my hand float like ghosts in the glass of the window in front of me, and I flinch, nearly losing my grip on its sill. Silently, I replay the chant of my reasoning for their deaths.

I didn’t kill those people for revenge or out of some twisted need to appease madness. I did it because my victims’ continued existence threatened the well-being of Ada’ir’s people. A rebellion would have been long and bloody for all involved, and by ordering the deaths of my family, King Belqarim further incited the uprising that my girls’ murders were supposed to deflect. If I hadn’t eliminated the crown’s enemies, rumors of why my family died would have eventually led to fighting in Daira’s streets.

One final target remains before I can call the kingdom of Ada’ir free of internal threats.

When a king dies, the standard line of succession is for the oldest child to take the throne, but times are anything but normal right now. Belqarim’s queen has failed to produce an heir for him, and in such circumstances, the question of next in line becomes a bit murkier.

Right now, the most likely candidate for the position is Belqarim’s cousin, Duke Wylumin, but that irresponsible man is currently exploring the frozen wastelands to the north. No one had heard from the duke in months. Add to that the complication that not all of the royal family has perished in recent weeks, and one can see why Ada’ir’s court has been in turmoil since the king’s passing.

The problem with Belqarim’s wife, Kaedesa, as monarch is that no one can say for sure where she came from. By the time she arrived on the scene, Ada’ir’s court was desperate for Belqarim to show interest in any woman. The only reason the nobility allowed such a controversial marriage was because they were uncertain if Belqarim would ever favor another person as a marriage candidate, and the realm required an heir to the throne.

Kaedesa gained little popularity with the court when her influence over the king led to the passage of several laws meant to elevate the commoners, laws that were at the heart of the recently ruined rebellion. Her failure to produce the heir that the nobles desired has further deepened the resentment leveled against her.

Considering her lack of popularity, Kaedesa should have returned to the place of her mysterious origins after Belqarim’s death, if only to maintain the realm’s stability. Instead, she’s continued to carry out a monarch’s duties, as if the question of succession has already been answered.

This is why I’m hanging outside of her window this evening. Kaedesa can’t garner enough support to keep the crown, and when she eventually loses it, blood and death will inevitably follow.

So, I ignore the dead faces I see in the window, slipping into the queen’s chambers. My knife clears its sheath without a sound as I approach the four-poster bed that’s dominating the room.

“So, you’re the one who assassinated the king,” someone says from a dark corner. “We knew it was a noble but Duke Lysinthir? That’s unexpected.”

When someone clicks their tongue, I twist toward the sound, brandishing my knife.

“Who are you that you must hide in the shadows?” I ask.

“Oh! Apologies. I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

The voice’s owner steps into the moonlight, and at the sight of him, I can’t help but display my surprise. Finally, I’ve found someone who’s homelier than me.

“My name is Aramar, my lord duke,” the man says with a bow, “and I am the spymaster of Ada’ir’s Hand.”

At that, I snort, partially from surprise—a member of the Hand would look nothing like THIS—but mostly with contempt.

“I hate to inform you of this, but your work to date has been less than admirable,” I say.

Rubbing his neck, Aramar says, “You're assuming that anything you've done over the last few years has been objectionable. Oh! Thank you for assassinating Belqarim, by the way. With how senile the old man was getting, we were worried about what might happen to this kingdom.”

Those words grant me more comfort than I’m willing to allow. Further justifications for the king’s murder might help soothe my conscience, but they’re coming from someone I might soon have to kill.

Besides that, this man, supposedly the spymaster of Ada'ir's Hand, has just admitted to wanting his king dead. That seems a bit... unusual to me. I require further clarification.

“What do you want?” I ask. “Your intention obviously isn’t to stop me from my purpose, or you’d have killed me before making yourself known.”

“We’ll get to that,” Aramar says. “First, may I ask why you want to assassinate the queen?”

Clasping his hands behind his back, he cocks his head.

“We were certain that you'd committed your killing spree for the realm’s protection and that alone.”

Killing spree? How much does this spymaster know? I’ve been meticulous with my kills, completing them so that whoever would investigate them would chalk them up to accidents or natural causes. Did I make a mistake?

And how did this Aramar parse my purpose? If they knew about my kills, most would assume that they were random.

“That’s right,” I cautiously say. “As for the queen, my reason is the same. She doesn’t have the influence needed to stay in power, and without that, she’s a threat to the realm.”

“In that, you’re wrong,” Aramar says with a chuckle. “She already controls Ada’ir’s army. Who do you think convinced the king to appoint Marcuset as its commander years ago, rather than the other, seemingly more competent candidates?”

I didn’t know that Kaedesa holds the army’s support, but that backing will only get her so far. What will she do when the nobles stop paying the taxes that fund her soldiers’ salaries?

But why am I taking the time to talk to this man? Every minute I delay is another that a palace guard might notice the lock that I broke to get in here.

Perhaps this spymaster is intentionally delaying me. Perhaps a retinue of guards is even now approaching the queen’s chambers to take me into custody.

“Don’t-!” Aramar shouts.

But I’ve already lunged. Before I can get too far, a hand snakes around my neck, forcing a clear mask over my nose and mouth, and this hold is quickly followed by the sound of a suppressed hiss. When did someone get behind-?

The hiss must have indicated something's release into this mask because my throat starts protesting the foreign substance now flowing down it, and I cough and cough and cough and-

Warm droplets splash against the mask’s interior, and it falls off of my face in time for me to drop to the ground. I claw at my neck while my overworked lungs continue expelling filth from my body, and with clean air exacerbating the fire sweeping down my airway, blood splatters across the floor with each jerking exhalation.

When the fit stops, I lie still with only the occasional twitch moving me, too stunned to do more.

“How should we restrain him?” a new voice asks. “I didn’t bring rope with me.”

“Drapes, Oswin.”

Next comes the sound of ripping fabric as well as the feel of hands dragging me upright and silky cloth binding me to wood.

“Apologies, Duke Lysinthir, but I did try to warn you.”

Aramar sounded almost sorrowful with that, and groggily, I stir in my seat.

“What-?” I say.

But it wasn’t my voice that emerged. It belongs to a stranger. Before I can marvel at this change, a shorter coughing bout wracks my frame once more.

“Might not want to use that for a while,” says the unidentified man.

“This is Middle,” Aramar says, gesturing to the stranger. “I’m sorry for not introducing him sooner, but I wasn’t sure how cooperative you’d be with us. It appears that my caution was warranted.”

Indeed. This spymaster took me by surprise with his subordinate but once I’m free…

Flexing against my bonds, I grunt.

“Yes, I’m afraid you’re stuck here for a time. In the meantime, perhaps you’ll listen to me,” Aramar says. “If you’d waited a moment longer, I planned to explain how Kaedesa intends to corral the nobility under her thumb. Fortunately for you, you’re essential for that task.”

I snort, belatedly grateful that the noise didn’t trigger another fit.

“You’d make a worthy addition to her growing Hand,” Aramar continues. “You have a unique position: an assassin with a conscience who holds high standing among the nobility, and Kaedesa has an army, one that’s keeping the Southern Kingdoms’ hordes from invading. Their patrols also allow trade to freely flow By combining our resources, Kaedesa hopes to convince your peers that she can lead this kingdom to greatness. But a large part of her plan relies on you.”

The spymaster falls silent, giving me time to think. Could this foreign queen do the impossible? With one conversation alone—even if it was held by proxy—she’s already proven herself resourceful, logical, and far-sighted, all excellent qualities in a monarch.

Meanwhile, what do I know about Wylumin, the next in line? The king’s cousin has run off to explore the ruins of a dead civilization, neglecting his role in the one that produced him. That's not even considering all the negative qualities I observed in him over the years of our youth.

Which of these two would give Ada’ir the safety her citizens deserve?

Forget the harm that these two men have caused me. They were only responding to the threat I unwittingly became, a threat to Ada'ir. I need to fix my failure to protect her.

 Meeting Aramar’s eyes, I nod in acceptance of his unspoken proposition. Better the woman I have experience with than the man I know all too well.

“Excellent,” Aramar says, clapping his hands together. “Middle, release our new Pointer.”

While his subordinate follows his orders, Aramar crouches in front of me.

“I should tell you. Your goal aligns with Kaedesa’s almost exactly,” he says. “She too wants to provide safety for her people, but she envisions a far greater blanket of protection than one found in Ada’ir alone. She desires security for the entire world.”

Pausing, Aramar narrows his eyes.

“Tell me. What do you know about Auden?”

As the portcullis rumbled open, I prepared my mind for the coming struggles, but before I could get anywhere with that, a bolt of gloom tore past me, passing in such close proximity that it ripped my sleeve. Glaring at the Enforcer who’d thrown it, I stepped into the arena.

Having so many people’s eyes locked onto me was a strange sensation. For years, I’d worked in the shadows, more so the further I’d transitioned from a prominent duke of Ada’ir to the Pointer of Raimie’s Hand. An assassin wasn’t much good to the one they served if people took note of them while they were completing a job. Now, thousands of people were watching me, some with glee and some with newly piqued interest.

One quarter of the arena erupted into a confusing mixture of boos and cheers, emanating from the humans who’d come to watch the evening’s entertainment. This city, of all those large enough to host the fights, actively encouraged its citizens to participate in the spectacle. Doldimar thrived on chaos and corruption. If the humans who toiled under his reign wanted to add to it with their betting pools and blood lust, he wouldn’t deny them.

In another quarter of the arena, unnaturally blackened and roped skin surrounded a host of glittering eyes. The Kiraak’s appearance exacerbated their absolute silence and stillness. The view was unnerving, even to me, so I turned my back on them, facing the drop-off on the other side of the arena. I’d force my opponent into facing that unsettling sight, taking every advantage I could get.

Speaking of opponents, my first one came loping over the sand to join me on center stage. They’d sent me a slavering, gibbering husk of a man, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this fight would give me enough time to twist the valve of my conscience closed.

Someone barked, “Begin!”

On receiving that command, I didn’t bother with fighting my opponent. Instead, a throwing knife was soon protruding from the man’s eye, all before he’d had time to move.

There was a surprised pause, but then, a Conscripted soldier moved forward to drag the body toward the drop-off to toss it over, all while the crowd loudly booed.

What had they expected from me? For those forced to participate in these fights, the point of the pits was to survive for as long as possible. I wasn’t about to waste effort on a fight that I could end before it began.

My next opponent was a teenager, and this ‘battle’ proved somewhat more challenging for me. While I killed the kid, my conscience strained against the barrier containing it, but somehow, I held it in check. I could self-flagellate later. At this point, guilt would only get me killed, and I couldn’t help Thumb if I was dead.

Next came a grim-faced woman, a man who screamed and begged, and another woman who’d lost the battle for her sanity. They began to blur together, each a repetition of a previous adversary.

At some point, the crowd, restless with boredom, shifted with a wave of unease spreading through them like a plague. While I waited for my next opponent, I searched for the source of this change and landed on a slim, handsome Eselan, settling into a seat near the front.

An Eselan in Auden? I’d thought that race had been wiped out here, a target of the Dark Lord and his armies. 

If that peculiarity weren’t enough, the Kiraak around him were acting strangely. They visibly recoiled from the man, scrunching as far from him as possible, all while darting wanting glances his way. They’d given him plenty of room, enough for two, which was a marvel in this crowded arena, and if I squinted hard enough, I could almost see someone—no, something other—sitting beside the Eselan.

Before I could ponder this oddity to the extent I desired, the next fight began, and I was too caught up in killing my victims as quickly and painlessly as possible to return to the question of the Eselan in the crowd.

Right when I’d begun to think I’d never encounter a challenge, they pitted me against a woman who looked as if she might have been a soldier in the past. She successfully made two exchanges with me before the third killed her, and the crowd roared when her body hit the ground. After that, the enemies forced upon me ramped up in difficulty.

The night was growing late, and I was out of breath when the surprise came. The portcullis once more rolled up, the next poor sucker sauntered in, and my heart stopped.

What have they DONE to you, my love?

Adventures of the Hand 3.3

Pointer

 

A big man stopped opposite me, exactly as every other opponent had, and when he met my fervent gaze, recognition failed to flicker in his eyes.

“Thumb?” I said, pitching my ruined voice to carry over the crowd’s cheering.

Alouin, Thumb must have gained a lot of popularity in the days… weeks… 

How long had he been here?

“Begin,” a voice called.

Thumb sprang into action, and caught off guard, I scrambled backward. I was used to the other man letting his opponents have the first few blows, all in order to assess their ‘pattern’ of attack. Thumb and his obsessions.

“Thumb!” I said again.

For the first time this day, I drew my sword to keep Thumb’s answer from splitting my skull in half. After that, I was too busy avoiding blows to say anything else.

I switched up my method of attack and defense as much as I could. Thumb excelled at detecting an opponent’s weaknesses, and in the past, that ability had gotten my ass handed to me on multiple occasions. I flowed through the standard soldier’s thrust and block, the bobbing weave of the Southern Kingdoms, and the whirlwind of motion favored by the Zrelnach.

It wasn’t enough. Smashing through my defenses, Thumb kicked me across the arena. Where the other man’s foot had impacted, something cracked in my chest, and I rolled several times before I could scramble to my feet again.

Thumb advanced on me and…

Damnit! If things continued like this, I’d be forced to fight seriously, and a loved one would die. Again.

Not again!

“Marsuvius!” I yelled. “Come on! Remember me. Please!”

Nothing from Thumb. Shit.

“Suvi!” I screamed as loudly as I could.

Hearing that moniker, Thumb stumbled to a halt with something fluttering across his face, but I was much too obsessed with my long-ruined vocal cords to notice it in full. Falling to my knees, I raked at my neck while flecks of blood flew to cover the distance between me and the other spy.

When I collapsed to my side, I knew this fit would be bad. Each cough was coming in such close proximity to the next that they’d stopped the flow of my breathing. My lungs screamed for air, and I was vaguely aware of fleshy bits joining the blood that was escaping from me.

Would this be it? The one that killed me?

No. The fit eventually calmed down, and I was left shuddering in the sand. The arena had gone quiet with nothing to fill the air besides the occasional scrape of skin against stone.

In my moment of helplessness, Thumb could have easily ended our fight. Why hadn’t he? Was he-?

Familiar hands hauled me upright. Their grip on my shoulders was all that kept me from tumbling to the ground for the second that it took for my legs to start working again.

“‘Sin?” Thumb asked with muddled worry brimming in his eyes.

Relief saturated me from head to toe, and grabbing Thumb’s face, I dragged it to me. I tasted blood and the salt of sweat on the other man, but interwoven with those was a taste that was distinctly ‘Suvi, ‘Suvi, ‘Suvi!

Lowering one hand, I fiddled with the weapons hanging on my belt, but when Thumb started twitching beneath my other hand, I released his face, pulling away even if I stayed firmly within his embrace. Thumb placed a single finger on my cheek with one eye spasming, and I knew how much that skin-to-skin contact was costing him.

“Why are you crying, Sin?” Thumb asked.

With a crooked smile as my only answer, I shoved my poisoned knife into Thumb’s back, and the big man’s eyes went wide. He backed away, reaching for the foreign object in him, and flowing behind him, I tripped him onto his stomach—I couldn’t watch ‘Suvi’s face for what would come next—and bent to yank the knife out of Thumb’s back. The other man’s body spasmed, all while a trickle of blood spilled from the wound.

When Thumb fell still, the usual Conscripted soldiers came forward to collect the body, but I faced them with my sword drawn and one foot on either side of Thumb. 

“This one’s mine!” I snapped with a cough. “You can’t take him.”

Exchanging a dubious glance, the Conscripted soldiers reached for their weapons, ready to force the issue, but before they could take another step, a voice from the crowd filled the air.

“He can keep it.”

With every word spoken, that voice had oscillated between high and low pitches, and hearing it, I slowly looked up at the sole Eselan in the crowd.

With a manic grin, that man said, “I’m interested to see what he does with the body once decay takes hold of it, and while he’s enormously entertaining, I’ve had enough of him this evening. He’s too… efficient. I want carnage, not clean kills.”

Having received their orders, the soldiers bowed low, almost scraping the ground, and facing the Eselan, I inclined my head toward him, all while chaffing at how long this process was taking.

“Your generosity is appreciated, lord.”

Hell, how it had hurt to say something even that quietly.

Cocking his head, the Eselan… or possibly Doldimar said, “Such a rash of people showing fearlessness around me lately! I wonder, are you-?”

When he narrowed his eyes at me, a shiver rumbled over my body before I could stop it.

“No. Nobody’s stupid enough to infiltrate Elisk’s pits.”

Taking his eyes off of me, the Eselan snapped his fingers at the Conscripted soldiers.

“Get him and his new baggage out of my sight.”

Oh, thank Alouin.

As I shouldered Thumb’s body and followed the Conscripted soldiers out of the arena, the crowd didn’t dare make a peep, and once we’d passed into the holding pens, I winced. Damn but Thumb was heavy. All those muscles made for a heavy burden, but fortunately, the walk back didn’t take long. 

Once they’d locked their captives inside one of the holding pens, the Conscripted soldiers left, and I dropped Thumb onto his back. The open gash in him would have to come later. I had to counteract the poison I’d given him first.

Clearing Thumb’s mouth with one hand, I withdrew a flask from my belt with the other. I poured its contents into the cleared passage, holding Thumb’s jaw closed while stroking his neck until its paralyzed muscles moved. Then, I rolled him onto his stomach, dipped a knife into the tiny meniscus left in the flask, and gently grazed the open wound’s edges with it. One more roll and I settled in to wait.

The seconds dragged by, and soon enough, I started fidgeting. Maybe it was because a loved one was lying here rather than a target who needed to vanish sans a messy murder, but while waiting, I had to swallow bile, occasionally flinging nervous energy off of my fingers. Alouin, what if I’d actually killed Thumb?

