A King's Caution Part Two

Book Two of Three

Chapter 59: A Kingdom at Peace

Raimie

When I woke up on my twenty-second birthday, I was aware of the day’s significance, much as I hated it. I was hoping the news that I'd brought home would distract anyone from doing anything to recognize the day.

Last night, I’d come home late from negotiations with the mountain clans, or the Matvai as they liked to be called. A lot of drinking was always involved in their bargaining, their drink of choice something they called vodka. Before I'd met the Matvai, I’d never tried the drink before.

I hated it. Vodka was quite possibly the worst thing I’d ever put in my mouth, but even still, I’d gagged my way through every round of it, intent on keeping from insulting the clans.

Gingerly, I sat up, pressing my fingertips to my temples as I scanned my surroundings. On seeing my familiar study, I sighed.

“Oh, good. I didn’t screw it up this time.”

The current round of negotiations was being held in the Matvai’s ceremonial hall, located deep within the mountains to the north.

Which were hundreds of miles away.

I couldn’t remember what had made me want to come home last night, but I did vaguely recall finding a thick patch of shadows after it had become clear that the negotiations weren’t going anywhere.

“Ring will be irate with me.”

After making the mistake of chuckling, I hissed, squeezing my eyes closed.

Last night might not have been the first time I’d slipped past a member of the Hand, but Ring always took this—a dereliction of her duties, as she called it—more seriously than the other four, although I didn’t fully understand why she felt that way. 

Ring wasn’t a primeancer. She couldn’t call on Ele to chase her rapidly vanishing charge, and she most certainly couldn’t shade meld after me, if I decided to travel through the shadows. It wasn’t at all her fault if she lost track of me.

Even I had difficulty using that particular skill. Shade melding was—how exactly should I put it?—unnatural. 

When I’d asked them about it several months ago, Dim had spent way too much time trying to explain it to me. They’d claimed that the world was made up of billions upon billions of invisible particles called ‘atoms’, and to shade meld, I’d need to force my ‘atoms’ apart, travel at atomic speed to my intended destination, and reassemble them upon arrival. At least, that was how I’d heard everything that Dim had said, even if I hadn’t understood them. The splinter had spewed mumbo jumbo at me for almost a quarter mark, growing increasingly frustrated, until Bright had interceded for them.

“Become one with the shadows, Raimie,” they’d said.

Which had made perfect sense to me. After trying this, I’d gone from my study to the gardens outside.

Once I’d broken through my disorientation, I’d caught Bright speaking with Dim.

“Mortals here need the analogy of the shadows for a reason,” they’d said. “They can’t comprehend the theory yet, not without the proper knowledge base.”

However shade melding actually worked, I avoided using it when possible. When I entered the shadows, ‘Raimie’ stopped existing. My essence of self disappeared, and I floated as one with the shadows. It was only ever through extreme force of will and occasionally, Dim’s help that I was able to break free, and when I could do that, I was, more often than not, nowhere near where I’d meant to go.

Maybe being drunk helped with the process, however, because here I was in my study, sitting on my bedroll over a vast chasm with only glass between me and it. Exactly as I’d planned.

Since no one was expecting me to be home for a few weeks, no fire was warming the study, which sent a shiver down my spine. Almost, I could hear a feminine voice starting up her typical soliloquy in my head—

“Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll be good. I promise to be good. Just be gentle. Don’t-”

—but as usual, I tuned it out as soon as I noticed it. I wasn’t sure what was going on with that. The voice had been popping in and out of my thoughts for the last few months, since shortly after we’d captured Elisk, but it was… strange. Unlike with Nylion’s voice, this one felt… foreign, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I couldn’t deal with it, not on top of everything going on with… him.

Fortunately, sunlight was dimly illuminating the room, which slowly smoothed out the prickles running over my skin. Pulling Ele to me, I stumbled through stacks of books, down a short set of stairs, and to the study’s door.

“Does anyone know where Rhylix is?” I shouted down the hall before wincing. “Gods, I hope he’s home today. Worst. hangover. ever.”

A maid, humming as she’d been meandering down the hall, shrieked and dropped the sheets that she’d been carrying, and groaning, I massaged my forehead.

“Apologies, my lady. I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said. “Could you please-?”

But when I lifted my head to meet the maid’s eyes, she was already gone.

“Great job,” Nylion said behind me. “Terrifying the help is a wonderful way to start the day.”

And there he was. As always when around my other half in recent days, my heart started fluttering in my chest with my head going muddled.

Gods, what should I say? A thousand thoughts raced through my head: how much I missed him, that we needed to sit down and talk about everything that we’d ignored, what I’d realized about him on a rainy day over one year and nine months ago.

But as always, I hid these things under a veil of feigned irritation.

“Oh, hush,” I said. “Are you here to insist that we send the people who hurt us away again? That’s all you’ve wanted to talk about when you decide to show up these days.”

Why the hell did I keep doing this to myself?

Flexing my fingers, I started up the stairs, and racing around me, Nylion climbed the last few steps backward.

“No,” he said, “I… I have decided to let that go.”

Hearing that, I almost tripped on the last step. He’d what now? Was…? Could we finally move on? 

For almost two years, it had been nothing but a building cycle between us. Anytime we were around Eledis or Marcuset or Gistrick, Nylion got angry, fuming at them, and as a result, I had to hold my temper throughout those conversations. Later, I reminded him of what we’d both decided after our memories had fully returned to us, and he conceded to that, but the anger remained. It had been festering between us with nowhere to go but toward each other, and I’d done my best to keep from directing it at Nylion. 

He’d been less successful with doing the same, not that I could blame him. Of the two of us, he’d always held more anger, and I knew how much he struggled with keeping it under control.

So, no. I wouldn’t get my hopes up about the possibility of him working through our inability to punish the people who’d hurt us. I. would. not.

“…Really?” I said, narrowing my eyes at Nylion. “You’ve pestered me about our ‘vengeance’ for the last two years and have decided to give it up now? Why?”

Looking away, Nylion shrugged.

“You think I have not noticed how much this argument is driving a wedge between us, but you are wrong,” he said, “and I… I cannot take it anymore. I would rather live with those three continuing on as if nothing has happened than lose you.”

I crossed my arms, on the one hand trying to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest and on the other, deciding if I believed him. One didn’t give up an obsession fueled by anger, not without an enormously compelling reason. Was our relationship as meaningful to Nylion as it was to me?

The fragile bond that we shared had further withered over the last two years of an argument neither of us had been willing to let go of. At times, I could have sworn that Nylion was just another person rattling around in my head instead of the extension of personality that he had been when we were kids. I remembered that time: ever knowing what Nylion had been thinking or feeling, and now, I rarely ever understood what my other half was doing, hence why I was unsure about this change of heart.

But. I wanted to believe that it was real, more than anything.

“All right,” I said, reaching for the first book on my desk. “If you’re not here to argue, then what do you want?”

Nylion spun full circle with his arms spread wide.

“Lo and behold, we have come upon the mystical beast called spare time. I figured you would go straight to your… hobby,” he said, cracking a smile at my souring expression, “and I thought… I could help. If you want.”

Oh, how I wanted.

“That would be very helpful,” I said. “Thank you, Nyl.”

“I do not need your gratitude,” Nylion said. “You should know that, heart of my heart.”

And there it was. Sure, that interaction had felt forced, like we’d been playing along to roles that no longer apply, but gods, that nickname. I’d missed t.

“I do,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean…”

No. Best not to go into any topics that had been sources of contention between us.

“Never mind,” I said. “So. You want to help me look through these books for clues about the Eternal War?”

Folding to the ground, I opened my book to rest it on my legs, nonchalantly leaving an open palm on my knee, and as I’d hoped, when Nylion joined me, he brushed his fingers along my hand, although he didn’t take it.

“It is what you will do, regardless of my help. Why should I not join you?” he said. “Where are we starting?”

Quashing a smile, I gestured at the book in my lap before flipping through it. Once it had been absorbed, I grimaced. Nothing useful there. It joined its brethren in the stacks around us. Reaching above my head for another, I followed the same routine.

We continued in this manner while the sun finished lifting its head above the horizon. Having Nylion nearby both helped and hurt my progress with this. Typically, I’d struggle through these books’ contents with such a massive headache to impede me, but with my other half helping, my naturally quick learning and reading rates accelerated, so much so that the hangover almost didn’t matter.

At the same time, being near Nylion had become… distracting. It didn’t matter that what I was seeing wasn’t a real representation of my other half. I had… things that I needed to say, that I’d needed to say for quite some time actually, but I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

Even with that, the simple task of sitting in Nylion’s presence was the epitome of peace for me. When we were like this, communing in a shared activity, waves of ease reverberated between us like a ball thrown with increasing velocity from one to the other. Comfort crashed down our dwindling bond, forcefully carving through its riverbanks, and I knew every connection that Nylion made from our current book to the ones we’d already looked through, just as I felt his nervousness.

And I knew that Nylion’s change of heart was true.

It wasn’t enough to repair the damage done, but this one, small spell together, devoid of distractions, gave me hope.

“We should do this more often,” Nylion said.

“Mm,” I lazily replied. “Why haven’t we?”

With a laugh, Nylion said, “Setting up a government does not give one much time to oneself. Or have you forgotten?”

“No. But surely… surely we could have made time for this.”

That was how I’d broach the subject. 

Setting aside my current book, I said, “I need to talk to you. Preferably where we won’t have this—”

Waving a hand through Nylion’s shoulder, I winced at the feeling of touch, even as I encountered no true resistance.

“—between us.”

Nylion’s eyebrows slowly crept up his forehead.

“So…” he drawled. “You want to…?”

Nodding, I said, “Can I meet you there?”

With a pleased smile, Nylion said, “Always, heart of my heart. I am always there.”

When I opened my eyes, Nylion was tapping a foot beside my head with his arms crossed.

“Took you long enough,” he said.

Making a face, I said, “Sorry. Getting to sleep took much longer than I thought. Anxiety apparently does that to you.”

“Hmm.”

With nothing else, Nylion offered me a hand up, but once I was on my feet, I didn’t release it, instead using it to pull my other half to me. With my arms around his waist, I rested my chin on his shoulder while a happy hum buzzed from me.

“Hell,” I said. “This is as good as I remember it.”

Even if Nylion was stiff as a board.

“What are you doing?” he tensely asked.

“What I’ve wanted to do since shortly after Vale,” I said. “You remember cleaning out that pack of Kiraak we thought were bandits?”

“Yes…” Nylion said. “I am… confused. Why are you-?”

“Just shut up and enjoy it for a moment, Nyl,” I said. “I know you want to.”

“I…” Nylion softly said.

But there was nothing more. He lifted his hands behind me, probably staring at them in the moment it took him to lightly press them into my back, but when he eventually did, they were trembling. Even still, I released a contented sigh.

Oh, it felt right. We were completely open to one another through our bond, and I was holding Nylion close. We were kids again, first experimenting with what we were separately while also knowing what WE were.

The situation was reversed now, of course. That oneness-as-two that had been so common for us when growing up had become… foreign, difficult to achieve even when we tried, while living separately felt natural. This was what being apart for so long had done to us, and again, I reminded myself of why I WOULDN’T tear apart the people who’d separated us.

But all of that didn’t matter right now. I buried my face in Nylion’s neck, trying to hide.

“I’ve missed you,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

Nylion tightened his arm around me.

“What are you saying?” he said.

“I’m saying…”

I pushed myself away from Nylion, if not out of our embrace. Could I say something so intimate to a part of myself? Was Nylion a part of me? We’d never thought to ask that question, always content with knowing that we were complete when together, and Nylion had been taken from me before questions like this would have bothered me.

“What are you, Nyl?” I asked. “I don’t care one way or the other. I’m only trying to clarify. Only trying to reassure myself that…”

Gods, there several were again. Godsdamn singular pronouns, used with Nylion, but he didn’t seem to mind. With his head cocked, he frowned at me, but the expression didn’t seem displeased, more… confused. Unsure.

“I do not know what I am,” he said. “I believe I am a person or entity that is separate from your psyche, but I do not know how that has happened. I also believe, however, that I am you, part of the we split in two. Why are you asking?”

Sighing, I deflated.

“Because if you ARE me or if you’re something that I made up, like everyone seems to think,” I said, “what does it mean that I want to…?”

I bit my lip, glancing at Nylion, so close to me.

“Want to what?” my other half said.

“Oh, fuck it.”

Grabbing Nylion’s head, I leaned forward and kissed him. It was almost angry, this press of my lips to another’s, nothing like I’d ever done with Ren, but then, I supposed that was what would happen after everything we’d gone through over… over our entire lives, really.
Nylion went dead beneath my hands, and I worried that I’d done something wrong again. I’d thought… After seeing that memory of when we’d been torn apart, it had seemed like…

But then, Nylion moved his hands to the back of my head, and he kissed me back, and OH MY GODS. What was this incessant pull toward my other half, this tug that pressed our hips together, smashing our sternums into one another? And why did I feel like I was being sucked into-?

Chapter 60: Personal Trouble

Raimie

The study’s door banged open, and in the split second after it had, there was no separation in the being named NylRaimie, only us, but then, we fell apart, leaving me gasping as I clung to my desk while Nylion stared wide-eyed at me.

“That was…” he breathed.

A hammer slammed down on my head, and I clenched my teeth together so hard that I thought they might break. My last hour might have been full of wellbeing and… something distinctly else, but it hadn’t erased my hangover.

We’ll talk about it later, I managed to squeeze through the pain.

“Agreed,” Nylion groaned.

For once, he didn’t disappear when he felt me moving my focus elsewhere, merely stepping back, and I paid attention to the voice filling my study.

“-promised you’d stay with Ring!” Oswin roared, stomping up the stairs to me. “How are we supposed to keep you safe if you keep traipsing off on your own?”

“Sorry. If it helps, I was very, very drunk. Shade melding home wasn’t a conscious decision,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Now that you mention Ring, though, I should probably check on her, huh? Leaving her alone with those crazy Matvai probably wasn’t a good idea.”

I was not looking for the slightest excuse to run from Oswin and was definitely not fleeing from an unspoken confession. The spymaster had simply surprised me with his presence.

So, I found something that would remove me from it for a short time, enough so that I could bury memories of my past with Oswin and all we’d once been to one another. By shade melding to the Matvai’s ceremonial hall, I could become another version of myself, someone devoid of those memories for long enough to avoid rousing Oswin’s suspicions. Long enough to delay with speaking a truth I’d been concealing for months.

How fortunate that the sun had created a patch of shadows around me.

“Raimie, no!” Oswin yelled.

But I didn’t listen to him. Fixing the ceremonial hall’s rough, wooden walls in my mind, I let the shadows take me. They merged with what made me ‘Raimie’ and tore it apart, setting the fragments floating.

Images passed: fleeting glimpses of people, a house where a familiar man stared at a metal belt, a charred forest that was only now showing signs of life, a room draped in decadent silks and hazed by incense smoke, a city with buildings coated in white light and filled with black-vined people, a roughhewn wood room with intricate carvings in the columns, a cave where a bear stirred from its hibernation. Wait. Go back one. Yes, that was the place. Now let go, shadows of greed.

Rolling out of a darkened corner, I ended up on my back with my limbs splayed. A lantern was hanging above me, and I stared single-mindedly at its gorgeous flame and lack of shadows.

“I told female yu’d be back,” a deep voice grumbled nearby.

“Sigemond,” I said with a sigh. “Got anything that’ll help with a hangover?”

Rustling sounds came from behind me, followed by the trickle of liquid, and after that cut off, Sigemond lumbered to stand over me, offering me a glass of water.

“That is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.

Snatching the glass from the barkeep, I greedily gulped it down.

“Why are yu back?” Sigemond asked. “Taelk did nut gu well yesterday.”

“I wanted to make sure that Ring was safe,” I said, glancing around the mostly empty room. “Is she safe?”

“Said sumthing about finding someone to punch,” Sigemond said with a laugh. “My people will be mur than haeppy to comply.”

“Great. Let’s hope she doesn’t cause a diplomatic incident,” I said. “Not that she could do much to ruin the negotiations more than I already have.”

I finished off my water, relieved that my headache had started receding.

“Speaking of negotiations, anything mur to say to Vasnavai?” Sigemond asked.

“Mm.”

Was there anything else to say? Was gaining uninterrupted access to the North Sea’s storm-free waters worth dealing with the contrary people who guarded the passes to it?

“Oh, come, heart of my heart,” Nylion said. “You know you like them.”

With an absent smile, I said, “You can tell her that I agree to her terms. The outlaw of your gods’ worship will be overturned. I never understood why Ada’ir and Auden insist on the sole worship of Alouin. No other realm does it, and I don’t care who or what my people choose to place their faith in, so long as they remain loyal to their kingdom as well.”

Sigemond slowly clapped.

“Nice speech. But Vasnavai will never believe you,” he said. “Wun’t believe me either, if I’m one to tell.”

“You can say that I’m returning this as a sign of good faith.”

Pulling a dagger off of my belt, I handed it to Sigemond, and as he accepted it, the barkeep-turned-emissary looked confused. When he examined the dagger’s ivory-bone hilt and its razor-thin, obsidian blade, however, wonder suffused his face.

“This is…” he said before something unknown strangled his voice.

“The dagger your Vasnavai almost threw at my face last night?” I said. “Yes, I know.”

Sigemond shook his head.

“This is wud maekes Vasnavai the Vasnavai,” he said with wide eyes. “By taeking this, yu have become leader of claens.”

Fucking really?

Sigemond tried to give the dagger back, but shuddering, I backed away from it.

“I don’t want it,” I said. “Return it to Vasnavai Dyomina. I have enough on my plate. Such as going home so Oswin can finish murdering me with his screaming.”

Sigemond’s wordless stare conveyed his incredulity, and at my side, Nylion shook his head, seemingly agreeing with the barkeep.

“You will regret this someday, I think,” he said. “We could use them.”

Maybe, I said, but I’m having a hard enough time with managing Auden. Let’s not throw another group of people into the mix, yes?

Snorting, Nylion followed me into the room’s corner, and I let its shadows take me before my foot hit the floor . Soon enough, I stumbled out the other side and into my office. Glancing around, I threw my arms above my head with a whoop.

“Three successful trips in twelve hours!” I said. “Maybe I’m finally getting the hang of this.”

“Raimie, watch—” Nylion started.

Someone grabbed my arm, twisting it behind me, and before I could break away, my assailant shoved me into a chair with cold iron binding my wrist to wood.

“—your surroundings,” my other half finished with a sigh.

But I only smiled.

“Where were you hiding this, Oswin?” I asked, lifting the shackle around my wrist with a light tug. “Our uniforms are so tight! I thought concealing anything under them was impossible.”

When he pressed steel against my neck, though, I went cold.

“Shut up,” Oswin snapped. “This isn’t a game.”

“What is he doing?” Nylion hissed.

Standing beside the chair, he wrapped his fingers around Oswin’s wrist, but this did nothing to stop the spy.

“Oswin,” I said, careful not to swallow so his blade wouldn’t break my skin, “what are you doing?”

Slamming a hand on the chairs’ backrest over my shoulder, Oswin bent to my eye level.

“Do you see, Raimie?” he said. “Do you see how easy it would be to kill you? If I were anyone else, your throat would be cut, and you’d be bleeding out on the floor right now.”

Coldly, I said, “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

I raised a handful of Daevetch into view, silently begging Nylion to back off, and to my relief, he reluctantly did so.

“You’ve seen me in the field,” I continued. “How many murderous criminals have we eliminated over the last two years?”

“That’s different!” Oswin shouted in my face. “You’re talking about the average bandit. I’m talking about assassins, people trained to kill you before you know they’re there!”

For a moment, I blinked at him, trying to fit this view of Oswin in with what I knew about him.

Crossing his arms, Nylion said, “Something else is the matter.”

Looks that way, doesn’t it?

“All right,” I said.

Slowly, I pushed the dagger away from my neck, holding Oswin’s gaze the whole time.

“What’s going on?” I said. “I’ve noticed your agitation over the last few weeks, no matter how much you might be trying to hide it. Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

As his jaw tightened, Oswin removed his dagger, replacing it in his hand with a key. He crouched to unlock the shackle around my wrist.

“I’m almost certain a traitor is lurking within our ranks,” he said. “I’ve received reports… well, let’s just say I have good reason for my suspicion. The trouble is, I don’t know who this unknown spy is working for. The only nation that we could have been enemies with has become our greatest ally, and we should be beneath the notice of everyone else, too broken from years of tyranny for any other kingdom to want our land. Not yet, at least.”

“It’s Doldimar,” I said, rubbing my wrist. “Has to be.”

Stiffening, Oswin fell into the posture of a soldier, addressing his superior.

“As you say, sir.”

Huffing, Nylion turned away from him.

“Why do they always do that?” he said.

I didn’t know, but it was annoying.

“What? Not going to tell me to let it go? That two years have passed since the Dark Lord disappeared? That what drove him out of Elisk must have scared him away for good?” I said. “Everyone else mocks my continued belief that Doldimar’s watching us. Why not you too?”

“I’d never question you, not about the Dark Lord or anything else you truly believe in, sir. Never,” Oswin said. “You’ve simply reminded me of the reason that I rushed here as soon as I heard you were home, besides to remind you of your Hand’s purpose at the moment. I’d straighten up the evidence of your current obsession, if I were you.”

This… already didn’t sound good.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Last night, Kaedesa arrived in Elisk, and having heard about your unexpected homecoming this morning, she’s eager to speak with you,” Oswin said, raising an eyebrow. “I believe she mentioned something about wedding plans?”

Oh, gods.

“Where is she?” I snapped. “I have to… gods, I need to hide.”

“You could shade meld elsewhere,” Nylion said. “It would get us away from her.”

True, but that would be running. Hiding, I could stomach right now. Running from the problem, though… I was already doing enough of that.

“How is hiding going to do you any good, sir?” Oswin said. “She’ll eventually find you.”

“Where is she?” I shouted.

With a wicked grin, Oswin said, “You see, this is why I was telling you to straighten up. She should be approaching the door now. Give it a second.”

Backing toward the head of the stairs, he gestured.

“May I present Her Royal Majesty, Queen Kaedesa of Ada’ir!”

When the study’s door was flung open, the woman herself stormed inside with all of her fiery temper brought to bear.

“There you are,” she snapped.

Through a tight throat, I managed to say, “Hello, Kaedesa. I wasn’t aware that you’d graced our shores with your presence once more. Is Dath with you this time?”

As she advanced up the stairs, Nylion and I both took unconscious steps back, raising our hands, and when she stopped in front of me, she poked my chest.

“Cut the bullshit. You know why I’m here,” Auntie Kaedesa said. “When’s the wedding? Have you set a date?”

Not this. I could take anything but the wedding today. Previously hidden memories had been running strong through me this morning, especially with what Nylion and I had done earlier, and every instance of guarding Kaedesa’s door when training to be part of her Hand, every time she’d once treated me like her favorite kid nephew, slammed into the forefront of my mind when I looked at her.

I still hadn’t figured out why she didn’t remember me. 

“If I recall correctly,” I faintly said, “you’re the one who was supposed to make the arrangements.”

“I did, and I have, and still, I wait for you,” Auntie Kaedesa snapped. “How long will you keep me in suspense like this?”

At my side, Nylion said, “Have you been dealing with this while I have been sulking?”

Don’t worry about it, Nyl, I hurriedly said.

“Good gods, you have!” Nylion said. “I am so sorry, heart of my heart.”

“Raimie!” Auntie Kaedesa shrieked through her gritted teeth.

“I- I wanted to guarantee that you receive everything you once bargained for,” I stammered. “I’m not the king of Auden yet, despite the long list of people who insist on calling me ‘Your Majesty’.”

“And why is that? Still waiting for the people’s decision between you and that upstart, Kylorian?” Auntie Kaedesa said. “Really, Raimie, you should know by now that you’ve captured your subjects’ hearts. Stop delaying what must come next!

“You’ve spent enough time on your silly projects. Using your primeancy to restore roads and villages, your fighting prowess to eliminate bandits, and your skills with diplomacy to set up an alliance with the Matvai, of all people! Alouin, Raimie! You’re already doing the king’s job! Take up the position in truth.”

Silly… projects? Everything I’d done over the last two years to help people who’d been bleeding their need across Auden?

And like that, memories fell away from me while my flustered state flattened to nothing, and I calmly blinked at Kaedesa, waiting for more. All the while, Nylion glared at Ada’ir’s queen, taking my hand.

“Oh, are you finished?” I said, when it was clear she had nothing else to say. “I was planning to next share that we’ve set an investiture date. I’d request that our wedding wait until after I’m king. That way, when we marry, you’ll truly be the queen of Auden.”

“And Ada’ir,” Kaedesa snapped.

Pausing, I cocked my head.

“Again, something else is the matter,” Nylion said. “What else could it be besides the delay that she mentioned, though?”

Nodding to him, I said, “Are you not pleased? I thought this was what you wanted, Auntie.”

I didn’t know why her former nickname had slipped through the cracks of my natural guardedness, but on hearing it, Kaedesa flinched, retreating a step.

“Why do you call me that sometimes?” she said. “I’m not… You call me that, and I know I’ve heard it before.”

I had nothing to say. If she didn’t remember it, I couldn’t tell her about the times when my father had brought me to see her as a child or of how she would sneak through the palace to read me the occasional bedtime story. Our relationship was already strained and disconcerting enough. I couldn’t add to that.

Fortunately, Kaedesa dropped the subject, hugging herself instead.

“Is something wrong with me?” she asked. “I know I’m at least moderately pretty, and I bring enormous wealth and influence to the table. So, why has this marriage been resisted and delayed at every step? Why has it been two years and we’re still in the midst of a betrothal? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing!” I shouted.

She couldn’t dissolve into tears, and… I couldn’t see her like that. Even with all that was strange about our relationship, I cared for this woman, even if I wasn’t entirely sure why.

“She was the mother we should have had,” Nylion said.

I shot him a glare. That was not helping with anything.

“You’re wonderful, Kaedesa!” I said. “I’m lucky to have you.”

When she looked at me, such pleading poured from her that I had trouble containing my flinch.

“Then why…?” she said.

Hell. I couldn’t tell her the truth, not in a hundred years, so glancing to the side, I lied.

“I’m not ready to be tied down.”

With the sudden cessation of our shouting, our breathing loudly echoed against the study’s tall ceiling.

“Liar,” Kaedesa said after a moment.

Spinning, she rubbed her eyes while flying down the stairs and slamming the door behind her.

“Gods damnit,” I muttered.

“You did the best you could, heart of my heart,” Nylion said.

Something like a squeeze was pressed against my hand.

“And I will be here to help in the future.”

I don’t like hurting her, I said.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of the closed door with the memory of Kaedesa’s face at the end stabbing at me.

“I know,” Nylion said.

“I didn’t know we had an investiture planned, sir.”

Snapping back to my surroundings, I blinked at Oswin for a moment before shaking my head to clear it.

“We don’t. Eledis does. And she’s right,” I said. “The people have chosen, but I’ve delayed with acknowledging it because… well, because I’m terrified.”

I met my friend’s gaze, wondering what I’d see there.

“Understandable, sir,” Oswin said.

The pity in the spy’s tone and eyes pricked at my pride, and hearing it, I bit back a host of scathing remarks.

“I suppose I should find Eledis and ask him to finish with his preparations,” I said instead. “Are you going to follow me there? Even though we’re in the palace?”

“Yes,” Oswin said, “I know having a bodyguard around bothers you, but it’s truly necessary. Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be discreet. This time.”

With a hesitant smile, I said, “In that case, I won’t leave you in my dust.”

“Much appreciated, sir.”

I couldn’t tell if he’d been using sarcasm with that or not.

Chapter 61: Admitting Defeat

Kylorian

Sitting across from Besunthet, the mayor of Sotchal, I watched him talk and tap on his desk, all while knowing I wasn’t going to get what I wanted out of this conversation.