“Come on, ‘Suvi!” I rasped.

Another handful of seconds passed, and I couldn’t take it anymore. The poison’s reagent must not have worked. The hell was I supposed to do now? I killed people, not the opposite! 

I’d have to try the only other option at my disposal, and if that didn’t work, I’d find a quiet corner to taste the contents of the flasks strapped to my belt.

“Don’t you dare leave me now,” I growled.

Straddling Thumb’s body, I prepared to bear down on his chest, but before I could, the other man gasped, coughing up a storm. I scrambled off of him in time to avoid the vomit that came out of his mouth, awkwardly rubbing Thumb’s back above his wound. Doing my best to provide comfort, I handed over my water flask, and for a solid minute, Thumb chugged at it until it was nearly empty.

“Ugh,” he grunted once he was finished.

Silence fell. It was so heavy, and I needed to fill it.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a small, detached voice. “It was the only way to get us out of the arena alive.”

Thumb merely stared off into space.

“If it helps, I fashioned an escape route for us to use once I’d found you,” I said. “We might even risk saving these people if you think we can get away with it. If you don’t want me near you once we’re free and clear, I’ll-”

Twisting around, Thumb pinned me into the dirt, roughly smothering my remorse with warm lips. I could still faintly taste vomit in ‘Suvi’s mouth, but honestly, I didn’t care. Wrapping an arm around his neck and another in his hair, I melted into him. After a moment, he broke contact, leaving me gasping.

“You’re not angry?” I asked.

“You found me,” Thumb said. “Why would I be mad?”

Leaning down, he nipped the spot on my neck that always sent shivers up my spine.

“‘Suvi!” I said with a restrained smile.

I shoved against the heavy body holding me down.

“We need to get out of here. Now.”

Sighing, Thumb sat back up.

“All right,” he said. “But once we’re out of here, we’ve got to find somewhere private, ‘Sin.”

Smirking, I said, “That we most certainly do.”

Getting to my feet, I extended a hand to Thumb.

“But for now, let’s focus on staying alive. As usual.”

Grimacing, Thumb took the offered hand, but of course he did. He knew how much I needed that form of contact right now.

“Time to get out of here,” I said.

Chapter 49: Full Extent of the Problem

Ryvolim

 

As usual, Sigemond’s tavern was noisy and packed, strongly smelling of alcohol and other types of sticky sweetness. Meandering to the bar, I raised a hand to grab the barkeep’s attention.

On noting me, Sigemond shouted, “Ah, Ryvolim! A whiskey fur yu, my friend?”

“No, thank you. Tempting, but no,” I said, chuckling. “I’m looking for Aramar. I was told he’d be here.”

“That’s right,” Sigemond said before pointing. “In corner there.”

Considering how similar it was to Raimie’s hair , the drab color atop Aramar’s head, sticking out from the crowd, should have been a blazing beacon for me. How had I missed him on first coming inside?

“Thank you, Sigemond!” I said with a quick grin.

Slicing through this thick crowd was a chore, but I did it despite my misgivings. As a result, I was out of breath by the time I reached the tavern’s far wall.

When I flopped onto the bench opposite Aramar, he was in the process of raising a froth-topped mug to his lips. He thought better of taking a sip, lowering it to the table instead.

“Rhylix,” he said.

Folding my hands on my stomach, I blandly smiled at him.

“One of the many names I go by.”

Aramar merely looked at me for quite a while, but eventually, he said.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I know what happens when an Ele primeancer restores an injury to the body. If you take on my paralysis, then-”

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

When I displayed my feral grin, Aramar flinched before turning his gaze on the crowded bar.

“Raimie told you what he wants?” he asked.

“He did.”

With his shoulder rising and falling, Aramar folded over on himself.

“I don’t want to leave him here, not with Eledis,” he said, “and I’ll never understand why he cares so much about Nylion. But if he needs space, I’ll give him space. I can always watch over him from afar.”

I had no reply for him—why would I deign to give him comfort?—and after a moment, Aramar turned to me.

“So, how do we do this?” he asked.

“All you need to do is let me touch you. I’ll do everything else,” I said. “May I have your hand?”

“You want to do this here?” Aramar hissed, glancing around the tavern. “You don’t want to go somewhere more private?”

“Here is fine.”

Aramar was taking too long. With what I’d recently learned, I was having a hard time with staying pleasant around the man. I’d thought that maybe I could resolve my own issues with him before completing this task, but on considering that, I kept seeing the pain that Raimie had shown me not long ago, all caused by his father. It made me want to hurt Aramar, which I couldn’t and more importantly, didn’t want to do, so reaching across the table, I rested my hand on the former spy and Let Go.

Something tore through my spine, an abrupt flash of agony that vanished so quickly it dazed me, and I lost all feeling below my waist.

I’d expected the paralysis. The drunkenness, however, came as a surprise, even with Raimie’s warning from earlier. With a spinning room refusing to give me the focus I needed to balance on my dead hips and legs, I toppled onto the table’s surface.

“Gods, how much have you had to drink?” I gasped.

I tried to right myself but only ended up knocking mugs to the floor. Fortunately, someone stopped my flailing, and I was dragged into a sitting position.

“Are you all right?” Aramar asked from somewhere beyond a golden haze.

“Peachy,” I groaned. “The tavern’s spinning like a top, I have little control over my thoughts, and I can’t feel my legs. Gods, I haven’t been drunk in ages, so thanks for that, at least. What about you?”

“Well, I’m standing without the help of that infernal device you once gave me,” Aramar said. “So, there’s that. I think it worked?”

“It did, which means our business is complete,” I said. “Much as I’d like to be polite and kind to you right now, all I currently have is for you to leave Tiro and stay away from Raimie, at least until he’s ready to see you again. It’ll be best for you both. Trust me.”

Aramar’s grip on my shoulder, once keeping me from falling, briefly clenched before he abruptly released me, but despite that, I managed to catch myself on the table before I could faceplant again.

Maybe Aramar imparted words of thanks before leaving, but if that was so, I didn’t hear them. The force that had plagued me throughout the cycles, the one that insisted on keeping me in perfect health, had decided to take its time with this paralysis, but given everything Creation had said earlier, I’d expected the delay.

I’d looked forward to testing my newly recovered ability to get drunk while waiting for a reticent healing wave, but apparently, I wouldn’t have to make the effort. Aramar had seen to it for me.

Floating in a drunken stupor, I occasionally tried to move my legs, laughing when they didn’t respond. I also tried to transition back into Ryvolim’s mindset, but that enthusiastic, optimistic, thoroughly human persona brutally clashed with the maelstrom roiling in my gut. Until I could dispel that storm, I hoped I could remember to answer to another name.

Also, rumors would unquestionably get started among those who’d known me as Ryvolim, the change in my personality would be so vast, but perhaps the others would chalk it up to a fugue that I’d acquired during the recent battle.

Yeah. That could work…

I dragged cupped hands through an ocean of blood, clawing my way to the surface. Ignoring the bodies of family and friends, clogging the liquid around me, I focused on the pinpoint of bright red above, but with every stroke that I took, it retreated a step further. My lungs begged for something, ANYTHING to fill them, and while I fought the impulse for as long as I could, I eventually gave in and drowned on blood…

When someone poked my shoulder, I snorted awake, quickly realizing that I’d gone through yet another nightmare.

Those had picked up in frequency since Da’kul. Over the winter, I’d had a break from them, and my freedom from visiting a world of blood every night had come as a relief. In the last week, however, nights spent flailing amongst my dead loved ones had called on me three times. Soon, sleep would bring nothing but the memory of past violence and dearly loved faces, slackened by death. Yet another delight to add to the pile.

“Surry, Ryvolim, sir, but I’m closing,” Sigemond rumbled above me. “Yu all right? Were thraeshing.”

I didn’t answer that question, blearily looking around instead.

“What time is it?” I asked, rubbing my face.

“Urly hours of the murn, sir,” Sigemond said.

Nodding, I yawned, ruffling my hair into some semblance of order before scooting to the end of the bench.

“Let me get out of your-”

When I tried to stand, my legs refused to support my weight, and I collapsed to the ground, smashing my chin on the table on the way down. Groaning, I tried and failed to get up, once again.

“Damnit, really?” I snapped.

Why was I still paralyzed? Hours had come and gone since I’d healed Aramar.

“…Are you all right, Ryvolim?” Sigemond said. “Shuld I get someone for yu?”

“Raimie!” I said. “Get Raimie. Please.”

Eyeing my laid-out state, Sigemond said, “Ok… shuld I help yu-?”

When he reached for me, I quickly shook my head.

“Please, just… find my friend.”

With a nod, Sigemond dashed out of the tavern with the door slamming behind him.

Once I was alone, I shouted, “Creation, get out here!”

When they popped into existence, they had the most annoyed look on their face, immediately saying.

“There’s no need for that, Eria-”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

My shout reverberated in the empty tavern, and when Creation jerked away from me, I winced. That had been much more aggressive than I should have been. Before I could apologize for my behavior, though, Creation went pale, reaching for my legs.

“What did you do?” they gasped.

“Healed Aramar for Raimie,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. Just tell me if I’m stuck like this.”

Because that could cause… problems. I could handle it, given time and patience, but I doubted I’d have either of those things in my present circumstances.

“I told you that the whole was abandoning you!” Creation said. “Why would you immediately go out and get yourself hurt after I did that?”

“Because I didn’t think that Ele’s ‘perfect health’ trait could fail on me like this,” I said. “I knew it would take longer for me to come back from death, but I didn’t know how far this abandonment would go. Seems it’s much further than I assumed.”

Groaning, I rubbed my face before something froze me solid.

Wait a minute. Did this mean…? Could I die—really, truly die—now? 

Where was my sword?

No. Hang on. Even if I could finally move on from this plane of existence, I had too many responsibilities here. I couldn’t leave Raimie behind, especially not after everything he’d told me last night, and besides that, I’d made a promise to Arivor. I wouldn’t let Daevetch continue to manipulate my old friend, simply because Ele had partially retracted its claws from me.

And… I didn’t want to die. Seizing an easy solution to my curse—one that might not actually solve anything, now that I thought about it—seemed short-sighted. There had to be a better way to end the cycle. I needed to keep looking for it.

Which meant I needed to figure out how to heal from the condition I’d taken from Aramar.

As if reading my mind, Creation sighed.

“Pull from me,” they said. “I’ll help you bend reality so you can retrieve enough of my whole for healing.”

Smirking, I said, “We’ve spent way too much time together. You shouldn’t be able to know what I’m thinking like that.”

Creation rolled their eyes.

“Just do it, arrogant snot.”

And I obliged them. I didn’t bother with teasing at Ele, taking what was rightfully mine before infusing my body with it. As I did, Creation choked and gagged, and the gates stayed open for a moment longer. Then, they slammed closed with that loss of contact jarring me, but I’d stolen enough. I hoped.

If I coated my body with Preservation’s power, it should jumpstart the healing process, or at least, that was the idea. I didn’t have any experience with this application of Ele, so I couldn’t be sure it would work. I’d have to hope I was right, trusting that Creation, with their eons of lived experience, wouldn’t have suggested this if it wouldn’t .

Speaking of which, I should check on them. 

With difficulty, I split my awareness, leaving one part firmly holding onto Ele while the other found my constant shadow, but at the sight of them, I almost lost hold of that primal power.

Creation’s form was flickering with internal waves distorting their body. Their features had been stretched apart so far that the edges had disappeared while their fingertips had pinched into a vanishing point. The view reminded me of when a splinter popped out of existence, but in slow motion.

Come on, my friend. Don’t heed the whole’s call yet. Stay here. With me.

When I reached for Creation, they struggled to clasp my hand. At the sensation of physical touch, I frowned and then…

White light blossomed on my legs, but tingling agony accompanied its normally soothing presence. When I screamed, Creation wailed alongside me, flickering and flashing until it hurt to look at them and then…

Ele retreated like a wounded dog from us both. Hissing, I rubbed my legs to soothe lingering pins and needles while beside me, Creation coughed, grabbing at their neck.

“What is this?” they asked. “Is this breathing? Why do I need to breathe?”

I shot an annoyed look at Creation, but that changed when I saw how wide their eyes had gone. Sliding closer to them, I patted their back.

“There, there,” I said.

Wait. I’d actually patted their back. I could feel them.

“What the-?”

Narrowing my eyes, I poked Creation’s cheek, getting a startled yelp in return. Slapping at my hand, they rubbed at the offended spot with a glare.

“That… hurt?” they said. “What in the name of the whole is wrong with me?”

Oh, no. I couldn’t stop it. I shouldn’t do this but-

Bursting into laughter, I gasped, “Welcome to the ranks of the living.”

Raimie chose this moment to burst through the tavern’s door, and the laughter that I’d already thought too intense doubled in strength. Tipping over, I hit the floor, clutching at my stomach. Gods, it hurt.

“Alouin, Rhy!” Raimie said as he rushed over. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve joined you fleshy mortals! That’s what’s wrong!” Creations shouted before gasping.

With their hands flying to their neck once more, they wrinkled their nose.

“Ouch. What… is this? How do you people stand it? And how long do I have to keep breathing like this?”

Wiping my eyes, I caught Raimie’s confused look, but I was still too absorbed with catching my breath to explain.

“Um… it never stops?” he said.

“How do you lot endure this on a daily basis?” Creation said, mostly to themselves.

“Wait until you need to eat,” I said, suppressing a grin. “Eating by itself is rather fun but if you wait a few hours…”

Creation’s look of horror was worth it. Worth their previous cycles of nagging and monitoring. Worth every time they’d made me murder my best friend.

“Ok. I don’t know how this—whatever it is—happened, but hopefully, we can help you fix it,” Raimie said. “Bright? Dim? Do you have any thoughts?”

From where they’d appeared beside Raimie, Dim said, “Why would I help an enemy regain their power? Besides, I think this is hilarious.”

For the first time, I found myself agreeing with a Daevetch splinter. What strange times I’d found myself in.

Unlike their counterpart, Bright merely circled Creation with a look of concentration on their face.

“Our Champion did this?” they asked as they crouched in front of the splinter-turned-human. “You haven’t stayed away from the whole for too long or directly disobeyed the consensus?”

“I only helped him with something that the whole might have frowned upon,” Creation said.

Looking at their hands, they looked so lost, and seeing that, I wanted to smack myself. Gods, I was acting like an asshole.

“Then, this may be a silly question,” Bright said, “but have you tried returning to the whole?”

As Creation’s mouth dropped open, they furrowed their brow before disappearing with a pop.

“There,” Bright said, brushing their hands off. “Problem solved.”

“How did they-?” Raimie said before lifting a hand. “No, wait. What just happened?”

Bright affectionately patted his shoulder.

“One moment, Raimie.”

Then, they rounded on me.

“You!”

As Bright flung Ele at me, it washed over my body with the barest of stings.

“I never thought I’d have to say this to you, but STOP ACTING LIKE A CHILD!” they shouted. “Yes! My whole has abandoned you. Yes! It’s come after millennia of service along with all of the suffering that entailed. Yes! That’s not fair. But in the name of the whole, Eriadren, try to look at the big picture.”

Gods, they’d raised their voice so much, making me shrink away from them. I didn’t think I’d ever seen an Ele splinter this angry before, and I most certainly had never seen this particular splinter acting so… like this before.

“My whole hasn’t completely abandoned you yet, or you’d be long dead by now,” they continued. “The process of restoring your body to perfect condition simply takes longer than it did before. Get used to it! Life changes, even one as long as yours.

“You’ve known for a while that something’s different about this cycle. I mean… look at your ally. A dual primeancer? We haven’t seen someone like that since Alouin.”

Bright got right in my face with their voice lowered to a whisper.

“The Eternal War can never end, Eriadren. The destruction of one side by the other would mean reality’s annihilation. Raimie, however, may have the ability to fix the massive disbalance between us, started by your silly experiment. Maybe, maybe he can free you from your ‘curse’ as well, but getting angry with a force of nature like Ele won’t solve anything. Drop it. Do we understand one another?”

Swallowing, I could do nothing more than nod, for the moment at least.

“Good,” Bright said.

And they turned away.

Chapter 50: Pivot Point

Ryvolim

 

Seemingly finished with me, Bright craned their head toward their human.

“Crisis solved,” they said. “You can tell him your news now.”

“But you didn’t answer my… ugh!”

Groaning, Raimie slapped a hand to his face. 

“Whatever. I should be used to people keeping things from me by now,” he said. “Guess I’ll follow my reliable routine of pretending I’m not confused as hell.”

With a head shake, he crouched beside Bright.

“Are you all right, Rhy? I’ve never seen Sigemond moving so quickly before.”

With a grimace, I said, “I’m fine, although I may need help with getting to my feet. We should let Sigemond close shop, like he was doing before I asked him to get you.”

“Sure.”

With Raimie’s help, I got to my feet, but as soon as he stopped steadying me, I wobbled, having to grab for a table. At that, Raimie, of course, tried to help me again.

Waving him off, I said, “I promise. I’m fine. My legs are a little unsteady, is all. Let’s get out of here.”

As he followed me out of the tavern, Raimie watched me, probably so he could catch me if I fell. I didn’t like him thinking he needed to take care of me, so I tried to distract him.

“What did Bright mean when they mentioned news?” I asked.

“Oh, that,” Raimie said.

Half-closing one eye, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“After you left, I spent most of last night browsing reports from the Hand-”

“Not sleeping?” I amusedly interrupted.

“I did some of that too! Hell, you really are like a mother hen sometimes,” Raimie said. “I kept waking up, though, so I gave up on sleep after a while.

“Anyway, it seems we’ve missed a lot of Hand business while capturing the Birthing Grounds. Apparently, Thumb sent us a warning about Kaedesa’s arrival a while back. I wish I’d read that report before she showed up on our doorstep, but I guess that’s in the past . I can’t change it. Something else that could be significant, though: we received a rather succinct report from Pointer last night.”