“I’m sorry, young man. I really am,” he said. “You’ve done many great things for my city and for Auden as a whole, but in the end, I don’t think you’re the best fit for Auden’s throne. I think, perhaps, you already know this.”

Damn him for seeing through my mask to my true thoughts. I already had one person who did that on a regular basis. I didn’t need another one in my life. 

Keeping my face locked in neutrality, I said, “I see.”

Damn him for denying me! Damn him for not seeing how badly I needed this.

“If that's so, then I should move on,” I continued. “Thank you for your time.”

Standing from my chair, I bowed to Besunthet before turning to leave, but before I could make my escape, he stopped me short.

“Kylorian, wait,” he said. “We’ve gotten to know each other well over the last two years of this ridiculous contest. Wouldn’t you say so?”

After biting my lip to force away violent images of smacking the shit out of the man behind me, I turned on him with a smile.

“That sounds about right, yes,” I said.

Nodding, Besunthet said, “Then, I hope you won’t mind if I make an observation. Throughout the time you’ve spent trying to gain my people’s approval, you’ve always seemed earnest and ready to help, but to me, it looks like you’ve been holding yourself back as well. As if you don’t truly want what you’re trying to gain. So, I have to wonder. If becoming Auden’s king isn’t what you want, then is there another reason you’ve been working so hard to achieve that goal?”

Those images of wanting to smack this man? They’d been upgraded to much worse imaginings, and I held back a wince as they popped into my mind. I didn’t actually want to hurt this man, no matter how annoying he was currently being. He’d been kind to me over the last two years, and as a result, it was fair turnabout for me to answer his question. It didn’t matter that he’d honed in on the one issue I absolutely did not want to discuss right now.

“I’ve always had a reason for everything I do,” I told him, “but those reasons aren’t something I’m willing to share, especially given your recent decision, Besunthet. I’m sorry.”

Making a face, the other man nodded.

“That’s entirely fair,” he said. “In that case, all I can say is good luck, young man. Over the years, you’ve shown me and the people of Sotchal how honorable you are. I wish you joy and happiness in your future endeavors.”

With a half bow to him, I said, “The same to you.”

There was nothing more to say here, so I hurried out of the mayor’s office, heading for where my people had camped outside of town. As I strode down the single, dusty street of Sotchal, its citizens called out or raised their hands in greeting, and I forced myself to return those gestures, no matter how much I’d rather storm through here and get out of town. Despite their mayor's decision, I’d like to maintain the relationships I’d established with these people. Alouin knew how badly I might need their friendly disposition in the future.

Ren was waiting for me several steps outside of town, leaning against her horse with her arms crossed, a frown on her face, and a stiff grass stalk—of all things—between her lips. Said stalk moved to the other side of her mouth when she saw me, although she continued chewing on it.

“Well?” she mumbled with raised eyebrows.

Passing her without a word, I shook my head, soon hearing her heave a sigh behind me. Nothing more came from her, though, and within a quarter mark, we were back with the handful of people who’d come with us on this sojourn. I knew most of them—men and women who’d accompanied me on missions before Doldimar had disappeared—and from most of them, I didn’t receive more than a terse greeting. They knew better than to add more when I was like this. I’d always be grateful to them for noticing when my mood had turned this sour. 

The others, however, were eager to know how my meeting with Besunthet had gone. Somehow, I managed to get them calmed down without answering their questions, and after grabbing dinner from the man assigned that chore this evening, I led Ren into the wilderness around camp. 

After getting far enough that our voices wouldn’t carry, I found a log to sit on, motioning for Ren to join me. She opted to sit on the ground rather than beside me, which was mildly irritating, but as I’d learned how to do over the last two years, I breathed that irritation out before it could cause problems.

We were several bites into our meal before Ren started the conversation with:

“So, it was a no, then?”

Tensing, I clicked my teeth around my wooden spoon, hard enough for its surface to splinter, and after calmly storing said spoon in a pocket, I lifted my bowl to sip from it. 

After lowering it again, I said, “It was a no.”

Ren made a face, which had at least one corner of my mouth rising into a smile. Throughout this process, she’d insisted on remaining solely on my side. I knew where her heart and therefore, loyalty truly lay, but even still, she’d never shown me anything less than full support when coming out of meetings with town mayors or other such tasks.

“So…” she drawled, carefully watching my face, “what’s the plan now?”

Now, I should return to Tiro, making pit stops at the cities and towns between here and there, but the idea of doing that exhausted me, and I couldn’t bear to consider what might be waiting at the end of that trip.

So, I said, “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll have an idea for our next destination by the time we head out in the morning.”

Ducking her head, Ren nodded, focusing on her food for a while, but I knew she had something more to say. We’d been traveling together for the last two years, so I’d come to know her tells even better than I might have known them before.

Soon enough, she set her bowl aside. I pretended not to notice, continuing to eat while she gathered herself.

With a deep breath, Ren finally said, “Ky, why are you doing this?”

Slowing down with my slurping, I eyed Ren, wondering where she was going with this. For this whole trip, she hadn’t once asked me about why I believed I might deserve the throne, unlike almost everyone else we’d encountered. Her repertoire of questions had mostly involved ‘Where to next?’, ‘What do you need?’, and other ones similar to those two.

I could tell how serious she was with this question, though, so setting the bowl aside, I clasped my hands together while leaning on my knees.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

I wanted to make sure I knew exactly what she was asking about. Ren would always get an answer from me, no matter what she might ask, but unless she asked first, I didn’t plan to tell her much about what was going on with me. I hadn’t done that since a rebellious trip away from Tiro and the resulting meeting with a long-estranged friend.

Fortunately, Ren knew what I was doing. Most people would use a statement like mine to avoid the question, but I genuinely wasn’t doing that, only wanting to clarify.

With a look of concentration, Ren said, “I mean… this doesn’t seem like your fight anymore, if it ever was in the first place. In fact, it's only upset you at every turn. You’ve even commented about how you believe that of the two of you, Raimie would make the better king, and yet, you’re still participating in this contest of yours. So, if being the king isn’t your goal, like it seems, why are you fighting for it?”

Damn, she’d gone straight for that one, hadn’t she? It was just like the mayor from before.

Thank Alouin, my sick and beleaguered brain didn’t conjure a twisted fantasy about her for me, unlike with Besunthet. Because of that, I could take the time to think about her question, figuring out how to best phrase my response. It must be spoken right, otherwise Ren might find out about certain things. Things I didn't want her to know. I didn’t know if I could give her a true answer without at least referencing those things, though.

Before I could finish the process, Ren quietly added.

“It’s not because you hate Raimie, is it?”

And I could only blink in response. Hate… Raimie? Did she think that was how I felt about the man? No wonder she seemed intent on learning why I’d tried so hard with this contest!

Slipping off the log, I knelt in front of Ren, taking her hands.

“Ren… II don’t hate Raimie. I never have,” I said. “He is a better and nobler man than most I’ve come across, and I greatly respect him for that. I promise. I’m not contesting the throne out of some need to spite him.”

Lifting her eyes to mine, Ren raised an eyebrow, and I knew what she wanted to say before she spoke a word. Sighing, I glanced to the side.

“I know I was harsh on him and you the last time he came up,” I said. “I was in a bad place when we were in Vale. Hadrion had died, and some unexpected things had happened on the trip I’d just come home from. So, I said and did a lot of things I didn’t mean and that I still regret. And this is something I should have told you long before now. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied, I might have. I’m sorry, Ren.”

She merely rolled her eyes, refusing to accept my apology, as ever.

Cocking her head, Ren said, “Then, why…?”

I released her, sitting back on my ankles and rubbing my face.

“Because I have to take the throne, no matter how I feel about it,” I said through my hands. “If I don’t, I don’t know what sort of awful things he might ask from me and I… I…”

I was terrified that I wouldn’t say no when those demands eventually came.

Ren gently circled her fingers around my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face.

“Who’s he?” she softly asked.

I froze up. That was a question I should have expected her to ask, but I hadn’t and now…. 

Oh, Alouin, what should I say? How did I answer that truthfully without- without-?

Hell, I couldn’t even think about the answer to that question without- without-

With her frown deepening, Ren said, “Is it Dury? I know he’s gotten a lot more… harsh, we’ll call it, over the last two years.”

Oh, thank fuck, she’d said that, so I didn’t have to speak a word.

Mutely, I nodded, unable to meet her gaze, and she squeezed me.

“You know you can always tell him to back off, right?” she said. “It isn’t that hard.”

And I went dead, wanting so badly to laugh but also desperately needing to cry.

She doesn’t know, I reminded myself. She can NEVER know.

So, I smiled as best I could and said.

“Of course.”

I needed this conversation to be over now. I needed release this pressure inside, the pain in my head that had gotten more intense as the day had gone on. It was stabbing at me now, and I knew of only one safe way to relieve it, or the only one available to me right now.

If Ivelais were here…

But they weren’t. I’d have to make do until I could see them again.

Fortunately, the sudden need to see Ivelais had given me the perfect answer to Ren’s original question.

“Well, now that you’ve forced that out of me, maybe it’s time to do what I should have done months ago,” I said. “Tomorrow, we’ll head for Elisk, and when we arrive, I’ll talk with Raimie. I’ll resolve the differences between us, but then, I’ll concede defeat in this contest of ours. After the last few months, it’s clear that he’s won our people’s love and devotion, and I’m glad for that. They deserve a man like him on the throne.”

Not one like me, that was for sure.

Ren let out a slow breath, as if it was one she’d been holding for a while, and I wondered how long she’d been waiting for me to make this decision.

“I think that’ll be for the best,” she said.

In a rush, she lurched forward to hug me, and after struggling to keep from falling over, I returned her embrace. I let myself breathe her in, feel her body heat, enjoy this moment because I knew once we reached Elisk, I might not get something like this for a while. With the contest for the throne over, Ren wouldn’t be my ally anymore, and as a consequence, she’d be able to do something she’d wanted for the last two years.

Here was hoping Raimie wouldn’t reject her outright when she came to him, and if he did, I hoped he was gentler with her than he had been on first breaking things off between them. I didn’t like recalling what a mess Ren had been in the months after he’d left Tiro.

When she released me, Ren hesitantly smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“I’m glad you’re finally doing something you want, Ky,” she said. “I’ve been worried about you for a while now.”

I jerked back, feeling my cheeks heating.

“Yes, well…”

But I didn’t know what else to say. Apparently, nothing more was needed, though, as Ren simply chuckled into her hand.

“All right. I’ll go find somewhere to sleep now,” she said. “What about you?”

I wouldn’t be sleeping for a long while yet, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll join you soon enough,” I said. “First, I need to walk the perimeter and check on those keeping watch.”

Nodding, Ren grinned before leaping to her feet. She kissed her palm before pushing it into the top of my head.

“Ok. Good night, Ky!”

My own ‘good night’ followed her back toward the others, and for a little while, I sat there, watching them prepare for sleep. Once they looked settled, though, I got to my feet, heading out in search of something—anything, really—to track.

When I stumbled across some scat and a pawprint leading off to the west, I started that way, pushing the process of accomplishing this task to the side so I could think about everything that had happened today.

I’d given up on being Auden’s king. That thought alone sent a shiver over my body, and I had to shake out my hands to stop the shiver from reversing course.

Because I hadn’t been lying to Ren. I was well and truly petrified about what might happen, now that I wouldn’t have absolute control over this kingdom that I loved.

Not that I would have been able to stop anything horrible from happening to Auden, even with that control. Nobody could control nature or time or the world like that, but the illusion of it had been helping me with keeping my ever-present panic under the surface.

I’d have to talk about it with Ivelais when I next saw them. Hopefully, they’d have some ideas for how to cope with it, now that my current method of doing so wasn’t viable anymore.

With my thoughts turned to Ivelais, I winced. That relationship had gotten complicated over the last two years.

When I’d first found them after the battle of the Birthing Grounds, they’d responded… callously to the news of Hadrion’s death, which had sent me across the countryside in a rage. For a short while, I’d loathed Daevetch and the people attached to it, more than I normally did at least. I’d thought everyone associated with Daevetch were the scum of the earth, which had made resolving my conflicting thoughts about Raimie… difficult for that time.

Fortunately, Ivelais had caught up with me before long. I’d already done some damage to myself before then, but they’d gotten to me before anything utterly disastrous could occur. 

Even still, I’d almost lost it on them when they’d showed up out of the blue. They, however, had gotten me calmed down before explaining why they’d reacted as they had to my news. We’d been in a weird range of close and distanced since then.

But Ivelais had become my confidante in many ways, much like Hadrion and Ren had once been. They had experience with the many aspects of my life that I couldn’t get away from. The ones hat I still tried to escape with every choice I made. Because of that, though, Ivelais had been invaluable when it came to keeping me functional. They’d kept me from racing into the ruins of Lyzencroft, never to be seen again.

In the last few months, Ivelais had settled in a remote corner of Elisk’s uninhabited neighborhoods, which meant I’d have to keep my current problems under wraps until we reached the city. I could do that, though. I’d done it for far longer than the week it would take to make this journey before.

Thinking about the capital, though, brought up my worries about the coming confrontation with Raimie.

Could I confess everything I’d hidden from him, everything he’d need to understand if we were to be friends again? That I didn’t blame him for Hadrion. That his involvement with my brother’s death wasn’t what had driven my sense of turmoil about him, no matter that it had started it. That I desperately needed his help if I was to escape the horror of my life.

How was I supposed to express all of that to him when I couldn’t admit its many details to myself?

“You’re gonna be fine, boyo,” I whispered. “Just another few weeks of stress and it’ll all be over, one way or another.”

Which was incredibly true.

Slowly breathing out, I forced myself to relax, bringing my focus back to the hunt. I could do this. I’d get through this last bit of hell, and once it was over, maybe I could finally, finally live my life the way I’d always wanted to.

Chapter 62: And Her

Raimie

I strode down the now familiar, eerie halls of the palace toward Eledis’ quarters, and true to his word, Oswin nonchalantly trailed me at a distance, disappearing among the slow-moving flow of people when we reached a more populated floor. Unfortunately, this gave me time to consider what I was doing.

I’d agreed to become the king of Auden. Holy shit. How had that happened? 

When I’d accepted my role years ago, before the chaotic months of battle and death, I’d kept hidden at the back of my mind the certainty that someone would eventually come along to take the throne from me. That belief had never been fulfilled, despite my hopes with Kylorian. Even now, I kept expecting someone to step forward, announcing a greater claim to the throne, but no such disturbance disrupted my path. Instead, every step closer to Eledis became another shovelful of dirt, burying me beneath a prestigious position that I’d never wanted.

You should be happy, I said. I know the idea of ruling a people has always appealed to you.

With his arms folded behind his back, Nylion shrugged.

“It should be interesting,” he said. “I am more concerned about what happened earlier this morning. What was that, Raimie?”

Us merging for the first time in years? I said. No, that’s not true. We did it after Hadrion died…

We both fell silent, fighting off the melancholy that still afflicted us when the teenager’s name came up.

“I meant what happened before that,” Nylion eventually said. “You… kissed me. I thought you… Why did you do it? And why right then, after I decided that our relationship is more important than revenge?”

Smirking, I diverged from a straight path until I bumped into Nylion.

I told you. I’ve been wanting to do that since Vale, I said. I don’t know, Nyl. I have… feelings for you, maybe more than what comes from us being US. I don’t know what they are, but I need to find out. I didn’t get a chance to do that with… Ren, and I don’t want to miss an opportunity like that again.

Stopping short, I ignored people’s protests as they scrambled to keep from running into me.

If you’re willing, I’d like to explore this, I said. I want to know if I can return the affection that you’ve expressed for me, strange as that will be for who we are.

With wide eyes, Nylion stared at me, unmoving. It was almost as if someone had frozen him into stone until he reached to hover a hand along my jaw.

“Gods, I want to kiss you,” he said. “Maybe if we were not in such a public place.”

The pads of his fingertips pressed into my skin with an electric pulse jolting from the contact, and I barely kept from gasping.

“Thank you, heart of my heart,” Nylion said. “You have freed me, fought to remember me, and now, you give me hope. I do not know how I can repay you but-”

You DON’T, I interrupted. Damnit, Nyl. You owe me nothing.

Nylion dragged his fingers along my face until one of them was left resting on my lower lip.

“And that is one reason why I love you,” he whispered.

Someone took hold of my elbow, dragging me into a side passage, and I cast an annoyed look at Oswin.

“I know. You were in the middle of some big epiphany,” he said, “but it didn’t seem like a good idea to have it in the middle of the palace staff. Besides, I found something you should see while you were distracted.”

Huffing, I glanced at Nylion, who smiled and shook his head. Apparently, nothing further was needed there. Still, I wasn’t happy that our conversation had simply… ended. I could feel something flitting around the edge of my consciousness before Oswin had pulled me away, some memory or realization.

Whatever it had been, it was gone now. I followed Oswin until we slipped out of an exterior door, setting foot in the gardens. 

‘Gardens’ wasn’t necessarily the best word for the piece of paradise found around the palace, though. Since the victorious (awful) day of Elisk’s liberation, Rhylix’s jungle had been partially tamed with its grass and low-hanging branches trimmed, but besides that, this miniature example of a forest had been untouched.

Oftentimes, Eliskians would visit the gardens to commune with nature or to enjoy the hush that the tall trees provided, blocking out city noise as they did. As a rule, I avoided this place—too many bad memories—but today, I was grateful Oswin had brought me here.

Within the forest’s fringe, a woman was lying on a blanket with her eyes closed and her black hair strewn above her head. As usual, she prompted a mix of desire and comfort in me, but this time, a deep, roaring anger was buzzing there as well. I hadn’t seen Ren since the night I’d returned to Tiro from the Birthing Grounds.

“Thank you,” I said.

I didn’t question how Oswin had known that Ren would be here, only counting myself lucky to have him on my side.

“You’re welcome,” Oswin said. “Happy birthday.”

Damnit. That was today, wasn’t it?

Wait.

As every muscle in my body clenched, I stiffly faced the spy. A teasing grin was covering Oswin’s face, and on seeing it, I curled my fingers into fists.

“We’ve talked about this,” I said. “Birthdays aren’t special for me. They’re just another day.”

“I know,” Oswin said, “but this gift was too good. I had to give it to you.”

“You say that every year!” I growled.

“Maybe I want to see how long it takes before you lose your temper and punch me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” I said.

“Isn’t that the whole point, sir?”

Closing my eyes, I breathed in deeply, repeatedly clenching and opening my hands.

“Stay here,” I said.

When the spy obeyed me, I was mildly surprised. Oswin liked to pick and choose which orders he’d follow, and I’d thought for sure that being anywhere near Ren without backup would be one of those times.

“You just want him with you for support,” Nylion said.

So what if I do? I said. Gods, I think I might pass out.

“You can do this.”

As I approached Ren, she pulled herself upright, warily watching my every move. I stopped outside the perimeter of her blanket’s spread, scrambling for something to say. It had been almost two years. How did I break a silence that had stretched for so long?

“Ren,” I said with a nod.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. What was wrong with me?

“Raimie,” Ren said. “What was that about?”

She gestured toward Oswin, who was scanning the perimeter like a good, little bodyguard should. Snarky asshole.

“Oh,” I said.

Shit. How should I explain that conversation?

“It was nothing,” I continued. “He was wishing me a happy birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” Ren said with her face brightening.

There. A miniscule glimpse of her bubbly side poked through the rest, letting a tiny piece of me relax.

“Apparently,” I said.

“Why do you sound so sour about it?” Ren asked.

“I…”

Biting my lip, I looked away from her and toward Nylion. My other half was watching everything with amusement, and gods, if I didn’t want to stick my tongue out at him right now.

“Tell her the truth, heart of my heart,” Nylion said. “In all things, only speak the truth with her.”

He was right, gods damnit.

“I don’t like birthdays, is all,” I said. “May I sit?”

I pointed at a spot on the blanket beside her.

Spreading an arm, Ren said, “Be my guest.”

While Nylion folded to the ground, I settled in beside him, trying not to overanalyze that first interaction’s awkwardness. Why was this so hard?

“It’s been a while,” Ren said.

“Yes, it has. A couple of years or so, I believe.”

Like I hadn’t been counting every day spent away from her. Gods, what a sappy fool.

“How have you been?” I asked.

“Oh, you know. I’ve been ok. Mostly following Kylorian around Auden. You have good timing! We returned from a trip to Sotchal a couple of hours ago. Ky’s off getting us somewhere to sleep, but then, he mentioned going into the city,” Ren said. “But yes, I’ve been with him for the last two years, making sure he doesn’t get himself killed, like Hadrion.”

At the mention of her younger brother, her voice tightened, and I pulled my knees to my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “If I had only…”

I trailed off, unable to continue, and turning to me, Ren cocked her head.

“Why do you do that?” she asked. “Take the blame for tragedies that aren’t your fault, I mean.”

What could I say? That I must take partial blame for Hadrion’s death? If I confessed such remorse, Ren would want to know why I was at fault, and I’d have to lie to her, which Nylion had said not to do. Considering its contents involved secrets that she could never learn, though, the truth was forbidden to her. No one could know about Nylion.

The last time we’d shared his presence with those closest to us, they’d banished him from my life. So, it was better to brush the subject away, even if doing so was sure to scare away her skittish willingness to speak with me.

“You should tell her,” Nylion said.

Sitting cross-legged in the grass, he rolled his eyes at my incredulous look.

“You told Rhylix about me against my wishes, and none of my fears about your choice have come to pass. In fact, he has been… kind about me,” he said, frowning as if that statement was still hard to believe. “Perhaps we can trust Ren as well. I believe she is ready to learn about me, and gods know I do not want her fleeing from us again. So, tell her. She should have the truth. What is the worst that can happen? She rejects us again?”

Staring at him, I said, And you’re ok with this? Given what you said not ten minutes earlier and knowing how I feel about her, you’re ok with me opening up?

Wouldn’t that cause problems with… whatever we were? I knew more about love and romance now than I had before. I knew most people in an intimate relationship got overly jealous if their partner showed interest in someone else. If I… loved Nylion and he loved me, wouldn’t that fact hold true here?

Clicking his tongue, Nylion said, “Hell, Raimie, I love her too. Remember what we are.”

An extension of one another. Two separate people who were also part of one.

If you’re sure…

With an annoyed huff, Nylion scooted closer to me, placing a hand on my knee, and the spark of that contact, the glow of his reassurance and prodding through our bond, filled me to the brim. It was almost enough to negate my fear.

And now, Ren seemed filled with her own anxiety. Damn, I shouldn’t have hesitated for as long as I had.

“Hadrion’s death was my fault,” I said in a rush. “In the Birthing Grounds, Nyl got distracted by Daevetch’s emotional carryover, and I couldn’t take control from him in time. Maybe if I had, the Enforcer would never have trapped your brother.”

Ren looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.

“I’m… confused,” she said. “Who or what is Nyl?”

Flopping to my back, I let the calming movement of the branches in the wind distract me.

“Answering that question will require a long explanation,” I said with a sigh, “and I don’t know if you’re ready for it.”

Ren lay on her stomach beside me, supporting her head with elbow-propped hands.

“Try me,” she said.

So… I did. Slowly. Hesitantly. 

I told her about my childhood, the ever-present Nylion, and our brief years happily spent together. I described our bond, our oneness of mind, and how it had been everything. I explained how my other half had become my protector and the one who’d been there with advice when life had seemed impossible. I gave her bits and pieces of what we’d been evolving into before the worst day of our lives. I shared about the ceremony that our loved ones had performed on my birthday, the one that had both killed my mother and torn us apart.

The long process of finding Nylion again. My joy at being made whole once more. My fury toward those who’d broken us apart in the first place.

I was hesitant to talk about recent developments, but Nylion pushed me into it, an outpouring of all my wants and fears and hopes.
The tale soon came to a close, and I focused on exactly how much I didn’t care what she thought of it. Ren had been the one to stunt the growth of anything good flourishing between us, and therefore, her opinion didn’t matter, but my insistence that I wasn’t eagerly awaiting her reaction was definitely a lie I was telling myself to distract from how much I’d missed her.

Plenty of other women had crossed my path in the years since the time of us. Village girls who’d quite literally thrown themselves at me after I’d saved their home from bandits, town mayors who’d tried to curry favor with me in distinctly uncomfortable ways, the occasional palace maid who’d worked up the courage to slip into my study while I’d been sleeping. Despite my best intentions, some of these surprise interactions had become something more meaningful, although they’d never lasted long. I was promised to another person, after all, and as I'd said, that tended to... stop things.

While I’d learned more about it, I still didn’t quite understand how love, attraction, and sex intersected, even so many years after Hadrion had first tried to explain it to me, but over the last few years, my decidedly strange interactions with women had happened enough for me learn the pattern that other people took when all three of those subjects became involved. I’d learned how to participate, no matter how strange each of those paths had felt at the time.

Even still, I’d been telling myself that my betrothal to Kaedesa was the reason why since Ren, no woman had held my interest for more than a month, but the truth was, none of those relationships had felt right. All of them had lacked a spark, a sense of belonging, or the comfort of home. The problem was, I knew exactly who I wanted in my life, and because she could never be mine, I’d gone looking elsewhere.

Gods, that made me sound like a heartbroken, teenage girl, but it was what I’d done and how I’d felt. I couldn’t deny it. Ren’s opinion of me carried enormous weight.

Beside me, she’d scrunched her face up, and I couldn’t tell what that meant. Was it a display of disbelief? Fear?

“You’re telling me that another person is trapped inside the man I know as Raimie?” she said.

That seemed a bit oversimplified but…

“Yes.”

With her eyes lighting up, Ren said, “Can I meet him?”

Chapter 63: First Outside Interaction

Raimie

As Ren’s words absorbed into my shocked-to-stillness brain, I could swear time crawled around me. Overhead, the trees’ branches bobbed in slow motion while leaves fell at a snail’s crawl.

Did she just…?

I couldn’t finish the thought.

“I… think so.”

Nylion had sounded as dumbstruck as me. Was this not what he’d expected would happen after I’d shared our story?

When I could control my tongue, I asked, “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

Gods, how those words made me cringe, but on hearing them, Ren laughed. She laughed.

“Oh, Raimie,” she gasped. “I’ve thought you were crazy since you decided to face Teron in battle instead of running from him, all those years ago. Now, I have proof that I was right. Guess what?”

Oh, I did not want to respond to that.

“…What?”

Leaning closer to me, Ren mischievously grinned.

“I don’t care,” she whispers.

She… didn’t…

Laughing, Ren straightened, wiping her eyes.

“Alouin, you people from Ada’ir don’t understand, and you never will,” she said. “For centuries, the Audish people have lived with insanity on a daily basis, although that’s lessened considerably since Doldimar disappeared. Even still, you say there’s another person in your head? You know what, Raimie? It. doesn’t. matter. What does is your actions. How you, even with this ‘Nyl’ in your head, live your life. That is all that matters. So, again I ask. Can I meet him?”

“Uh…”

Oh, Alouin above, I was going to cry. I couldn’t cry, so I looked toward Nylion, unsure what to do.

“Why not?” Nylion said with a thick voice.

“…sure,” I said.

As always when Nylion took control, the entire world jolted, and once more, I was stuck inside our body, watching through our eyes. The experience would have been utterly terrifying if I didn’t trust my other half.

How do you want me to act with her? Nylion asked with the question resounding in our head.

This was why my trust existed. Nylion would never intentionally cause a disruption in my life, even though he was the one trapped inside most of the time.

“Do as you wish, Nyl,” I said. “I doubt you can damage what might have existed between Ren and me, more than it already is at least.”

For some reason, my answer panicked Nylion. Shifting, he awkwardly sat up.

“Hello,” he nervously said.

He extended a hand, and sitting up, Ren followed his example, although she didn’t touch her hand to his.

“Hello!” she said.

What is she-?