Frowning, I said, “Remind me which Hand member Pointer is again?”

“Wait, have you met all of them?” Raimie said. “I didn’t think- No, actually, it makes perfect sense that you’d know who’s in my Hand.”

As he shook his head, I smirked at him. I had always gone out of my way to make sure Raimie was as safe as he could be. So, as soon as I'd learned about Oswin before the beach battle so many months ago, I’d figured out who else might be a spy in my ally’s army.

“Pointer’s the slender, tall, and utterly nondescript one,” Raimie said.

“Ah, yes,” I said with a nod. “The one who’s in love with the big guy.”

“The big… Thumb?” Raimie said. “Pointer and Thumb are together?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Yes, but hush! I don’t think anyone’s supposed to know about that,” I said. “So, what did Pointer have to say?”

“Uhmm…” Raimie said before shaking his head to clear it. “He- he wrote up his assessment of Elisk’s defenses as well as sharing that he and Thumb have escaped the city and are on their way home.”

Well, then. Finally, some progress.

Making a sharp turn, I ducked into an alley, and after making sure no one besides Raimie was watching, I used Ele to spring from perch to perch until I clanged onto a poorly placed balcony, far above the heads of the people meandering down the street. Peeking through the door that led onto my narrow roost, I scanned the empty room beyond with satisfaction. I was in the process of building an Ele cocoon between my hands when Raimie leapt onto the balcony beside me.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Why the subterfuge?”

Giving him a significant glance, I finished with my cocoon of white light before answering.

“I’m making sure that Doldimar can’t overhear us. He doesn’t like using a shade meld to eavesdrop on his enemies, but for this conversation, we must be, without a doubt, alone. Now. What did Pointer say about Elisk’s defenses?”

With his lips pursed, Raimie examined my cocoon, obviously trying to figure out how he could recreate what he was seeing.

“Basically, he said that if we tried to take the city now, it would end in a slaughter,” he distractedly said.

All right. That was about what I’d expected, which made my next question so much more painful to ask.

“Is Doldimar in the city?”

Focusing back on me, Raimie said, “That depends. Is he a crazy, blonde-and-blue-haired Eselan?”

“How am I supposed to know what Arivor’s current body looks like? He’s always been a recluse once he’s taken over,” I said, “but he would be the only non-Corrupted Eselan in his domain. His first task with every cycle is to wipe out or convert others of our kind.”

“That… makes sense, unfortunate as it is.”

With a grimace, Raimie got a faraway look in his eyes for a noticeable amount of time before slapping at his cheeks.

“If that’s true, then yes. Doldimar’s in the city,” he said.

Looking away, I bit the inside of my lip. Hell. A silly part of me had been hoping to hear the opposite.

“Why is that relevant, Rhy?” Raimie asked.

Puffing out a sigh, I hugged myself while keeping my Ele-wreathed hands visible.

“I need you to give the order to attack Elisk,” I said, looking over my friend’s head.

As a choked cough flew from him, Raimie rocked backward.

“Why would I do that?” he hissed. “I just said an assault on the city would lead to a slaughter.”

Gods damnit. Gods damnit, why was this cycle forcing me to ask my friend if he’d order the people he considered family into a battle that would claim far too many lives?

“Ele’s losing to Daevetch, Raimie,” I said, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “If you don’t believe me about that, you can ask your splinters. And I’m… my powers are failing me. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to kill Daevetch’s Champion.”

“But that’s… huh.”

Raimie pulled Ele to one hand, adding to my glow, before briefly pulling Daevetch into the other one. Flinging both away, he shook out his hands.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’d noticed that Ele was getting sluggish when I called for it, but I thought that was because of how much Daevetch I’ve had to use recently.”

“That’s reasonable,” I said, “but wrong.”

“Well, shit.”

Holding my breath, I gave my friend a moment to fully appreciate the implications of what I’d said before continuing.

“I’m not like the spies of your Hand. I can’t approach the city by myself because Doldimar will feel me coming from miles away. I need you and your army to play distraction while I sneak up on him and end the threat.”

Frowning, Raimie slowly says, “I know that, but… what about your other goal?”

He leaned forward, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial whisper.

“Breaking the cycle?”

With a sad chuckle, I said, “If things continue as they have been this time around, I don’t think the cycle will be a problem for much longer. That, however, isn’t a question I can afford to think about any longer. We could take the time to figure out how to fix the disbalance between Ele and Daevetch, definitively releasing me from this repetition of pain and death. We could risk the chance that while undertaking that search, my ability to kill Doldimar fails. Or we can end the threat to Auden now. Let you, your people, and countless generations lead full, happy lives.”

With his jaw set, Raimie said, “I’m willing to take that chance. The world shouldn’t rely on you alone to kill Doldimar. Another way to deal with this problem must exist. We can find it together.”

“Can we?” I asked. “Doldimar is sustained by a force similar to what’s keeping me alive. I’m not sure why I’ve been able to kill him as many times as I have.”

Crossing his arms, Raimie glared at me, probably frustrated with me for giving up so easily. I could hear him saying those words, even knowing that he never actually would.

“Say we focused on the curse afflicting the two of you. Say we found a solution,” he said instead. “If the cycle’s broken, Doldimar could revert to Arivor again, and the need to kill him would vanish. It wouldn’t matter if your ability to do it still worked.”

“Or he could stay Doldimar, a powerful Daevetch primeancer in command of a vast army. One that he’s had centuries of experience with leading,” I said.

Oh gods, the struggle on Raimie’s face! My friend desperately wanted a happy ending for us all, and it warmed my heart that he cared so much, but sometimes, happy endings were like an isolationist Ratchavish town that happily accepted foreign visitors. They just didn’t exist.

“I’ll give the order,” Raimie said with his shoulders slumping.

Nodding, I prepared to drop down to the streets below.

“But, Rhy?”

When I looked up, I barely held back a wince on seeing my friend’s stiff posture and the stubborn look in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare think about doing anything stupid on your own,” Raimie said. “I’ll go with you to face him.”

I’d confronted Doldimar countless times, faced every trick in the Dark Lord’s arsenal, retreated, regrouped, and suffered far too many agonies on this last, inevitable leg of the cycle. I was more than prepared for what the next few weeks would bring with them. Even so, it was touching that my friend wanted to help, even if it made lying to him hurt all the worse.

“Of course, Raimie,” I said. “I’d never leave you out of this.”

Chapter 51: Saying Goodbye

Kylorian

 

Raimie and his army had left Tiro a day or so ago, almost as soon as his people had returned from the Birthing Grounds, and I was still struggling with figuring out how I felt about that. In many ways, I was questioning what I knew about him. 

I’d thought he was smarter than this. Who rushed off to take a kingdom’s capital when the rest of the place was still firmly under its oppressor’s sway?

But then, maybe he wasn’t truly on his way to assault Elisk. Maybe he’d used that as an excuse to get out of Tiro before anything untoward could happen to him or his people. His timing had certainly been impeccable, departing from the city mere hours before Tanwadur had arrived back home.

At the least, I knew I was jealous of Raimie for dodging that man’s wrath. I was also grateful to him for leaving when he had, though, because without a target for him to direct his anger at, my father had retreated into his study for the last day, which had been both a blessing and a curse. It meant I didn’t have to discover what his initial reaction to our circumstances would be, but it also meant that Eliade had been left alone to deal with her grief, and I… I’d been so busy with… other things that I’d had little time to help her.

And there was that. The other things.

Over the last few days, I’d been dealing with a sense of metaphorical whiplash on top of everything else, all caused by Ren. When I’d first barged in on her after she’d run away from me and the news I’d brought home, the sheer overload of seeing her cuddling with another man, coming so soon after I’d had my own confrontation with said man, had brought my ‘inner Dury’ out in full force. It was something I greatly regretted, if only for how it had affected Ren.

But then, mere hours after that… incident, Ren had come bursting in on me, in the first quiet moment I’d found since returning home, only to tell me that she and Raimie were finished. She’d been inconsolable ever since.

I understood why Raimie had broken things off with her. Marrying Queen Kaedesa was a wise move, gaining him more economical and military power than I could possibly hope to counter. If I’d known she was in the country, I might have tried proposing a similar scenario to her. If that weren’t enough, I didn’t even blame him for choosing Kaedesa over Ren. The move made so much sense that I’d have been confounded if he hadn’t gone for it.

Still. Seeing Ren, the girl I’d loved since childhood, crying her eyes out over him had been… difficult, and I’d been struggling with figuring out where to place the anger it had caused. What did I do with it when I couldn’t blame anyone for what had happened?

It didn’t help that I hadn’t been angry like this in a good, long while. Any time the emotion had come up in the past, I’d easily pushed it away, burying it deep down, but this anger wouldn’t let me do that. Every time I thought I’d mastered it, it came back up, and because of that, I’d been taking a lot of breaks in my home to calm down, in between everything else that had required my attention recently.

That was where I was now, pacing up a storm, but I knew I couldn’t keep at this for much longer. I was supposed to meet my family at Tiro’s graveyard soon, which was just… 

Hell, I didn’t want to do that.

But I had to. So after a few more passes across the room, I turned to the door in a forced jerk and marched outside.

Tiro’s graveyard wasn’t found inside the city. Given how small our hideaway was, there was barely enough room for the living here, much less the dead. 

Even still, the dead must be honored and remembered. It was the least we few surviving Audish could do for those that our Dark Lord’s reign had deemed unworthy.

Hence, why Tiro had a single weak point in its defenses, most especially in the many ways we remained hidden.

At the join where the city-concealing lattice and mountain shelf met, there was a small opening in the vines and leaves covering it. A concealed trail led from this point to a spot near the top of the mountains, far enough away that it didn’t reveal Tiro’s locations while remaining within walking distance. Here was where we honored our dead.

Eliade and Ren were waiting for me there, but I saw no sign of Tanwadur. After glancing across the barren rock around us, I approached the women with an eyebrow raised.

“Where is he?” 

As Eliade choked back a sob, Ren hugged herself, looking off toward the far distant Narrow Sea.

“Not coming,” she said. “He wouldn’t answer me when I knocked on his door this morning.”

…Not… coming? To his own son’s funeral?

“That asshole,” I said under my breath.

Wiping her eyes, Eliade said, “Your father’s grieving, Ky. He does it in his own way. I’m sure he’ll come out here when he’s ready.”

That was debatable. Still, I wrapped my arms around Eliade, squeezing her.

“I know.”

On pulling away from her, I winced.

“I guess it’s down to me to lead this thing, then, huh?”

Ducking her head, Eliade fiddled with her tunic, staring at her hands all the while.

“You don’t have to, Ky,” she whispered. “I… I can-”

“No.”

I reached forward to nudge my mother’s chin up.

“We agreed on this earlier,” I said. “After you clearly stated how much leading this would destroy you, Dury said he’d take the task on to spare you, and I promised that I’d serve in his stead, if need be.”

“But-!”

Squeezing her shoulder, I said, “I can do this, mom. Please, let me.”

Eliade fiercely bit her lip before nodding.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I ignored her unasked for and frankly, unwanted gratitude. When I glanced at Ren, she huffed out a sigh before leading the way to where one of her scouts had left everything we’d need for this process.

They’d picked a good spot. It wasn’t too far from the other graves but was distant enough to grant visitors privacy, and a lone tree, clinging to the nearby mountainside, provided some shade for us. 

Hadrion’s sword as well as a jar and a wrapped bundle waited for us there. While Eliade and Ren came to a stop a few paces away from this, I continued forward, picking up the sword once I could. I turned to them, laying the weapon across my palms so they could see it, and cleared my throat.

“We are here to honor Hadrion: a son, a brother, and one we loved. In his death, we speak to his essence, flinging our words into the void in the hopes that his essence may hear us.”

“Please, let him hear us,” Eliade and Ren intoned.

I couldn’t bear to look at them for long. Eliade’s body was already shaking like a leaf—and we hadn’t gotten to the hard part yet—while Ren looked empty. Her red-rimmed eyes stared through me while a puppeteer moved her body, and the sight of them in this grief-stricken state killed me. It reached into my heart and mind, and something like what they were experiencing pulsed back.

I wrenched my eyes above their heads before the sensation could overcome me.

“Hadrion wasn’t much of a warrior, and it’s safe to say that everyone knew this,” I continued. “Even still, he worked hard to learn what martial skills he had, never realizing how strong of a champion he was in the fight for our humanity. In the tongue of our ancestors, everyone he touched has always spoken of him as unlida—”

‘Inspiring’-Yskella, the master of Tiro’s training yard.

“—valkonen—”

‘Valuable’-Sigemond, barkeep.

“—enenkiva vo salunan—”

‘Light in the dark’-Rhylix, a brother’s friend, now gone.

“—…unlavi.”

‘Hope’-Raimie, friend. Killer. The one who might save me from my fate.

Woodenly, I lowered the sword to the ground between me and the girls, returning to the pile at my back for the jar. As I joined Eliade and Ren once more, I noted that my mother had started openly sobbing before pulling the jar’s lid off.

“Today, we name our brother and son in full. In the way of our ancestors, we name him.”

I stuck my fingers into the mix of ashes and water that the jar contained before getting on my knees. With the mixture I’d gathered, I painted three words near the sword, trying not to think about what the grime on my hands—a grey slightly darker than the stone beneath it—really was.

Above me, my mother whispered the three words I’d written—

“Hadrion val Compassion.”

—before bursting into tears again.

I hoped I’d chosen correctly. When it had come to fully naming my brother, I’d had to narrow everything he’d been into a single word, and the idea that I might gain this responsibility had been at the back of my mind, rolling over on itself, since I’d brought Hadrion home a week ago. Given my mother’s reaction and how Ren had slowly lowered herself to the ground with me, I thought they might agree with my decision.

At this point, I should get back up and retrieve the final piece of our ceremony. I should unwrap it and finish with this task, but… but I couldn’t move. I tried to send the energy radiating from my chest to my legs instead of my arms, but they refused to receive it, becoming so much dead meat beneath me.

I couldn’t fail my brother in this, not after failing him so horribly at the end of his life. I couldn’t, but with my body refusing to listen to me, I could only look at my mother, hoping she’d see the dilemma on my face.

When she met my gaze, Eliade’s eyes softened, and with a fierce sniff, she drew herself upright, nodding once. She marched past me, leaving me to stare at the mess I’d made, but on retrieving the last piece of our ceremony, she joined me and Ren on the ground.

Gently, she laid a wrapped bundle into my limp hands, waiting until I forced my dirty fingers to close around it before letting go. Eliade said not a word, merely reaching up to brush my cheek before returning her attention to a sword and its owner’s name, scrawled beneath it.

I was so grateful to her for this. For doing what I could not. For letting me finish a task I’d momentarily faltered in. For making not one comment about how I’d needed her help. It let me take a deep breath and unwrap a piece of tanned leather from around the only substantial pieces of my brother that remained.

Holding my breath, I handed three of the four out: a lock of hair—the easiest of the pieces—to my mother, a tooth to Ren, a fingerbone for me. 

Picking up the jar once more, I drew a circle around a sword and a name, dividing it into thirds, before sprinkling the rest of the jars contents along the sword’s scabbard. Ren and Eliade joined me in holding our pieces of a loved one over this scene.

“We carry you with us,” I started.

Shakily, Eliade said, “You’re with me always.”

She folded her lock of hair into a knot before pinning it into her own mass of hair. Its blonde color was a stark contrast against her darker one.

“You’re with me always,” Ren said.

Bringing the tooth to her mouth, she kissed it before tucking it into a pocket at her waist.

Which brought things back to me.

No matter how much I didn’t deserve to do so, I said, “You’re with me always.”

With a leather thong, I tied my brother’s finger bone around the harness of my sword’s scabbard. Then, I reached for Ren’s hand, grabbing my mother’s as soon as my sister had accepted it.

Once we were joined together, I said, “Hadrion val Compassion, you have made your mark on us all. You were loved, my brother. You were… loved. May that love guard you against our one, true enemy, the Morán. May that love protect you in the void beyond the real.”

And that was it. The Rionunder Ceremony of the Dead, passed down from the time before Alouin had brought the Esela to our world, was complete. Now, we could turn to our own outpouring of grief.

Chapter 52: A Decision for Myself

Kylorian

 

Unfortunately, turning to their own grief was a luxury only Eliade and Ren could afford right now. After hugging them both, murmuring reassuring words as they shuddered or remained dry-eyed, I left Tiro’s graveyard in a rush. On storming into the city, I made straight for my parent’s home, barely remembering to open its door gently instead of slamming my way through it as I’d like. My mother lived here too, after all.

I didn’t bother with knocking on Tanwadur’s door. Striding through it, I advanced on him, which gave him enough time to look up from his desk in surprise.

“Ky! I was hoping you’d come here-”

Slamming my soiled hand in front of him, I pointed at it.

“Look at this, Dury.”

And when he only stared at me with tightened eyebrows, I fucking roared.

“Look at it!”

Reluctantly, he turned his gaze downward, and I stabbed my floating finger toward my hand once more.

“These are Hadrion’s ashes, dad. Your son’s ashes!” I shouted. “Why weren’t you there to honor him? Did his life mean so little to you?”

Sighing, Tanwadur said, “You’re being dramatic, Kylorian. Of course Hadrion meant something to me! Of course he did. Now, would you please calm down and sit?”

Calm… down? He wanted me to calm down?

“I had to take your place in the Ceremony!” I shouted. “I had to do something awful for you again because you- you-”

Heat had clogged up my throat so badly that all the words I wanted to say got caught in my chest instead. As I struggled with this blockage, Tanwadur calmly looked up at me and said one word.

“Good.”

The icy tone in that word reminded me about who I was talking to. It reminded me that Tanwadur had yet to greet me after coming home to find his son dead.