“They don’t shake hands in Auden, remember?” I said. “Ren’s trying to greet you in a way that’ll make you feel comfortable, but she doesn’t understand this custom of Ada’ir’s. Don’t worry. I did the same thing to Hadrion when we first met.”

Ah. So-?

“Lower the hand and wait to see what she says next,” I said.

This was… strange, being the one giving advice. Still, Nylion followed my suggestion, even if his unease blared from his silence.

“You’re Nylion?” Ren asked, peering into our eyes.

“You may call me Nyl,” my other half said.

“Nice to meet you, Nyl,” Ren said with a smile. “Oh! I meant to ask Raimie. Is that Nyl as in-?”

“Nothing,” Nylion said. “The nickname is a private joke between us since that is what I am, nothing more than a voice in our head.”

“Nyl!” I gasped. “How can you say that?”

Ren, on the other hand, merely burst into laughter on hearing that.

When our arms hugged our chest, she said, “Sorry. I just find the idea that you’re ‘nothing’, as you put it, a little funny, considering you’re speaking with me right now. You seem pretty real to me.”

Shifting, Nylion hugged our arms tighter around himself.

“Forgive my lack of social graces, Ren,” he said, no doubt trying to change the subject. “I am afraid I do not receive many chances for pleasant conversation, besides those I share with Raimie.”

Hell, no wonder he was so nervous. I’d never considered what being trapped in our head might be like for him. Did Nylion get lonely in here? How horrid must those nine years by himself have been, absent our bond!

Why do you think I so badly hunger for vengeance? Nylion said to me.

To Ren, he said, “I hope you can excuse any social gaffs I may have made.”

“You’ve done nothing of the sort,” Ren said. “In fact, you’ve been quite pleasant.”

She smiled at us, which had us gushing warmth at each other through our bond.

Clearing our throat, Nylion said, “Then, forgive me once more, but I must ask you a discomfiting question.”

He shifted our eyes downward.

“I hope you do not mind.”

“Fire away,” Ren said, folding her hands in her lap.

Nylion took a deep breath.

“You said that you have been traveling with Kylorian since we last saw you. Raimie did not grasp the implications of this, given how elated he is to speak with you, but I certainly understood,” Nylion said. “Do you intend to support your brother in his bid for the throne? You have led Tiro’s scouts since Kylorian’s outside activities have claimed his time, especially during Doldimar’s reign. You have more than curried the city’s favor, such that where your final decision goes, Tiro’s is likely to follow.”

So, that was what had claimed so much of her time when we’d been courting. The long conversations with cloth-swaddled soldiers and her excursions into the forest made perfect sense now. How had I missed it?

You were preoccupied with leading your own band of soldiers, Nylion said. Think nothing of it. Picking up on things like this is one reason I am here.

After a moment of quiet filled with much shifting in place, Ren said, “I have no intention of supporting my brother.”

She grimaced at the admission.

“He’s always been the most even-keeled of us siblings, but recently, he’s developed a temper. He knows that he’s lost the contest for the throne, and that knowledge seems to have tipped him over the edge, not that I can blame him. Given how our father has been acting lately…”

Trailing off, Ren shook her head.

“Anyway, any sense of mercy he once had has vanished. For example, on our journey to Elisk, a man tried to steal our horses from us while we were sleeping. When we caught the thief, the poor man tried to plead his case, saying he needed the money from the horses’ sale to feed his family, but Kylorian didn’t care. He cut the man down, and we moved on.”

She bit her lip.

“He can’t be king. Something broke in him when Hadrion died, Raimie, and I don’t know what I can do to fix it.”

Oh, no.

“Nyl, she didn’t mean it!” I cried.

“My name is Nylion.”

Our mouth might have formed those words, but the voice that had emerged was distinctly my other half’s: raw, brutal, and so very, very crushed.

Ren smacked her hand to her lips.

“I am so sorry,” she breathed. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear!”

But Nylion turned away.

Can we switch back, please? he asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good-”

Ren grabbed our hand, and at that, Nylion’s wish to retreat wavered, replaced by something else, something much stronger. Before I could comprehend what was happening, we were huddled, far from the blanket and against a tree’s trunk, shaking like a leaf.

Nyl? Are you ok? She was trying to comfort you, I said. Why-?

“Do not touch me!” Nylion shouted.

Our bond, so recently opened, shuttered closed with a clang, and with it came a vast gulf of separation. Returning to what I’d been between the ages of nine to eighteen jarred me into a listless float, a haze that clouded my thoughts but refused to blessedly cut them off.

How had I lived so empty for so long? How did anyone do that?

“What’s going on? Please, I thought we were… Why won’t you let me in?” I cried. “Please, please, Nyl! I can’t be alone again.”

What had cut me off loosened ever so barely, and I wept at the return of even this bare minimum of contact. Gods, I couldn’t do it again. Never. Never, never.

Leaves crunched, and clothes rustled as Ren settled somewhere nearby. She did as Nylion had asked, however, and kept her hands to herself.

“Both of you do that, you know. When we were together, I had to catch Raimie in unguarded moments if I wanted a genuine reaction from him instead of terror,” she said, crunching closer. “I’m going to rub your neck now, Nyl. That always calmed Raimie down.”

Warm flesh connected with ours, and while Nylion continued trembling at first, he gradually relaxed while her fingers massaged our skin.

“Who hurt you?” Ren whispered after a time, barely audible.

Still, Nylion caught the question, and with a cough, he stood up.

“No one,” he said, clearing our throat, “unless you count weapons masters who went too far with their lessons or tutors who exchanged raps on the knuckle for incorrect answers.”

Frowning, Ren said, “No, whatever it was had to be something more to cause as much damage as I’ve seen in you two.”

“There is nothing else!” Nylion growled.

Storming off, he reached the edge of the blanket before stopping, rubbing our face.

“Thank you for answering my questions,” he said. “I apologize for making it more awkward than it should have been.”

“No, no!” Ren said.

She raced to Nylion, stopping short of taking our hand.

“I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable and to have forgotten who’s currently in this body,” she said. “Truly, Nylion. I am utterly and completely sorry. Please, forgive my mistake, if you can.”

Glancing at her, Nylion sucked in a breath on seeing tears running over her cheeks, and without thinking, he started wiping them away.

“It is fine. I am ok,” he said. “Please, just… stop this. Do not cry on my behalf. You made a minor mistake with me, if that. It is not worthy of your tears.”

Taking a step back, Ren gently took our wrist, stopping Nylion from touching her.

“Alouin, you’re just like him, aren’t you?” she whispered.

Shrugging, Nylion smiled.

“In some regards,” he said. “He is usually more forgiving than me, although my tendency to respond with anger seems to be suspended when it comes to you.”

Coughing, Ren shoved a fist in front of her mouth, but that didn’t hide the flush that was rising in her cheeks.

“Oh, good job, Nyl,” I said. “That was well done.”

It was? Nylion said. Wait. What was well done?

While I laughed in our head, Ren tightened her posture, drifting her eyes over our head.

“Like I said, I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable,” she said. “I’d hoped to meet you a little more… amenably, although that doesn’t seem to be an issue now…”

Trailing off, she ran her eyes over Nylion, making him shift in place.

“Anyway,” she continued, “you could have asked about my loyalties at a better time, but I could have…”

As she fell silent, her gaze unfocused.

“Wait. When you asked me about whether I'll support Kylorian, did you also say that Raimie was looking forward to talking with me?” she asked. “Why would he want to speak with me after what I did to him?”

This turn in the conversation confused me until I felt gleeful anticipation bouncing across my bond with Nylion.

“Nyl, don’t you dare!” I shouted.

“I did,” Nylion said, ignoring me. “He is still in love with you, you know. He pines like a love-stricken fool, even now. It is a little embarrassing, actually.”

Gods, he’d actually told her. Nylion had broken my trust to…

“You bastard,” I growled. “How could you?”

Turning to the side, Nylion said, “You were never going to tell her about it, too intent on honoring her wishes to notice that doing so meant we would never find happiness with another person. Gods know you have tried.”

“I could eventually find it with Kaedesa,” I said.

“With Auntie? I doubt it,” Nylion said, wrinkling our nose. “Even with our past, we may appreciate her body, to be sure. What person inclined toward women would not? But we have no real attraction to her. She is like… an Aunt, much like the nickname she holds.”

“Then, I’ll learn to deal with it!” I shouted.

“Excuse me, boys. Can I cut in?” Ren asked in a low voice. “I’d like Raimie, if you don’t mind, Nyl.”

Facing her, Nylion grinned.

“Not at all,” he said.

When the world snapped, leaving me in control, that smile dropped. Hell, how was I going to reel this conversation back under control?

“Sorry about him,” I said, rubbing my neck. “He can get a bit carried away sometimes.”

“I do not get carried away,” Nylion said, mouthing the words with distaste. “I was simply getting sick of how much you try to deny someone who is obviously meant for us. I thought I would help you along.”

Well, look where that got us!

“Yes, Raimie. Look,” Nylion said with a huff.

When I summoned the courage to glance at Ren, she had her eyes hooded, hiding her intent. Once she noticed my attention on her, she crooked a finger at me.

“Come here.”

Gulping, I sidled as close to her as I dared. How angry was she? She’d been the one to tell me that our relationship was over. I should have moved on, but my efforts on that front had been lackluster at best. Was she displeased to learn that I still missed her?

Raising her face, Ren looked at me expectantly.

Wait. Did she blame me for how I felt about her? It wasn’t as if I could change it. I’d certainly tried.

With an exasperated sigh, she said, “You’re supposed to kiss me now, silly man.”

Oh.

Thanks, Nyl.

“You are quite welcome.”

Cautiously, I cupped Ren’s face, certain that she’d bat my hands away, and when she didn’t, I leaned down to meet her.

Gods, that spark was still there! That spine-chilling, toe-curling, back-arching want or possibly need. I could never tell which of those it was, but as always, it ran through my body from head to toe, although its intensity seemed amplified by the years we’d spent apart. Years I’d spent missing her.

Ren must have felt it too. She slipped her hands under my tunic, and while I initially flinched at that sudden skin-on-skin contact, I was soon shivering at the feel of it. Too absorbed in our kiss, I didn’t notice her unbuttoning my jacket, but I definitely felt it when she tugged it off of me.

For a split second, I panicked—

She can’t see me, can’t see THOSE scars!

—but then, I was meeting her lips again, sucking in all of her. I couldn’t get enough. I found the edge of her tunic, breaking away long enough to tug it over her head—gods, she was beautiful—before diving in once more.

We sank onto the blanket, touching, feeling, roaming our hands everywhere. I wasn’t sure why I was having such an intense and frankly, strange reaction to being reunited with her but… fuck it. That didn’t matter right now, did it?

“Ren!”

That shout shattered the magic between us like a stone would when coming through a window. Ren and I broke apart, and it was funny. Instead of reaching for clothing, which we should have done, our initial reaction to this sudden interruption was to grab our weapons.

“What are you doing?”

Distantly, I noticed that Kylorian was advancing on us like a storm cloud, and still trapped in a haze, I was having a hard time with figuring out where he’d come from.

Raising an eyebrow, Ren said, “What I want? What’s the problem, Ky?”

She didn’t bother with putting her tunic back on, replacing her dagger on her belt instead.

The question, however, hadn’t been directed at her. As I got to my feet, hoping to figure out what the hell had my friend so riled up, Kylorian shoved me, nearly tumbling me back to the ground.

“DON’T TOUCH HER!” he shouted, getting between me and Ren.

Shaking myself, I snatched up my clothes, hurriedly putting them on while struggling to pull myself out of my mental fog.

“Hey, Kylorian. So good to see you after such a long time,” I said. “What’s that? Sure, I’d love to get a drink with you! Right after you explain what’s going on.”

“Don’t act like the wounded party here,” Kylorian snarled. “I saw everything. You were assaulting her!”

And I froze. What….? I knew Kylorian had a quick temper. He’d as much as stated that soon after we’d met. Still, what he’d accused me of… that wasn’t something someone said out-of-the-blue. It was… I must have misheard him.

“He had better hope that we misheard,” Nylion growled.

“Ky!” Ren snapped. “Back off. This isn’t like before. I started it!”

I barreled over whatever else she might have to say.

“I would never do something like that,” I said through a tight smile. “Never, Ky! I can’t believe you’d think I was capable of something like… that. What the actual and bloody hell?”

For a moment, Kylorian paused, as if just now adjusting to his surroundings, and in that break, Ren stormed in front of him, slapping him silly.

Pointing back at me, she hissed, “He is not like Josenik. And this—”

She gestured between me and her.

“—is not like back then. I understand why you want to protect me like this, Ky, but hell! I know better now, and even if I didn’t, I’ve learned how to defend myself since then. If I ever need your help like that again, I will ask for it.”

Going pale, Kylorian took a step back.

“I’m… sorry,” he whispered. “I wasn’t… I thought I saw him…”

He pinched his nose.

“How do I keep messing this up?”

But then, he turned on his heel and walked away.

“Where’s he going? The nearest tavern?” I say.

Because with how visible his life had become over the last two years—much like mine—I’d say it was almost universally known how much Kylorian liked to drink nowadays.

“Perhaps,” Oswin called from outside of the clearing.

Which made both me and Ren jump. I’d forgotten about the spy and… why hadn’t he stepped in earlier?

“Kylorian doesn’t seem like the type to do this,” Oswin continued, “but he may decide to report what he thinks he’s seen to someone else, say… Eledis. Shame makes people do strange things at times.”

Falsely accusing me of a crime I hadn’t committed? That didn’t seem like the Kylorian I knew, much like Oswin had said, but on the off chance the spy was right…

“Oh, HELL no,” Nylion and I hissed, one silent. One not.

Finished with buttoning my jacket, I tugged on its hem before turning on Ren.

“I’m going to make sure your brother doesn’t do something stupid,” I said. “Want to help?”

Rolling her eyes, Ren said, “It’s what I’ve been doing for months. Do you see what I mean about keeping him from getting himself killed now? He’s been really out of control lately.”

“Yeah, I can see that. It… worries me.”

I knew a lot of Kylorian’s troubles were because of Hadrion’s death. I couldn’t blame myself for how he’d decided to handle that, but still, I wished I could have been there to help, in whatever way I could. Despite what he’d done here, I still… liked him, as a person. I still wanted us to be friends, even if I also wanted him to apologize.

“Ok. I’ll see if he went to Eledis,” I said. “Can you look for him in the city? We can reconvene later. I think we need to… talk. About a lot of things.”

Shyly smiling, Ren said, “And I think you’re right. I’ll start searching taverns. Meet you later this evening. Sound good?”

“It does. Until then.”

As I passed Oswin, I clapped his shoulder.

“Hope you can keep up,” I say through a grin.

A groan answered me, but still, I didn’t let it dissuade me from my path. While I didn’t need it for speed, I called on Ele, letting its peace wash over me. For a while now, I’d needed that peace whenever I was speaking with my grandfather, especially when they were stressful, and if I did find Kylorian in the old man’s office, the coming conversation would fall into that category.

So, I shot down the palace’s halls, evoking no responses from passersby. The Eliskians believed that I was the reason Doldimar had vanished, and so, they accepted my many oddities without a word, even the ones that would normally have them hating me. In fact, many of them called friendly greetings as I passed, something I still found… strange. I paid them no mind, singularly focused on making plans for the next hour.

Soon enough, I reached Eledis’ office, but I didn’t enter. I might need to speak with my grandfather, regardless of if Kylorian showed up here—the time had most certainly come for the second contender of the throne to bow out of our contest—but if possible, I’d like to keep said contender from even entering this room, or… perhaps I simply wanted to see what Kylorian would say if he did go inside. 

Pulling my Ele source around my body, I settled in to wait.

Chapter 64: Immature Boys

Eledis

Most people assume that the person who holds the most power in a realm is the one who wears the crown. I laugh at those assumptions. A nation’s monarch may decide on policy, but who carries out their decisions? The monarch may be the director of our puppet show, to be sure, but we few, the advisors and ministers? We hold the strings.
-Pierdriel, Minister of Finance, Ada’ir

Once again, I contemplated the problem of Raimie. 

Two years had passed since Nylion had presented himself to me for the first time in years, and I still hadn’t come up with a plan to eliminate the threat or at least, not one that would end with me alive afterward. Raimie was too well protected. He had his Hand, five highly trained spies who stuck to him like flies to fruit, and his Eselan friend, Rhylix, who was a powerful primeancer as well as a spectacular swordsman.

Sure, that Eselan was away more often than not now, ranging across Auden’s fringes in pursuit of his singular obsession with finding the missing Dark Lord, but he frequently returned to Elisk, and when he did, it was always at the most unexpected of times and places. Sometimes, he came through the city in a blaze of light, but others, we’d have no idea he was there until he wearily trudged into a meeting.

Of course, I also had to consider the matter of Raimie’s primeancy. In the last two years, the kid had exponentially grown in strength. Towns destroyed by Harvest had been restored by his hand, and without batting an eye, he walked through the shadows from one end of the kingdom to the other in an instant.

At first, I’d thought that I could use Raimie’s flagrant use of primeancy against him. In Auden, wielders of Ele and Daevetch were regarded with far more mistrust and hatred than in the rest of the world because of Doldimar’s oppression, and I’d hoped the vast throng of commoners would turn against Raimie when they’d seen what he could do. The kid and his friends might be able to render many threats harmless, but they’d have a hard time with staying in one piece when under a mob’s care.

That plan had died with a whimper when Raimie’s first visible act as a claimant to the Audish throne had been destroying the pits, the second highest source of terror for the common man. They loved him for it, and he’d built on that adulation by insisting that he address the most challenging of public works himself. With his service, the hearts and minds of the Audish populace had firmly yielded to Raimie’s control.

And so, I was left to rely on Gistrick, the Zrelnach commander who claimed he could fix our problem via some mysteriously awful solution. As time had gone on, he’d gotten increasingly aggravated, especially when it came to his comrades’ inquiries into his plans. He insisted on keeping those plans secret, which I found suspicious as hell, but given my lack of options at the moment, I’d decided to leave it be, happy to have even a vague hope of withstanding the threat of Nylion. That hope, however, didn’t stop me from scheming by myself, when I could.

Huffing irritably, I returned to my work. I was currently struggling through a report about the state of Auden’s coffers. It was dismal reading at best. I didn’t know what had driven Doldimar, but keeping the realm afloat had certainly not been his goal.

Thank Alouin for Kaedesa and the alliance with Ada’ir! Never mind that I despised the price she’d demanded for the cooperation between our kingdoms. Auden needed Ada’ir’s coin if it had any hope of surviving. Infrastructure needed to be rebuilt, trade reestablished, and most importantly, the people needed to be fed while farmers returned to their craft. We’d already made progress in those areas, but a long slog still awaited us.

Yawning, I rubbed my eyes. I hadn’t slept well last night. Nightmares had haunted my dreams, ones where a hostile stranger wearing Raimie’s face had attacked me with a bloody knife. Nylion hadn’t shown his face since that fateful meeting when we’d marched on Elisk, but I knew the aberration was always there, lurking under the surface of Raimie’s forced smile.

When the door creaked open, I jumped in my seat, perfectly aware that I’d almost fallen asleep despite the massive amount of paperwork I needed to finish today.

Glancing up, I tiredly said, “What do you want, Kylorian?”

Standing there, clutching at his tunic’s hem and refusing to look at me, the boy looked so much like my brother, and I had to remind myself that he wasn’t. He was a potential threat.

“I…” he said, swallowing hard. “I need advice.”

Which took me by surprise. After a slow blink, I wordlessly gestured to the chair on the other side of my desk.

After he'd gotten settled, Kylorian said, “I realize how ironic it is that I’m coming to you for this, given… everything. But I’ve been burning a lot of bridges lately, and my father… I can’t go to him with this. He’s already made his opinions known.”

As he made a face, I winced. I’d come to know exactly how hard the leader of Tiro was on his oldest, adoptive son, so I also knew exactly how true Kylorian’s statement was.

“I know you’re not the closest with Raimie,” the kid continued, “but in this case, that might be a good thing. I need a neutral party, or at least, one who’s as neutral as possible. So.”

Still refusing to look at me, he waved my way, and resting my elbows on my desk, I folded my hands in front of my face. Could this be the angle I’d needed to tackle the Nylion problem?

“What’s the issue?” I asked.

Sighing, Kylorian finally met my gaze.

“It’s Raimie,” he said.

Of course it was.

“What about him?” I said. “If you want advice, you’ll need to give me more information.”

“Right, right.”

Slumping, Kylorian fiddled with his fingers, nervously picking at his nails.

Alouin, he was so much like my brother. Ugh… this was going to be difficult, wasn’t it?

Taking a deep breath, the kid said, “I’ve been an asshole to him. For a while now, actually. But just recently, I did something that put my behavior toward him into sharp perspective. Alouin, it was bad.”

Shifting forward, he rested his head in his hands, and while he thought, I gave him silence. Much as I’d like to intrude on this, warping this kid’s feelings about Raimie until they would suit my purpose, he wasn’t done talking. It was best not to interrupt until then.

“So you know, I’m not an idiot,” Kylorian said from where he was hanging his head. “I know Raimie’s won our contest for the throne.”
Huffing, he sat back up with an eye roll.

“Honestly, though? Realizing that has been terrifying but also… a relief,” he continued. “The idea that I’d be king someday has been shoved in my face for my whole life, something that was determined for me long ago, and now that I know it won’t happen, I’ve had time to think about what I want from my life. It’s been… strange but freeing. It’s also increased the pressure from Dury ten-fold, but... that’s not the issue I want to talk about right now.

“I guess… I don’t know how to feel about Raimie. I know he’s a good man. He’s shown me that so many times before, even with what happened to Hadrion. I’ve long since moved past that issue between us, but I’m not sure what to make of his behavior toward Ren.

“He didn’t have to clean up the mess he left behind after breaking things off with her. When I heard the two of them were courting, I was willing to step aside, so to speak, because she seemed happy, and happiness is all I want for her. We lived such horrible lives under Doldimar’s reign. I didn’t want to cause her more problems by making her see… me.”

Ah. He was in love with the girl. That explained a lot. His overprotectiveness of Ren at the last two Anniversary Balls. The rumors I’d heard about how hard he’d worked to keep her at his side. I’d always thought it was a bit much for an adoptive brother, but if he was also in love…

“When Raimie left for Elisk two years ago, Ren wasn’t the same,” Kylorian said. “I’d never seen her cry before then, not even with someone who badly hurt her in the past.

“So, in essence, my problem is as follows. Personally, I like Raimie. I want to be his friend and help him when he eventually becomes king, in whatever way he’ll have me. If I follow that instinct, I’ll need to apologize to him. Make things right. And I’m not sure how to do that.

“I’m also concerned about what might happen between him and Ren. If I follow that instinct, I’ll need to do some things that will cause problems, in order to support her the best way I can. And I’m not sure which of those options I should choose.”

And there it was: the perfect way to sabotage my grandson. It would pain me to take it, but obviously, I would do my best to turn this kid against Raimie. Any ally who could stand with me against the threat of Nylion was worth cultivating.

Before I could, though, an unseen person said, “You are such an idiot, Ky.”

With a pop, Raimie appeared from thin air, and I was so grateful that I’d kept my mouth shut for as long as I had. What would he have done if he’d overheard what I’d been about to say?

When Kylorian turned to the other boy with his mouth gaping, Raimie made a face, waving a hand.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, and I’m sorry about that,” he said, “but it was the only way for me to figure out what was going on with you since you’ve apparently decided it was better to talk about our issues with someone else.”

Slowly closing his mouth, Kylorian winced.

“Fair enough.”

With a heavy sigh, Raimie shook his head before circling in front of the other boy and crouching there.

Looking up at him, Raimie whispered, “You really love her, don’t you?”

Silently, Kylorian nodded, which had Raimie making a face.

“Gods, I’m sorry,” he said, “but you’re wrong about what happened between me and her, Ky. She… left me.”

Stiffening, Kylorian said, “What?”

“You heard me,” Raimie said. “After I told her about Kaedesa’s proposal, Ren told me that our relationship needed to end for the good of Auden. To meet that goal, she wanted me to marry Kaedesa, which I didn’t and still don’t want to do.”

Oh, Alouin. I needed to keep a straight face. I couldn’t let laughter out.

After staring in silence for a moment, Kylorian said, “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”

When Raimie nodded, Kylorian slapped a hand to his face.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he hissed out. “I’ve made such a fool of myself, I’m so sorry.”

Patting his knee, Raimie said, “That’s ok. All I wanted to hear was an apology for earlier. Given everything else you’ve said, I think we’re good.”

But I was still caught on the ridiculousness of what had happened. Unable to contain it any longer, I dissolved into laughter, which only made the youngsters glare at me, but honestly, what had they expected? They were telling one of the oldest stories ever written: a misunderstanding between two boys because of a girl. Really. It was pathetic.

“Please, forgive me,” I gasped, waving a hand at them. “I merely find it amusing that you two have been arguing over Ren when you should be thinking about who will stand in front of me at the investiture one month from now.”

Alouin, their blank stares were delightful, if understandable. I hadn’t told anyone about my plans for the ceremony yet.

Rising to his full height, Raimie cocked his head.

“I thought that’s what we were already doing,” he said. “Kylorian has admitted to something we’ve all known for a few months now, although it took me a while to accept it. So, the concern you mentioned isn’t truly a concern at all, is it, Eledis?”

Ooooh… that smile. Someday, I was going to wipe it off of that kid’s face.

Turning to Kylorian, Raimie said, “And I’d love it if you decided to help me. I’m certainly going to need it. Perhaps we can discuss how that would work before the investiture ceremony.”

“I… would like that,” Kylorian said before softly smiling. “You’re going to be a great king, Raimie.”

Grimacing, Raimie said, “I don’t know about that.”

But then, he turned back to me.

“So, it’ll be me in that awful position one month from now,” he said. “May I leave planning the ceremony with you, Eledis? I have somewhere else I need to be, and I probably won’t be back until right before your imposed deadline.”

Wait, what? If that was true, did that mean Raimie had known what I’d been planning? I didn’t see how he could have made his schedule align with mine if he hadn’t known.

But that would mean he’d outmaneuvered me. Again.

Damn. I really should be proud of him. I wished I could be.

“And where, exactly, will you be going?” I coldly asked.

Smiling, Raimie said, “Qena, the eccentric town near the Wastelands? We received a request for aid while in negotiations with the Matvai. A tear close to the town has been acting strangely, and they asked me to fix it. Not sure where they could have heard about Allanovian and Da’kul, but apparently, someone’s been spreading rumors about those tears.”

Pausing, he frowned.

“I forgot to mention that to Ren earlier. The conversation we planned to have might have to wait for a little while, but… perhaps that’s for the best.”

Ren…? No. Wait. Raimie wanted to go. He’d leave the capital, so soon before a major event, to deal with something as minor as this?

“Raimie. You have matters of state to attend to here,” I said.

“But you’re so good at dealing with those, Eledis!” Raimie said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I assumed that managing Auden was what you wanted. Where would the realm be without the guiding hand of its Chief Minister, after all?”

As I sat there, taking in what the kid had unloaded on me, he turned to Kylorian.

“I’ll see you in one month’s time?”

Smiling, Kylorian said, “It will be my pleasure.”

Striding to the door, Raimie pulled it open and disappeared, and for a moment, both Kylorian and I stared at its wooden surface until the kid’s whistling, heard through it, faded.

“Alouin, he trusts people too much,” Kylorian whispered, almost to himself. “One day, that’ll get him killed.”

With a pained look on his face, he got up, bowing to me.

“Thank you for your help, Eledis,” he said. “It seems all I needed was for another person to listen to my troubles.”

“I’m… happy to have been of service,” I said, still a little stunned.

Chief Minister? Did Raimie know what he’d given me? Hell, with this position, I might finally have everything I’d been needing, for so long now.