Heat was still beating against the door to my mind, but still, I swallowed. Straightened. Took a step back. Watched him for what he’d do next.

Tanwadur merely returned to what he’d been doing before I barged in on him. I listened to the steady scratch of his quill across a page, along with his quiet breathing, until I couldn’t resist the question poised on my tongue any longer.

“How is any of this ‘good’?” I said, barely keeping my voice from a growl.

“Because now, maybe you’ve learned your lesson,” Tanwadur said without looking up. “After you gave me your opinion on the problem in our midst, I told you that you shouldn’t believe a word he said, and yet, you still sided with him on his half-mad dash to the Birthing Grounds. You trusted him with your brother’s life, and because of that, Hadrion’s dead. I’ve let you suffer the full consequences of those choices, hoping you’d understand how important it is to listen to me, although I suppose you’ll have to tell me if that’s finally happened.”

He… blamed me for Hadrion’s death? I… I…

Dully, I said, “I’ve always known that listening to you was the wisest course of action.”

“Mm,” Tanwadur hummed.

He tapped his quill’s tip on the paper for a moment before looking up at me.

“I understand why all of this has happened. For years, I’ve been waiting for you to rebel against my directives, as every boy does when he grows up. It’s unfortunate that you chose these difficult times to test yourself against me, but in the end, we will deal with our losses. The important thing is that you now know how disastrous choosing your own path can be. You know you should follow the one I’ve laid down for you instead.”

For a moment, I simply blinked at him before realizing he expected a reply from me.

The only one I could manage was, “Yes, sir.”

Leaning back in his chair, Tanwadur speculatively eyed me for what felt like forever before shaking his head.

“Then again, perhaps this is my fault too, at least in part,” he said. “It’s been a while since I’ve shown you what it’s like to stay in my good graces. Do you need a reminder of what that feels like, Kylorian?”

My mind and body locked up. I knew I couldn’t show this to him, though, so I made my clumsy tongue move inside my frozen mouth.

“No. Thank you, sir.”

When Tanwadur stood up, I felt myself going fully numb, felt my body tingling in a far distant place. I watched from the back of my head as he came closer.

“Are you sure?” he asked, peering into my eyes.

Scrambling to move something, even as far away as I was, I used metaphorical pins to contort my lips into a smile.

“I’m sure,” came out of my mouth. “Thank you, sir.”

Tanwadur’s face softened, and he pulled me into a hug. Each pound of his hand on my back brought me more fully into control of my body, and once it felt like it might be mine again, I hesitantly returned his embrace.

“It’s going to be ok, son,” he whispered in my ear. “We’ll work through this together.”

He released me, strolling back to his desk, and I just breathed.

“I’m already working on a plan to handle Raimie, on the off chance he doesn’t get killed on this newest endeavor of his. While I was visiting Da’kul, the commander he’d placed there, Gistrick, went running off on his own, well before news of the idiot’s newest strategy reached the fort. It seems the commander has his doubts about his leader. Maybe we can cultivate those doubts until he becomes our ally,” Tanwadur said as he sat, “although given his decision to attack Elisk, of all places, it seems unlikely we’ll see Raimie’s face again. If we do, though, I want to be ready to take our revenge for Hadrion out on him.”

…Revenge? Did that mean he blamed Raimie for what had happened? I didn’t… didn’t…

“In the meantime, I need you to take care of Eliade and your sister,” Tanwadur continued. “I’ll let you know when we’re ready for the next step.”

When he glanced at me, I nodded, which seemed to satisfy him. With a half-smile, he waved at me.

“Now, go wash that filth off of your hands,” he said. “It’s time to move on.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

Now released, I could march into the street outside, hazily watching people pass on either side of me. A well up ahead drew me forward like a magnet, and when I reached it, I hauled up a bucket of water, unhooking it so I could take it to a nearby gutter. I plunged my hand into its icy confines, scrubbing it until it was bright pink, and once it was clean, I emptied the bucket. I watched dirty water—Hadrion!—swirl along the gutter’s incline until it mixed with the other filth and sludge further down the way.

This was what my brother had become, was it? Filth to be washed away? All because of m- Raimie?

When I blinked, that complicated, confusing man was standing in front of me, and I watched myself wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze and squeeze and SQUEEZE until life started leaking out of him. Then, I stepped back and made him suffer until-

I blinked again, and he was gone, leaving me barren and empty. I was faintly surprised at how violent I’d so quickly become. Had that imagining been truly mine, or had it been my ‘inner Dury’, coming out to play? Did I blame Raimie for my brother’s death, or was that only my father, messing with my head, yet again?

It was concerning that I didn’t know the answer to either of those questions.

I had to figure it out. When it came to this one, singular thing, I couldn’t let Tanwadur influence me, not in any way. Raimie had been the first and only person I’d related to who wasn’t connected to my father. I- I needed to know if he was my enemy or my friend.

And I couldn’t figure that out while I was here.

With that fact known, my next steps were easy. I secured supplies from someone who’d survived a recent Harvest, one I’d led the rescue for. While checking on my people, I made sure that they knew they weren’t to follow new orders until I returned. They were free to protect Tiro as they saw fit, but I didn’t want them doing anything else, especially if the idea came from Tanwadur. And then, I headed for the closest stable to the city’s stone doors.

I was saddling a horse, checking on her tackle as I did so, when Ren found me. Her appearance didn’t surprise me as much as it probably should have. She and Hadrion had always had an uncanny ability to know when I was about to leave them.

I ignored her as she walked into the stable. She paused, crossing her arms to watch me for a moment. Once she was ready to speak, she walked forward, laying a hand on my arm.

“You’re going?” she softly asked.

Without looking at her, I nodded.

“I have to get away for a while. Need to figure some things out for myself,” I said. “I’m sorry about that, Ren. I know you’re struggling right now, what with Hadrion and Raimie…”

Ren squeezed my arm until I looked at her.

“I’ll be fine, given time,” she said. “What about you? Will you be ok?”

“I… don’t know,” I said. “It’s one reason why I have to go.”

Releasing a sigh, Ren tugged me away from my task, wrapping me in her arms once I’d faced her. I struggled to accept the comfort she was offering me—I was supposed to take care of her—but gradually, I relaxed into her embrace, holding her for a while.

When she eventually pulled away, it hurt, but I didn’t let that show, merely rubbing my arm. I only realized how awkward that must look when Ren let a faint smile show through the exhausted mask she’d been wearing lately.

As I turned back to my task, she said, “I’ll look after Eliade and Dury while you’re gone, so don’t worry about them. You’re always looking out for us, never thinking about yourself, so please. Take as much time as you need with this, Ky.” 

Pursing my lips, I tightened one last strap on the saddle with a jerk.

“Don’t let Dury know that I’ve gone until he asks for me,” I said, deliberately ignoring what Ren had said. “He might send people after me once he realizes what I’ve done, and I don’t want to cause more trouble than I already have to with this.”

One last act of rebellion. A choice I was making solely for myself. Something I desperately needed right now.

“All right,” Ren said. 

When I swung up into the saddle, she patted my thigh, staring up at me with the ghost of a smile.

“I’d tell you to be safe, but we both know you don’t need that reminder,” she said.

“I never do,” I replied, forcing out a genuine smile.

Or as close to a genuine one as I could get right now, at least.

“See you soon, Ren.”

She patted my thigh once more before stepping back, and I nudged the horse into a walk. I didn’t think about where I was going or what I’d be doing until I was through Tiro’s gate and far into the surrounding woods. Sure, the goal of this jaunt was to get my head on straight and figure out what I—and I alone—wanted to do about the conundrum that had landed in my lap this winter, but I didn’t want to spend the time idly riding down roads and camping out at night. Much as I needed to be alone with my thoughts, I also couldn’t be fully alone with them.

So, what task could occupy me while I was working on my personal goals?

I didn’t find an answer to that question until I was out of the Cerrin Forest, near where I’d entered it not long ago. The memory that had once ushered me under the trees’ canopy came back to mind as I greeted a clear sky, and I huffed out a laugh.

“Ivelais,” I said under my breath.

The only other secret I’d kept from Tanwadur. The act of rebellion he’d never found out about. It seemed fitting that I revisit that portion of my life while openly defying my father for the first time.

Besides, what had I been considering the last time I’d thought about Ivelais? How they’d react to the news of their friend’s death?

That was a good goal. I’d find Ivelais, tell them what had happened to Hadrion, and see how they responded. I’d find out if my brother had been right about the Kiraak, whether they were still somewhat human or not. Maybe that could help inform me on my decision about Raimie as well.

I’d have to head for Nephiron first. That had been Ivelais’ intended destination once the impending danger of discovery had forced them out of my life, and wouldn’t that be interesting? From what I’d heard, the port city was under another realm’s control right now. 

What would that be like? Besides Tiro, I’d never been in a city that Doldimar didn’t rule.

“Something to look forward to,” I said.

With a destination in mind, I turned my horse’s head to the west and started that way.

Chapter 53: While on the Way Part One

Eledis

When I’d learned about the order to leave Tiro, I’d been irate. Why hadn’t Raimie consulted with me about this beforehand? 

And when I’d figured out where we were headed, I’d been confused. Time and again, Raimie had proven he had a decent tactical mind. He couldn’t believe that we should attack such a well-defended target now. 

But when the soldiers had obeyed the order without question, gathering up the belongings that they’d so recently unpacked after their return from the Birthing Grounds, that had been when I’d become concerned.

Nearly a week had passed since we’d begun this march, and no one had come looking for me or checked if I’d joined them. I’d begun to think I would need to track Raimie down when a messenger brought me a summons to the cramped tent that the kid had made his own.

“Everyone should already be here,” the messenger said as we approached it. “I’ll find the king and let him know you’re ready. He’ll be with you shortly.”

As he took off, I frowned at his back, unnerved by both the reverence with which he'd spoken Raimie's assumed title and the borderline disrespect with which he'd treated me. Things truly were not going to plan right now, and I didn't like that.

With a headshake, I ducked into the tent, and my stomach dropped at the collection of familiar faces that turned toward me.

Queen Kaedesa frowned at me from her corner, separate from the others, but then, she’d always liked keeping her distance from men of war. I bowed to her, which she acknowledged with the barest of nods.

At my entrance, Marcuset had gone a little pale, and judging from his fish-face, I’d say he’d come to the same conclusion as me. Beside him was-

“Gistrick!” I said, all smiles. “How long has it been?”

“Two months and three weeks,” Gistrick grumbled. “Eleven weeks I’ve been trapped in that damn fortress, doing administrative work to stave off boredom. I’m almost glad for this fool’s quest, if it means I can return to what I do best.”

Raising an eyebrow, I said, “You mean serving a king that Rhylix practically forced you to swear loyalty to, a man who may or may not be crazy?”

As I finished speaking, Gistrick nervously chuckled, flicking his eyes away from me. Good. He should be questioning his loyalty.

“Eledis!” Marcuset hissed, beckoning to get my attention.

When he jerked his head toward a corner opposite Kaedesa, I joined him and Gistrick there, glancing at the queen as I did. Rolling her eyes, she turned her back on us.

“What?” I snapped once our circle had closed.

Swallowing hard, Marcuset said, “Surely you’ve noticed-”

“Who Raimie has gathered here? Yes. What of it?” I whispered. “I don’t see Aramar among us. He’d be here if we had anything to truly fear.”

With a frown, Marcuset said, “Aramar’s been banished. Didn’t you hear?”

The idea of this had his face tightening.

“How could Raimie abandon his father to Doldimar’s domain, especially with how difficult walking is for him?”

Shaking his head, Gistrick said, “Aramar caught up with me before this march started. We needed to confirm a few things before he went traipsing into the unknown, and when we talked, he didn’t have that damn piece of tech on him.”

“He didn’t?” I said.

I found that hard to believe because-

“Without that piece of tech, he can’t move. How did he come to see you, then?”

“He… he’s not paralyzed anymore,” Gistrick said. “Someone fixed him, if you know what I mean.”

I did. Alouin… the implications of that could be devastating.

“I don’t care if Raimie found an Ele primeancer to take on Aramar’s paralysis before sending him into the cold!” Marcuset said with his mouth twisting. “He still banished his father, and those two were close. Why would he do that?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, but you two won’t shut up long enough for me to get it out!” Gistrick hissed. “When Aramar visited me, he left us a warning. Nylion’s back. Raimie remembers everything.”

As my thoughts skittered to a stop, I knew my mouth had dropped open, which was embarrassing. I wished I could close it but…

Fuck! The spell containing the aberration in Raimie’s head was supposed to last for decades. DECADES. As in more than the one it had managed.

After she’d cast that spell, we’d complied with the suggestions of the Eselan witch who’d placed it. We’d isolated Raimie from locations that might trigger a memory, minimized the stress he daily dealt with, avoided arguments with him when possible…

But those things had happened frequently since we’d left home. No wonder the spell had broken!

Hell. What were we supposed to do now? The Eselan witch had died a few years ago, and I didn’t know of another Eselan who’d inherited her ability to manipulate the mind.

Of more relevance, however, was that I knew absolutely no Esela in Auden, besides the Zrelnach we’d brought with us. Apparently, one of Doldimar’s obsessions had included eradicating that race, and within Auden’s borders, he’d been quite thorough with it. All of which meant that no one could replicate the spell that had, for years, kept Nylion in check.

“He’s brought us on this march to kill us,” Gistrick whispered. “That’s what Aramar was trying to tell me last week.”

Nodding with wild eyes, Marcuset said, “Except for Aramar, everyone involved with… that is in this tent, at least of those close to Raimie at the time.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re panicking, Marcuset,” I said. “You and Kaedesa should be safe, at least compared to Gistrick and me. You never approved of our decision to remove Nylion, and at the time, both of you were too embroiled in running a foreign nation to help with a family matter.”

That made my friend bristle.

“You know why we infiltrated Ada’ir’s ruling caste!” Marcuset hissed, keeping his voice down with difficulty. “We were hoping to raise an army in case the foretelling failed!”

“Stop it, you two! We should be focusing on more important issues,” Gistrick said, glaring at me and Marcuset. “How are we going to kill an angry primeancer before he does the same to us?”

“Kill?!” Marcuset yelped while I said, “With the element of surprise, of course.”

We fell silent, eyeing each other.

With a hoarse voice, Marcuset eventually said, “How can either of you even think of killing Raimie? He’s like the son none of us truly had.”

Exchanging a glance, Gistrick and I chuckled.

“Sure, I was fond of Raimie when he was my student,” Gistrick said, “but now? I’m not so sure. He’s… changed, nothing like the pliant boy I knew.”

“And I think you’re projecting, Emir,” I said, just to goad him.

Which worked.

Going stiff, Marcuset shouted, “Don’t call me that!”

As the ring of his shout faded, the tent flap at our side lifted.

“-sure someone in the Hand is on Rhy at all times, Oswin,” Raimie said. “I don’t trust him to stay put, despite his promise. Or to care that running off on his own like that would make him a hypocrite.”

Neither the people around me nor I moved as the boy came to a stop, taking in the tent’s occupants with a faint smile.

“Good! You’re all here.”

Folding cross-legged in the dirt, Raimie rested his hands in his lap while Oswin stood at attention behind him. 

While worriedly scanning the kid, I noted that he looked… worn. Ever since returning from the Birthing Grounds, he’d been almost frenzied in his activities, more so than usual.

Speaking of which. Raimie had certainly chosen a good time to leave Tiro. With the mess he’d brought home with him—with Hadrion’s death—we’d needed to leave the hidden city before Tanwadur worked himself into a fury that would have seen everyone from Ada’ir forcibly removed.

Given Raimie’s state, perhaps the rumors about his involvement in Hadrion’s death were true. Perhaps that was why he’d looked so haunted in recent weeks. Had Nylion somehow caused the other kid’s death?

Somehow, I contained my shudder at the idea.

Perhaps something else was troubling the kid, though. I hadn’t seen him with Ren lately, which had been both a blessing and curse. Because of it, rumors of Eselan love magic had stopped swirling around the kid, and while that was helpful right now—Raimie would need all the support he could get when this ‘march’ of his inevitably failed—it would also impede my goals. I was walking a fine line between making sure Raimie was popular enough to stay alive but not enough to become king.

If Raimie and Ren had fallen into a rough patch, I had to wonder if it was permanent. Given the kid’s recent betrothal, I’d think that was so, but you never knew. Enough ‘kings’ had kept a mistress on the side in the past. I could see that happening here.

But out of all the possibilities, it was most likely that Raimie was stressed because of what he’d learned from Nylion.

“Please, sit,” the kid said, waving a hand in front of him.

All three of us men reluctantly joined him on the floor. Even Kaedesa left her corner to come closer.

When he saw her, Raimie was on his feet almost immediately, which had me flinching at the sudden movement.

“Oh, Your Majesty!” he said. “I didn’t think to provide you with the barest of comforts. My apologies.”

Snorting, Kaedesa said, “A little dirt has never hurt anyone, Raimie. And if you refuse to use my name, then at least get my title right. When it comes to you now, I’m ‘betrothed’, not Your Majesty’.”

Nervously chuckling, Raimie slumped to the ground.

“Of course. How silly of me. I apologize once more.”

Somehow, the kid had managed to sidestep publicly naming them as engaged. If I wasn’t so nervous, I might have been proud of him.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve asked for you when we’re weeks away from our destination,” Raimie said.

He had no idea, but no one was brave enough to put forth a speculation.

“Truth is, I’ll be ridiculously busy in the coming weeks with preparations and—”

He slid his eyes above our heads.

“—personal projects. I wanted to share the plan for Elisk with you while I have the time.”

So… he wasn’t planning on killing us?

“You have a plan?” Marcuset asked with a laugh. “Does it involve anything besides us dying in front of Elisk’s gates?”