As Kylorian left my office, he brushed past Kaedesa, murmuring an apology, and still standing in the doorway, she stared after him for a good, long while, thank Alouin. It gave me time to get my head back on straight.

“What was that about?” Kaedesa said, pointing after Kylorian.

Raising my hands to either side of me, I shrugged.

“The urgency and obliviousness of youth?” I said.

“The young are always in such a hurry, aren’t they?” Kaedesa said, almost contemplatively. “While those who are nearing the end have mellowed. You’d think it would be the opposite.”

Chuckling, I waved her inside, noting the guard from Ada'ir at her side.

“What can I do for you, Your Majesty?” I asked.

As she strolled inside, Kaedesa curiously examined my sparse office. The guard—Raimie's friend, Dath; I believe his name was—remained in the corridor outside. 

“Is it true that the investiture has a date?” she asked.

Hell, how many people had known about this before I’d spoken a word about it?

“Indeed it is!” I said, hoping to disguise my flushed state with enthusiasm. “It’s in one month’s time, on the 10th of Fifth. Why do you ask?”

Trailing a hand over my desk’s surface, Kaedesa said, “I’m simply verifying that Raimie told me the truth earlier.”

“Raimie is many things, but a liar, he is not.”

And I nervously laughed with my heart pounding in my ears. In the months after Doldimar’s disappearance, I’d gotten used to Kaedesa’s unexpected visits. In the beginning stages of reestablishing order, she’d been enormously helpful.

After a last, extended stay with us, though, she’d needed to return to Ada’ir to make sure her power-hungry nobles hadn’t taken advantage of her absence. During that time, I’d missed her more fiercely than I cared to admit, and now, she was back, a few short feet from me.

“You know, Eledis, you’re not as disquieting as I remember,” Kaedesa said.

Leaning over, she snatched a piece of parchment off of my desk with her hair tumbling over her shoulders.

“Thank you. I think,” I said with a dry mouth.

“Perhaps working with you won’t be as difficult as I’d imagined it would be,” she said, scanning her confiscated document.

“Working with me?” I said.

“Yes. If I heard Raimie correctly, you’ll be Chief Minister soon,” Kaedesa said, “and I’ll be the queen of Auden. Given that, I’d imagine that you and I will have many interactions together.”

As my betrayer of a heart froze in my chest, ice washed down my spine.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” I woodenly said.

Kaedesa flicked her eyes up to me, and that was enough to jolt my heart into an even rhythm once more, even if it didn’t beat quite as rapidly as before.

“I don’t know,” she whispered with her face scrunched. “Something about you… it’s like I’ve known you for my whole life.”

Roughly shaking her head, Kaedesa cleared her throat.

“Thank you for confirming Raimie’s claim,” she said.

She left, abandoning me to my study, deep within a black palace’s confines. My only companion here was my battered and befuddled heart.

Chapter 65: The Results of My Actions

Kylorian

Well, I’d completely and totally messed that up. 

Not that this was surprising. I’d been messing up a lot of things lately, so this newest version of it didn’t make me want to recoil as much as some of my other mistakes had done.

Still. I couldn’t believe I’d accused Raimie of… that. He’d never shown any sign of being the sort of person who would intentionally hurt another person, and he certainly wouldn’t hurt someone in that specific way, but when I’d run across him and Ren on my way to visit Ivelais, my mind had jumped off of its track. For a single moment, it hadn’t been them on that blanket, and a piece of the past had spliced into the present.

I’d still been trapped in that long-gone moment when I’d come roaring into Ren and Raimie’s presence. That didn’t excuse what I’d done, not in the slightest, but it made me feel less like a worm for it than I’d felt about other things lately.

Besides that, Raimie had already forgiven me. I didn’t know why he’d done that—I’d have had trouble doing the same in his place—but I wasn’t going to question it.

Now, I needed to find Ren so I could apologize to her, begging for her forgiveness if I must, but once that painful conversation was over, maybe I could finally take care of the problems that had inadvertently caused so many of my screw ups lately.

It took a while, but I eventually came across Ren in the palace, which wasn’t at all where I’d expected to find her. She’d always professed a deep wariness of this building, claiming that when she was inside its black walls, it felt like the dead were looming over her head.

I could understand that. Given how gloomy the palace was—with its shiny, dark walls and sparsely placed lanterns—it certainly reminded me of a graveyard, or at least, a graveyard found anywhere but in Tiro. Most cities used a more traditional burial of the dead when compared to my home.

When I ran across her, Ren was in a random hallway in the east wing of the palace, talking to the guard Raimie always had around him. Seeing them together, I slowed down, keeping to the shadows as I approached. I didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, especially if it concerned anything I shouldn’t know about, but I also needed to speak with Ren as soon as possible. Better to be nearby once she was done with the guard.

“-appreciate what you did today,” she was saying as I came closer. “Seems you remembered our conversation from years ago.”

Crossing his arms, Oswin said, “Of course I did. Do you remember everything we talked about that day?”

Flushing, Ren ducked her head, kicking the floor.

“Yes, I do,” she said before fixing her gaze on Oswin. “I’m not going to cause him problems again. I know I’ve complicated his life simply by being near him, what with his betrothal and the coming investiture, but this time, I mean to let him make the decision about how he wants to handle this part of his life. Whatever he decides to do, I’ll help him with it, even if it means I can’t be in his life. I do not want to hurt him, Oswin. I promise you.”

After examining Ren for a moment, the guard jerked his head in a sharp nod.

“I believe you,” he said. “If you or Raimie have any trouble with resolving the mentioned issues, please come to me or my subordinates. We can help, if you want us to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ren said. “Meanwhile, where is Raimie? He and I need to talk sometime soon.”

When Oswin stiffened, already looking uncomfortable, I decided this was the best time to reveal my presence, if the two of them hadn’t already known I was here. With this, I could start paying back the debt that I owed my friend.

“He and I just finished speaking, actually,” I called. “He asked me to share that he’d forgotten about a task he meant to undertake, so he’s leaving for Qena to do that. I’m supposed to relay his apology and his promise to find you as soon as he’s back in Elisk.”

Jerking her head to me, Ren narrowed her eyes before returning her attention to Oswin as if I hadn’t spoken. Right. I hadn’t apologized to her yet, and based off of how she’d already greeted me, I was probably in for some harsh words from her soon.

Meanwhile, the guard held my gaze for the time it took me to join the two of them, presenting nothing but neutrality to me, but I knew how much I’d probably upset him too. He’d been there when I’d royally fucked up. I didn’t know how I could fix that piece of my mistake, though, so I focused on Ren.

Resolutely keeping her eyes on Oswin, she said, “You’re not accompanying him this time?”

After a moment more of staring at me, Oswin turned to Ren.

“No. I have to make preparations for the investiture in a month’s time,” he said.

“Of course! That makes perfect sense,” Ren said with a half-smile. “Then, who’s with Raimie? I remember how utterly reckless that ridiculous man can be, so please tell me you'll send someone with him.”

Oswin responded with his own smirk.

“Naturally,” he drawled. “Little will be with him for his trip to Qena and back. Unless Raimie decides to ditch my subordinate, he’ll have someone watching his back.”

“But given how idiotic he can be about that sometimes, that’s not guaranteed,” Ren said with a sigh. “If things turn out well between us, you and I will need to have a long conversation about how I can help you and your people with convincing Raimie that it’s ok to rely on others at times.”

Oswin’s smirk grew into a full-blown smile as he chuckled.

“I’ll preemptively wish us good luck with that. Raimie’s always been stubborn about asking for help,” he said, “but that’s for the future. I have a few things I should take care of before he leaves the palace. If you don’t mind?”

“No, of course not. You should do what you must,” Ren said, waving at him. “Besides, Kylorian and I have a few things to discuss. Don’t we?”

On acknowledging me for the first time, Ren glared at me, positively steaming with annoyance, and seeing that, I meekly nodded. This was going to be fun.

“In that case.”

Oswin performed the shortest bow possible to me and Ren, leaving me unsure if he’d meant that as a slight or not, but he raced off soon afterward, and I was left with an exceedingly upset woman.

Before she could get started, I threw up a hand.

“Let me say something first, all right?”

Ren might narrow her eyes, but she also gave me a tight nod.

“Everything you said after I fucked up. You were right about it all,” I said. “I’m sorry that I barged in on you two like that. I know how much that reunion must have meant to you, and I thoroughly messed it up. I’m sorry for accusing Raimie of anything untoward. He didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry for implying you couldn’t handle yourself. It’s been years since… Josenik. I should have known better than to assume you need protection by now. You can be mad at me for as long as you want, but please know that I know I made a mistake. Ok?”

Ren silently watched me for a while, long enough that I was incredibly tempted to fidget, but I kept still, waiting for her judgment. After a long while of this pure torture, she let out a long sigh before rubbing her temples.

“Ok,” she said. “Have you apologized to Raimie yet?”

Thank Alouin that Raimie had shown up during my conversation with Eledis. Otherwise, I’d have Ren hounding me about that for however long it took me to gather the courage to approach him.

But because he had, I got to say, “Of course. He was more gracious toward me than I have any right to, and I’m grateful for that. We still have a lot to talk about when he returns from Qena, but I think we might be good now, despite all the ways our relationship has been complicated over the last few years."

Hearing that, Ren relaxed more fully.

“Ok,” she said once more before jabbing me in the chest. “I’m still pissed at you and probably will be for a little while, but I’ll get over it soon enough.”

And wasn’t that a relief to hear? Still, it left me with no idea about what else I could say to her. I stood, fully captured by this awkwardness, until Ren clicked her tongue.

“So? Didn’t you have something you were planning on doing before all this drama happened?” she said “We’re good for now, you and I. So, get going!”

Nervously laughing, I said, “I will. Just…”

Hell, I shouldn’t say this, especially given everything that had happened over the last day, but I couldn’t make myself stop.

“I know you can watch your own back, Ren, but please, be careful when getting involved with Raimie again,” I said. “I’ve learned how things went down the first time, so I don’t blame him for it anymore, and given how badly you’ve been missing him over the last two years, it seems pretty obvious that you should try again.”

No matter how much that was going to kill me.

“But I can’t stand to see you like you were after the first time your relationship broke down,” I continued. “I just… can’t. Watching you cry like that and being unable to help with it was incredibly painful, no matter that you had every right to mourn what you’d lost, in both senses.”

At the reminder of how closely Hadrion’s death and the ending of Ren’s relationship with Raimie had coincided, I managed to slam my lips closed. Hell, I shouldn’t have gone that far, especially given how much of an ass I’d been to her about it at the time, but fortunately, Ren simply half-smiled at me.

“I hear what you’re saying beneath the word bumbling you just did,” she said. “You’re worried. I get it. I promise I’ll be careful with protecting my emotional state. How about you start doing the same with yourself?”

I didn’t understand what she was talking about. For the most part, I tried to stay out of anything that would be emotionally risky. Why would I need to be more protective of myself in that way?

After a beat of quiet, Ren raised an eyebrow, perhaps realizing that I didn’t have any clue what she meant.

“The thing you were planning to do?” she said. “On the way to the capital, you mentioned it might help with your anxiety?”

Oh, shit. I’d actually admitted that out loud to her? Damn.

Grimacing, I said, “I take your point. Thank you, Ren. I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be somewhere around here for the rest of the day,” she said, “and from what I understand, we’re staying at the same inn tonight, so yes. I’ll see you there.”

I badly wanted to hug Ren and release the leftover tension hanging between us, but she’d said she was still upset with me. I didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable right now, so before I turned to go, I only smiled at her. Then, I was heading down the palace’s hallways, hoping to reach its exits as soon as I could. Ren’s anxiety about this place seemed to have affected me today as well. 

Or maybe that was the general state of anxiety I’d been dealing with since conceding in the contest for the throne. My head was throbbing something fierce right now, but considering how constant that pain had been over the last two years, I’d gradually learned to deal with it when it came around, or at least, I’d learned how to deal with it over short periods of time.

The solution for it lay in my next destination.

Chapter 66: Ivelais

Kylorian

 

In the city proper, people milled about on the streets, forcing me to duck and dodge between them. This didn’t usually bother me. For the most part, I’d grown up in Tiro, one of the most crowded populations in Auden, but today, every individual who blocked my path added another spike of irritation to an already fatly packed weight. I’d started imaging bloody deaths for the few incredibly oblivious people among the crowd by the time I’d reached one of Elisk’s abandoned neighborhoods. There, I could take a moment to catch my breath.

I was glad Elisk’s streets were busy and bustling. I was glad that a sense of energy and hopefulness had been injected into its citizens. I was also teetering on a line that I’d had to balance for a while now, and anything that could make me fall off of it wasn’t welcome.

The eerie quiet of the abandoned neighborhood I’d entered quickly dampened the sounds of trade and life found outside of it, and once those sounds had fallen away, a shiver rumbled down my spine. Ren said she thought the palace was haunted? I thought she was more likely to run across ghosts in one of these places.

Throughout the years of Elisk’s revitalization, certain parts of the city had remained abandoned, no matter what sort of enticement Auden’s government had placed in front of the newcomers. 

While Doldimar had still been in power, the news of Harvests would spread across the nation, but this had mostly been at the Audish population’s behest. Receiving news of which town had undergone that horrible ritual could inform one on whether family in distant parts of the land was still alive.

Because of this, almost everyone in Auden knew which of Elisk’s districts had last undergone a Harvest, and said districts had become miniature ghost towns within the city’s wall. Who wanted to live in the home of someone who’d likely been brutally murdered within the last five years? Most people would rather occupy a place whose former owners might have faded from memory.

This had been advantageous for me because it had provided a way to keep Ivelais hidden while in a place I regularly visited. For a while, we’d tried having them follow behind my traveling group or staying in the wilderness, but those hiding places had proved inconvenient for me and not at all acceptable for Ivelais themselves. Risking a possible haunting had seemed better to both of us, especially given how little either of us  believed such superstitious nonsense.

I followed the signs they'd left to their latest accommodations until those stopped at a modest two-story building with a small courtyard in front of it. Hopping up the steps to its front door, I let myself inside, listening to the door close in the utter silence beyond.

“Ivelais?” I called into this.

I got nothing back, but I'd expected that. Most of the time, Ivelais liked to greet me in a certain type of way, and in anticipation of this, I drew my sword, loosely holding it at my side, before walking further into the house.

With candles and lanterns unlit, the house gave off even more of an eerie feel than the district outside, but right now, I thoroughly appreciated that. For reasons I didn’t quite understand, Ivelais put a lot of work into making our reunions as memorable as possible, all to help us with the lingering, bullshit emotions we carried from our past mistakes.

Through a kitchen full of rotten food and broken plateware, past a pitch-black bedroom, out onto a narrow balcony, and right back inside. I didn’t see a single trace of them, and after several minutes of searching the house, I wondered if I’d followed an old set of their signs to an abandoned hideout. 

As I was making my way to the house’s front door, a creak behind me gave me a split second to spin and raise my sword before a gleaming sharp edge slammed down onto it. The person behind this attack manically grinned at me with their mousy brown hair frazzled around their head. 

“Kylorian,” they said.

Returning their smile in a much more vicious manner, I growled, “Ivelais.”

When I shoved them, they followed the force of that motion, gracefully skittering backward, and I was left off-balance for a heartbeat. I was surprised when Ivelais didn’t take advantage of my unsteadiness, waiting for me to regain my balance instead, but it wasn’t surprising enough to make me stop. 

I swung at their chest, using that to hide when I drew a knife, and once it was in my hand, I stabbed for Ivelais’ neck. They merely blocked and subsequently, swayed away from my attack. 

That was fine, though. Following the momentum of my swing, I sidestepped around their bent-back body, ready to sweep my sword back the other way and into their stomach. Ivelais, however, spun out of my reach as I was moving, and before I could recover, they’d stepped forward enough to leave a nick on my arm. In the next breath, blood started welling from that opening, and for both an instant and the length of eternity, I stared at the evidence of my weakness before something inside snapped.

I was roaring and banging down on Ivelais’ weapons, thirsting to break through their defenses. I needed to see my enemy destroyed, needed to see their blood sprayed across the walls and floor, needed to revel in the feel of flesh-soon-to-go-cold. It was a red-hot, glorious enticement or maybe excitement, running through my veins, through my mind, and gods, it felt good, it felt good, it felt so damn good! 

I was lost in it, screaming and crying and watching from a vast distance as the strength running through my arms overcame the weakness in my enemy’s. Their sword slipped out of their fingers, and my body drove theirs into a wall. I pressed my forearm down on their throat, watching the black vines beneath it bulge, and drew back to punch a knife through their open mouth.

“Kylorian,” they calmly said. “Do you really want to kill me?”

That brought me up short, introducing a slight pause in the rush pounding through my body, and within that moment of clarity, I hovered, knowing something was wrong. Unsure what it was. What was I missing here?

“Kylorian, listen to me,” my enemy repeated. “Do you really want to kill me?”

That was the problem. I knew this enemy. It was Ivelais, and they… they were staring at me, waiting for me to decide if I was going to end their life.

Stumbling away from them, I coughed out, “Fuck.”

Then, I turned away, rubbing my face.

After a tense pause, Ivelais said, “I gather you’ve been stressed lately, then.”

When I nodded, they hummed before stepping forward to rub my back.

“Well, you stopped before anything irreversible could happen,” they said. “I’ll take that.”

Growling into my hands, I said, “It’s such bullshit that you’re saying something like that. I made the mistake. d nearly killed you. That’s not something you should have to experience and then say, ‘No harm, no foul’.”

Sighing, Ivelais rubbed my back in two more circles before dropping their hand.

“Sure, you ‘made the mistake’, but we both know something else was driving you,” they said. “Asshole people made us this way. The best we can do is muddle through every ugly behavior that they engrained in us, trying to change the pattern when those bad habits raise their head, and have grace for each other when we fail. Besides, I was the one who attacked you, if you’ll recall.”

I released an explosive breath as I flung my hands down to my side.

“Stop trying to make me feel better. It only makes it worse,” I said. “Let’s just… check in, like we always do. Ok?”

Shrugging, Ivelais said, “Sure.”

They turned toward a hallway leading deeper into the house, and I followed them, trying to determine where we were going by examining our surroundings over their shorter stature. When Ivelais eventually led me into a gathering room of some sort, they lit a candelabra on a low-to-the-ground table, and I took a seat in an armchair, running my eyes over their body as I did.

The black vines creeping over the join of their arms and shoulders hadn’t advanced much since I’d last seen them, but the ones that flowed up their neck had almost reached their chin now, which was problematic. If those awful things must advance beyond where they’d originally been placed, why couldn’t they have done that in a less visible manner?

“So,” Ivelais said, “how did things in Sotchal-?”

“Raimie’s going to be king,” I blurted out, unable to wait until they’d finished speaking. “I couldn’t keep pretending that I had a chance, so I backed out. He’ll be the one on the throne.”

Pausing in taking their seat, Ivelais glanced up as if assessing me before pursing their lips.

“That could cause problems for you,” they said.

With a groan, I hunched forward until my head was hanging between my knees.

“I know,” I said, drawling out the word as if continuing to speak it might stave off anything else Ivelais might say.

It didn’t, of course.

After a beat of silence, they said, “That explains why you were so gung-ho in our tiff today. Usually, you actively enjoy a surprise attack from me when you get back.”

From where I was still hanging, I nodded.

“They remind me that I’m not playing a game with you,” I said. “You’ve never tried to manipulate me with words, always telling me exactly what bad thing will happen before it comes. An active fight instead of false hugs is definitely the best way to greet me.”

“For now,” Ivelais said under their breath.

I ignored them, making myself sit upright.

“One good thing to report, though,” I said. “Raimie and I have made up, so he’s offered me a place in his government. That should keep the pressure off from him.”

Which was good. I still didn’t know how to refuse anything that he might ask. Every time he brought me a demand, I was a little boy at his feet again, fervently hoping he wouldn’t do to me what he’d once done to my childhood caretakers.

“That is good,” Ivelais said. “Maybe we can work on your resistance in the meantime. Stall as much as possible while we do that.”

With a tired nod, I said, “That’s what I was thinking, yes. How are things with you?”

When Ivelais winced, I held up my hand.

“That bad, huh? Well, you don’t have to go into detail unless you want to,” I said, pausing before asking a question I’d already asked a thousand times. “Are you sure you won’t go to Raimie with this? He’d take your Corruption away if you asked.”

Quickly, Ivelais jerked their face to the side, but not before I spotted it starting to sour.

“You know I can’t do that,” they snapped. “Any time I even think about it, my thoughts drift away from the idea, and when I do manage to stay on topic, I can’t make my body move. I get trapped in it, and that feels…”

They shuddered, and I reached over to squeeze their hand. That was one of many experiences that we’d both experienced at one point or another.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know Enforcer Coleath was only able to complete the Vice on you because you came after me when Hadrion… after Hadrion. You’re in this situation because of me-”

“Don’t you dare,” Ivelais said.

Jerking back toward me, they cupped my cheek, making sure I was listening. It was what they’d always done when I’d tried to express my guilt over what had happened to them.

“I ran after you because I made a mistake with you,” they said, “and because of that, we’re both in a situation we’d rather never have taken on, but that’s why we work together, right? Because our mutual mistakes and our individual pasts make it possible for us to understand one another, better than most people could. I’m here to help you. You help me, as much as you can, and hey! At least I only have the one order to obey. You got me out before Enforcer Coleath could give me more.”

“Stay away from Raimie, yes. I know that’s part of what’s kept you Kiraak,” I said.

We sat in silence for a while before I hesitantly continued.

“I could always ask Raimie to come here in your stead. I know that might not be what you want but…”

With a wry smile, Ivelais glanced back at me.

“You’re welcome to try,” they said. “I’m curious if you’ll remember to do it before or after you have a conversation with him about your own problems."

At that, I dropped their hand like it was made of acid.

“Yes, bringing him up will be difficult,” I said.

I still wasn’t sure if I could do it. I’d meant to as soon as Ren and I had returned to the capital, but with how badly I’d messed up today, I wasn’t sure if or when I’d be able to ask Raimie for the favor that I had planned. When would I have made up for my mistake enough to do that?

And with the investiture in a month, he was going to be busy, even if he’d left Eledis to manage the ceremony itself. I wasn’t sure he realized how much would be asked from him, both before and after that awful thing was over.

Oh, hell. The investiture… That meant….

“Gods,” I whispered, mostly to myself. “He’ll be coming to Elisk soon.”

Tanwadur. When was the last time I’d seen my father?

That snapped Ivelais’ attention fully onto me.

“Oh, Kylorian,” they softly said. “I’m so sorry. That on top of everything else… it’s going to be a difficult few weeks for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said in a strangled voice.

But I couldn’t let it phase me. I had to get through it because on the other side of the investiture, I’d have a time of peace and calm. If Raimie truly meant to offer me a place at his side, no matter how far away from him it might be, then I might have a chance to escape from him as well.

I could hold it together for a few weeks. I had to.

Still, I’d absolutely need help with it, so I faced Ivelais, meeting their eyes.

“Do you have any ideas for ways I can keep it together while that bastard’s here?” I asked.

Ivelais’ fierce smile made me shiver, even if it also spawned a grin of my own as well.

“Plenty, all born from experience,” they said. “Once you’ve started practicing these techniques, the next few weeks won’t be able to touch you. You and I, Kylorian? We can make an unstoppable team when we put our minds together. So, let’s do that.”

Hell, what reassurance they gave me! This relationship, born of secrecy and sealed by the damage we'd done to each other, shouldn’t be as amiable or life-saving as it had been over the last few years, but that was what it had become. A bond that I could no longer do without.

The thought of how attached I’d become to Ivelais scared me at times. Not right now, though. Right now, I smirked right back at them.

“Yes, let’s,” I said.

Chapter 67: Searching

Rhylix

 

A powerful gust of wind knocked me sideways, lifting my feet off of the ground. Before the storm could send me tumbling, I called to the Ele beneath me, attracting it to what was found within my feet. Landing with a thud, I blasted a spray of light in front of me to correct my fall. After so many hours beneath thick cloud cover, that light blinded me, and blinking stars away, I released the Ele binding me to the earth, preparing for another burst of flight.

“Duck!” Creation yelled, clearly audible over the storm’s howling.

I dove forward as something—a boulder? a wood beam?—whistled by overhead before rolling to my feet. Sprinting forward, I was startled when I stumbled upon the dark splotch that I’d spotted before the storm wall had hit. 

I could only guess how these ruined walls had survived within the Wastelands for as long as they had, and with a roof no less. However this shelter had managed to stay upright, I was grateful for it. Slumping in the corner furthest from the wind and rain, I shivered, longing for a fire or even better, a bed piled with blankets.

“Remind me why we’re out here again?” Creation said.

I tried to answer them, but even at my loudest volume, I couldn’t compete with the screaming winds around us. Instead, I met Creation’s gaze and expansively shrugged. Hugging my arms around my bent knees, I hunkered down to outwait the gale, silently praying to gods I didn’t believe in.

When calm descended once more, it took me by surprise. For hours, the wind had been weakening. What might have tossed me around like a rag doll before had died down to, if not a gentle breeze, at least something that couldn’t cause me harm, and the sheets of rain that had shot from the sky like a curtain of icy needles had slowed to a lazy drizzle.

Considering my legs had cramped while waiting for this change, I stretched them in front of me.

“I thought I’d find Doldimar here,” I said in answer to Creation’s earlier question. “The Wastelands seem like a paradise for him. Since it’s constantly barraged by monsoons from the Accession Tear, I thought the maelstrom would attract him like a bee to pollen.”

“If he took refuge here, where would he have hoarded his Kiraak army?” Creation asked. “As a rule, he may not care if they live or die, but without a constant stream of humans to transform, he’s forced to conserve the ones he controls.”

“See? This is why every once in a while, we should work together,” I said, peeking around my shelter to scan the sky. “If you’d made that point before we left Qena, we might have avoided spending so much time in this desolate land.”

Clicking their tongue, Creation looked away from me. 

“You know I can be useful to you,” they said. “Why do you refuse my help so often?”

“Because in general, you’ve been an ass,” I said. “Now, which way to the tear?”

Creation grimaced, but in answer, they moved in the direction opposite the one I’d been planning to head in.

“You know, for a long time, I found you intolerable as well,” Creation said with their arms crossed. “You had this insufferable air of righteousness about you, and when it came time to kill Arivor, you’d refuse your destiny. Every damn time. It frustrated me to no end, and… I didn’t understand.

“So, I forced you to kill your friend because I thought I knew best, what with you being a limited, mortal being. I resigned myself to an eternity of verbal abuse from you, but somewhere between cycles two and three hundred, you gave up. Something broke in you, and I couldn’t figure out what had caused it. I found that I missed the defiant spark I’d found so incredibly frustrating at the beginning.

“I’m glad it has returned.”

For a while, I trailed behind Creation with pursed lips.

Eventually, I said, “Well now I feel like an ass.”

“Why?” Creation said, chuckling. “You were right, after all. In most instances, I do act in an ass-like manner, but Eriadren, you’ve kept me away from the whole for longer than usual this cycle. Some of your traits have rubbed off on me, and I haven’t had the time or inclination to wash them away in the whole yet.”

“Huh,” I said. “I’ve always wondered why you splinters become more tolerable the more time you spend with your primeancers.”

Cocking their head, Creation said, “Why didn’t you ask me about it?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

As the first caresses of sunlight pierced through dissolving clouds, I lifted my face to them.

“Maybe my responsibility for Arivor stole my focus away from other questions I had. Maybe my guilt over the experiment that started this cascading disaster wouldn’t let me indulge the scientist within for a while. I know that at one point, I just didn’t care, eliminating everything in me except for what was needed to kill Doldimar. Perhaps I should have figured out how the forces that underpin our world work before now, but too much has been working against me for that to be possible. Until now.”