Before Raimie could reply, I said, “Yes, I’m curious why we’re doing this instead of consolidating our power base, grandson. You’d have us go for the grand prize when we’re nowhere near ready for it.”

“I know,” Raimie said with an honest nod. “I’d much rather wait a few months before doing this, absorbing more towns and resources into our growing sphere of influence, but outside factors have accelerated my original timetable significantly.”

Glancing to the side, he made a face.

“What outside factors?” Gistrick asked, clearly annoyed.

With his face going even sourer, Raimie said. “Can’t tell you. They involve secrets that aren’t mine to share.”

Scoffing, Gistrick crossed his arms.

“Well, that’s bull,” he said. “You’ve never failed to tell us your plans in the past, even when you knew we might not approve of them. Hell, you told us you were a primeancer for Alouin’s sake, which is something you most definitely should have kept to yourself!”

“Why?” Raimie asked, cocking his head.

“Because- well-” Gistrick sputtered. “Because primeancy is evil! You took a huge risk when sharing your secret. You’re lucky your people are so loyal, otherwise you’d be short a couple thousand soldiers by now. I know that I seriously considered leaving after I learned about it.”

I could not laugh right now. Gistrick’s current indignation was a total reversal from the stance he’d held when Raimie was a child, back when the kid could dance circles around him while using Ele. At the time, the Zrelnach commander had seen primeancy as an asset that his student should exploit to the fullest.

Look at him now.

“And that hatred and mistrust is why I waited to share the truth until it was dragged out of me,” Raimie said. “I didn’t magically gain mastery over Ele and Daevetch in the hours before the beach battle. I’d practiced in secret while hiding my powers for months before then, albeit not very well at times. I do occasionally keep things to myself—I promise you—and as I said before, I can’t share the secret in this case because it’s not mine. Don’t bother asking whose it is either. You’ll only end up frustrated.”

“Fine,” I drawled. “You want us to assault the capital of Doldimar’s domain long before we’re ready for it because of unknown factors that you won’t share. What’s the plan?”

With an abashed grin, Raimie shrugged.

“I don’t know!” he said. “You’re the ones who’ve analyzed this problem over the last few weeks. I’m sure that during that time, you’ve devised a few viable battle plans. Pick the one with the least projected casualties and enact it. The assault’s only serving as a distraction anyway.”

“For what?” Marcuset asked.

Making a face, Raimie said, “I plan to fulfill the damn foretelling. I’ll kill Doldimar and ‘return our land to peace and prosperity’.”

Finished, he wiggled his fingers in the air.

“That’s it?” I asked. “That’s your plan?”

“Mmhmm. Hope you like it because it won’t change,” Raimie said.

With a tired groan, he stood and brushed dirt off of his uniform.

“Discuss amongst yourselves, if you like. I have other tasks on my agenda tonight.”

He turned to the only woman in our midst.

“Kaedesa, would you be so kind as to join me? We should discuss how badly you want to commit Ada’ir to my beleaguered cause, now that you know the full situation.”

Springing to her feet with a twinkle in her eyes, Kaedesa said, “I’d love to walk with you. I’d also love it if you regaled me with this foretelling you were talking about. I remember you mentioning it in Daira, but… where did you find a seer? They’re so rare!”

“I’m sure we’ll discuss many things this evening,” Raimie said. “After you.”

Extending a hand toward the tent flap, he bowed, and the queen of Ada’ir skipped outside, followed by Oswin. Once the flap had closed behind them, Raimie woodenly rose from his bow with a change sweeping over him. His posture shifted, and a deceivingly relaxed stance took hold of his body, solely betrayed by the tension in the shoulders. He faced us and such hatred! I flinched from the loathing I saw in those dilated eyes.

“Nylion,” I breathed.

Ignoring my exclamation, Nylion raked his gaze over us.

“You should know that the only reason you are still here is because of your high stance among the soldiers,” he said. “Getting rid of you now would leave such a sizable power vacuum in the army that it might collapse on itself. Your tenuous roles and Raimie’s attachment to the idea of delivering justice—”

He rolled his eyes as he said that word.

“—are the only things staying my hand. No matter how vexing I have found it to this point, I will continue with letting Raimie decide your fates because he has always been the nobler one of us. Do. not. make me regret it.”

He’d punctuated his last words with finger jabs, capturing each of us with his glare. Then, he turned on his heels, jogging to catch up with Kaedesa and Oswin.

“Shit,” Marcuset muttered.

Shit indeed. I’d hoped that Aramar had been wrong with his warning, that we wouldn’t need to contend with the Nylion problem in addition to everything else.

“At least he didn’t outright attack or scream at us. That’s… different,” Marcuset soon continued, “but still. What do we do now?”

“I thought that was obvious,” I said. “We’ll play the faithful vassals for now. It’s all we can do until another option presents itself.”

“Even if that means following Raimie’s reckless plan?” Gistrick asked.

“To be fair, his plans have worked in the past, no matter how reckless they’ve seemed,” Marcuset said. “Look how far he’s led us!”

“So, maybe his strategy for Elisk will work as well,” I said, “but if the battle goes poorly, I’m sure Raimie won’t blame us for retreating if it will save lives. We have an out.”

“Shit!” Marcuset said again, clutching at his head. “How did things end up this way?”

We sat in uncomfortable silence until Gistrick cleared his throat.

“If it helps, I have an idea for solving this problem,” he slowly said. “It might involve doing some morally ambiguous things, though, and I'd need to leave camp for a few days while we march. You two might need to cover for me, if Raimie asks where I've gone.”

He had an idea? That was new. Usually, Gistrick liked following someone else’s lead, which was why I’d found Ferin’s death so unfortunate at the time. It had put a foot soldier into a commander’s position.

“Whatever it is, I think we can stomach it,” I said. “Anything to get us out of this mess.”

Marcuset hesitated, but it didn’t take him long to reluctantly nod.

“It can’t be something that will kill him, though,” he insisted before hugging himself.

“Of course not,” I said, looking over my friend’s head at the Zrelnach commander. “We’d never want to do that.”

When Gistrick inclined his head, I pulled my lips into something between a grimace and a grin. At least one of my companions understood how awful this mess might get by the end.

“All right, my friends!”

I slapped my knees.

“Let’s play the dutiful soldiers and pray that Elisk isn’t as well defended as we’ve been told.”

Chapter 54: While on the Way Part Two

Raimie

 

I didn’t want to catch up with Kaedesa right now. I’d much rather head into the wilds, where I could get started with the only thing that had helped me find sleep for the last week. It would even be nice simply to continue trailing behind her and Oswin, watching her chat with him in a carefree manner while he stiffly replied.

But at the moment, the queen was my people’s most powerful ally. I needed to make sure my relationship with her stayed as stable as possible, for their sake, and when it came to this, I couldn’t let myself feel any emotion. I must shut out the parts of me that screamed for Ren, Ren, REN! The only safe woman I’d known.

So, I reached Kaedesa’s side, ignoring Oswin’s quietly relieved sigh, and I smiled, no matter how fake that expression had felt on me in recent days.

“Have you given up on us yet?” I asked.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, given your perspective—Kaedesa only laughed at that.

“I think things aren’t nearly as grim as you or your commanders believe,” she said. “Yes, we may be an attacking force with significantly fewer numbers than our enemy, but Ada’ir isn’t known as the military superpower of our world without reason, Raimie. Plus, you have the Zrelnach among your people, and you’ve gotten those notoriously secretive warriors to teach the rank and file their renowned fighting techniques. That’s not to say that your fears about this coming battle are unwarranted, of course. Just… try to look at your advantages too.”

I understood what she was saying. Truly, I did.

But I also looked at the ‘advantages’ she’d named and saw how they could ruin us as well. As we walked through the army’s encampment, no one among those three mentioned factions mingled with any of the others. Ada’ir’s loyalists camped on one side while my people had taken up another section, and solely because they were Eselan, the Zrelnach had been shunned by the other two groups, if only to a degree. 

We might have been marching together for a week—one long week since I’d accepted Kaedesa’s proposal and she’d announced that my ‘traitors’ had been an engagement gift for me all along—but lines were still drawn in the sand. I didn’t see how those divisions could be healed in the short time left before the battle, but I most certainly saw how they could cause problems once the fight had begun.

Even with that, I only said, “I see your point.”

Kaedesa laughed under her breath, but since she provided no explanation for that, I wasn’t sure what she’d found so amusing.

Eventually, I continued with, “So, you’re sure about helping with the battle?”

Stopping short, Kaedesa lifted her eyes to the heavens.

“Yes, Raimie. I have made my decision and let it be widely known,” she said. “I can’t take it back, no matter how much Pierdriel and you seem to want me to.”

Thank Alouin that man hadn’t joined us on this march, staying in Tiro instead. The one time we’d met had been more than enough for me.

“Since you’re so sure, I won’t ask you about it again,” I said. “My apologies if my insistence about it has bothered you.”

Chuckling, Kaedesa said, “It hasn’t. Trust me.”

She reached up to pat my cheek and-

“You’re such a good boy,” Auntie Kaedesa says while brushing my cheek. “I don’t know if I should let your father have his way. No one as sweet as you should become a trained killer.”

Frowning, I grab Auntie’s wrist when she draws away.

“You’re supposed to be telling me a bedtime story, not worrying,” I say. “So, tell me a story!”

She laughs before sitting beside me on the bed, throwing an arm around my shoulders as she draws a book onto her lap.

“That’s true,” she says. “So. Where did we last stop the story?”

I point at the bookmark, sticking above the top of a page and-

“So. Tell me about those foretellings you mentioned,” Auntie… no. Just Kaedesa said.

Blinking, I struggled to orient myself to the plains and people and campfires around me. I couldn’t focus on returning memories or Nylion’s pale face at the corner of my vision or anything but what was happening right now. I turned to… a woman who’d apparently told me bedtime stories when I was a child. And I was supposed to marry-?

Clenching my fingernails into my palm, I barely kept from vomiting, taking deep breaths until I could speak.

“You’ve never heard of the foretellings that shroud Shadowsteal in myth?” I said as mildly as I could.

Laughing, Kaedesa said, “I may have, but if so, they’d be written down somewhere, not stored in here.”

Tapping on her temple, she ruefully grinned.

“Why don’t you remind me about them?”

I’d rather not.

Still, I said, “Well, there are several of them, but only one is relevant to our current endeavor. It goes: Leaving chaos and order in his wake, Shadowsteal’s rightful bearer shall destroy destructions epitome, returning our land to peace and prosperity.”

“I see,” Kaedesa said.

Frowning, she tapped on her lips.

“Rather vague, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Yes, it is. They all are,” I said. “As for your question about the seer from earlier, I’m not sure who they were. These foretellings were made quite a while ago, so the person who foresaw them is probably long dead by now.”

Making a face, Kaedesa said, “That’s unfortunate. A seer would be helpful right now.”

“I’d certainly like to know the outcome of this battle before it begins,” I said, “but then, that would take away the intrigue and mystery around what will happen, even if it would also remove the fear. I’m not sure if the tradeoff would be worth it.”

“Or maybe it wouldn’t make things clear, given how vague the one you shared is.”

When Kaedesa glanced at me suggestively, I smirked.

“Fair enough.”

We walked for a little while longer before I deemed that I’d spent enough time on maintaining this increasingly difficult part of my life.

“Would you like me to accompany you further?” I asked. “Because if not, I have a lot to do before I can rest tonight.”

“Oh. Of course!” Kaedesa said. “Forgive me. I get lost in my thoughts more than I should. Please, take care of whatever business you might have. We can speak more tomorrow.”

Bowing to her, I said, ‘Thank you, Your Majesty. And good night.”

Even as her lips puckered—I kept forgetting I wasn’t supposed to call her that anymore—she made her own farewell, and I was released. Almost immediately, I headed for the edge of camp, ignoring Oswin when he clicked his tongue behind me. He hadn’t enjoyed the new activity I’d found myself needing.

Instead of commenting on that, I said, “Any updates for me?”

“No, sir. Things have still been quiet,” Oswin said. “We’ve seen no sign of an enemy army, coming to meet us, and the villages between us and Elisk are few and far between. I’m not sure what’s going through Doldimar’s head, but he hasn’t seen fit to head off our attack.”

“Maybe he’s drawn his people back to a more defensible position.”

Even as I finished saying that, Dim snickered into their hand, and I knew they were right. What living being, aligned with Daevetch, would wait to indulge in something as violent as a battle?

Shrugging, Oswin said, “Who can say?”

For a moment, he paused but then forged into an awkward subject, as he’d frequently had to do in the last week.

“Sir? How far out are we going tonight?”

Damn. I’d known he’d ask me that question soon but still.

“Not too far,” I said. “I wasn’t lying when I told Kaedesa I have a lot on my plate. Some of that includes sleep, at some point, but first, I need to… wear myself out.”

Or that was the excuse I’d been giving him for the last week at least.

“All right,” Oswin said. “And you’ll stay within range of my pistol, in case something unpleasant comes along?”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I promise to let you continue with being a good bodyguard, Oswin. I know how important you apparently find it.”

At the far edge of my vision, Nylion whispered, “It is because he cares.”

Which I knew. I wasn’t sorry for my sarcasm, though. I couldn’t be sorry for anything right now.

Once the encampment had fallen behind us—still clearly visible but with enough space between us and it—I stopped, mentally tracking the outline of a circle in the plains around us.

“I won’t go farther than the rise of that hill, over there,” I told Oswin, pointing.

He nodded, drawing his pistol and getting as comfortable as he could while still staying on guard. 

I pushed away my awareness of him, of practical problems, and of everything that kept me tethered on this plane of existence. Slowly, I fell away from the outside world, holding to it the bare minimum I needed to keep my body moving, and when I could, I reached out for Nylion.

His presence brushed against mine, and I flinched. Over the last week, something had been building in him, something… almost resentful. I wasn’t sure if that assessment was right, hadn’t seen fit to ask him about it yet, but whatever the sensation was, it was causing problems, more than those we were already dealing with. I felt the distance he wanted from me and wanted to cry, which he then felt and wanted to comfort me, but it also made him need more distance. I wasn’t sure how to break free of that vicious cycle, but I did know how to deal with the other part of my internal landscape that had been wrecking me lately.

Together, Nylion and I faced the tide of memories that we’d held off throughout the day. As they came rushing toward us, I dragged Ele to me, and I ran and ran and ran and ran and-

Chapter 55: A Sane Day

Doldimar

Waking to the horror of my life, screaming alongside my mind with my throat a blazing inferno and-


Do as you’re told, Arivor, and I’ll make your bad dreams and memories go away again.


Give in, and I become HIM, but I can’t take it anymore, I can’t take it, can’t take, can’t-

…Ok


-57th Cycle. One year, nine months, and eighteen days since domination of host’s mind

Tap, tap, tap, tap. The sound bounced around me, taking up all of my thoughts. 

Which made it difficult to focus on the inane worries of the man in front of me.

“-simple enough to overwhelm their defenses, Your Greatness. As far as we’re aware, they have a single, rogue Daevetch primeancer at their disposal. While he was enough to wrest the Birthing Grounds from our control, he alone can’t stand against the Enforcers’ full might.”

The black-eyed man seemed finished, which would be wonderful, but swallowing hard, he made himself continue.

“It would be especially easy to retake the pit if you joined us, Your Greatness.”

Tap, tap, tap. 

Where was that annoying sound coming from?

Looking down toward it—oh—I forced myself to stop jiggling my foot.

“Why would we want to retake the Birthing Grounds?” I asked, refocusing on…

What was this one’s name again?

When the weakling’s mouth fell open, I considered blasting a Daevetch bolt through that gaping hole and out the back of his skull. I could already envision the gorgeous blood splatter it would make on the far wall…

Off to the side, Corruption shook its head, and I made a face. The Enforcer must have thought my look of displeasure had been directed at him because he started babbling excuses at me. Sighing, I reached for the Daevetch bundle that was latched into thousands of points in the man’s body.

“Hush,” I said, squeezing at his Vice. “You’ve bored me for long enough today.”

While the Enforcer worked his jaw against the will that was keeping it closed, his face gradually turned bright red, which was interesting. I hadn’t seen that shade painted on someone in a while.

“I understand your concerns about how I’ve handled the rebel force that’s recently arrived on our shores,” I drawled, fiddling with the Enforcer’s Vice, “but none of you know the full scope of what’s coming for us.

“I do. In the past, I’ve fought E directly, like you want to do, and that method has never, never, never worked. I’m trying a subtler approach this time. The change in methodology may mean that many of you peons will die in the process of his defeat, but in the end, I will eliminate the threat, and those of you left standing can return to whatever it is you do when you’re not serving me. Now…”

Coming up blank, I paused. Really, I should try to remember some of these weaklings’ names.

“You. I want you to inform your fellow Enforcers that they’re to do nothing without orders from me. If I find out that any of you have disobeyed me, then so help me. I will come down from my tower and eliminate you all. You’re not terribly hard to replace. Are your orders clear?”

When I released my hold on the Enforcer’s Vice, only the enormous strength of will that had risen him to his rank kept him from falling to the floor.

“Yes, Your Greatness,” he stammered through a shuddering jaw.

“Good,” I said. “Now, get out!”

After stumbling into the shadows, the Enforcer vanished, and I stretched with a yawn. With that little inconvenience over with, I had no more meeting left for today. Maybe I’d have time to visit…

No. Couldn’t think about that now. 

So instead: maybe I could do something for myself before the day was over.

“Was that heavy-handed enough?” Corruption sarcastically said.

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I know you’ve existed since the dawn of time, Corruption, but even with your long existence, you have no idea how mortals work, do you?”

On returning to the project behind me, I folded my hands behind my back, running my eyes over troop distribution throughout this pathetic kingdom.

“The Enforcers have access to vast power, so much of it that they feel invincible,” I continued. “At times, they need me to slap them down, reminding them of who gave them their power and who could, in the blink of an eye, crush them like the bugs they are.”

“You could just as easily have bribed that Enforcer with more land or access to the human population,” Corruption said. “That might have kept him in line.”

“Yes, but that solution would fix only one symptom, not the underlying problem,” I said. “How like a Corruption splinter to jump straight to a bribe. Maybe if you were of aspect Manipulation or Coercion, you could understand, but you’re not, are you? I suppose that in this, you’ll simply have to trust your Champion. I have been doing this quite a while for you lot. Now, be quiet. I’m working on logistics for the next phase.”

Behind me, Corruption quietly hissed before spitting.

“I hate your sane days.”

Which only made me smile. Of course the splinter preferred times when the chaos of my mind consumed me. I was easier to handle when Corruption seemed like the only real and stable fixture in my life, but ‘sane days’, as the splinter had called them, were necessary if Daevetch wanted to have any chance at victory in my games with our dear protagonist, E. Thus, the force of nature’s reluctant concession of them, so long as I fed it misery and death. 

As for me, a clear head was certainly preferable to the alternative, but my greatest pleasure on these most wondrous of days came from watching Corruption sulk.

I really hated that little shithead, in case it hadn’t been obvious.

When my next interruption came along, I felt it approaching long before it reached my chambers. As it came closer, I flung the doors open with a touch of Daevetch. Beckoning the two weaklings on the other side toward me, I never stopped staring at the spread of pins in front of my face.

“Forgive me, Your Greatness,” a Kiraak said, bowing low. “This one insisted on speaking with you personally. They killed several of my squad in a quite… distinctive way before we decided to disturb you.”

When I cast a cold glance over my shoulder, my stomach flip-flopped, and I turned, allowing a little showmanship to peek through my natural inclinations. Of the two people behind me, the Kiraak seemed suitably awed and cowed, but I couldn’t read the stranger she’d been escorting. The figure was fully draped in cloth: white strips that even concealed their face.

“Dark Lord,” a venomous voice spat from within that cocoon.

Male, then. At least I had a probable gender.

Flicking my fingers at the Kiraak, I said, “Thank you, worm. You may go.”

“But Your Greatness! The danger-”

A cough cut off her protest. Damn but the Vice had been an exceptionally useful tool today. 

Forcing the woman’s legs to carry her out of the room, I slammed its doors closed. I appreciated that the weaklings were compelled to protect me, but in this case, when I could clearly protect myself, the directive could become… trying.

“Now then,” I said. “What are you?”

Stepping into the shadows, I let them embrace me, tugging me along until I reached my destination, and only then did I climb back into firelight. I stepped into my chambers behind the stranger, and it took him at least a couple of seconds to register my change in position. Not a primeancer, then, but the stranger did have good reflexes.

“The disgust in your voice tells me you’re not a fan,” I said. “Assassin, then? No one’s tried to kill me in ages.”

Spinning in place, the stranger took a step back, but if my intimidation tactic had worked on him, I couldn’t tell, all due to that all-encompassing mask. Fascinating.

“Doesn’t matter what or who I am,” the stranger said, “only what I can do for you.”

“And what’s that?” I asked.

When I once more stepped into the stranger’s comfort zone, he didn’t retreat, drawing himself upright instead.

“A rebel group has recently been plaguing you, more than the typical ones do at least. Correct?” he asked. “I can get you inside information about their plans.”

Oh… yes.

“I knew it!” I said, excitedly clapping. “You have E’s stench all over you. How is he?”

“I- I don’t know an… E.”

Even if I couldn’t see the frown surely contorting the stranger’s face, I could hear the confusion in his voice.

“Right. He’ll have taken a new name,” I said. “That other friend of his—the tormented, little spy—mentioned a… Rhylix, was it?”

I cocked my head.

“The kid also said this Rhylix was dead, which is an interesting tactic, but I guess it doesn’t matter. If I learn more about the rebels, I’m sure I could figure out E’s new identity.”

Not that I’d need this stranger’s help to infiltrate the rag-tag group. Still.

“None of that matters right now. What concerns me is you.”

My attack was over in a mere two seconds, but nonetheless, the stranger unsheathed his sword, retreating to give himself more room.

“Oh, stop,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Yet.

“I was only getting a Daevetch slip into your head.”

If anything, my reassurance further stiffened the stranger, and I waved at him to calm down. Why did people always freak out when I did this sort of thing?

“I’ll take it back once we’re finished here,” I said. “I find that having Corruption in a person’s system makes them more… honest.”

The stranger snorted as he stiffly sheathed his blade.

“That’s rich, coming from you,” he said.

“Yes, well. Truth has its place,” I said, smiling at Corruption’s bristled shoulders. “So, who are you? And what on earth are you wearing?”

“This?” 

The stranger pointed at his head.

“It’s an affectation from the place where I’ve been staying. A rather handy disguise, yes?”

Hmm. Did that mean the man wasn’t from Auden? Was he part of the invading force, then?

“I’m assuming that means you won’t tell me your name,” I said.

Even if the stranger refused to answer me verbally, the tilt of his head screamed his incredulity for him.

“How do I know you’ll provide me with useful information if you won’t even give me your name?” I said.

This was getting frustrating. I liked a good mystery and all—who didn’t?—but not when solving it would keep me from distinctly more important things on one of my few sane days.

“I can prove my value in other ways,” the stranger said. “Like this: the rebel’s leader is a man named Raimie, a descendant of the lost Audish royal line, all of which I’m sure you already know.”

Nodding, I quickly moved into another form of distraction, now that the stranger’s hidden identity no longer entertained me. Distractedly, I considered how best to dissect this man before his dismemberment would have him singing the unique notes of death. I’d start with that concealed face.

“I’m sure you’re also aware that he’s a primeancer,” the stranger continued, “but did you know he can use both sides of that unnatural magic?

Unnatural magic? Hello? Did this stranger realize he was speaking to someone who used that ‘unnatural magic’? Gods, what an idiot.

Wait…

“He controls Ele and Daevetch?” I said, barely restraining a squeak.

That would have been embarrassing, given the role I must play.

“How else could his army have taken the Birthing Grounds so easily?” the stranger asked. “He’s the one who snuck into the crater and built a staircase for his soldiers.”

That was an interesting bit of news. I’d assumed an Enforcer had broken free of my control before joining up with the rebels. Escaping like that wasn’t impossible, merely difficult, and I wasn’t sure which situation was more believable: that an Enforcer had gotten powerful enough to break the Vice I held on them or that our protagonist’s ally was a Daevetch primeancer.

“All right, then. Maybe I won’t kill you today,” I said, chuckling when the stranger flinched, “but you must tell me. Why would you serve me like this? You clearly loathe me, and I’d be surprised if you weren’t aligned with the rebels in some way.”

Taking a step forward, the stranger said, “I am. I want to see your kingdom fall, your work destroyed, and everything about you erased from the annals of time.”

Ouch. Harsh.

“I don’t, however, want to see one tyranny replaced with another—”

Those words had come out so muffled that I could picture the stranger’s teeth grinding together.

“—which is what will happen if Raimie’s the one to put you down. The dark energy he wields will eventually drive him mad, as it does for all of your kind, and once that’s done, another reign of terror will begin.”

For a solid five heartbeats, I waited for more words, but it seemed the stranger was finished.

“That’s it?” I asked. “You’d betray the man who’s given you the greatest chance to see me dead in centuries, simply because he’s a primeancer?”

What stupidity was this?

“How you must despise us.”

When the stranger stepped forward, I smiled, hoping he’d attack, but I was destined for disappointment.

“I have personal reasons for this as well,” he said. “I've hurt Raimie in ways he doesn't know about yet. He needs to die before he figures that out and takes his revenge on me, but I can’t be the one to kill him. I need you for that.”

“And in exchange,” I said, “you can provide me with the intel I need to stay ahead of my enemy.”

For once. I hadn’t been looking forward to spying through the shadows again.

“It appears we have a deal.”

While I turned back to my project, I noted the stranger pulling away from me. Ha. He was probably surprised that I’d accepted his proposal. Idiots like him usually went into situations like this hoping that the ‘bad guy’ would kill or hurt them in some way. Attempting something like this was usually a means of appeasing whatever doubts they had about their leader as well, and they never meant to follow through with whatever they’d offered. Once caught in such a bargain, they tended to agonize over whether to fulfill their newly made promise or remain loyal to their leader.

I’d be interested to see whether this one fell into that category or not.

“H… how do I-?” the stranger shakily said.

“Stay in contact with me?” I said. “Go to requisitions. They’ll give you a case of flasks. I’ll summon one of them to me at the end of each month, and once those run out, I’ll have someone deliver more to a suitable location.”

Already finished with the conversation, I moved a blue pin from the map’s corner to the center.

“Oh. You’re an-?”

“Eselan, yes. Didn’t you notice the hair or the eyes? How has no one ever learned learned about that?” I said with a sigh. “Although, I suppose I don’t get out much. And who would suspect that an Eselan would exterminate his own once he came into power?”

Stepping back, I glanced over my finished map with a critical eye. This troop distribution almost looked right. I’d need to shuffle a few more here and there but-

A cough reminded me that a stranger was in the room with me.

“You’re still here?” I said. “Go away! Unless. Is there something else you meant to tell me earlier?”

“Just that…”

The stranger nervously shifted in place for a moment before blurting out.

“Raimie has given the order to march on Elisk. His army’s four days out.”

“Oh. Two days later than expected. I could use the extra time,” I said. “Thank you, whoever you are! Keep in touch.”

When I yanked at the Daevetch in the man’s body, he gasped.

“Alouin damnit,” he muttered before striding out of the room.

I monitored his departure from the palace with something akin to pity. He so obviously hated everything about the ‘Dark Lord’ and his reign, but before long, the miniature Corruption kernel I’d left in his head would inspire nothing but loyalty to me.

A traitor deserved nothing less.

Letter: My Darling 2

My darling,

I’ve safely delivered our beloved Illasaya into the hands of the Audish royal family, and I must admit, my love, that I’m not comfortable with the arrangement. No matter that you’ve foreseen that this marriage will improve our odds in the end, I can’t help the pit of revulsion that afflicts me when I think of her with the nation’s crown prince.

The stupid boy failed to greet her when we arrived! Eventually, I had to introduce the two of them, an embarrassment for all involved. I realize customs about women are different in Auden when compared to Lyzencroft but really. The insult was almost too much to bear.

As you may have noticed, the prince’s accidental slight may have once more soured me against the man we must pin our hopes on. I’ll concede that he’s started to learn respect, taking his role somewhat seriously now, but he’s still a self-centered brat. 

Maybe I’m missing whatever it is you’ve foreseen in him. Maybe our princess will change him for the better. I certainly hope it’s so.

In the meantime, what can you tell me about home? By the time this letter reaches you, I’ll probably be back (and again, I must remind you that communication like this would be much simpler if you used your summoning magic), but I must know. What have our scouts been saying about the disturbances on the Haven’s fringe? Is it him? Are our troubles soon to begin?

After our recent scare with the dissident uprising, I hesitate to place every random uproar at his feet, but I can’t help my fear every time I hear of an Eselan village destroyed or a scouting party lost. Will this anticipation ever come to an end?

I’ll be home soon, my love, and you can tell me everything I’ve missed in person. Until then, I remain faithfully yours.

Chapter 56: Advancing on the Capital

Eledis

You know the old adage, ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’? Bullshit! Always inspect a gifted horse. You don’t know what awful diseases that mangy beast may be carrying.
-Unknown

Another two weeks of marching across Auden’s southern border passed, and then, there it was. After decades of strife and struggle, I laid my eyes on the city that had haunted my dreams since I was young.

Elisk didn’t look like I’d always pictured it. That was to say, the city itself matched my expectations. How could it not with its soaring walls and eclectic buildings, climbing a hill to the elegant palace at its pinnacle? The glass-like spires stretching above that massive building sparkled through the tears in my eyes.

What came as a surprise, however, was the spread of ramshackle shanty towns outside of the city’s walls. Reports—both from our scouts and Pointer—had briefly mentioned these, but they’d focused more on the city’s defenses than anything found outside. They’d failed to emphasize how widespread those flimsy hovels were. Alouin but they stretched for at least a mile!

Coming up beside me, Raimie asked, “Why are we waiting?”

“Our plan calls for a charge of the wall,” I said, “but we can’t charge through that mess without significant problems. I don’t like that we’ve run into a disruption to the plan before we’ve even begun it.”

Beside Raimie, his new friend, Ryvolim, snickered into his hand.

“I’m not sure why you brought the horses in the first place,” he chirped. “The Kiraak’ll just spook them.”

Frowning, I let a beat of silence carry the weight of my disdain for this man.

“And why didn't you mention this earlier?” I asked.

As Ryvolim leaned closer to me, his ever-present smile disappeared.

“Maybe I wanted to make you look incompetent, Eledis,” he said under his breath before rising with his irritating smile back in place. “Besides, the plan doesn’t need to change. Advance without the horses. You’ll be fine.”

For a moment, I could only stare at this man with my mouth hanging open. Then, I waved in front of us.

“Are we seeing the same battlefield?” I snapped. “Who knows what sort of traps and ambushes could be waiting for us in the chaos of those slums?”

“Doldimar doesn’t work that way.”

As Ryvolim changed his tone of voice, his eyes lost focus, drifting up and over my head.

“He enjoys a pitched battle, full of carnage and death. Picking off individual soldiers isn’t his style.”

“And you know this, how?” I said.

But Ryvolim only showed me a cagey smile. Frustrating man. I’d never understand why Raimie had made friends with him.

Surely the kid would know better than to commit to a charge. We should step back, picking another battle plan from the ones I’d drawn up. Our next best option would involve sending small, suicide squads against the wall as a distraction, something Raimie was guaranteed to disapprove of, but he planned to use the whole of his army in the same way. So, how could he complain?

“No charge,” Raimie said.

And I thanked Alouin for common sense.

“But we do slowly advance without the horses,” he continued. “At the first sign of unexpected resistance, we retreat.”

Was he joking? Please, say he was joking.

“Spread the change in orders,” Raimie told Oswin. 

The spymaster signaled the other soldiers around us, and while they took off, Raimie dismounted, followed by Ryvolim.

“Coming?” the kid asked.

Hell, he was going to get us all killed, but could I do anything else to change his mind? Probably not. I also climbed off of my horse, shaking my head at the stupidity of youth.

So it was that our rebel army strolled toward the fight to capture Auden’s heart. Made up of soldiers loyal to Raimie and those from Ada’ir, the army was bound by a tenuous link of betrothal between their two monarchs, and even now, the tension between those two sides was visibly palpable. Given this, I didn’t look forward to the coming battle. Already at a disadvantage in terms of numbers, we didn’t need the complication of an uneasy alliance adding to that tension, especially since Queen Kaedesa had opted to stay on the city’s outskirts with our reinforcements.

When we crossed into the sprawling shanty towns’ outskirts, the army’s pace slowed to a crawl. I quietly hummed to myself as I retrieved a spare handkerchief to secure around my head while the soldiers coughed and gagged.

“Are they trying to kill us with their smell alone?” one of them choked out.

Raimie quickly followed my example while Marcuset pinched his nose. Someone behind us threw up, which seemed a bit excessive, but what did I know?

Only Ryvolim looked unaffected.

“I’ve smelled worse,” he quietly said when glanced at.

I wasn’t sure how to describe it. Unwashed humans mixed with excrement and rotten food? Or maybe the smell was more akin to putrefying corpses. The trash heaped on the corners and sides of the makeshift streets explained some of the odor but the rest? Who could guess?

What I did know was that cities were supposed to stink—that was what happened when thousands of people were crammed into a few square miles—but this was barbaric.

When a shadow peeled away from a shack’s base, flitting across the street in front of us, I jumped. What had that been? Some unknown form of primeancy? One of Doldimar’s soldiers who refused to die?

A… girl?

She slunk into the sunlight, headed our way, and for the first time, I noticed the glittering eyes staring at us from the buildings on either side. The girl stopped well out of reach, which halted the front line, and I wondered if Raimie knew how many gazes drifted his way, waiting for him to take the lead on this.

He took two steps forward, making the girl tremble, before crouching to her eye-level.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Shifting in place, the girl defiantly lifted her chin.

“Are you here to hurt us?” she asked.

Rocking back, Raimie paused for a moment before gently taking her hand, folding it between his own.

“Why would you think that, sweetheart?” he asked.

“You’re armed and armored, but you’re not Conscripted soldiers or Kiraak,” she said. “We don’t know what you are, so we don’t know the rules. Are we supposed to play run and hide?”

“No! No, sweetie, you’re not…”

Sighing, Raimie hung his head, and as she waited for his response, the girl continually flicked her eyes to her captive hand.

“Then, what are the rules?” she eventually asked.

Looking up at her, Raimie firmly held her gaze with tightened lips.

“I want you and your friends to find somewhere safe, somewhere you can wait for a time,” he said. “Stay out of sight until I return. I don’t want you caught in the fighting. Can you do that for me?”

“So, we are playing run and hide?” the girl said.

“Yes, but this time, no one will hurt you,” Raimie said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Patting her hand, he rose to his full height, and with a wrinkled brow, the girl stared at him for a moment before darting off. As she did, Raimie turned in a slow circle, and I followed his lead, taking in the grime, the shacks that looked like they’d fall apart with a breath of wind, and the people who were too terrified to leave those deathtraps.

“These people need help, Rhy,” the kid said to his newest friend.

Ryvolim laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Eliminate the danger first, and then, you can help,” he said.

“I know.”

And that? It raised my suspicion again. Raimie didn’t make friends easily, especially not ones he’d feel comfortable sharing his quiet despondency with. In fact, only one man had ever claimed such a bond with the kid but… 

It couldn’t be, could it?

I’d already set my misgivings aside once. When they pestered me twice, I knew I should listen to them.