Creation didn’t have a reply for that confession, which was a perfect happenstance for me. I was finished sharing with them. This camaraderie with my ‘babysitter’ was still new, even years after it had started, and while it was intriguing and worth pursuing, I couldn’t bring myself to trust it.

So, instead, I turned my attention to my surroundings, curious to see the aftermath of the storm. 

There wasn’t much to see. Without a mountain range to break the hurricanes’ fury, this narrow strip of land on Auden’s southwestern border endured wave after wave of stormy destruction. The Wastelands were devoid of life, besides grass and tough, low-to-the-ground plants. Wood beams and ship masts were littered across the ground, an oddity considering my current distance from the coast, and here and there, boulders from the tiny to the huge haphazardly sat on a green carpet.

Occasionally, miraculous ruins would rise from the earth to stand tall and proud against the fury of wind and rain, but these lone warriors were the last of their kind. In general, the Wastelands was exactly that: a verdant, green land of rubbish.

The last few days, spent traversing a windswept landscape, had been incredibly lonely and taxing for me, so I was looking forward to my return to civilization. For the moment, though, I was still in this desolate place, but at least the sun had shown its face once more.

“I’m sorry,” Creation said.

They’d been walking ahead of me with their chin tucked to their chest, and on hearing those two words, I stumbled to a stop.

“You’re… sorry?” I repeated, unsure if I’d heard them correctly. “For what?”

“For what we did. We never should have claimed you. After your first round of death, you should have stayed dead,” Creation said. “I hope you can understand. What we did was instinctual. My whole doesn’t have logic behind it. It does as its nature prescribes. We splinters who are active on the physical plane try to influence it, but our effort don’t count for much when dealing with something that’s equivalent to gravity or heat. The whole is a force. So, when the enemy claimed Arivor, gaining a gateway to the physical plane, we reacted by latching onto you.

“That doesn’t mean that we made your life easy. I’m sorry. I wish it had been different.”

My mouth had been left gaping. I knew this, but I couldn’t seem to close it.

What was wrong with this cycle? First, a dual primeancer. Then, Ele’s retreat from the physical plane and now, this? How the hell was I supposed to respond?

“All right.”

With nothing else, I started walking again.

“All right? That’s it?” Creation said. “The force that composes all of reality’s positive traits apologizes to you, and you say, ‘all right’.”

Glancing at them, I half-smiled.

“Sorry I made you mortal, if only for a moment,” I said.

Growling, Creation marched ahead of me until they were out of hearing range, which only made me smirk. They’d begun to act like a living, breathing physical being. What other emotional reactions might I pull from Creation in the future?

On considering that, I realized my life had suddenly become much more interesting.

When Qena’s distinctive windmills appeared on the horizon, I nearly cried with relief. Two more storms had blown overhead while I’d made my way to safety, and during one of them, Ele had responded to my call more sluggishly that it usually did. If I hadn’t found a patch of tall grass to sink my fingers into, the winds might have carried me gods knew how far before releasing me.

It had been almost two years since Creation and Order had told me that Ele was abandoning me, two years that had felt ten times longer. The unexpected days when I’d woken up and could barely get out of bed, so disconnected had I been from me; the growing fissure of gaping wrongness that had widened with every passing day. Each of these had plagued me with increasing frequency over the years.

At times, I wished that the splinters had never told me about Ele’s abandonment. It was petty, I knew, but sometimes, I wondered if I didn’t know why these misfortunes had afflicted me, whether it would hurt quite so badly or whether my ignorance would somehow dull what was wrong. Thank Alouin, today was one of my good days, one where I almost felt normal.

Qena was in sight, which meant the storms’ frequency should slow to near nothing now. The tiny village rested between the two mountain ranges on Auden’s southern border, separating that realm from the Wastelands. These mountains shielded Qena from most of the hurricanes that plagued its barren neighbor, but every couple of decades, one would make its way far enough inland to funnel into the pass, temporarily increasing in strength until it could peter out on the other side.

Only the craziest of people would want to live in a location under constant threat of destruction, but that was Qena for you. They were an eccentric bunch, to say the least.

The village had originally been founded to study the nearby tear, the largest one in Auden, but out of necessity, that study had branched into other disciplines as well. For example, when Doldimar had demanded more provisions from the Qenans than they could provide at the time, they’d created windmills, mechanisms that harnessed the pass’s constant wind flow to quickly grind grain into flour.

People whispered that once, when this region’s Enforcer had slated Qena for Harvest, its villagers had concocted contraptions that could hoist people into the air so they could rain death on the hostile Kiraak. Recently, rumors about the town had gone quiet, but a silence like that usually meant the bizarre villagers were in the middle of developing something big, something that would again rock Auden with its audacity.

As I approached the windmills, I considered how I felt about Qena, quickly settling on unsure. On the one hand, a town of scientists, working together to discover the world’s natural properties and laws, would have enamored Eriadren, but on the other hand, I was terrified that if these people realized who and what I was, they’d hack me into pieces to figure out how I ticked. It had happened often enough before.

No matter how I felt about the village, I’d never had any doubt about entering it again. I’d exhausted my food supply days ago, and while Ele refused to let me starve to death, starving by itself seemed acceptable to it. Plus, after the week I’d had, a night in an actual bed sounded glorious.

“Afternoon!” said a man from atop the fence that hemmed Qena’s border. “Never thought we’d be seeing you again.”

“What can I say? Mother Nature decided she didn’t like the way I tasted.”

Stepping around the fence, I hurried for the town’s decrepit inn as quickly as I could. I was hoping to draw as little attention to myself as possible, although upon approaching town square, it appeared that task might not be as daunting as I’d thought.

Qena had a large town hall replete with windows, an odd display of prosperity in such a remote location. Considering this building was where the Qenans taught their children, performed experiments, and worked on community projects, town hall’s status as the finest building in a village of scientists and engineers seemed only natural. To them, it was comparable to a hall of worship.

A contingent of soldiers had formed a ring around the hall, dressed in the buttoned jackets and loose slacks of the military uniform, and around them, a crowd was watching, all alight with hope and eager devotion.

I wandered toward the back of it.

“You’re back,” a young voice piped up beside me.

When I looked down, I smiled at the child gazing back at me. She shoved her thumb into her mouth, clutching her patched, stuffed bear more tightly.

Such a strange sight, a child. In Allanovian, children had been kept separate from the rest of the community to keep them safe, and since leaving that metaphorical prison, my circumstances hadn’t exactly been conducive to meeting one.

Crouching, I told this wondrous little girl, “I am. I said I would, didn’t I?”

Thoughtfully considering me, she popped her thumb out of her mouth.

“Will you do another light show for me?” she asked.

Snorting, I pressed my palm to my mouth. Gods, I’d forgotten what children could be like.

“I can’t right now, sweetling,” I said before leaning in conspiratorially. “There are too many people around, but maybe I can later, all right?”

She nodded as if I’d asked the most solemn of favors.

“Do you know why the army’s here, little one?” I asked, gesturing toward the soldiers.

“They’re here to protect someone, I think,” she said. “They’re going to fix the tear for us.”

I couldn’t help it. I tried to restrain the noise, but a laugh flew out of me like a bird escaping from its opened cage, and I rocked in place. With her brow crinkling, the child frowned at me.

“Did I say something funny?” she asked.

“It wasn’t you, sweetling. Just a funny set of circumstances,” I said, patting her head. “Do you know where your parents are?”

Vigorously nodding, she pointed at a couple who were each raised on their tiptoes to get a better look at the soldiers.

“Make sure you stay with them, otherwise I might not be able to find you for your light show,” I said.

Her eyes widened, and without another word, she scurried to join the couple. After watching to make sure she'd reached them, I pushed through the crowd, using gentle shoves and short bursts of Ele to clear a path. On reaching the front of it, I scanned the soldiers’ faces, confident that one of the Hand would be here, and sure enough, there he was.

“Hey, little soldiers!” I called over the crowd’s heads.

Hopefully, that wouldn’t distinguish Little too much from his comrades. At the greeting, the spy snapped his eyes toward me, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword, and I waved.

Little burst out laughing, making the other soldiers uneasily stare at him. The spy’s scars made it difficult to find him anything but unnerving. White lines ran in no discernible pattern over his face, and his mouth was unnaturally deformed, all of which lent Little a discomfiting presence.

In past conversations, Little had shared how much he both delighted in and hated the changes to his features. I wasn’t sure why he was so dead set against romantic prospects that he was grateful to be this scarred, but I did know that he didn’t like how much attention they drew his way.

As soon as I broke into the space between the crowd and the soldiers, Little pulled me close, pounding on my back.

Holding me at arm’s length, he said, “It’s good to see you, Rhy! What a coincidence!”

“There’s no such thing as coincidence. Not in our world,” I said, even as I grinned. “I hear Raimie’s come to Qena. I guess that’s why you’re here too.”

“Someone needs to watch his back, whether he likes it or not,” Little said. “Come inside. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when you walk into the room.”

Chapter 68: The First of Them

Rhylix

 

As Little and I made our way toward town hall, the other soldiers reluctantly let me through their line, staring at my gray eyes. Many of the people who’d enlisted into the army after Doldimar’s disappearance had been Conscripted soldiers, people eager to cast off his shackles and the atrocities that had been forced from them. Once, they’d worked closely with the Dark Lord, and to them, gray eyes were a mark of madness and cruelty, or at least, that had been my experience among them to date. Little had greeted me as a friend, though, so no one protested as we slipped into town hall.

“What are you doing in Qena?” Little asked.

We were walking down a wide corridor, lined with tools and half-finished contraptions, and at the question, I bit my lip, considering how to answer.

“Same thing as ever. Looking for Doldimar,” I eventually said. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Spying a door ahead, I peeled off toward it before Little could express any doubt that he might have for my mission. I was sick of hearing people insist that Doldimar had well and truly left Auden. There was no need to listen to that derisive spiel from Little, a kid I’d grown close with in the years since the Dark Lord’s disappearance. I might even hesitantly call him a friend.

So, I ran away from Little’s reply, ducking into a room set up like a laboratory. Waist-high counters formed a ring around the room, topped with test tubes, beakers, and the fancy, gas-fed burners that the Qenans used. Only one bench was currently in use, and I snatched the wrist of the teenager sitting at it. With her brilliantly red hair dangling dangerously close to flames, she’d been poised to add her dropper’s contents to the powdery substance dusting the beaker below her.

Glancing at me, the teenager raised an eyebrow.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

Nodding toward her experiment, I said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. At least not without proper protective equipment.”

The girl’s eyes flashed, although I couldn’t say if it was with interest or anger. When I gently loosened my hold on her wrist, she set the dropper aside.

“Why would I need PPE right now?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. “I’m adding dirty water to crushed rock. I expect to see some fizzing, but no more violent of a reaction than that. I’m bored! The others won’t let me work on their secret project, and I’ve been fiddling with the elder’s ‘safe’ experiments for ages. I want to try something new.”

Crossing my arms, I suppressed a smile.

“The liquid in that dropper is as much water as I am a human, and I think you know it, given how carefully you were handling it,” I said. “From the color, I’d say it probably burned your skin when you took a sample. Am I right?”

“It might have stung a bit, yes,” she said. “How did you-?”

“And I know that mineral. It’s rather beautiful before it’s ground up like this,” I interrupted. “I’ve seen those two substances combined before, and the results weren’t pleasant. People died. I’d rather not have a repeat of that accident, so please, at least wear a mask and gloves when playing with unknown substances like this.”

My warning didn’t seem to faze this girl. In fact, she scooted forward, cupping her chin in her hands.

“What happened?” she asked. “In your accident, I mean.”

I flinched. That had been stupid. I should have known she’d want more information after I’d shared my experience. I’d have wanted the same at her age.

If I didn’t give her an answer, I had no doubt that this teenager would finish what she’d started with even more eagerness than before. So, I carefully extracted the single memory that I needed from the container it rested inside, slamming the door shut before more could flood through.

“At first? Nothing,” I said, distantly noting how detached I sounded. “The experiment was concluded without a hitch. The resulting concoction was spilled over the subject in question, but the mixture appeared to cause no reaction.”

Councilman Reive had been furious about that, deliberately pouring greater quantities of the liquid over his test subject’s body, but eventually, he’d let Eriadren go home to Lirilith, a mistake as it had turned out. She’d woken up to her husband dying in bed beside her.

“Within twenty-four hours, the subject developed severe burns where the concoction had touched his bare skin, to the point that it almost melted away. In addition, a persistent cough, fever, and chills afflicted him. He eventually died, choking on his own body fluids.”

Stiffening, the teenager carefully slid the dropper and beaker away from one another.

“Gruesome,” she said.

That was an understatement. Reive might have been displeased on the day he’d tossed that acid over Eriadren, but when Lirilith had dragged her wheezing husband to the bastard’s home, he’d been ecstatic. The ‘quarantine’ that he’d enforced while his subject had been ‘in recovery’ had lasted for days. Long, uninterrupted days when Reive had gained easy access to Eriadren’s deathless body.

“Who are you?”

The question drew me back to the present, and I blinked. The teenager was intently looking at me, which was unnerving, but I answered her anyway.

“My name is Rhylix,” I said. “And you are?”

She didn’t seem to have heard me.

“Rhylix, Rhylix, Rhylix,” she said, sucking on her teeth. “Where have I heard that name before?”

She widened her green eyes.

“Oh, my gods, you’re the king’s pet primeancer,” she breathed.

Hastily, she rose from her bench, dipping into a quick curtsy, which… ok?

“I’d say we’re more friends than master and pet but-” I said.

She took hold of my hands with a painful grip.

“Can I trust him?” she asked.

What kind of question was that?

“Um. Yes?” I said. “Raimie’s one of the most honest men I’ve ever met.”

“That’s not what I mean,” the teenager moaned.

Rubbing her face, she ran her hands through her hair.

“I mean, can I trust him?” she says. “He’s aligned with both Ele and Daevetch, impossible as that is. I know he tolerates your presence, but what would he do with me?”

“What are you talking-?”

Oh.

“You’re a primeancer,” I said.

She frantically nodded, making light that I hadn’t created flash in the room. An Ele primeancer, then. That was good.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

Before, I’d only inquired about that out of politeness because I’d thought this would be a brief, random encounter, but the fact that she could access Ele changed things.

“Miranon,” she said.

“Well, Miranon,” I said. “If your splinter has taught you well enough that you can hide your abilities, it should have taught you the proper etiquette when it comes to greeting a fellow Ele wielder.”

Flushing, Miranon said, “She. She taught me.”

But she fluttered her fingers a little, and her twin appeared beside her.

“Now yours,” the unfamiliar splinter said.

Creation wasn’t really mine, but I couldn’t share that fact with this new splinter. It didn’t matter that she was aligned with Ele. I wouldn’t reveal everything I was to relative strangers, so I asked Creation to make themselves visible.

“You are?” Creation asked of Miranon’s twin.

“Creation,” the other splinter answered, “and you?”

My constant shadow giggled, a bit manically.

“Eriadren, it’s a female you, replete with the red hair, secondary green pigment, and defiant attitude!” they gasped. “She’s even a scientist!”

I rolled my eyes while Miranon’s splinter took a step back. There had gone the secret of my identity, at least when it came to the teenager’s splinter.

“Eriadren?” both of them asked.

The other Creation splinter seemed to be hyperventilating, which was… interesting. Since when were splinters afraid of me? It was usually awe or a condescending attitude from them.

Also. Why the hell was my Creation still giggling up a storm?

“Stop it,” I growled.

This, unfortunately, only made them laugh harder, and at that, the other Creation narrowed her eyes at us with a look of concern flashing over her face.

“You might want to consider returning to the whole at some point, aspect…?” she said.

“Creation,” my constant shadow gasped. “I’m of Creation too, but shouldn’t you know that, given who he-”

“I swear to gods, Creation,” I hissed. “Shut the hell up.”

My Creation clicked their teeth together, although their uproarious laughter never stopped.

“This is getting confusing,” Miranon said. “Are you satisfied?”

“Entirely.”

At our command, both splinters disappeared from the visible spectrum, returning to where only their primeancer could see them. Thank. the. gods. Why did dealing with anything Ele related always give me a headache?

“What now?” Miranon asked.

It was a good question. What should I do with this primeancer? I knew they’d started crawling out of the woodwork years ago, when Doldimar had still held power, but Miranon was the first one I’d run into. So, what…?

“Now, you come with me,” I said with a mischievous grin. “I’ll introduce you to my friend.”

I hadn’t thought it possible, but Miranon’s eyes widened even further than they’d been before. She meekly followed me out of the lab to where Little was leaning against a wall with his eyes closed.

“You done?” he said without opening said eyes.

“All finished,” I said. “Sorry for making you wait.”

Pushing off of the wall, Little warily glanced at Miranon after seeing her.

“You’ve acquired a stray,” he said.

“And you’ve gotten taller. Hooray for stating the obvious!” I said. “Still want to take me to Raimie?”

“As cagey and arrogant as ever, I see,” Little said with amusement. “I’ll take you to the king, but don’t expect me to stick around once we reach him. He’s in the middle of a meeting with a bunch of cranky elders.”

“Hooray…” I weakly repeated.

This would be fun.

Chapter 69: Reunion

Rhylix

 

When we stepped into the meeting room, several voices were clamoring to be heard, and Raimie was slouched on the other side of a long table, a perfect picture of misery. He nodded at Little, but when he saw me, he shot to his feet with his chair clattering to the floor behind him.

The room’s other occupants turned to inspect the person who’d so thoroughly surprised their guest, and at their stares, Miranon hid behind me, biting her lip. 

Interesting… Why was she so nervous about being around these people?

Vaulting over the table, Raimie pulled me into a hug.

“Thank the gods you’re here,” he frantically whispered. “You have to save me.”

I had to what now?

“Who’s this?” the wrinkly woman behind him asked.

With a long sigh, Raimie faced her, clapping my shoulder.

“This is my friend, Rhylix,” he said.

“Wait. I know you,” a woman further down the table said, cutting off anything else Raimie might have meant to say.

She inched forward with her eyes narrowed.

“Yes!” she said. “You’re that lunatic who set off into the Wastelands a week ago. Didn’t you say you meant to venture past the tear? You can’t go into the Wastelands like that without risking a storm. I thought we’d seen the last of you which… how are you alive?”

Little, who had yet to depart despite his earlier assertion, glared at his charge.

“Past the tear..." he murmured before snapping his gaze to Raimie. "I thought you said this mission wouldn’t be dangerous!"

A distraction! Counting my luck, I held perfectly still, letting attention drift back to my friend. I probably shouldn’t be doing that, but… keeping attention off of myself would be preferable, at least for the moment.

“It won’t be dangerous!” Raimie said. “The tear’s not that far into the Wastelands-”

“You didn’t answer my question, young man,” the middle-aged woman interrupted, glaring at me.

Rapidly blinking, I hoped that my luck-

“Miranon, dear, what are you doing here?” a thin, reedy voice asked from the grouping of elders.

Oh, good. It looked like chaos was about to ensue. Once this was over, maybe I should thank Raimie’s Daevetch splinter for this host of distractions instead of my luck.

“You failed to mention that this quest would require traversing the Wastelands,” Little hissed before hastily adding. “Your Majesty.”

“Did you disturb these two gentlemen, Miri?” the reedy voice said, echoing Little’s displeasure.

Miranon further slunk into my shadow, and seeing her timidity, I groaned. I knew Raimie could handle these people but Miranon? I wasn’t so sure. Plus, I’d brought her in here, drawing attention her way.

So, I called to the Ele in the room, and it responded with a blinding flash. The floor, the people, and the air itself blazed bright white.

As the light faded, I shouted, “Everyone hush! I can’t hear myself think.”

As requested, quiet reigned supreme for a moment with every eye on me until Raimie couldn’t control himself anymore. He rushed out of the room, but the walls and a closed door between us didn’t stop everyone in the room from hearing his delighted laughter. Rolling his eyes, Little followed his charge, leaving me with the Qenans.

“So, that’s how you survived the Wastelands,” the old woman said. “You should have said something the first time you passed through. We’d have sent you out there with equipment to take storm readings for us.”

“I’m not fond of scientists as a general rule,” I said with a tight voice. “They frequently dissect primeancers, in an attempt to replicate our powers for themselves.”

“If you decide to donate your body to Qena when you die, then of course the scientists here would be more than happy to break it into pieces,” the old woman says. “What else would you expect us to do with it? Let such a precious sample become worm food?”

She hadn’t even considered trying to experiment on me while I was still breathing.

There it was. Every time I started to despair, it came like a breath of fresh air: a reminder that not all was hopelessness and misery. Good existed in the world.

With a flushed face, Raimie slid back into the room, leaving Little outside.

“Apologies, sirs, madams, and individuals. I suddenly had a need to examine the fascinating flying machines that you have stored in the hall,” he said.

He flashed a cheeky grin at the room, daring the others to contradict him, before continuing.

“What were we discussing?”

Before the room could devolve into a shouted cacophony again, I said, “I need to speak with you. Preferably alone.”

“Of course, Rhy,” Raimie said. “Is there a room we can borrow?”

...I hadn't meant right now, but I supposed my friend had mentioned an eagerness to get out of whatever conversation he'd been having before I'd interrupted it.

Turned to the elders, Raimie folded his hands in front of him with a smile. He received a lot of eyerolls and huffing in response, but soon enough, the old woman stepped forward.

“Take this one,” she said. “I’m sure us Qenans would rather return to our projects than repeat our request. Unless you need another recap?”

“No, I understood it after hearing it the first time,” Raimie said. “Go to the tear. Figure out what’s wrong, and fix it. Only close it as a last resort.”

“Good to know our future king can use those enormous ears to listen to his subjects,” the old woman said, “but remember, this isn’t a local phenomenon. Several other towns have come to us, asking for help with their smaller tears. So, this problem is one for all of Auden.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

While the elders shuffled out of the room, Raimie glared daggers at their spokesperson, only relaxing once the room had emptied.

“I’m so glad to see you, Rhy,” he said. “It’s been, what? Four months since your visits to Elisk matched up with mine? Please tell me you’ve found something in that time.”

“Not a trace of a whisper,” I said with a grimace. “What about on your end?”

“Nothing since we last spoke. Doldimar didn’t keep records while he was in power. I’ve trudged through several years’ worth of documentation made by the Enforcers who were inclined to do so in his stead, but I haven’t found anything useful yet. Just a disgusting number of reports that tallied the babies born each year versus the death toll in each region,” Raimie said. “Doldimar held dominion for almost three centuries, though. I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“At least you have open avenues of investigation,” I said. “I’ve run out of ideas for where he might have hidden.”

“There is that.”

Raimie blew out a long breath before grinning at me.

“Gods, I’ve missed you,” he said. “It’s good to talk about this without someone looking at me with pity or worse, like I’ve gone insane.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Groaning, I lifted my face toward the ceiling with my hands on my hips.

“I’ve tried asking townsfolk about unexplained deaths or wanton destruction after I arrived at each one, but as soon as I told them why I was asking, they’ve laughed at me.”

“I think you may have gotten your revenge just now,” Raimie said, chuckling. “That was a neat trick with the light. The looks on their faces were priceless.”

How was it that my friend could so easily distract me? I’d come here with a purpose, and it hadn’t been one that involved our shared project of finding Doldimar.

“Speaking of Ele, I’d like you to meet someone,” I said.

I beckoned the wide-eyed teenager, still trying to hide in my shadow, forward.

“This is Miranon, aspect Creation. Miranon, my best friend, Raimie, aspect Order.”

Nervously dipping into a curtsy, the teenager clasped her hands in front of her while Raimie shifted in place.

“Er… hello,” he awkwardly said. “I’m pleased to meet you?”

When he glanced at me, I bit back a laugh. Damn, Raimie’s social awkwardness came out at the most hilarious of times. I should probably help him out.

Chapter 70: Hopeful Speculation

Rhylix

 

“Miranon?” I said, nudging the girl at Raimie’s side. “Why don’t you show him what you can do?”

She flashed a blanched face and pleading eyes at me.

“It’s all right. I promise,” I said. “I know that after years spent hiding, this is hard, but I swear to you. You’ll be safe, even if I need to protect you myself.”

During that exchange, Raimie had bounced his gaze between us, but his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ when Miranon took a deep breath and made her hands glow.

“Should I show him my splinter as well?” she asked.

“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “Raimie’s never been one to rely on formality or protocol. Hates it, from what I can tell.”

With his shock having apparently broken, Raimie shouted, “You can access Ele?”

At that, Miranon lifted her glowing hands, crooking an eyebrow.

“Right. Of course you can,” Raimie said with a nervous laugh. “Forgive me. You’ve come as a surprise. I thought primeancers were rare.”

“They usually are, but every so often, a surge of them spurts into the world,” I said. “It comes in cycles.”

“You mean-?” Raimie said.

I nodded. When Ele and Daevetch sent their Champions into the physical plane, a host of splinters soon followed, seeking out potential humans or Esela to partner with.

Squaring her shoulders, Miranon met Raimie’s eyes.

“Will you attack me?” she asked.

“No! I’m pleased to meet another Ele primeancer,” Raimie said, drawing his eyebrows together. “Why would I attack you?”

“Because you’re aligned with Daevetch, and my splinter doesn’t like you at all,” Miranon said. “The last time a Daevetch primeancer visited Qena, she tried to kill me, but then again, the last person my splinter hated is my best friend. Past experience makes me wary of you, but it also tells me to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Gods, the pained look on Raimie’s face!

Raising his hands, he said, “Unless you try to hurt me first, I won’t harm you, Miranon, but you’re right to doubt me. I don’t know how I can prove that I mean you no harm, except by maybe…”

Raimie bit his lip with his eyes growing distant, and at the appearance of that expression, I internally sighed. Either a brilliant idea or a staggeringly dangerous one was sure to follow it.

Turning to me, Raimie said, “You said a surge? How many do you think are currently living in Auden?”

“How should I know?” I said with a shrug. “But I have heard rumors all across the realm of primeancers in hiding.”

“Hmm.”

Tapping his fingers on his lips, Raimie pointed at Miranon.

“How would you like to learn how to control Ele from someone who’s mastered it?” he asked.

“I’ve been hoping for greater control since Creation first came to me,” Miranon said. “Soon after her appearance, I started practicing, but in one session, I accidentally jumped too high over a fallen tree and broke my arm in the fall. I'd like to avoid repeating that experience.”

Hissing, Raimie said, “Oo… yeah, I’ve done that. Doesn’t feel nice, does it?”

Miranon shook her head, and watching them interact, I realized what my friend was thinking of doing, wanting to smack myself for not seeing it sooner.

“You want to build a school,” I said.

“Think about it, Rhy!” Raimie said. “We gather primeancers together, give them what they need to master their respective energies, and when Doldimar eventually returns…”

“We greet him with an army of Ele wielders,” I breathed.

The idea was audacious, breathtaking, and utterly brilliant. In the past, gathering a group of Ele primeancers together had been guaranteed to end in slaughter, prompted by either Daevetch wielders or norms, burdened by fear. Since coming to Auden, however, Raimie and I had worked tirelessly to prove that Ele primeancers were beacons of hope, although those efforts sometimes seemed to have barely worked, but even still, with Doldimar vanished, a school for primeancers might be feasible.

“Until Doldimar makes his move, we can create a haven in the palace for Ele and Daevetch primeancers,” Raimie said. “Alouin knows there’s room-”

“Daevetch primeancers?” I said. “Why would you want them anywhere near you? When they’re not insane, they’re bloodthirsty.”

Raimie flinched away from me with hurt spasming across his face.

“Ouch! That smarts, Rhy. They can’t all be as you’ve described. Some have to be like me. They have to.”

Looking to the side, he crossed his arms, slowly breathing out, and I frowned at him. Was he worried that he’d become like Doldimar’s Enforcers, the only other Daevetch primeancers he’d met? Because… he would. Eventually. Daevetch allowed nothing less for its primeancers, but I didn’t think Raimie’s fall was likely to come any time soon. My friend rarely, if ever, showed the symptoms associated with that final state.