As we moved closer to the city, I said, “Rhylix!”

And Ryvolim, the peppy, distinctly human being in front of me, the one who was the opposite of everything that had defined the reserved Eselan I’d known, half-turned before catching his mistake. 

It was enough. Alouin, my eyes might pop out of my head. That Eselan and the kid had pulled off the impossible, fooling me for so long. They’d faked Rhylix’s death.

But that meant…

Hell, how powerful was he? Adopting a human guise was no mean feat, and to maintain it for who knew how long took an exceptional kind of willpower as well as a deep magic reserve.

Slowing down, I let the two younger men pull ahead of me. I didn’t want to be anywhere near someone of such strength, especially when I’d blatantly celebrated his death while in his presence.

As if in response to my fears, Ryvol- no. Rhylix faltered in his stride, cocking his head.

“What? That’s not-” he said under his breath.

Hearing that now perceptibly familiar voice, I shrank. How had I never noticed it?

“What is it?” Raimie asked.

“Not sure yet,” Rhylix said, “but I don’t think that advancing was such a wise decision now.”

“Should we expect a fight soon?” Raimie asked.

In response, Rhylix drew his weapons, but despite his misgivings, we reached Elisk’s outer wall without further incident. What was waiting for us there, though, brought the army to a grinding halt.

The gate we’d been approaching had been flung open, and wind whistled through the empty square beyond, rustling through the ranks of the army that had come to break it down.

Chapter 57: This Is a Trap

Ryvolim

 

“What is this?” Eledis asked behind me.

Ignoring him, I irritably hummed to myself. The others, old man included, probably saw this open gate as danger, a trap, everything that would send lightning crackling through their bodies. I saw it for what it was: an invitation. Doldimar hadn’t used this tactic in ages and had only ever done so when Arivor still clung to control.

It was a statement, a taunt.

We don’t need these armies, these playthings, in our war. Come and get me if you can, E. Let’s do this, you and I, with none of the bullshit to confuse our true purpose.

The trouble was, I couldn’t feel my old enemy (friend’s) presence in the city, not definitively at least. This close, revulsion and conflict should be irresistibly dragging me down the streets. Instead, it tickled at the edge of my awareness, disappearing like a child playing hide and seek when I latched on.

“Rhy?” Raimie said.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I realized that my hum had risen in volume, almost to the level of a restrained shout.

“Sorry,” I coughed, “it’s just that…”

Turning one way and then the other, I grunted.

“I can’t feel him,” I growled, baring my teeth, “or I can, but not in the way I normally do when we’re this close. It’s like he’s jumping around the city, moving from one side of it to the other in an eyeblink…”

Trailing off, I smacked my forehead.

“He’s shade melding. Of course he is, the bastard. Always compelled to make things interesting.”

“So… what do we do?” Raimie whispered.

But he looked behind him as he finished speaking. He was right to do that, though. The soldiers were getting restless.

“Can you shade meld yet?” I asked. “I’m not well versed in a Daevetch primeancer’s progression.”

“I’ve never thought to try. Can’t you just-?”

Shooting his hand out, Raimie grabbed at the air before jerking it back, and I blankly cocked my head, making my friend huff.

“That thing you did in the forest,” he said. “With Teron.”

“Oh! Right,” I said, chuckling. “I wish I could pull him out of the shadows like that, but I’d need to be near his point of ingress to do it, and I don’t think I’m likely to stumble onto one, do you?”

Making a face, Raimie said, “In that case, I guess I can try to shade meld. Dim can teach me how. When we find Doldimar, I can pull him…”

He paused as if listening.

After a moment, I said, “Well?”

“Dim says that’s an exceptionally stupid idea. If I tried to dive into the ‘atomic level of reality’—”

Raimie scrunched his face up with confusion.

“—I’d lose my way almost immediately. I don’t have the necessary willpower for it yet, apparently.”

Damn.

“I don’t know how to force him out of the shadows, and without a battle to distract him, he’s sure to know that I’m here by now. Soon, I won’t feel his presence anymore,” I said before sheepishly smiling at my friend. “Looks like I dragged you to Elisk for no reason.”

Grinning, Raimie said, “Not true. Are we seeing different pictures here? Gate wide open, lack of resistance, very little Kiraak—if any—in the city? It’s obviously a trap, but even still, I can’t help but think that Doldimar’s handed Elisk to us on a silver platter.”

Oh, gods. Raimie couldn’t know the subtleties and long-term plans that the Champion of Daevetch might have in store. This, the lack of a fight for the city, was much too painless, and I’d never seen it before. My every instinct screamed to retreat. Elisk wouldn’t be worth the price that Doldimar would eventually exact for it.

Throwing my head back, I drank in a wisp-covered blue sky. It was too bad. Today would have made a fantastic final day for this cycle.

“Raimie-” I started.

“What are you two blabbing about up here?” Eledis said while joining us. “Have you come to a decision?”

“About?” Raimie asked.

Rolling his eyes, Eledis said, “Whether we’re taking this city or not.”

“Raimie-” I tried again.

We needed to retreat.

“We’ll move forward,” my friend said. “Spread out, and if anyone encounters unexpected resistance, fall back."

When he looked at Oswin to spread the order, the spy nodded.

Oh, well. Now that Raimie had made his decision, I couldn’t voice my doubts. When in a situation like this, an ordinary man such as me didn’t question the king, no matter that we were friends. I hoped the cost for his choice wasn’t too high.

“Rhy, you and I have somewhere to be,” Raimie said.

Frowning at him, I said, “We do?”

“Sure. I only feel one, concrete Daevetch tangle, up in the city’s center,” Raimie said. “I figure that if Doldimar plans to contest our capture of Elisk, it’ll be there.”

Hearing that, I could kiss the kid. With hope offered to me, I fell upon it, hungrily devouring it whole. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the city’s awful stench and felt the sun on my skin. Perhaps today would be a good one to end the cycle with.

Then, something Raimie had said hit me over the head like a mallet.

“Wait. You can feel Daevetch knots?” I asked. “From this far away?”

Snapping my eyes open, I ran after my friend.

“If I’m looking for them, yes. That’s how I know the Kiraak have abandoned the city, unless they’re in the cluster I’m feeling, of course. In which case, we’re screwed.” Raimie said. “Why? Can’t you feel them?”

“Raimie. I’m the Champion of Ele,” I said. “What do you think?”

“Sorry,” Raimie said, raising his hands. “You seemed surprised, is all.”

“That’s because most primeancers can’t feel primal energy unless it’s in their immediate vicinity.”

Snorting, Raimie shot a smirk at me.

“Yeah, well. You know how much I enjoy breaking the mold, Rhy,” he said. “By the way, should we be talking about any of this right now?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the soldiers tromping in our wake.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a norm right now. Your disguise?”

Half-smiling, I shook my head.

“Oswin knows Ryvolim is Rhylix. Eledis figured it out as we were approaching Elisk. Despite orders to the contrary, Oswin’s most likely told the other members of your Hand, which DOES NOT MAKE ME HAPPY,” I yelled at the spymaster. “And the rest of the soldiers accompanying us are too far back to hear the specifics of our conversation.”

Raimie whipped his head to look behind us.

Tracing a finger between me and the others, he said, “How did you…?”

“The unique patterns of their footfalls,” I said in deadpan.

That joke was a much easier explanation than the truth. After months together, I’d spent enough time with these people to distinguish between their unique Ele sparks, those slivers that every human and Esela carried within them.

Oswin’s bore strong flavors of Loyalty and Innovation while the rest of the Hand wildly ranged. Little claimed Courage; Ring, Resilience; Pointer, Love; and Thumb, Law. I couldn’t hope to differentiate between the dozens of soldiers who followed us, but at the very least, each of them strongly resonated with Devotion, a flavor that all of Raimie’s soldiers had.

And Raimie, the one who walked beside me? Of the many people I’d known in my long life, my friend was the most diverse in terms of Ele. He held so many of Ele’s aspects that it hurt to reach out and sense them, and the one that most intensely blazed from him switched on a near hourly basis.

Where once this conundrum might have puzzled me to distraction, now I accepted it as part of the overall mystery that was my friend. The Ele jumble currently matching my stride might never be steady, but if I could name the multitude of Raimie’s aspects as one, I would call it Comfort.

At that thought, I smiled. Ele might be in the process of abandoning me, but I had a few tricks still hidden up my sleeve. I wasn’t completely helpless yet.

And I had a deeply loyal friend for when that eventuality occurred.

While striding up Elisk’s hill, I noted the fine craftsmanship of the city’s homes, the smooth cobblestones that paved not only its streets but the alleys as well, and the gas lamps on every corner. This cycle had reached an inordinately high level of technology before Doldimar had arrived to lay it low.

I also noted furtive glances through curtained windows and the jerk of doors closed. Some humans had survived within the walls alongside those without.

When we encountered the first body, the tiny flicker of hope that I’d been nursing since the gate was snuffed out. Compared to past cycles, the death toll this time around hadn’t been high, and to be honest, it still stayed quite low in comparison, even when adding in these bodies, but the rest of the group grew increasingly distressed with each corpse we found.

The final resting places of the dead were in the most random of locations: one lying on a porch in peaceful repose, one in itty-bitty pieces strewn across a yard, one propped against a stake driven into the middle of the road. In all states of decomposition, some looked alive with the flush of blood reddening their cheeks while others were bloated and gray with flies circling them. We even found sets of picked-clean bones next to a community well.

“What is this?” Raimie breathed.

That question had probably been rhetorical, but I answered it anyway.

“Kiraak and other beings influenced by Daevetch can’t go for long without killing something or someone. It’s a wonder you haven’t given in to the need yet.”

Raimie rounded on me.

“I would never do this,” he growled.

“I know,” I said with a nod. “I didn’t say that I couldn’t believe you hadn’t, only that your resistance is a wonder. You’d never end a life to appease Daevetch. You’d rather die yourself.”

Raimie regarded me for a painfully long time before turning on his heels, seemingly casting off my comment.

“Not long now,” he said under his breath.

Chapter 57: Horror Left Behind

Ryvolim, Eledis

 

Ryvolim

Raimie had been right about our pacing. Soon, we turned a corner, and the palace claimed the group’s focus. 

Now, that building. That was an impressive piece of engineering. Made entirely of obsidian glass, one would think it unstable, ready to crumble at the slightest movement of the earth, but every surface had been coated with a clear, resin-like material, one that strengthened the underlying obsidian’s typical fragility. Even though it had been constructed in a fashion common to this cycle with buttresses and corbels aplenty, the palace’s black material made it look alien in this city of gray stone and white plaster. Its five spires, greedily reaching for the sky, didn’t help with its sense of otherness. If these humans only knew who’d originally built their architectural masterpiece…

Raimie didn’t pause on seeing this wondrous sight, so wrapped in his dogged pursuit of Daevetch that it passed beneath his notice. As he marched through the short wall that surrounded the palace, the group was forced into a trot to keep up with him.

“He’s headed for the gardens,” Eledis said beside me. “At least that’s what my research tells me.”

“He won’t find gardens there anymore,” Thumb said with a manic cackle.

The spy was right, which didn’t surprise me in the least. Doldimar hated beauty. It was a blatant reminder of everything he’d lost, and he destroyed it when possible, much as he had here.

At one time, the palace gardens had rested atop the hill that Elisk was built upon. Its renowned flower beds and hedges had culminated in a wall of windows, one that extended over a cliff edge and into open air.

Those gardens had been blasted away. Trees, flowers, grass, dirt; all had been scoured from the earth until only stone remained. In their place was a pit, an ugly monument dedicated to the glory of violence and death. A semi-circular chunk had been bitten out of the hillside, and benches were carved into its walls, save for a pair of portcullises on either side. Trap doors littered the path to the pit, entrances to the cages that contained the condemned participants of the fight.

All standard for an arena, except for the fact that it was sheared in two with one half exposed to a drop down the cliffside. It was a rather efficient means of body disposal in a place where they were so quickly generated. I’d hate to see the mess rotting at the hill’s base.

A second oddity distinguished this arena from countless others I’d visited before. From this distance, a giant blob appeared to rise from the arena’s floor, but as we approached, I recognized it as the source of the Daevetch knot. The oddity was too amorphous to be Kiraak and too large to be a single mass of dark energy. Protrusions were rising from its surface, and were those…?

With a dry mouth, I said, “We’re close enough, don’t you think?”

“What?”

Flipping to face me, Raimie grinned as he walked backward.

“Afraid of a little Daevetch?” he said.

“No, I just…”

I sighed. I couldn’t shield my friend from this.

“At least leave the soldiers here,” I said. “They couldn’t help in a battle between primeancers.”

And we shouldn’t subject them to this.

“Not a bad idea,” Raimie said. “Have them form a perimeter, would you, Oswin?”

“Yes, sir,” the spymaster said with a salute.

“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving us behind, like you are with them,” the female member of the Hand said.

“If you’ve decided to follow me, I can’t exactly stop you, can I?” Raimie said, rolling his eyes.

But then, he frowned, scanning the people behind us.

“Did anyone see where Eledis went?” he asked.

Shrugs and negatives rose all around, which deepened the furrows between Raimie’s eyebrows, and oh, how I wanted to let his grandfather distract him, but much as I hated it, we couldn't avoid what was waiting for us in the pit. Even if we sidetracked him now, my friend would encounter this scene at some point today.

“Eledis can’t run into much trouble by himself,” I said. “He’s quite capable of defending himself . We should keep moving.”

And get this over with.

“Fine by me!” Raimie chirped.

When he faced forward again, however, his pace slowed down.

“What is that?”

Gods, the horror in that question!

The Hand and I had successfully distracted the kid, getting us to the arena’s edge, but our efforts had resulted in an exceptionally clear view of the mound when he turned. Heedless of danger, Raimie raced down the stands, leaping from seat to seat in his haste to reach the bottom.

I followed him much more slowly, reluctant to take a closer look. I forced myself to gaze upon Doldimar’s work, though, because in some small way, I was responsible for every atrocity that my enemy (friend) wreaked upon the world. My experiment had brought this curse down upon us, and the torment of living as Daevetch’s Champion was what eventually drove Arivor mad every cycle.

The smell hit me first. When we’d entered the palace grounds, I’d noticed a faint unpleasantness, but without the arena’s walls to contain it, the stench of decay smacked me in the face like a lover spurned.

Comprehension came next. I’d known the lump would hold bodies, but until this point, my mind had refused to believe what had been done to them, despite how many times this had happened before. To my eye, the mound looked like a perfectly-shaped, red and white cube, an abstract sculpture on the arena’s floor. Dark tendrils flickered across its surface—Daevetch—and I pieced together that a white sphere, floating in one corner, had teeth in it, shifting the picture in my head.

Someone had smashed who knew how many people into paste, binding the resulting mess into a neat Daevetch package.

Raimie had turned to stone in front of the cube, staring sans a single blink at the sand in front of it, and I approached him with caution. Once I was within arm’s length, I laid a hand on my friend’s shoulder, which made his fingers twitch.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

It was a silly question; I knew. How could anyone be ok after seeing… this? Still, I'd asked it, a subtle reminder that decent people still existed in the world.

What had been holding Raimie’s attention lost its attraction, and he marched toward one of the portcullises. Before chasing him—gods, he’d need a friend nearby for a while—I took his place and tightened my lips.

Written across the sand was a message, meant for my friend.

‘A second gift, dabbler of both sides. More to come.’

“He won’t find survivors,” someone said behind me. “Judging from the size of that… thing, the pens will be empty. At least Thumb and I got some of them out before… We should have done more.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” I told the other man.

I might also be talking to myself.

“Doldimar’s actions are his own.”

“I know but-”

“But you’re a good man, Pointer,” I said, “and you can’t help feeling guilty, even if you did nothing wrong.”

Pointer was quiet, and after a moment, retreating footsteps told me that I was alone in front of the cube. 

Where was the horror, the rage, or even the sorrow that I should feel at this slaughter? All that this massacre prompted in me was quiet resignation. Had I finally seen enough senseless death? Was this the final straw needed to break my-?

Doldimar’s presence firmly asserted itself somewhere nearby, and whirling, I looked up, up, up…

There, on the palace’s top floor and behind the window wall. A striking Eselan with blonde and blue hair, clothed from neck to toe in black leather.

Lifting a ruined hand, Arivor jerked it in a wave, and I instinctually copied him. Gods, why did he always get the good looks?

As my friend (enemy’s) mouth twisted into a sneering smile, he gestured and… oh, fuck. No, no, no!

I spun toward the cube as the Daevetch holding it together joyfully raced back to its master, and without the energy needed to support it, the mess behind that artificial wall fell apart. It smashed into me and-

A river, an ocean, a TIDAL WAVE of blood all around and my family’s corpses in the mix and oh, gods, I’ll never escape and I’ll drown, I’ll drown, I’ll drown and a muffled voice calling a foreign name and Alouin, what did Raimie say to call him if he lost it and-

“ERIADREN!”

I stared at my knees, tearing at my hair. A high-pitched whine filled the bubble that I’d formed between my chest, head, and thighs, but as soon as I noticed it, it stopped. What had happened? Why was I huddled in a-?

Leaping to my feet, I lobbed an Ele bolt at the palace’s top floor.

“You son of a bitch!” I shouted.

Of course, Doldimar wasn’t there to receive my attack. He’d probably shade melded away as soon as he’d observed the results of his handiwork.

“That’s the last time I tell you any secrets between cycles,” I growled to myself.

“You done?” Oswin barked behind me. “Because we need help here!”

When I faced him, my breath caught. I hadn’t been the only one caught in a wash of blood and bone. Oswin was painted red from his feet to just above his panicked eyes, and in an exact match of his bodyguard, Raimie was…

For a moment, I stupidly blinked, uncomprehending of what my friend was doing, before jolting into awareness. Having laid a latticework of pulsing shadows over the arena’s tiered seats, Raimie was systematically smashing them into rubble. With stone tumbling free, dust had thickened in the air, and while I watched, a loosened portion of the stands nearly crushed Little beneath it. Only the spy’s quick reflexes saved him.