Shaking himself, Raimie said, “Besides, what Daevetch primeancers can do is more conducive to combat than Ele’s granted abilities, and I believe in offering protection to anyone who might suffer at the hands of our enemy, including primeancers who are typically associated with evil.”

He paused.

“Dim wants me to add that Ele primeancers aren’t much better. They’re self-righteous to the point of rigidity, unwilling to recognize a creative solution to a problem if it bit them in the ass. Their words, not mine.”

“Even if it’s possible that they deserve or need protection, you can’t put primeancers from opposite sides so close to one another,” I said. “They’d rip each other apart, and you’d have a massacre on your hands.”

With an eye twitching, Raimie opened his mouth to argue, but a knock stopped him from speaking, for which I was grateful. I didn’t like disagreeing with my friend, but I especially didn’t like it when the disagreement was over a concept that shouldn’t be in question.

A niggling piece of my heart that belonged solely to Lirilith found the idea of Ele and Daevetch primeancers working together intriguing, but the Champion of Ele had too many years of dealing with primeancers to find it viable. I’d never met anyone, burdened with a splinter, who could tolerate being in the same room as a primeancer from the opposite side.

Except for Raimie. I had no issue with being around my friend. Why was that?

A teenage boy poked his head around the door, roaming his bespectacled eyes over the room until they landed on Miranon.

Pushing through the door, he said, “Miri! They said you’d be in here. Why aren’t you in the lab? Was my grandmother awful to you again? I thought we were planning on testing those new materials today. Remember? "

The teenager’s close-cropped, black hair had turned his head into a fuzzball, further blurred by his rush to Miranon, and she came to meet him, grabbing his hands.

“‘jesper! You have perfect timing, as usual!” she said, pulling him behind her. “This is Rhylix and Raimie. We’ve been discussing an intriguing idea, or rather, they have. I’ve mostly been watching and staying out of the way. Raimie. Rhylix. This is my best friend, Tejesper.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Raimie and I said with utter confusion in both of our tones.

“Wait. Miri! Raimie, as in soon-to-be-king Raimie?” Tejesper asked with his hazel eyes lighting up. “Oh, my gods, you’re my hero!”

As if realizing how much he’d been gushing, he blushed, ducking his head.

“I suppose you get that a lot, though, what with being Auden’s liberator,” he said. “Is it true that you control both Daevetch and Ele?”

“…Yes?” Raimie said.

“How?”

Tejesper moved forward, adjusting his spectacles on his nose.

“Please, tell me how you do it. I need to know. Please.”

“Um,” Raimie said, taking a step back. “I was born with both splinters. I don’t really know why.”

Now that, I hadn’t known. As far as I was aware, people weren’t born primeancers. They had to do something to attract a splinter. Add another oddity to the list of peculiarities that made up Raimie.

“Oh,” Tejesper said.

Stopping short, he slumped, and relaxing, Raimie came close enough to rest a hand on the teenager’s shoulder.

“Why did you want to know?” he quietly asked.

Tejesper hesitated. From behind, Miranon prodded his side.

“Show them,” she hissed. “I did, and I’m alive. I think we can trust them.”

Glancing at her, Tejesper said, “I trust you, Miri.”

But he stepped back and closed his eyes, and the room darkened with shadows slithering over every surface. My stomach rebelled at the sight, and it didn’t matter what Raimie was or why I could stand to be near my friend. My mind screamed ‘enemy’, and I shot Ele forward, pinning a Daevetch primeancer to the wall. The shadows vanished as my adversary struggled to get away, kicking against the wall and trying to jerk his hands free, but his attempts were futile. No one could escape my Ele grip. 

Starting forward, I reached for one of my knives, but someone grabbed my wrist before I could unsheathe it.

“Let him go, Rhy!” Raimie shouted.

Blinking, I tried to understand why my friend was stopping me. Didn’t he understand? Did he not see?

“He’s the enemy!” I snapped. “He needs to die!”

I tried to tug my hand free, but Raimie held firm, peeling his lips back from his teeth.

“Rhy,” he hissed. “Look at Miranon.”

To appease my friend, I did so and cocked my head. The girl might be trembling, but white light had filled her hands, aimed at me. Her eyes were so very wide with a single tear rolling down her cheek, and she was prepared to attack me, her ally, to protect a primeancer who belonged to the enemy. Why?

The picture shifted, and I was immobilizing not an enemy but a terrified teenager to the wall. A boy who was barely out of childhood and I’d planned to murder him. As I flinched away from the thought, Ele returned to me in a rush, and Tejesper collapsed to his hands and knees, coughing.

Not trusting myself to come any closer, I said, “I’m so sorry. You can’t understand. I’ve fought Daevetch for so long. It’s almost an instinctual reaction-”

“I don’t blame you,” Tejesper interrupted with a raspy voice, “and I do understand. What do you think I feel every time I look at Miri? But she’s my best friend. I won’t let Daevetch control me. I control it.”

Easy for him to say when his source wasn’t keeping him alive but…

“I take your point,” I said.

“When I broke my arm, ‘jesper used Daevetch’s strength to carry me home,” Miranon said. “It nearly killed him.”

Good gods, how strong-willed was this kid? He’d not only restrained an overpowering desire to kill his friend but used Daevetch, the energy that had been prompting the murderous desire, just to help her. He and Raimie would get along famously. Or they’d kill each other.

“Out of curiosity, which splinter did you attract?” Raimie asked.

“That’s right. I haven’t properly greeted you yet.”

Climbing to his feet, the teenager laid a fist over his breast.

“Tejesper, citizen of Qena, aspect Destruction, at your service.”

His twin flashed into view, hungrily leering at me, before disappearing.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Tejesper said. “I’m not fond of my splinter.”

“No, dismissing it was wise, given Rhy’s reaction to you,” Raimie said. “We shouldn’t bring a Daevetch splinter into the mix. Rhylix can barely control himself around Dim. Chaos. Whatever they’re called.”

Turning to me, he rested his hands on his hips.

“So, what do you think now?” he asked. “Is a school enrolled with Daevetch and Ele students possible?’

“I think…it’s worth trying, if only because they are better able to kill our enemy,” I said. “We’ll need to be extra cautious when the wielders of opposite sides meet, though. Keep them separate for the most part.”

“Do we get a say in this?” Miranon asked with a huff.

Raimie blinked at her with a troubled expression crossing his face. He probably hadn’t considered that some primeancers might not want what he was suggesting.

“You always have a say in your future,” Raimie said. “Always.”

Or he could be surprised that these two had thought they wouldn’t get a choice. Raimie might have liberated Auden, but he could never understand what his new subjects had lived through since birth, or… given what I knew about his past, maybe he could.

“Would you like to live in the palace at Elisk and learn to control the energies that you wield?” he asked. “You’re welcome to stay in Qena, if that’s what you want.”

Miranon and Tejesper exchanged glances, seemingly talking wordlessly.

“I think we’d rather come with you,” Tejesper said, holding Miranon’s gaze.

“Wonderful,” Raimie said.

And all three of them grinned with giddiness infecting the room.

“Go pack a bag, you two. Once I’m finished with the tear, you’ll come home with me.”

The teenagers made their farewells, and all too soon, only my friend and I occupied the room.

“If this idea works, who will teach them?” I asked, fixing my eyes on a closed door. “You?”

“Are you kidding me?” Raimie said. “On top of running a kingdom, searching for Doldimar, and researching solutions for your curse? I wouldn’t have the time. Besides, I’m not a master of either side of primeancy, but I know someone who is.”

“You’re going to make me a teacher, aren’t you?” I groaned.

“Oh, don’t give me that. You know you’d love it,” Raimie said. “Besides, if we’re taking the ‘Doldimar comes to us’ route, you’ll have plenty of time on your hands, and I know you don’t like being idle.” 

He’d made a good point but…

“I’ll accept your offer to head the ‘college of Ele’,” I said, “but who will teach the Daevetch students? Certainly not me and you’ve said you can’t.”

“I have someone for the job, but I’m not sure where she is at the moment,” Raimie said. “Do you remember Nessaira and that Kiraak you spared at the Birthing Grounds?”

“I recall them both, especially the Overseer of Da’kul and her crossbow bolts of doom,” I said, making a face. “I also remember that neither of them could access Daevetch, hence why they were Overseers and not Enforcers, but I’ll indulge you. Whatever happened to those two?”

“They were released after thorough interrogations,” Raimie said. “I found it unlikely that they’d return to their Dark Lord, knowing what would happen to them after spilling his secrets to the enemy.”

“A reasonable assumption,” I said.

“I thought so,” Raimie said. “In any case, about six months ago, I received a request from Nephiron’s mayor. Several of his citizens had been murdered in a manner that was disturbingly reminiscent of the days of Doldimar’s reign. I headed out, thinking the culprit would be a rogue Kiraak missed during the sweeps, but when I arrived, Nessaira approached me, requesting asylum.

“Before the incident, she and the man you spared, Wilphanas, had lived together for several months, drawn to one another by their similar backgrounds. From the way she described it, their relationship went deeper than mere kinship.

“Right as the two had begun adjusting to their life of normalcy, a group of Nephironians recognized Nessaira as Teron’s former Overseer. They, predictably, attacked her. She tried to flee, tried to reason with her attackers, but they rejected her pleas and refused to let her escape. She took her beating, prepared to die for her past crimes, but Wilphanas came to her defense, dying in her stead. You can guess what happened next.”

“A Daevetch splinter came to her, and she massacred her attackers?” I said.

“That’s essentially what she confessed. I took her into my custody, dropping her with Gistrick at Da’kul,” Raimie said. “I lost track of what happened to her after that, distracted by the next catastrophe I had to handle.”

So, the Overseer was now a Daevetch primeancer, which made her a candidate for the position that would match mine. Still.

“Why do you think she, a woman who put a crossbow bolt through my neck and who we both know to be unstable, should teach impressionable primeancers?” I asked.

“We don’t exactly have our choice of Daevetch primeancers, Rhy,” Raimie said with a sigh, “and while Nessaira may only have months of authentic experience with her powers, she spent years watching Teron’s mastery of the shadows when he was alive.”

I kept my lips tightly sealed, hating the conclusion that my friend was forcing me to arrive at. I didn’t want to work with a woman who’d once killed me, no matter how temporary my death might have been.

“You know I’m right,” Raimie said, crossing his arms.

Making a face, I nodded, refusing to audibly agree, but that didn’t stop Raimie from beaming at me.

“Have we formed the first school, the first haven, for those of our kind?” he said.

Dear Alouin but that enthusiasm was infectious! Despite my misgivings about Nessaira, I couldn’t help but join my friend in an enormous grin.

“I believe we did,” I said.

“So many details to work out!” 

Tapping his fingers on his thighs, Raimie started pacing, his typical habit when working through problems.

“We’ll need to allocate quarters for the students in the palace and figure out where they can safely practice with their energies,” he said, “and of course, there’s the problem of recruitment. How do we convince people who’ve been hiding for years to reveal themselves to the world?”

Restraining a laugh, I said, “You can worry about those problems once you’ve returned to Elisk. Don’t you have a task to complete here? Something to do with the nearby tear?”

Raimie grimaced.

“I’d almost forgotten about that,” he said with the words emerging as if they were rotten fruit. “They won’t explain what’s wrong with the tear, and yet, I’m expected to fix the issue. Sure, I’ve traveled to several of them in Auden, hoping to get a feel for their number and how active they are. I thought it might be useful to know what I can expect from that facet of the realm’s economy. That doesn’t make me an expert on the damn things, though, despite what everyone thinks.”

“You understand them better than anyone I’ve met before, my friend,” I said, “and that makes you an expert.”

“Regardless,” Raimie drawled, rolling his eyes, “I’m not sure what the fix for this tear will require of me, and it makes me nervous.”

A hopeful expression took hold of his face, which had me quietly groaning.

“Will you come with me?” Raimie asked. “I could use a friend.”

“Why are you even asking? You know what my answer will be,” I sourly said.

“Fantastic!” Raimie said, clapping his hands together. “I’ll let Little know, and we can get started.”

“Hang on!”

Leaping in front of my friend as he crossed to the door, I lightly rested a hand on his chest.

“I’ve been crisscrossing the Wastelands for the last week, only returning to Qena an hour ago,” I said. “Let me grab a bite to eat before we charge into those monsoon-plagued lands.”

“That’s fair,” Raimie said. “You can have your meal, but I am on a tight schedule, Rhy.”

What was that supposed to mean? At my questioning glance, Raimie shook his head.

“I’ll explain on the way,” he said. “Let’s say an hour? Will that be enough time for you?”

An hour to recover from three days without food and with little sleep? Ha!

“It’ll be plenty,” I said.

“In that case, I’ll meet you outside of town once you’ve finished,” Raimie said.

Happily humming, he practically skipped out the door, and once he was gone, I buried my face in my hands, screaming into them.

Chapter 71: Catching Up

Rhylix

An hour later, I trudged out of the village of scientists, making for a cluster of figures huddled by the closest windmill. Hostile stares greeted me from unfamiliar faces, and I was momentarily concerned that I’d need to defend myself against Raimie’s soldiers. Then, my friend bounced from out of their midst.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Despite fatigue hovering over me like a threatening raincloud, I knew I was. My quick bite to eat had revitalized me, and while I’d miss the prospect of a bed tonight, the sacrifice would be worth it if I was allowed an evening wandering the countryside with my friend. If I tried very hard, I could almost imagine that the unfriendly soldiers didn’t exist.

“You mentioned that you were on a tight schedule?” I said. “Why is that?”

Why couldn’t this trip wait until morning? Why had I only been allowed an hour’s rest?

“The investiture has a date: a little over two weeks from now,” Raimie said. “Seeing as how travel between Qena and Elisk takes almost two weeks, the problem with this tear must be promptly resolved if I’m to be back in time.”

Folding his hands behind his back, he stared at the ground with his lip caught in his teeth.

“Who’s to become the new king?” I asked, prodding my friend.

Please, please, say that he wouldn’t speak Kylorian’s name.

“That would be me,” Raimie mumbled with a flush of color spreading across his cheeks.

“Oh, thank Alouin,” I said in a rush. “Don’t get me wrong. Ren’s adoptive brother has many admirable qualities, but he wouldn’t make a good king.”

“And I’ll be better?” Raimie said. “What will I do when people find out about Nylion, Rhy? And they will find out. Don’t say they won’t. Will they accept…me—”

Gods, how carefully that singular pronoun had been said!

“—when that happens, especially after everything that’s happened in the last few weeks?”

I hated it when this topic came up. That wasn’t because I disliked the idea of Nylion—given my experience with similar phenomena, I didn’t think that was possible—more that I had no way to relate, and that meant I usually couldn’t give my friend the advice or reassurance he needed. I ended up saying dumb things instead, like:

“What’s happened?”

Halfway through a step, Raimie scrambled to catch himself, nearly toppling in the process.

“Well…” he drawled, “he’s back in truth. No more hiding. And we’re… not… arguing.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked. “His absence has been one of the things that’s most distressed you over the last two years.”

Wincing, Raimie glanced to the side, probably speaking with the person in his head who I might never meet. I’d love it if that did happen, but given how much those two had been shamed and hurt over their ‘many in one’ status in the past, I doubted either of them was comfortable with being genuine around another person.

“It is,” Ramie eventually said. “A good thing, I mean. But it came with… developments.”

When he refused to continue, I said, “Like?”

After glancing back at the soldiers, Raimie was chewing the hell out of his lip when he faced forward again, and he’d knotted his fingers in his tunic.

“You… like me, right? As a person,” he said. “Is there… anything that you’d never forgive me for? Besides, you know, the obvious.”

…Where was this going?

“Like deciding to help Doldimar for some inconceivable reason?” I said. “No, I don’t think anything, besides the obvious, would stop me from being your friend.”

Raimie nodded to himself, taking a few deep breaths.

“I kissed Nyl,” he said in a rush, “and there’s been… more over the last two weeks.”

I stopped short with an invisible wall springing up from the ground to stop me. I- I-

“WHAT?” I shouted.

With a hurried glance over his shoulder, Raimie took my arm, pulling me along. That encouragement was the only reason that I could operate my feet right now.

Numbly, I heard Raimie speaking to me.

“Please, Rhy, you can’t act strangely. If the others or gods forbid, Little realize that something strange is going on, they won’t rest until they figure out what’s wrong. They’re just those types of people. Please, I need-”

Pulling away from Raimie, I said, “You kissed him? The other person in your head? What-? No. How did you do that?”

Raimie shrank on himself, even if he still clung to me.

“There’s a place in my head where I can go when I sleep,” he said. “It feels real, and… I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Nodding along, I thought I said something—

“Lucid dreaming. That makes sense.”

—but I was having trouble with wrapping my mind around this. It- it was making my head hurt. That combined with my fatigue and-

“I need to sit down,” I said.

Swallowing, Raimie said, “Ok.”

He turned toward the soldiers.

“Little, hold here, please. I’ll be right back,” he called. “I’m not going far. You can stay put.”

Something like an affirmative drifted to us, and rolling his eyes, Raimie led me a little further along, muttering under his breath. I got the feeling he was using his near constant annoyance with the Hand’s hovering to hide his anxiety.

When we reached the top of a nearby hill, Raimie sank to the ground, and as soon as he gestured, I collapsed beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t mean to hurt you in any way. I-”

“Raimie. I’m not upset. At all,” I said, “and what you’re talking about isn’t bad or wrong. It’s only… this is…”

With a timid smile, Raimie said, “A lot?”

I nodded.

“It’s a shock, even if that shock is mild,” I said. “Just give me a minute to think.”

Falling back, I threw my arms overhead, doing my best to fit this into what I already knew about Raimie.

“So, does this mean you’re attracted to men?” I asked. “Nylion is male, right? I think that’s what you’ve said before.”

“That’s right, but…. no. I don’t think so, at least,” Raimie said. “If I’m right about what the word ‘attraction’ truly means, then I have never, ever been attracted to men. Not once. Except with Nylion, but I don’t think what’s going on between us is because of ‘attraction’. I think…”

He fell silent, letting me watch wispy clouds float across the sky without distraction. They were so carefree with nothing to weigh them down or snarl them into knots, and when their time was done, they dissipated with nothing holding them in place. It would be an envious existence, if, you know, they were sentient.

“Have I told you about my bond with Nyl?” Raimie asked.

Still set adrift by my friend’s revelation, I could only lazily answer, “No.”

“Hmm.”

Something drummed beside my head, probably Raimie’s fingers.

“Ok, so we have this bond, like I said,” he said. “It’s like a… river? No, that’s a terrible analogy because it implies everything flows one way. Maybe… an extension of self? A continuation of existence? I really don’t know how to explain it.”

“That’s ok. I probably wouldn’t get it anyway. It sounds like one of those concepts that’s only understandable to those who’ve experienced it before,” I said. “Why is it important?”

“It lets me… be Nyl, if only in a way,” Raimie said. “I can hear what he’s thinking, feel what he’s feeling, all of the time… when it’s active. Given that, I think it was only inevitable that I ended up feeling… things for him.”

Frowning, I said, “I’d think that it would make you hate him. Having someone constantly nattering in your head? That sounds-”

I shuddered.

“It’s not like that!”

The frustration and stress in that explanation was enough to peel me off of the ground. When I sat up, I found Raimie curled on himself, tangling his fingers in his hair, and the part of me that had become exceedingly accustomed to my friend’s oddities sighed. I peeled Raimie’s hands off of his head, holding them together much like I held his eyes.

“It’s ok,” I said before repeating. “It’s ok. Calm down. I’m not going anywhere. You haven’t lost me. I’m only trying to understand. That’s all.”

Taking small sips of air, Raimie gradually unfurled from his ball, and after a moment, he nodded for me to release him.

Rubbing his wrists, he said, “I’m surprised you focused on the gender side of things rather than the obvious.”

“You mean that you’re kissing a part of yourself, no matter how separate he might be?” I asked. “Honestly, Raimie? If I were you, I’d be doing the exact same thing. You are… the most honorable person I’ve met in my long life. It’s ok if you love yourself a little.”

Raimie gave a tiny laugh before hugging his knees.

“Love,” he breathed to himself. “Is that what this is?”

I chose to ignore that comment, waiting for my friend to collect himself instead. When he glanced up, Raimie looked a bit less haunted, if still fearful.

“So, you’re still my friend?” he asked.

“Gods, Raimie. I told you. You’d have to do something seriously terrible to make me stop being your friend,” I said. “As I’ve mentioned before, I am, frankly, glad that you have someone like Nylion in your life. He seems to have been a good influence on you.”

But I refrained from saying anything about a potential meeting between us. If that was ever going to happen, I wanted it to be on both of their terms.

“I am a bit curious as to why you told me about this, though, much as I’m glad you did,” I continued. “It would have been easier to keep it to yourself.”

Shifting in place, Raimie picked at the grass around him.

“You may have been practice for someone else,” he said.

“Really?” I said with a laugh in my voice. “Who?”

Tightening on himself, Raimie said, “Ren.”

And I was quiet for a long time. I had many questions, namely what Ren had to do with anything. She was no longer in a relationship with Raimie, or that was what I’d thought, at least. I also wasn’t sure how his relationship with Nylion might have affected the one he’d once had with Ren. I only said one thing, though.

“Tell me everything.”

So, I learned about how Kaedesa has returned to Auden and what that meant for Raimie’s betrothal. I learned about my friend’s reunion with my sister, including Kylorian’s involvement with it. I learned that Raimie had told my sister about Nylion. 

I learned about how Raimie had been agonizing over this, all of it. How he’d resolve his betrothal to Kaedesa while possibly renewing his relationship with Ren. How he’d share everything about Nylion with her. How every spare minute in the last two weeks had been spent thinking about this.

“Damn, Raimie, your last two weeks have been hell,” I said when he was finished.

Shrugging, Raimie said, “It hasn’t been so bad. I crossed paths with my best friend, so you know. That helped a lot.”

Falling back on my hands, I stretched my legs in front of me, wiggling them with a grin.

“Glad to have helped,” I said.

Snorting, Raimie said, “I don’t suppose said friend has any advice for me?”

Humming to myself, I contemplated the many problems on my friend’s plate for a moment.

“Be honest with her, whether that be Ren or Kaedesa,” I said. “Always be honest and tread carefully. Trust me. Ren will be patient. She probably understands the situation she’s put you in and will wait to see if you can get out of your promise of marriage or not. As for the Nylion thing…”

Pausing, I sucked on my lip.

“I honestly don’t know what to say, Raimie,” I said. “You need to tell whichever woman you end up with as soon as you possibly can, but besides that, I have nothing to give you.”

“You’ve already given me more than I expected,” Raimie said. “Thank you, Rhylix.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

I waited for a moment, watching for the sign that my friend was about to do his inevitable scramble for a new conversation topic before continuing with.

“Your Majesty.”

Sucking in a gasp, Raimie play-smacked me.

“No. No, no, no,” he snapped. “I told you years ago. I don’t need your deference. Don’t you ever call me that. Not again.”

“All right, all right!” I said, laughing. “Stop slapping me, and maybe we can continue toward the tear. Still needs fixing, yes?”

“Unfortunately,” Raimie grumbled.

Springing to his feet, he offered me a hand up, and we rejoined the rest of the group. Once we’d walked for a good long while, long enough for me to start digesting everything my friend had shared, he spoke up again.

“What have you been up to for the last four months?” he asked. “Looking for Doldimar, I know. I’d like to hear about the specifics, please.”

Smiling to myself, I scanned the horizon again. Trust Raimie to continue on as if he hadn’t shared one of his deepest secrets with me not a quarter mark before.

“Since you’re so eager to know…” I started.

I shared my experiences while exploring ancient Lyzencroft’s ruins and how nothing had come of it. From the graveyard of Auden’s sister kingdom, I’d made a circuit of the realm, starting to the north. I’d wandered through the woods that the Matvai claimed as their own, venturing for a time into the tundra beyond the northern mountains.

After a week of frozen hell, I’d made a brief stop in Nephiron, but I hadn’t bothered with searching Auden’s west coast. Since the realm’s liberators had made their first landing on the Outskirts, it had remained firmly under Raimie’s control, watched and monitored by trusted officials and allies from Tiro. Supplies from Ada’ir often entered the kingdom at Nephiron’s port, and large swaths of Raimie’s armed forces patrolled the main roads from the coast to the capital.

After a brief respite in the newly revitalized port city, I’d traveled south to Qena, beginning my search of the Wastelands.

As I wound down from my last tale, Raimie chuckled.

“So many times, we barely missed one another,” he said. “I was treating with the Matvai’s Vasnavai only a few weeks ago.”

“I heard rumors of your visit while scouring their forests,” I said. “I considered coming to see you but thought it best to keep from causing a diplomatic incident. The Matvai…”

In the dense mountain forests of their Homeland, the Matvai had a tradition of hunting Esela for sport, but I didn’t think sharing that fact with my friend was wise. If Raimie discovered the clans’ mistreatment of the Esela, he’d cut all ties with them, and while I hated what the Matvai had always done to my people, I also understood how important friendly relations between Auden and the clans were.

So, a half-truth instead.

“The Matvai aren’t fond of Esela, so I stayed away from them as much as possible while I was in their territory.”

With a fierce grin, Raimie said, “You couldn’t have made more of a mess than I did. The Vasnavai tried to kill me toward the end of our negotiations.”

“She did?” I said, laughing. “Well done, you! She must have liked you.”

“The knives she forced me to dodge would disagree with you,” Raimie said, “but back to your tale. Where were you headed next before our chance meeting?”

And I tasted ash in my mouth. Slowing down, I hugged myself.

“My final destination was the remnants of the Eselan Haven, although frankly, I’m glad you’ve given me an excuse not to go,” I said. “I wouldn’t care to see the shining cities of my youth in their state of destruction. I especially don’t need a visible reminder that my race has lost such strength and power that we must bow to humanity’s ‘superiority’. Yes, the Esela may soon cease to exist in the world, but reminders like the Haven are a slap in the face, an addition to the sting of our slow extinction.”

Raimie was quiet, silently moving his lips while he decided what to say, but I was happy to wait. My friend could take all the time in the world to reply, if that was what he needed. I’d rather if he thought out his response instead of blurting what first came to mind, as such thoughtfulness would save him from a lot of embarrassment once he was sitting on the throne.

“You should return to Qena,” he eventually said.

…What? Had I offended my friend somehow? I’d thought that after everything we’d spoken about, our relationship had grown, something I hadn’t thought possible before taking this delightful walk.

“Tired of my company already?” I lightly asked.

“What?” Raimie said, whipping his head toward me. “No, Rhy! I realized how silly we’re being. We decided to establish a primeancer refuge today, and after doing that, the first thing we did was charge off into an adventure. You should have stayed behind with Miranon and Tejesper, working on logistics. While on the journey home, we’ll have time to catch up. We don’t have to do it now.”

With a flat stare, I said, “You want me to work on your project while you’re off adventuring?”

“Can you manipulate tears?” Raimie asked. “Because unless you’ve developed that ability in the last four months, we can’t switch places, and trust me. I’d much rather tackle the task I’ve asked from you.”

That... was a good point. I wasn’t sure I’d want to do my friend’s job, even if I had his ability.

“Fair enough,” I said. “What should I do in Qena?”

“Mostly keep watch on our first two students and make sure they’re ready to leave soon,” Raimie said, “but come on, Rhy! You’ve seen a lot over the years. Surely you can think of a few issues we’ll face before we can establish a school.”

“I can think of a few,” I said, making a face.

“In that case, I’ll see you by morning,” Raimie said.

Stopping, he extended a hand, and taking it, I shook it, unable to break through the foreign feeling of the gesture. Ada’ir and its bizarre customs would never feel quite right to me.

Releasing my grip, I said, “Be careful, Raimie.”