“I’ve got it from here!” I shouted over the rumble. “Get your people out while you can!”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

Oswin’s subsequent shout to his subordinates barely carried over the noise, but the four other Hand members heard it. All five spies raced up the stands, hurrying to reach the top before the steps were disintegrated.

Advancing on my friend, I shouted, “Raimie? What are you doing?”

A wild grin danced over my friend’s lips but gods, the fury in those eyes…

“I’m showing Doldimar what I think of his gift,” he growled.

At his wave, the second half of the stands crumbled into dust and debris.

Hell. I needed to bring my friend down from this rage-filled high and quickly at that.

“Great. You’ve trapped us in here,” I said, trying to sound lighthearted. “Now what?”

“Now, we give these people a proper burial.”

Sprinting away from me, Raimie leapt in bursts of light from boulder to boulder, steadily advancing up the destroyed seats, and I was forced to follow, although I ceased my use of primeancy when the pit’s lip loomed above me. By the time I climbed over the edge, Raimie had knelt with his palms flat on the ground, sending a first Ele pulse into the hill.

When I turned back to the pit, I heard a laugh pass through my lips, but I was too busy watching what Raimie was doing to care about it. The stone and sand that had composed the pit’s floor had started flowing like water, and like a stream during a flash flood, the earth splashed upward, eagerly climbing for the hole’s surface.

Gods, Raimie would be magically spent for days after this. Sure enough, when I checked on him, he was shaking like a leaf, and all color had drained from his face.

He locked eyes with me.

“Help. me,” he said through gritted teeth.

After scanning our surroundings, I saw no unwanted observers nearby, so I joined Raimie on the ground. When I shot a questioning glance at Creation, they shrugged.

“No harm in trying,” they said.

Fantastic.

Reaching inside for my source of peace, I found it buried even deeper beneath a growing load of horror, but once I did, I carefully cracked the seal on it. Ele burst forth in a flood, but when compared to what I’d unleashed during the beach battle months ago, it was a contained rush.

Focusing it on the wound in the hill’s side, I bade Ele to restore, restore, restore! Earth quickly filled the hole behind me, and once it had finished with that task, I sent white light streaking across the hill in search of grass and flowers and shrubs and trees. Wherever Ele found a spark of growth, I breathed Life into them, and they sprouted. Grass spread with a mind of its own while seeds, acorns, and nuts vigorously budded. A carpet of plant life marched up and over the stone precipice.

As usual, reining Ele in took more focus than it should, becoming a struggle to squeeze a force of boundless presence into a tiny bottle, but I managed it without Ren’s help this time. The seal snapped into place, and gasping, I opened my eyes.

I’d been transported into a forest’s midst. Wild trees shaded us from the sun, grass rose to mid-shin on all sides, and flowers were peppered across the plants around me.

“Whoops,” I said under my breath. “May have gone a bit too far.”

“It’s beautiful,” Raimie said. “A wonderful way to honor the fallen.”

My friend was heavily leaning on Oswin with his legs shaking.

Climbing to my own feet without help, I said, “You should never use magic like that, Raimie. It’s really, really stupid.”

“Good to know you care,” Raimie said with a grin, “but you should worry more about yourself right now, yes?”

Should I? Yes, spending that much Ele at once had made me dizzy as hell, and I thought I might throw up if I stayed on my feet for much longer, but I was used to this. It had happened quite often before. So, what was Raimie worried about?

“Why’s that?” I said.

My friend pointed behind me to where a crowd of people, both civilians and soldiers, were standing. Gaping mouths and white eyes formed a discombobulated line from the palace’s wall to the forest’s fringe, and in some, I read fear while others displayed only awe, but all of them were firmly fixed on me. How… wonderful.

“Couldn’t have lasted much longer with so many big mouths knowing the secret,” I said with a sigh. “Goodbye, Ryvolim. Hello, Rhylix once more.”

Releasing the shape change, I faced my friend while the transformation worked its magic on my body.

“I’ll need a bed now,” I said.

And promptly collapsed. One member of the Hand—Little?—leaned over me.

“How can we help?” he asked.

I weakly laughed, and an energy drain hit me so hard that I blacked out.

Eledis

The room I’d entered echoed my footfalls back to me, but I hardly noticed that noise, too wrapped in echoes of the past to care about those from the present. From this palace, a family had provided stability and protection to a realm of various people for generation, but here, Doldimar had ripped their power and privilege away from them.

I’d found this bedroom after wandering for a while. At some point during that time, the palace had momentarily rumbled, and I’d briefly worried that despite what we’d anticipated, the fighting had begun, but the vibrations had quickly stopped, relieving that fear.

Walking down these cathedral-like halls had been like traversing through a long instance of déjà vu. The familiarity that I felt with this place was foreign, but I didn’t protest it.

I could hear the patter of feet and children’s giggles with adults’ outraged exclamations chasing that delightful noise. The low roar of conversation and the tinkle of champagne glasses had rung in a cavernous hall, adorned with tiled flooring, frescoes, and chandeliers. The throne room had carried the long-dead voices of criers, announcing visitors and issuing proclamation. The study with a wall of windows…

Well, that room had been too strong of a reminder of my father, a man who’d loved such views. In there, I’d heard only my brother’s pained cries and the smack of leather on flesh.

Then, I’d stumbled across this bedroom, and I’d been home. Small, cozy, surprisingly illuminated by a lit fireplace, it was similar in style to every place I’d laid my head before this long journey had begun. The fixtures and furniture might be different but the feel of it…

I shivered. An armchair was even waiting by the fire, exactly where I’d always liked it positioned. I wandered to it in a daze, overwhelmed by a sense of well-being after so many years of peril and strife.

A slim, black-dyed book was perched on the armchair’s seat, and seeing it, I stiffened. I rigidly switched places with that collection of bound pages, cracking it open once I’d gotten settled in the chair. Flipping through the journal, I absently scanned dates, followed by entries of various length, with a lump in my throat. When I reached the end, I paused. The story told in this book had ended poorly, but a few blank pages remained. Perhaps I could reverse the story, finishing it on a happier note.

I flipped to the final entry, intending to find some ink and a quill, but the words that followed the last line of text froze me in place.

Written in a meticulously neat hand, they read, “Enjoy it while it lasts, old man.”

Interlude 2: Arrogance

Heir to the Audish Throne

 

25th of First, 3467

I met my betrothed today. She was accompanied by the Eselan ambassador, an arrival that’s been delayed by almost six years. Apparently, the Eselan Haven has been dealing with an internal conflict in that time, one that’s only recently abated.

The woman I’m to marry isn’t of the Eselan race, thank Alouin. Her name is Illasaya, and she’s the first-born daughter of Lyzencroft's king. That nation also shares a border with the Eselan Haven. My father hopes that by intermingling our nation’s royal bloodlines, Auden can exploit Lyzencroft’s bustling trade partnership with the Esela.

But enough about the arrangement’s boring details. I’m sure you’d rather hear about my first impressions instead.

She’s… stunning. I can see why so many men have supposedly fallen for her before, but… she’s a bit odd as well.

When the ambassador’s party arrived today, I mistook the princess for one of the group’s guards. She was riding her horse like a man, in breeches and everything, and she even had a sword strapped to her belt! When greeting the group, I completely ignored her at first, which made our personal introduction slightly… awkward.

And she most certainly speaks her mind too! The first words out of her mouth were disparaging comments about the state of my home, followed by complaints about the long journey she’d made to reach it. To be fair, she followed that up with a few compliments, directed at me, but that first exchange of words sapped any glow I might have felt from receiving those.

Perhaps that was what she meant to do, though. Maybe she’s as skeptical of this marriage as I am.

In these moments, I miss my brother. Nebailie would help me figure out whether this princess is intriguing or intolerable, but he’s on the other side of the kingdom, hunting bandits.

I hope he’s gained some self-worth while serving in the military. Hopefully, some distance from court will have given him at least a chance at that.

But I so rarely hear from him. In my last letter, I begged him to come home during his next leave. I know he hates coming to court, and for good reason, but I need him now. My duties as the crown prince have overtaken every spare moment of my life. Alouin, I need someone I can share my frustrations with, someone other than a blank page that can’t talk back.

I should receive his reply soon, and maybe then, I’ll know how tolerable the next few months will be.

4th of Sixth, 3473

Today, I am a married man. Alouin, it felt so good to put that down on paper, so I think I’ll do it again. I’m finally married!

My wife has lived with us for the last six years, and while I’m grateful that courting and wedding preparations took as long as they did, giving us the chance to get to know and love one another, I’m glad to put the time behind us.

Illasaya is perfect in every way. She’s smart and funny. We enjoy so many of the same hobbies, and she’s gorgeous.

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve her. Perhaps she’s Alouin’s blessing upon me in place of a splinter’s presence. If so, I’ll take it. I’d trade the powers a splinter bestows if I’m allowed to keep her-

Forgive me for the abrupt pause, but it seems my wife has need of me. Until later.

14th of Third, 3476

My father is dead.

They tell me he died in his sleep, that I could have done nothing for him, but I still blame myself for what happened.

You see, I’ve been asking Alouin for his death over the last few months, ever since Nebailie came back home.

He and our father have always gotten along poorly, but since my father ordered Nebailie away from his military life and back to court, their relationship has deteriorated even further. Toward the end, my brother was well-nigh rebellious with father, saying and doing whatever he wanted rather than observing proper decorum. Behavior like that would have gotten an ordinary man thrown into prison, somewhere he could think on his actions for a while, but Nebailie only ever received a withering glare from our father.

My brother accidentally revealed the reason for his flippancy one night, when we snuck a bottle of whiskey out of the cellar, thereafter proceeding to get thoroughly drunk. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but at some point, his shirt came off. I asked him if he’d earned the scars crisscrossing his back while fighting bandits, and he broke into hiccupping laughter. When I asked what was so funny, he shook his head and said they were wounds from a battle that took place much closer to home, and I remembered nights when my baby brother had come to bed after a ‘talk’ with father, shaking like a leaf. I remembered times when I heard strange noises coming from the rooms where they’d taken their meetings, and once I put it all together, I vaguely recall that Nebailie had to hold me down to stop me from murdering our father.

Ever since then, I’ve prayed for my father to die each night before I fell asleep.

Alouin, but it feels good to write that down. I’ve kept this sentiment hidden away from the world since that whiskey-sodden night, unsure who might read this journal when I’m away from it. I’m not stupid. I know someone does. When you’re not the king in this place, nothing you say or do is private, especially if you’re next in line to the throne, but now that my father is gone, perhaps I can write in here, uncensored. Perhaps I can-

 

As if honed into what I’d written, a priest from my new retinue stuck his head through the door of the room where I’d been waiting,

“Your Majesty?” he said. “It’s time.”

“Give me one moment,” I said, pushing my journal to the side. “I have a final prayer to say before we bestow Alouin’s blessing upon me.”

“Of course!”

As the priest left, the door thunked closed behind him, and I hastily stripped off my tunic and the heavy robes they expected me to wear throughout the ceremony. Slipping a box from its hiding place, I grabbed the shirt that helped me maintain the illusion of holding Ele’s power, donning it. As my fingers touched the tips of the sleeves’ gloves, both they and the parts of it over my torso brightly glowed, making its fabric disappear. Throwing my clothes on once more, I kicked the box into a corner and strode through the door.

As I came into view, several of the gathered priests gasped.

“Your Majesty!” the high priest said over them. “You don’t need to use your power until the ceremony!”

Lazily examining my hand, I said, “It doesn’t trouble me to do so. Should I not express adoration for Alouin in this manner, even when our circumstances don’t call for it?”

When I caught the high priest’s eye, I smirked. Try and refute that, you crotchety old man.

“Of course not, Your Majesty,” the high priest said. “I’d never think to discourage any such worship of our god.”

So you say.

Solemnly nodding, I said, “Then, let us proceed.”

The priests surrounded me, and we quickly crossed the  distance to the door that separated the hall of worship from the rest of the palace. Those doors were all that stood between my home and its easiest point of ingress.

As the high priest flung them open, I nearly faltered in my step with my breath stuttering.

Alouin but a lot of people were waiting inside, many of them staring or gasping at my lit-up form. Fortunately, years of practice kept my face serene and my feet moving despite the onset of panic.

Was I ready for this? Sure, I’d been training to assume the throne for my entire live, but did that mean I was actually prepared?

As we passed some of the nobles, I noticed my lips twisting into an unintentional smirk. I might or might not be ready to lead a nation, but I’d thoroughly enjoy making some of their lives difficult. They’d heaped trouble upon my brother throughout our childhood, and I meant to enjoy paying them back, when possible.

Speaking of Nebailie…

I checked, and yes, they’d actually obliged my request. Surprise, surprise.

Given, I’d threatened and cajoled far too many people in power to make sure this happened, but there Nebailie stood, in military dress, at the head of my honor guard. My mother had been furious when she’d learned about this, but honestly? I hadn’t and still didn’t care about that. I loved my mother, but she’d always had an enormous blind spot when it came to my brother.

As tradition dictated, my honor guard stood on the left side of the raised apse, and to the right, my wife was waiting, gorgeous as always. When our eyes met, my unpleasant smirk became something more genuine, a smile that she eagerly returned.

I couldn’t wait until later tonight. We’d have a lot of celebrating to do, and I knew she was looking forward to that.

Two little boys were standing beside their mother, and when I wiggled my fingers at them, my sons giggled. I’d long ago resolved that they’d never experience the same distance that I’d had with my own father. I’d make time for my family, no matter how heavy the burdens of monarchy became, damnit.

While the high priest climbed onto the apse, I paused before mounting the single stair myself, well-versed in the ceremony’s proceedings. Turning to face the audience, the priest spread his arms wide.

“Today is a sorrowful day, for today, we've lost a great man, a great king, and one whom Alouin granted leave to guide our nation into a time of unprecedented peace and prosperity.”

As if reflecting on the wonders that his god had performed through my father, the priest paused while I internally scoffed. My father had been many things, and an inspiring leader might have been top of the list, but he’d done it without the help of some invisible being.

“But this day is also a joyful one,” the high priest continued, “for today, we’ll see a new king ascend, someone who has already shown the mark of Alouin’s blessing.”

Again, he paused, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his melodrama.

“Kneel,” he said.

I might do as I was told, but the entire way, I kept my eyes locked on the high priest. Once this ceremony was over and I held the power I needed to do it, I meant to make some changes within the priests’ ranks. I had no intention of showing them my belly, like my father had.

“Do you swear to serve Alouin and thereby, all of his children, from the most common of serfs to the highest of nobles?” the high priest said.

“I so swear,” I said.

“Do you swear to protect Auden from enemies, both within and without, using all available resources up to and including your life?”

“I so swear.”

“Then, rise,” the high priest said.

Once I was on my feet, he continued, “Auden has no crown for its monarch. As a kingdom, we were founded to fight dark primeancy’s evil, leaving us no predilections for frivolity or flamboyant displays of wealth. Our origins do not, however, exclude the king of Auden from a mark of office.”

A lesser priest hurried to his superior with a cloth-encased bundle. As the high priest unwrapped it, a hush fell across the hall of worship. Delicately claiming the prize hidden within, the high priest lifted it above his head.

“Shadowsteal!” he roared with spittle flying from his mouth. “Slayer of dark primeancers and the evil aspects that give them power!”

When he offered me the sword’s hilt, I hesitantly took it.

At this point, the sword was supposed to light up, activated by the wielder’s connection to Ele, but I wasn’t a primeancer, no matter how much I pretended to be one. I, however, hadn’t spent my whole life dreading this moment without preparing for it as well.

As soon as I had hold of the blade, I whipped it through the air, as if testing its weight, but while doing so, I release my hold on the strip of cloth I’d torn from my shirt’s hem earlier this morning. It unfurled, and I flipped it over the blade’s point, catching the other end with my pinky finger at the cross guard. It had taken me months of on-and-off practice to perfect this move, but that practice seemed well worth it now. Wrapped in glowing cloth, Shadowsteal looked exactly like it was supposed to.

Unfortunately, the high priest looked a bit taken aback by my small step away from the ceremony’s traditional routine.

“What?” I whispered to him. “You said we’re a warrior nation. I’m only testing my newest weapon.”

Clearing his throat, the high priest said, “Yes, well…”

Shaking his head, he gestured expansively.

“Your new king, nobles of Auden!”

And they whooped and cheered and hollered, the hypocrites. I beamed at them, playing along, before stepping to the side next to Nebailie while Illasaya glided forward to kneel in front of the high priest.

“Did you bring it?” I whispered while my wife took her own vows.

Nebailie silently handed me Shadowsteal’s scabbard, and as the nobles cheered for their new queen, I gratefully sheathed the sword.

“Thanks, ‘bailie,” I said.

“My liege,” my brother said.

At that, I frowned. Alouin, I hadn’t thought about how much deference would soon be crowding my life. How long would it take for me to get used to that?

“Before you attend the party later, a man has been ridiculously insistent on speaking with you once we’re done here,” Nebailie continued. “Said it had something to do with our father.”

“Great! He haunts us even after his death,” I said with a huff.

Nebailie snorted at that.

So, once we’d filed out of the house of worship, I met with a squirrely-looking man instead of joining the revelers at the gala, as I might have wished.

“Forgive me for interrupting your celebration, Your Majesty, but I thought you’d like to hear my news as soon as possible,” he said. “I’m the Ring of your Hand, and over the last few days, I’ve been investigating your father’s death. You may have been told that he died of natural causes, but that’s what we always say after a king has died, as long as it remains possible to do so. In your father’s case, however, I’m afraid that hasn’t been the case. In short, I believe your father was murdered.”