My friend gave me a secret smile, like we were sharing a joke, and looking back on all the times that Raimie had run off to complete a task like this on his own, I shivered.

“I will,” he said.

Chapter 72: A Broken Tear

Raimie

 

Silently, I watched my friend climb a hill, on his way back to Qena. Sending him away with a lie had hurt, but I couldn’t bear to see melancholy on Rhylix’s face, not when it appeared there more often than it rightfully should. I wouldn’t cause it again by bringing him with me to our destination, one of the dead Eselan cities he’d mentioned.

Beside me, Nylion said, “It is for the best.”

You’re sure you’re ok with him knowing about us? I asked.

Because I had been and still wasn’t sure.

“I am,” Nylion said. “He is your friend. Eventually, I would like to meet him and make him my friend too. It would be best if he knows everything about us before then.”

Taking a deep breath, I released my clenched hold of my chest, lowering an arm, and Nylion took my hand.

“Thank you for taking the risk,” he said.

At the same time, Little said, “That was kindly done, sir.”

“Was that a compliment, Little?” I absently asked, squeezing Nylion’s hand. “I thought only snark could come out of your mouth.”

“I believe it was praise, sir,” Little said. “I’ll avoid it in the future.”

“See?” I said. “Much better.”

Shaking myself, I turned to the spy and the real world that I inhabited.

“How much further to the tear, sir?” Little asked.

Dim? I said.

The splinter was staring off into the distance with their eyes glazed, which made me frown. I’d asked for Dim’s attention because they could ignore their whole’s pull, more than Bright could at least, but for today, Dim refused to follow the status quo.

Dim? Question for you, buddy.

Nothing came from them, and with that, I took a closer look at the splinter. Dim seemed fine, the same as always, except…

Were those cracks in their pretense of skin? Before I could confirm what I was seeing, something I’d said stirred Bright from their lethargic stare.

“What is it?” they slowly said, as if each word had required a great deal of concentration.

How close are we? I asked.

“To the ruins?” Bright said, slurring their words together. “A couple more miles. To the tear, a bit longer. It’s in the middle of the former city.”

“We’re close,” I told Little. “I’m not sure how much longer I can take the lead, though. My splinters aren’t being very helpful right now.”

“Aw, give Bright and Dim a break, sir. I’m sure they’re doing their best,” Little said with a smirk. “Besides, we can take over from here, so long as you give us a direction to follow.”

“That way,” I said.

I pointed toward where my splinters were avidly staring.

“Right. Our turn up front has come, people,” Little shouted. “Let’s go!”

Soldiers ambled to join the spy, checking their weapons as they did.

As we moved through the hills, the conversations that had rumbled behind me while Rhylix and I had taken the lead dwindled to nothing. I’d spent the last several months in cities and on busy roads, surrounded by people and their accompanying noise, so I’d missed this: the beauty of relative solitude, surrounded by nature, and for a while, only the sounds of said nature filled the quiet around us.

“Raimie,” Nylion said.

After such a long time spent in relative silence, I almost pulled away at the sound of my name, looking over when my other half inched closer to me.

“I know you have already given your word about this to the Qenans and your splinters,” Nylion said, “but will you promise me as well that you will not close the tear?”

Such anxiety in him! He was huddled on himself, jerking his eyes over the horizon, and I tugged on him to get his attention.

Why don’t you want me to close it? I asked.

Almost immediately, Nylion flicked his eyes away from me.

“I have my reasons,” he said. “They mostly involve avoiding pain and staying alive.”

Staying alive?!

Nyl. Should I be worried?

With a half-smile, Nylion said, “So long as you do not close the tear, no.”

You won’t give me more than that, will you?

Of course, I didn’t get a response, but for some reason, the lack of one didn’t bother me as much as it had in the past. Maybe over the years, enough people had hidden secrets from me that I’d learned not to take it personally.

Accepting the same treatment from the one who was so thoroughly enmeshed with me rankled a bit more, but I gathered through our bond that this secret was something for Nylion and Nylion alone. Before our forcible separation, the concept that one of us could keep something from the other would have raised my hackles. Now, I understood, and when Nylion unleashed a torrent of reassurance on me, I let go of my worry. My other half would tell me if I had something to fear.

In the end, whatever Nylion’s reasons were for keeping this secret, it was easy to say, I promise.

Topping yet another rise, we caught our first glimpse of man-made blocks in the distance. As we approached these, the terrain’s inclines steadily decreased in angle to almost nothing, and before long, we hiked into the midst of crumbling buildings.

Mostly made of stone, these former homes looked almost identical to human buildings throughout the known world, save for the decorative streaks of obsidian that lined their window frames and sidings. Doors were practically non-existent, having succumbed to mold, mildew, and insects. Evidence of paving stones crunched beneath our boots, and exposed pipes, brought into the open by a natural disaster of some sort, glinted in the sunlight. Nature had long ago begun its reconquest of stolen territory with grass invading homes and vines scaling walls.

My regiment of soldiers twitched at every aberrant noise, and several had drawn their swords or army-issued pistols. The ruins made even my skin crawl, so I couldn’t blame my soldiers for being cautious.

When we stumbled upon a square, replete with a well’s remnants, I brought us to a halt. Good lines of sight, sufficient cover in nearby homes, and a potential source of water. It was probably the best place to set up a base of operations that we’d find.

“This is far enough,” I said. “I’ll go on alone.”

The soldiers relaxed with their shoulders loosening, and nervous chatter quickly struck up. As they started settling in, Little pulled me to the side.

“You can’t continue by yourself, sir,” he whispered. “If he learns I let you, Middle will kill me.”

“Little. Come on,” I said, trying not to look down my nose at the spy. “We both know how this game goes. You protest. I propose a counterpoint. You agree with me, making me promise not to tell Oswin, and I don’t mention the lapse of protection the next time I see your spymaster. Can we skip it this time? When have I ever told Oswin about my solitary excursions?”

Deflating, Little made a sour face.

“As you say, sir,” he said. “Please, be careful.”

“I always am. Look out for them.”

I nodded toward the soldiers, who were already forming a loose perimeter.

“I will,” Little said.

Abandoning my retinue freed me to chase the unnatural sense of dismay seeping into my every pore, the one that had been afflicting me and my soldiers since entering the city. Within another quarter mark, though, I had no need to follow that feeling’s vague sense of direction, not with Bright and Dim shuffling in front of me like the dead walking.

From there, finding what I sought was easy enough. When my splinters abruptly stopped, I barreled through them, cringing before I remembered they were incorporeal. I searched for what had made the two halt so unexpectedly, quickly finding it.

Cracks, much like I’d seen around other tears, began appearing on my side of the buildings ahead, presumably the ones that were blocking me from the center of the city. While looking for an opening through this barrier, I ended up climbing through a particularly rundown building’s window. The second floor of this home had collapsed into the first, making a gashing rent in the wall that faced the city’s center, but I stopped short before emerging from the house’s shelter, struck dumb by what was waiting for me outside.

The hairline cracks from the other side of the buildings culminated in a network of widening fissures on this side. On top of this, the long-abandoned city’s citizens had constructed a thin platform.

The tear floated above this stone podium.

It was about six feet tall and four feet wide, but instead of the expected black center surrounded by wispy white, this tear jerked and twitched and frazzled. Its unnerving black interior bulged from its neatly contained center, and its white border reached with jagged tentacles to impale the buildings enclosing it.

The black part had almost entirely engulfed several disorganized tables, sitting on the platform, with wires and glass globes sprawled on top of them. I assumed that here, Qenan scientists had been laboring over their secret project before their tear had gone on the fritz.

While I watched, the tear distorted from its normal, elliptical shape into something that resembled a zig-zag but not—the otherworldly form was so bizarre that I could find no other words to describe it—before snapping back into place.

This was what the scientists of Qena expected me to fix. Holy godsdamned hell.

Chapter 73: Fixing a Rip in Reality

Raimie

 

Swallowing hard, I stared at the broken tear in front of me.

“Wow,” I said with a dry mouth. “Ok. Bright? Dim? You two plan on being helpful?”

My splinters were swaying in place with Ele and Daevetch fragments blipping off of the tear to absorb into them.

“Hello?” I said, snapping my fingers in their faces. “Anyone there?”

At their lack of response, I sighed. I hated to do this to them, but they weren’t exactly giving me a choice.

“Order and Chaos, I require your focus,” I commanded.

Between blinks, the two turned their gazes on me, although their bodies still faced the tear, but something wild and feral lurked behind those usually friendly eyes.

“I’m sorry that I had to force the issue, but I need to know if you’ll be able to watch my back or not,” I said.

They seemed to hear me this time. Softening, they fully turned toward me.

“We’ll always watch your back, Raimie,” Bright said.

“Why do you need someone to do that now?” Dim asked.

“That tear is very broken. It needs a quick fix before it gets any worse,” I said. “I can’t close it because not only did I tell the Qenans that I wouldn’t, but I made a promise to you two as well. The only other way I know to manipulate that terrifying break in our world is to… touch it, and I’d prefer it if someone makes sure that nothing attacks me while I’m distracted.”

“I don’t know…” Bright said.

Slowly, they turned back to the tear, gazing longingly at the distortion in reality’s plane, until Dim flicked their shoulder. Then, they hissed at their counterpart.

“We can withstand our wholes’ pull long enough to keep you safe,” Dim said, “but try not to take too long? We probably can’t give you more than a few minutes.”

With a wry grin, I said, “I can promise that. Touching those things is never pleasant.”

“Then, good luck,” Dim said.

That would have to be good enough.

With a nod to them, I advanced on the misbehaving tear, swallowing my rising terror the closer I came to it. Trying to prepare for what I knew was coming.

Gods, this was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea!

But it must be done.

Once I was within reach, I extended a hand toward the black center, and it yawed open, swallowing me whole.

I flailed, unsurprised when I hit an utter lack of anything. The clamor of chattering voices on all sides plunged into me, and for a moment, I forgot why I should fear them or why I’d sought out this particular tear, allowing the stream of information to rush through my head without truly listening to it.

For I was floating in the space between realities, and it FELT LIKE HOME. More so than the homestead from when I was young, more than the palace or Ren’s presence. It was the comforting caress of those rare moments when I could relax in the fullness of Nylion’s presence or the long-departed relief that had once been found in mama’s embrace.

Familiarity, I’d have expected. I’d been here four time before: once at Allanovian’s tear, once after the incident in the Withriingalm, once in Daira, and once after Teron’s ambush. But HOME? This sense of comfort was unexpected and utterly foreign, although… shouldn’t I have expected it? I was sure that I’d experienced this before: the irrational desire to kick off my shoes, unbutton my jacket, and rest in this weightless float.

Unfortunately, life never seemed to like accommodating my desires. The incomprehensible babble of voices running through my head screamed for my attention, blaring so loudly that a fire spread across my mind, and while I was glad they hadn’t coalesced yet, their discombobulated state still HURT.

Wiping at my ears, I hoped I wasn’t bleeding from them, like had happened before, but my fingers did come away sticky. Best to get this over with, before my mind melted or the voices became one.

“Why are the tears in my reality going haywire?” I asked. “How do I stop them from spreading? That’s what the Qenan tear is doing, isn’t it? Uncontrollably spreading? How far will it go? To the ends of the earth? My world’s primary driver for our economy shouldn’t be what destroys us.”

The voices went silent, and I floated alone. What had happened? Had I scared them off, and if so, how? That seemed like a useful skill to-

I dropped into a familiar world of blue and green, but something was off. Something was different.

Trees. A thick canopy blocked my view of the sky, including the miniature painting of the Eternal War fixed at its summit. The mind-bending part of this change, however, was the lack of trunks anywhere in sight. Branches and leaves rustled in an unfelt breeze, high overhead, but no solid, wooden supports impaled this perfectly cropped grass.

The only thing that disturbed this endless spread of green was a man who was huddled in a ball, gently rocking and crooning to himself.

“Hello?” I called. “Do you need help?”

The man… no. The god was on his feet in an instant, advancing on me like a storm cloud. Alouin’s loose-fitting, phosphorescent trousers and shirt fluttered in his wake with light bouncing off of their shiny surfaces, and he lifted his hands like he was strangling the air.

“Why would I need help do I look helpless who are you what are you doing here.”

Those words had flowed from him in a monotone flood, coming so fast that I could barely parse between the individual questions. When Alouin strode so close to me that I could feel his body heat, I stepped back.

“Why won’t you answer me have I become so intimidating wait remember the last time you finished your turn and you were allowed to leave that awful place you’re talking in stream of consciousness again they don’t do that on the outside they use inflections and pauses and-”

Alouin took a long, deep breath.

“My apologies,” he slowly said, enunciating every syllable. “Let’s try this again. Who are you, and how did you get here?”

For a few heartbeats, I could do nothing more than stare at Alouin. What in the void was going on?

“We’ve met before,” I said. “I know you’ve been busy in other realities, fixing problems, but I thought I’d made an impression on you the last few times I was here.”

“Is that what I’ve been up to for the last millennia how interesting but I don’t know you.”

Alouin cleared his throat, twitching.

“Sorry. A thousand years with only my internal monologue as a distraction has gotten me out of practice with conversations,” he said. “I don’t remember you. Why and how are you in my safe space?”

“I came looking for a solution to the malfunctioning tears in my world,” I said.

That questions had seemed like the safest one to answer first. Something had obviously happened since I’d last saw Alouin, something that had turned him a little… unstable. The last time I’d seen him, he’d warned me that it would happen, but that warning hadn’t prepared me for standing so close to an all-powerful being who seemed to have come unhinged.

“Which iteration are you from?”

Alouin snatched my hand while his fingers twitched in the air.

“Ah,” he said with his eyes clearing. “The breakdowns are my fault, but you can hardly blame me. I’ve only recently pieced enough of myself together to remember who I am. Getting to tear maintenance is next on the agenda. It’s not my fault!”

Seemingly finished with me, Alouin poked me hard, but I only sprang back upright once that pressure had been released, a little tempted to smack him.

“That’s… you’re supposed to go!” Alouin breathed. “Who are you?”

While he swiveled his head between his finger and me, I clicked my tongue.

“My name’s Raimie,” I said. “It seems you have forgotten me. How is that possible?”

And why the hell would I find that so surprising, given how much of my own past I’d temporarily forgotten?

“You’re the one who’s invading my privacy,” Alouin snapped. “Answer my questions and maybe I’ll answer yours.”

“I already answered…”

Sighing, I cradled my forehead.

Maybe if I repeated the circumstances that had captured Alouin’s attention so many years ago, it would jog his memory, but when I looked for the clash at the sky’s summit, only leaves greeted me. Without a direct view of it, the Eternal War’s pull was diminished to near non-existence, such that I could barely pick out its location from behind a screen of tree limbs.

If I couldn’t use a visual depiction, I could try what Alouin had made me do during our first meeting: forcing Ele and Daevetch to merge into something… other. The exhaustion I’d accrue while doing that would be incapacitating, and I’d have to rely on both Alouin to kick me back home and on my soldiers to find me later, if I was to reach safety. I’d be trusting in predicted behaviors, something I hated doing, but right now, a demonstration of my supposedly fascinating ability might be easier than explaining everything to him.

I’d called Ele and Daevetch to separate hands, concentrating on bringing them together, when a fist to my face knocked me off of my feet.

“None of that!” Alouin shouted.

With his hands balled into fists, he stood over me.

“I’ve had quite enough of those assholes recently, thanks very much.”

Dropping to his knees with one leg on either side of my waist, he lowered his face until our noses were almost touching. All I could see were his blue eyes, dancing with carefully controlled violence.

“No primal energy allowed,” Alouin whispered with a manic giggle.

Humming, he rose while his fingers stroked the air until he’d found what he wanted. Then, they froze in place.

“Bye-bye, anomalous one,” he giggled, planting a finger on my forehead.

“Wait!” I shouted. “You said to remind you there’s—”

Chapter 74: Unfortunate Circumstances

Raimie, Rhylix

 

Raimie

“—hope!”

My shout was drowned out by the howl of the wind. Shivering, I hugged my chest as icy knives of rain drove through my uniform to beat against my skin. A gust of wind swooped into the city’s center, and pinwheeling my arms, I took several unsteady steps to keep from falling. The wind continued teasing at my body, trying to lift me off the ground, but it quickly capitulated, unable to keep still long enough to accomplish its ambitious goal.

How long had I been in the tear? It must have been a while if a storm this bad had rolled overhead in that time alone.

The sky had darkened considerably, more than it should have on a cloudy day, but I couldn’t figure out how long it had been since night had fallen. The tear was illuminating the city’s center with its brilliant corona of light, a corona that stably encapsulated the ellipsoid of darkness in the middle of it.

Braving the tear had worked! With my task completed, I could go home to Elisk, although after what had happened in the tear, I was hesitant to call that city home. Not after what I’d felt in the space between realities. Which had been… weird.

In any case, my work here was finished. One last hurrah completed before assuming the throne. At least I’d done some good with it.

Standing at the base of the stabilized tear, I quite literally thanked Alouin for the miracle, or for what I might have considered a miracle in my early teens. The more I encountered the impossible and the more meetings I had with Alouin, the surer I became that the being who most people in my world hailed as a god wasn’t really a god at all. Alouin had been surprised too often, fiddled with the air in every encounter I’d had with him, and he’d once told me that he had little power to spare, all of which didn’t scream ‘godly’ to me. Maybe Alouin wasn’t a god per se but a powerful mage or-

When something tugged at my leg, I absent-mindedly smoothed the cloth that covered my disturbed skin, but as my hand came away soaked by something much more viscous than rain should be, alarm kicked in. Glancing down, I found a jagged, one-inch hole boreing through my thigh, and as I watched, gouts of blood spurted from it to the rhythm of my heart.

Where had that come from? And… oh, shit. This was bad, wasn’t it?

“Dodge!” Dim lethargically shouted.

As prompted, I sprang sideways, gasping at the increased flood of my life’s blood from my wound, but a palm-sized pebble soon shot through the space that my torso had been occupying a moment before. Maybe more than an even trade….?

I almost collapsed; the world was already spinning so fiercely. Gods, I needed to stop this bleeding.

“Torniquet, Raimie!” Nylion screamed.

I couldn’t find my other half. This seemed like a problem, but I set it aside to woozily unbutton my jacket, thoroughly regretting my decision to go without a belt today. I tightened its cloth into a painful knot above the wound, but the gush pulsing out of it never slowed down.

With black bars closing in on my vision, I felt faint, so as I hobbled toward the building I’d used to enter the center of the city, I was careful, struggling all the while to stay on my feet.

In front of me, Dim bodily shook Bright, and while they did, the cracks that I’d spotted on their body earlier grew wider, letting something inky peek from beneath.

“He’s bleeding out, numbskull, and my whole has nothing to stop it!” they shrieked over the screeching wind. “Snap out of it!”

I stumbled for a few more steps before spilling face-first onto the stone platform, feeling something snap in my chest as if from a great distance. My pant leg was soaked, only made worse when I dragged it and the rest of my body through a shallow puddle. Was that my blood or the rain? I couldn’t tell.

I managed about a yard more before my strength gave out.

Nylion’s familiar form lay still beside me with his eyes gleaming, and I reached a shaking hand for him. I’d found my other half. Everything would be ok, or I’d think so if Nylion’s terror hadn’t been splashing down our bond, much like the rain on our back.

“What happens when we die?” he softly asked.

Nyl…

I was so cold that I was warm. The quiet stillness that accompanied this warmth made staying centered feel next to impossible. Drifting was……………………….

But Nylion’s panic stopped my float. Couldn’t he see? This was good. Couldn’t he feel…?

I smothered what lay on the other side of an innate bond with the comfort I’d found—

Nylnylnylnylnylnylnylnylnylnylnylnyl

—and the terror died, letting me unfocus and listen to the song calling me out of my flesh prison.

“Do something!”

A slapping noise burst a staccato note into the song, and I flinched. I really didn’t like that sound. Why didn’t I like that sound?

“What was that for?” Bright’s crabby voice yelped before they went quiet. “Oh, no. Raimie, draw from me now!”

My name stole threads of my consciousness from out of the song’s grasp.

“Near a tear,” I weakly said.

“Damnit, you magnificent human!” Bright shouted. “Do you want to die? Do what I say before you lose consciousness!”

I laughed at the Ele splinter’s curse, but Bright had probably had a point somewhere in that mass of jumble. They’d never insist on something unless it was needed, and while I couldn’t remember what happened if I fell asleep, I vaguely recalled that it wouldn’t be good, no matter what the song was screaming in protest.

My Ele source was somewhere beside me, hovering over my distant body, and I politely asked the primal energy undulating behind it to answer my call.

“Good, Raimie,” Bright said. “Now, direct it to your leg.”

My leg. Which one? And where exactly?

“No, not both. The right one,” Dim said, taking over. “The spot of frost below your waist. It may have gone tingly or numb.”

Yes, yes! Of course Ele should go there. If I wrapped that spot of death in my wash of life, I could get up and go home. I wanted to see Ren…

Shooting to my hands and knees, I gasped like a beached fish. The song fled from me, leaving a faint tinge of melancholy in its wake, and desperately, I looked for my other half.

“Nyl! Where are you?” I shouted over the storm’s shriek. “Gods, please.”

I couldn’t feel him. I couldn’t feel him!

A tendril of… something faintly reached across our bond while a hand lowered in front of my face. I couldn’t take it, not truly, but it followed me as I got to my feet, and once I had, I flung my arms around Nylion, never bothering to look at his bruised and battered face.

“You smothered me,” Nylion said into my shoulder. “You almost blocked me out of our mind.”

Oh… hell. I had?

I… I didn’t mean to hurt you. Gods, Nyl. I SWEAR-

“You were dying, and so was I,” Nylion said. “Let’s forget it happened.”

He slid a hand down my arm until our fingers were interlaced, and together, we haltingly climbed through a window. Nylion spent the rest of our trip back seeping encouragement across our bond. For my part, I left a trail of blood in our wake, to be scoured from the earth by the hurricane.

I chuckled before a sting in my chest reminded me of how bad of an idea that was.

This storm didn’t care that three hundred years ago, a seer had foreseen me defeating Doldimar. It couldn’t be bothered to learn that the man beneath its fury had lived through attacks from allied Esela and from an Enforcer. It couldn’t care less about the atrocities that Doldimar had perpetrated and how I was trying to reverse them. It merely followed Mother Nature’s directive, producing massive amounts of wind and rain while using the fore of its gales to shoot twenty-two-year-old dual primeancers with pebbles before dispassionately departing. It was enough to make anyone feel insignificant.

“Your Majesty!” a faint voice yelled into a break between the gusts.

One of my soldiers braved the fierce weather to trot out to me.

“How did it go?” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Is the tear-?”

Throwing my arm around the man’s shoulders, I shifted my weight to him.

“Take me to Little,” I gasped.

Whatever surprise the soldier must have felt was thrust aside as he followed his orders, summoning a comrade to support my other side. When we stumbled through a doorway, I reclaimed my arms.

“Where?” I gasped.

“Through there, Your Majesty,” one said, pointing to the left. “Are you sure you don’t need-?”

“I’m fine!” I snapped.

I advanced in the indicated direction, dragging my bad leg behind me.

“You’re not fine,” Bright started.

“Shut up, Bright!” I grunted. “I gave the two of you one job. Watch my back. Look how well that went.”

Both splinters shrank to the side right as I tripped, grabbing a door frame for support.

Little glanced up from where he’d been writing a missive. The knife that he’d been absently twirling through his fingers thumped into the grass on seeing me.

“Alouin, sir! You look awful,” he said. “What happened?”

I dragged my now unresponsive leg into view, but that motion tilted me too far, and I lost my balance. At least I hit cushioning grass rather than stone on landing this time.

“Shit! Dieldrenil, run and find Korlatry,” Little shouted “Orlanon, I need your belt. We need a much better torniquet.”

Weakly rolling to my back, I spat dirt out of my mouth. Little had already dropped to his knees beside me.

Once I’d cleared my mouth out, I wheezed, “Don’t bother. Get me to Qena and Rhy as quickly as possible. I’m staving off the injury as best I can, but I’m not sure how much longer I can last.”

“If we don’t properly apply a torniquet, sir, you will bleed out on the journey,” Little said. “I’m not sure how you haven’t already.”

Snatching the spy’s collar, I dragged him closer.

“Little. Primeancer.”

Pointing at my chest, I grimaced, releasing my hold.

“Just get me back!”

“If you insist, sir,” Little said with a sigh. “Orlanon, belay the previous order. Tell the soldiers to prepare for a hasty retreat. I’ll need volunteers to carry the king.”

“I can walk,” I weakly said.

“Respectfully, sir, shut up,” Little snapped. “You look like death warmed over. If you want to reach Qena as soon as possible, you’ll let us carry you.”

“Fine,” I thought I mumbled.

If I had, I didn’t hear the word spoken. Something repeatedly hit my cheek, and Little started shouting. Behind the spy, my splinters stood in sharp relief against a steadily fading background.

“To stay alive, all you must do is maintain your hold on Ele,” Bright said.

“And to do that, you must stay awake,” Dim added.

Even they soon faded to fuzzy blobs, but I didn’t let sleep take me any further. For an interminable length of time, I balanced on that knife’s edge, clinging to the bundle of life circling my wound. The one steadily eroding beneath the pressure of the death it contained.

The rumble of a much-beloved voice added itself to the muffled noise around me.

“Hold on a little longer for me, Raimie,” Rhylix said with a strained voice. “Please, my friend.”

Rhylix had asked the impossible of me. I fought with the dregs of my strength, but soon after hearing my friend’s words, a long resisted, crushing wave of darkness crashed down on me.
 

Rhylix

When I heard shouting outside, I assumed that someone new had joined the disgruntled Qenans outside the inn. I was almost impressed by their dedication, given the constant downpour that had started soon after I’d returned to the town.

The villagers hadn’t been happy to learn that Raimie and I were planning on taking two of their youngest away from their families. Still, if I was forced to hear one more accusation of kidnapping, I was liable to wind up in a fistfight. Whether Miranon and Tejesper joined us on our trip to Elisk, it would be their choice, not something we forced them into.

As I heard feet pounding up the stairs outside of my door, I prepared to once more listen to the Qenans’ understandable fears.

When my room’s door was flung open, however, a host of soldiers spilled into my rented room instead of the eccentric scientists I’d expected, and my heart seized up. Streaming rainwater, five of them lugged a delirious Raimie to lay on my bed.

Blood had soaked my friend’s leg from hip to ankle with a chit-sized hole gouged through the medial of his thigh. It was so clean of a through-and-through that I could see a sliver of blanket on the other side of his exposed muscle, tissue, and a nicked artery.

I froze at the sight of that clipped blood vessel, the source of the sticky liquid coating my friend. In the past, I’d treated injuries where that artery had been punctured. The victims had never lasted long, despite my best efforts, but where blood should have been spurting from the gash, only a slow drizzle was dripping instead.

Two things were slowing the flow of Raimie’s life from his wound. One was the cinched belt wrapped around his thigh. The other was the faint Ele glow swirling around the wound.

Gods damnit, I’d known this would happen. What always happened when I let Raimie take on a dangerous task alone? I’d rather if the interruption to my afternoon had been another irate parent.

Clutching at my shoulder, Little broke me free of shock.

“Save him!” he hissed with frenetic eyes.

Ok. I could do this.

“Clear the room, people!” I bellowed while holding Little’s gaze. “You stay. I may need help.”

The room emptied of soldiers faster than they’d filled it.

“Get my cloak,” I said. “I’ll need my supplies.”

While Little’s back was turned, I knelt beside the bed and tried to Let Go, releasing the flood of Restoration that was regularly beating against my control, but something or someone blocked me from doing it today.

“The hell, Creation?” I hissed. “This too?”

“You don’t need Ele to fix him,” was all the splinter would give me.

Biting back a scream, I transitioned into healer mode. Raimie was no longer a friend, merely a patient requiring treatment.

Just in time, Little dropped my cloak beside me.

“I’ll need a clean bottle of the tavern’s strongest alcohol, the sheets from the bed next door, and a basin of water,” I said.

Little scurried off, but before he could disappear, I stopped him with a demand for the shears lying on the side table by the door. Little obligingly tossed the pair to me.

While I waited, I cut a stiff pant leg off of Raimie’s limb before rifling through my cloak’s pockets for my smallest sutures and string as well as a clamp. Heavy footsteps soon announced Little’s return, and I moved to give the spy my spot at center stage.

“Clean the skin around the wound as best you can,” I said. “Then, liberally irrigate it with alcohol.”

While the spy complied, I summoned fire from the hearth downstairs onto the only open-air candlestick in the room. I was convinced that for my purposes, the gas-fed lanterns populating the room wouldn’t work as well as a clean, wax-and-wick candle for sterilization purposes. By the time I was done heating my instruments over the candle’s flame, Little had wiped Raimie’s leg free of blood, standing ready for his next task.

“Your job is to keep my work space dry,” I said.

When I inclined my head to the wadded-up blankets, Little frantically nodded, and I knelt, running alcohol over my hands before reaching into the wound with my tools. Treating an injury like this wasn’t complicated, at least not the way I did it, but it also wasn’t easy.

First, I clamped the end of the artery closest to the heart to control bleeding. Because the damage to the blood vessel was so slight, I’d be able to suture the nick closed rather than searing it, like a larger gash would require. 

This task took my full concentration for a while. I was almost finished with it when Raimie’s near-incessant mumbling broke off, leaving silence behind.

My patient couldn’t faint now. Ele was the only thing keeping Raimie’s heart from exsanguinating his body. I’d almost repaired the artery’s break, but two more sutures remained. If Raimie fell asleep, letting everything Ele had retained go free, the pressure of that blood flow might ruin my hard work, even with a clamp in place.

So, I picked up the pace.

“Hang on a little longer for me, Raimie,” I said.

I tied off a suture. One left.

“Please, my friend.”

As I secured the last suture into place, white light fled from the injury, and I hastily retrieved my clamp. I watched the artery bulge, certain that one of my neat sutures would fail, but they held. Slumping, I massaged my shoulders.

“He’ll live,” I said.

“How do you know that?” Little asked. “I can still see into his leg!”

“Trust me. The dangerous part is over,” I said. “Putting his leg back together will be difficult, but he won’t die from the process.”

As Little grumbled to himself, I smiled. I hadn’t played healer in years, but damn, if my skills weren’t as sharp as they’d ever been.

Cracking my knuckles, I reached for a needle. Time to sew my patient up.

Adventures of the Hand 4.1

Middle

 

Even though it was only halfway through the morning, I was drained, and there was still a long day ahead. Of course, I was always tired, had been since Aramar had dumped his spymaster responsibilities on me thirteen years ago, but this was a bone-deep weariness, riding me like an equestrian in the saddle. I’d stacked my obligations too high, assumed too many burdens, and it was beginning to show.

Recently, I’d started using a flesh-toned powder to conceal the purple semi-circles under my eyes, and only yesterday, I’d found my first gray hair. I was just now nearing the end of my second decade! Worry about hair color wasn’t supposed to come for at least five more years.

At the moment, I was plodding through a thick stack of paperwork. Empty bottles, summoned earlier to Elisk, surrounded my chair, and considering how often I’d been pacing the room today, it was a wonder that I hadn't broken any yet.

For the fourth time, I tried to read Little’s most recent report while continuing to tread a furrow in the floor behind my desk. Moving like this kept me awake and alert, but it did nothing to help with keeping my mind on my reading material. Without something compelling to anchor me—which Little’s report most certainly wasn’t—my thoughts turned to my family.

To Thumb and Pointer, my brothers. They thought I didn’t know about their relationship, which was adorable, but I didn’t plan on changing that assumption. Those two were professionals. They’d never let their romantic entanglement interfere with their duties, and it had been too long since either of them had been happy. I wished them countless days of bliss.

To Little, my adopted son. Many were the days where I both blessed and cursed Lornilen’s parents for dropping their kid in my lap. With his easy understanding of people’s intention and wishes, Little could be a boon. Many spies would envy his gifts. He was also the only member of this family who had the capacity for genuine empathy, identifying with other people so strongly that he could assume their identities, if need be, but at times, Little could be a burden.

The young spy refused to take his responsibilities seriously. I was always hesitant to assign him to the king’s protection because not only did Raimie tend to dodge his bodyguards when he felt the need but Little’s lackadaisical attitude encouraged that behavior. Someday, his flippancy would get him into tremendous trouble, and I knew that when that day came, I’d wonder if I could have done anything to prevent my son’s misfortune.

And to Ring. Of all the members of the Hand, she was the hardest to classify. When thinking of her, how did I instinctually identify her role? Was she the mother of this family? My sister? My beloved?

I kept that last possible categorization secret, tightly locked in my heart’s depths. Ring could never know how much I cared for her, else she flee from the King’s Hand. In her lifetime, too many amorous men had caused Ring trouble to consider adding another to the list. I wouldn’t do the same, no matter how much I might want to share my feelings.

Pausing in my pacing, I shook my head, trying to clear it. Distracting thoughts like those had gotten obnoxious today.

I discarded Little’s report, hoping that if I read something else, I’d find my focus. Maybe then, I could return to that messy jumble of words with the attention needed to understand it.

The report I picked up next was from Pointer. As usual, the assassin had found no sign of Doldimar in his journey, not even a whisper of a rumor. 

I would never understand why Raimie insisted on searching for the Dark Lord. He was right that Doldimar was lurking somewhere, watching for the perfect moment to strike these innocent people down, but to think the Hand could find him was folly. An incredibly powerful, Daevetch primeancer who’d lived for at least two centuries had undoubtedly mastered the art of concealment, but despite my objections, I followed my orders. My unthinking obedience was one of the qualities that made me such a good spymaster.

It was how I’d originally fallen into the role.

“Have you finished yet, Oswin?” Master Saryntor asks. “At some point, I’d like to go home and see my wife.”

“Yes, master,” I says. “Give me five more minutes, and I’ll know how to replicate it.”

Saryntor grumbles his doubts, but he leaves me alone.

I didn’t lie to the blacksmith. I’m so close to understanding this weapons’ inner workings that I can taste it.

The pieces of the object we’ve named ‘pistol’ are spread across the table in front of me. I’ve disassembled and reassembled it so many times now that I could do it in my sleep, and with so many repetitions, the broad strokes of the pistol’s workings seem clear, to me at least. The details are what elude me.

How does the pin at the barrel’s end trigger the miniature explosion that makes the pistol fire?

The idea of an explosion isn’t new to me. References to dynamite litter obscure history books, ones that predate the last primeancer calamity. Supposedly, those bundles caused explosions that were devastating enough to destroy chunks of mountains, but they required an unknown ignition source to blow. What’s the trigger for the far smaller explosion that takes place inside this pistol?

I lift our last intact projectile for a closer inspection, flipping it over and over.

“Oswin, it’s been a half hour,” Master Saryntor says behind me.

“Goodness! I apologize, master. Time-”

“Got away from you, I know,” Saryntor says with a sigh. “Clean up and go home, kid. Lock up when you leave, and that had better be soon. So help me, if I find you here in the same clothes tomorrow morning…”

“Yes, master.”

Saryntor stomps out the door, and alone once more, I quickly reassemble the pistol but hesitate before replacing the projectile into our storage bin. Perhaps inspiration will strike if I look at this piece of the weapon in a different setting. Pocketing that metal chunk along with several other supplies, I leave the workshop, locking the door behind me.

With my mind too preoccupied by my current puzzle, I don’t register the transition from the noble’s district around the queen’s workshop to the sordid quarter where I keep an apartment. The calls of scantily clad ladies and gentlemen of the night go unheard, and belted drunken ditties go unnoticed. The only oddity that catches my attention is a spark, coming from the hands of a rough man. He’s leaning on a tavern’s doorframe with his friends around him.

“What was THAT?” I ask, eagerly approaching. “Can you do it again?”

Puffing on a pipe, the man eyes me.

“You’ve never seen a flint and steel striker?”

He lifts his metal-wrapped knuckles and a gray stone into view, knocking them against each other to create a brief flash of fire.

“Fairly common ‘round these parts, boy. Where’ve you come from?”

“I work near the palace,” I distractedly say. “How does it work? Does it need to be flint and steel to create such a reliable spark?”

Snorting, the man says, “What are you, a pyro?”

He shakes his head.

“In any case, you should know that we have a system down here, boy. Information is bought and sold, not freely given, and you have yet to pay me for the answer to your first question.”

Suddenly, I feel very foolish. I didn’t consider that these less fortunate men might try something like extortion with me. While I live in the Audish slums, like my parents before me, I certainly don’t mingle with its residents.

“I’m sorry. I… I don’t have any money on me,” I say, flushing.

At that revelation, the man’s entourage perks up, and two of them circle behind me.

“I see,” the rough man says, puffing on his pipe. “Are you sure? Nobles always carry a stash of spare chits on them like the coin’s nothing.”

They think I’m a…?

“I’m not a noble,” I say, barely containing a laugh.

The men at my back release that hilarity for me while their leader knocks his pipe against the wall.

“Then, I suppose we’ll have to take our payment out on your hide,” he says. “You know… I’ve never had a mugging victim come to me before.”

Oh, hell. How do I keep finding myself in situations like this? One day, my curiosity will be the death of me.

Before these miscreants can attack, I flick my switchblade into my waiting palm, raising it into view, but my warding posture only makes them chuckle.

“Do you know how to use that, boy?” asks their leader.

“I do, although I really don’t want to,” I say. “Master Saryntor will give me a tongue lashing if he learns that I used such a crude weapon because I forgot my sword in the workshop.”

Where my posture did nothing, my confidence makes the rough man’s peons falter.

“Oh, come on!” that man huffs. “He’s a kid with a single blade. We’ve got the backing of the guild if we need it.”

Malicious smiles spread from one face to another, and I decide that waiting for their first strike would be a bad idea. Before he has a chance to defend himself, I dive for the ringleader, thrusting in two, neat arcs at his face. As I dart away, my opponent howls, clawing at the leaking holes where his eyes once were.

I probably should have attacked the men behind him then, fleeing at the first opening, but I couldn’t leave that flint and steel striker behind. It could help with my current project, and so, I have to have it. I don’t even consider that I could probably find another one of these somewhere else until the rest of the men have surrounded me.

As I spin toward them, I vainly hope that my work on their leader will make them stupid or at least nervous enough to give me an advantage, but luck doesn’t favor me tonight. They rush me together, and I manage a glancing slice along one of their ribs before they pin me to the wall, smashing my wrist into stone until I drop the switchblade.

“Got him, boss,” one of the men calls, panting. “What now?”

“Kill him, you idiots,” the blinded man hisses, “but take his eyes first! And make it hurt.”

As a knifepoint hovers in the center of my vision, I squirm, yelling at the top of my lungs. Maybe somebody will decide to take mercy on me, although that doesn’t seem likely. Muggings like this are fairly common in the Audish slums.

“Hold still, brat!” 

My breath wooshes out of me as one of the brutes buries his fist in my stomach, but even through hazing thoughts, I know that’s enough. It’s time to break the rules, time to return to every trick my long-spurned heritage has taught me.

I shoot my knee forward, crunching it in between the legs of the man in front of me. While the two holding me are distracted by their companion’s pained grunt, I yank against the hands pinning me in place. I only break one arm free, but even that small freedom is enough to give one of my captors a black eye.

The miscreants who were waiting in the wings recover from their shock, slamming me into the wall again, and I hiss and spit, struggling to escape their hold.

“Boss, I don’t think he’s a noble,” one of the men says. “He fights dirty. Might make a good recruit.”

A RECRUIT? For what? A thieves guild? No, thank you.

“As if I’d ever work for the likes of you,” I wheeze.

Shuffling forward, the ringleader shoves some of his men aside.

“He BLINDED me, morons,” he bellows with liquid weeping from the pits of his eyes. “That insult must be met with strength.”

The man drives a knife at me. Thank Alouin for his lack of vision because the blade buries to the hilt in my shoulder rather than my face, but my body doesn’t join my mind in celebrating the near miss. At the sharp flare of its protest, I scream, getting louder as my tormentor withdraws the blade nice and slow.

Alouin, I’m going to die, murdered by a ruffian. This can’t be happening.

“Sorry, but I cannot let this continue.”

That unknown voice drifted from overhead, and the gathered criminals lift their faces toward the interruption in time for a shape to land on their ringleader. Two thunks sound on either side of me, leaving my arms freed as my captors limply drop.

Only a second has passed, and three of the men are down with the other four only now reaching for paltry weapons. I grin. Maybe tonight isn’t my day to die.

Then, my rescuer rises from his crouch with the moonlight revealing him to be a child, no older than six.

Sent reeling by my erratic changes of luck, I barely notice as a whistle pierces the night air. It quickly cuts off, which confuses me until the other five men clutch at the holes that have appeared like magic through their chests.

“A moment too slow. That is not good,” the child says, grimacing. “How quickly can you run? With the summons that tall one unleashed, their gang will be here shortly.”

What in the-? Why is this KID speaking like an adult? And how did such a small person kill seven street thugs so efficiently? 

Of more interest: have I found my next puzzle?

These questions aren’t important right now. I’ve angered one of Daira’s street gangs, and their backup is sure to be coming.

Crouching beside an eyeless corpse, I rifle through its pockets while sliding a broad steel ring off of its knuckles.

“Now is not the time for looting,” the child says while checking the shadowed recesses around us.

Ignoring that comment, I stride toward an alley, one that a pack of riled-up gang members will most likely use to reach us soon, if they come at all. The square that houses most of the gangs’ hideouts lies close to the end of it.

Withdrawing a container that I borrowed from the workshop, I pour its enclosed black powder into a pile in the center of the alley.

“What are you doing?” the child hisses behind me. “We need to run. Now.”

“If you’re scared, you don’t have to stay,” I say, “but I need to run an experi- start a distraction before fleeing.”

The child looks at me like I’m crazy.

“What sort of distraction can powder cause?”

“Possibly none at all, but if I’m right, a big, bright, deafening one,” I say, flashing my teeth at the kid. “From what I saw, you can propel solid matter at high speeds. Is that correct?”

Flinching, the child mumbles, “Maybe.”

“If I place this,” I say, lifting the striker into view, “next to that powder, can you hit it from the end of the alley, hard enough to cause a spark?”

“I do not know,” the child says with a shrug. “Possibly?”

“Oh, good,” I breathe. “I didn’t like my chances of lighting it without help.”

Setting the striker down, I move to the alley’s end, where we can use the buildings as cover. As we wait, I clutch the projectile in my pocket in a tight fist.

Soon enough, howling voices float down the alley, and at least twelve people round the corner.

“When do I-?” the child asks.

“Wait.”

When the screaming gang members are almost on the pile, I nod.

“Now!”

The child gestures, a spark flies, and an ear-shattering boom splits the night. The force of the explosion knocks us on our back, and I squint through teared-up eyes at a glorious gout of flames. Quickly regaining my feet, I help the child up.

“Now, we run,” I say.

When we eventually stop outside the queen’s workshop, winded and sore, we catch one another’s eyes, and uproarious laughter spills from us, despite our labored breathing.

“What did… you do?” the child asks.

“Took powder from... disassembled projectiles and…” I wheeze. “Wait. I can’t… tell you this. State secrets.”

That only doubles the child’s laughter.

“Don’t think you… need to worry about-”

“RAIMIE!”

A short distance from us, a man in military dress is standing with his fists clenched at his sides. On seeing him, the child flinches, but he conspiratorially winks at me before trotting to the stranger.

“I’m sorry, father,” he says. “I know the job was to observe-”

The stranger grabs Raimie's shoulders hard enough that he flinches, and as if in response, a glow settles over the child. Before I can determine if I’m hallucinating that strange phenomenon, the stranger pulls Raimie into a hug, tightly squeezing. This also happens to obscure the glow, if it was even real.

“Don’t EVER make me worry like that again,” the stranger growls.

Raimie pushes against the man’s chest, and at his insistence, the stranger releases him.

“You didn’t need to worry,” Raimie says. “Oswin had the situation well in hand. Didn’t you, Oswin?”

Oh. They’re speaking to me now. I thought I’d been forgotten. Possibly.

And they know my name. How?

“I did what was necessary for the cleanest escape possible,” I say.

“So?” Raimie asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Does he pass?”

“We’ll see.”

As the stranger advances on me, I stand up straighter.

“My name is Aramar,” the stranger says. “Do you know who I am?”

I narrow my eyes. From the way he phrased it, that question must require more than the answer that anyone in Daira might give, but I have no clue what secrets the famous persona of Aramar might be hiding.

That such secrets exist doesn’t surprise me. I always thought the puzzle that is Aramar was missing pieces, but my duties in the queen's workshop have sheltered me, for the most part, from court politics. I haven’t been exposed to the man that often.

If I have nothing to presently offer him, though, I might as well start with what I know and extrapolate from there. That strategy has never failed to serve me in the past.

“You’re the queen’s confidant,” I say. “Supposedly, you’re of the exiled Audish royal line too.”

Silently, Aramar waits, giving me nothing.

Nothing except for the way he’s holding himself, as if a threat could appear at any moment. The near silent approach, where I was oblivious to his presence until he called for his son. And that child’s capabilities! Dropping into a seven-on-one fight without a thought. Not the slightest flinch when a dozen enemies were charging him. Who does that?

When realization hits, I want to take a step back, but I hold my ground as I answer.

“You’re part of the Hand.”

“Excellent, Oswin,” Aramar says with a nod of approval. “Much faster than the other candidates.”

He glances at Raimie, who’s still bouncing with excitement.

“And my son likes you,” he says, as if to himself, “which is impressive in its own right.”

A weighty gaze falls on me, considering, and I stand stock-still, meeting Aramar’s eyes with a confidence I don’t feel.

“I don’t see the harm. We’ll give you a try,” he says. “How would you like to join the queen’s Hand?”

I palmed a bullet, the projectile from nearly two decades ago, and slowly rolled it from one side of my hand to the other. It had become my good luck charm, a memento of the night I’d met Raimie, the child who’d become my best friend despite the seven-year gap between us. Who after a nine-year separation, hadn’t recognized me when we’d met on a boat in Daira’s harbor, no matter that it had seemed like he might have for a moment.

Nine years surely explained Raimie’s change in demeanor. When he’d first returned from his convalescence, a strange sense of innocence had smothered every trace of the friend I’d sacrificed everything for, but over the last two years, that had faded. Raimie had once more become the confident, brash boy that I’d been inseparable from in Daira.

The one I’d enjoyed testing my skills against during sparring contests. Who’d loved, during Hand training, to race over the rooftops with me. Who’d confessed his darkest secrets during a week when Aramar had been away and his home had been less than welcoming. Nine years and the injuries that he’d sustained in the accident surely accounted for Raimie’s loss of memory. Surely.

Damnit, I couldn’t keep dwelling on the past like this.

Once more, I snatched Little’s report off of my desk, determined to finish it this time. In it, the youngest member of the Hand spent a great deal of time describing the journey to Qena as well as the village itself, at least at first. I recognized the delaying tactic, even in its written form, but I still took my time while reading this part.

A village of scientists and engineers? What a beautiful concept! Maybe I could visit them when I had spare time. I could show them my bullet and the original pistol from years before, the one I’d stashed away from prying hands and minds. Together, the scientists and I could unravel the mechanisms that made the gun from Daira’s tear so reliable and accurate, and once that puzzle was solved, we could tweak the crude replica that I’d devised years ago, further improving upon it. It would be a glorious trip, assuming I could ever find the free time needed to make it.

Little eventually meandered away from his lengthy description, and when I read about the group’s time in the village itself, I groaned.

Of course Rhylix had shown up in the same town. That Eselan always appeared at the most convenient or, depending on one’s point of view, inconvenient of times.

I was well aware that my dislike of Rhylix was irrational. Four years ago, when Marcuset and I had received a coded message from Eledis, calling for us to ready the troops, I’d been overjoyed, eager to prepare everything for the Audish royal family’s return. Marcuset had warned me that Raimie might not be the same, but I hadn’t listened to him. My childhood friend was coming home!

Then, Raimie had arrived, and very little recognition had passed between us. Instead, my friend had insisted on adding to the danger to his soldiers, all to retrieve his new friend. Rhylix.

Ever since then, I hadn’t been able to shake my dislike of the man, despite everything Rhylix had done for Raimie and his people.

The Eselan’s addition to Raimie’s group in Qena wasn’t what had triggered my dismay, though. Once again, my friend had come up with a ridiculous plan, and once again, I was expected to help with it, not that I ever truly minded doing that. Helping Raimie with the reckless and daring was one of my favorite pastimes, but unfortunately, it usually came with additional work.

Was this what my life would become? Work piled on work until I was so overwhelmed with it that it killed me?

No. I couldn’t think like that.

Tucking the half-read report in a breast pocket, I left my office. It was time to speak with a man I despised.

Adventures of the Hand 4.2

Middle

 

I found Eledis on the other side of the palace, but the old man wasn’t alone. Gistrick and Marcuset were in the study with him. I could hear the three of them shouting from the end of the hall, but when I slipped into the room, the argument, whatever it had been about, cut off.

I smiled at their shocked expressions. Using my status as spymaster to intrude on sensitive moments like this was always a pleasure, even if I sorely missed my previous anonymity as a simple ship’s captain.

“What are you three up to?” I asked.

Even with it lingering more on Marcuset than on the others, these three men’s sense of guilt was almost imperceptible, but I caught on to it regardless. Reading people’s faces was a skill that Aramar had extensively trained me in.

One of the men gave an excuse of logistics for the investiture to explain their argument, but now that my interest had been piqued, I was only half-listening to it. What had they really been discussing before I’d interrupted?

Usually, I would discount what I'd seen here, attributing it to the planning of a surprise or something equally as harmless. For a time, I’d increase the number of people watching these three, but that would be the extent of my precautions.

These were not normal times. A new king was about to be crowned, or whatever they called the process in this strange land. The period from now until the end of Raimie’s first year on the throne would be exceptionally perilous for him. Add to that my suspicions that we had a traitor in our midst, and one got a jumpy spymaster.

When Ring had first brought the possibility of treachery to my attention, I hadn’t taken it seriously. As good as Ring was at her job, she also had an unhealthy fear of betrayal, one that sometimes manifested as paranoia. She constantly saw plots against those she loved, even from the most harmless of people.

When she’d brought me evidence of her theory, however, I’d paid attention to her claims.

One of her contacts had discovered a suspicious flask during the one-year anniversary of Auden’s liberation. People, both notable and insignificant, had packed the capital for the festivals and feasts.

That day, I’d been in a good mood, mostly because Raimie hadn’t once tried to escape from my watch. Playing the role of bodyguard was always more fun if one’s charge actually cooperated with you. Because of that, my only challenge at the time had been keeping my friend away from Ren.

She’d attended the anniversary ball with Kylorian, and subtly guiding Raimie out of her path had taken every trick I knew. At the time, a meeting between the two of them would have been disastrous, given how much of a mess my friend had still been from how she’d left him, and that day, Raimie had been so very content. I hadn’t wanted the evening ruined for him, not with a reminder of what he’d lost at least.

Later that night, after most revelers had gone home to sleep off their drunken stupor, Ring had come along and ruined my good mood. She’d given me the flask, flushed with what she’d viewed as victory, and I’d had enough time to carefully glance over the folded message inside before the flask and its contents had disappeared.

What I’d gathered from that note had been enough to convince me that Ring was right. A malicious plot against Raimie was afoot, and our unknown enemy was using Esela to gather their reports, a tactic stolen straight from the Hand.

Even now, so many months later, our only clue about the traitor was the Eselan nature of that note’s recipient. Nothing further had surfaced, much to my chagrin. Raimie’s Hand and its various subordinates were supposed to be the pinnacle of spy networks in this world, and someone else was besting us.

Some nights, the lack of results drove me up a wall. I might excel at solving puzzles, but I needed more than one, single piece to do that well. I wasn’t like Thumb, who could look at whatever slight evidence had been gathered and extrapolate a ‘pattern’ from it, if the subject matter matched his obsessions. I needed more data to move forward.

The only assumption I felt certain of was that Doldimar was involved in this plot. As I’d told Raimie weeks ago, no other nation would want to take advantage of Auden’s weakened state, not when the kingdom had made an ally of Ada’ir.

The Southern Kingdoms might try to take control through economic means, but with Ada’ir providing necessary and reasonable trade agreements, such a ploy from those infighting nations would decisively fail.

Soon after Doldimar had disappeared, Ratchav had looked like they might, for the first time in decades, try to expand their borders, even if said expansion happened to be across the sea, but with Ada’ir’s army between the two nations, that plan had quickly flopped as well.

For a time, I’d toyed with the idea that the Matvai were involved in this plot, but the mountain clans had always been aggressively isolationist, more so than Ratchav, and that stance hadn’t changed, even with Raimie’s current round of negotiations.

In the known world, no other nation could contest Auden’s sovereignty. The ruins to the north suggested that, at some point, a realm might have existed beyond the mountains, but it had long since vanished from the face of the earth. Auden’s former neighbor, Lyzencroft, had also gone the way of that supposed ancient civilization, nothing but dead cities and wild forests. The small corner of the continent where the Esela had once carved out a haven for themselves was full of nothing but desolation as well. That left only one significant player on the board: Doldimar.

With the Dark Lord gone and no way to track him, however, I was at a loss as to how I could proceed with this investigation. On the night in question, one of Ring’s contacts had found our only clue, the flask, in the gardens, which had been both unmonitored and crowded during the ball. Trying to learn who’d dropped the flask out of everyone who’d visited the gardens that evening had been a nightmare, one that had surfaced nothing.

Given that, I’d been forced to lay low and watch for suspicious activity. Activity such as what Eledis, Gistrick, and Marcuset were currently displaying.

“Can we help you, spymaster?” Eledis asked.

I must have been staring at them for too long. Tiredly blinking, I resisted the urge to rub my eyes while scrambling to remember why I’d come here in the first place.

“Do you have any plans for the palace’s spires, Eledis?” I asked.

“None currently. So far as I know, no one would want to climb all those stairs on a daily basis,” Eledis said. “Why?”

“I need them for the king’s latest pet project. I wanted to ensure they’ll be vacant when our guests arrive,” I said. “If I require anything else from you, I’ll let you know.”

Turning, I started for the door.

“Guests?” Eledis asked behind me. “What guests?”

Fixing him with a stern stare, I said, “It’s not my place to say.”

It really wasn’t. I carried out the king’s will in whatever way he decided to use me, serving as an extension of my friend if you will, and because of that, I didn’t need to explain my actions to anyone who chose to question them. Let Raimie tell those three magic-phobic men about how he planned to gather, house, and train who knew how many primeancers in the palace.

With an unpleasant task completed, I proceeded to a much more anticipated chore. When I reached Ring’s room in the maid’s quarters, I knocked on the door and stepped back, prepared to wait, but it opened much more quickly than I’d expected.

After hurrying outside, an unknown man scurried away from Ring’s room, only briefly pausing at the sight of me glaring at him. Ring soon followed with her hair disheveled and face paints slightly smeared. Seeing this, my guts twisted into a knot, and I folded my arms behind my back to hide my fists.

“Learn anything useful?” I lightly asked.

“Not in the slightest,” Ring said with a yawn. “He was boring in bed too. What a waste of time.”

I said nothing in return, afraid of what might come out if I opened my mouth, and looking me over, Ring grinned, leaning forward so that her robe gaped open.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked.

“No. Thank you,” I said, firmly fixing my eyes above her head. “I have a new assignment for you.”

Straightening, Ring crossed her arms.

“But I was so enjoying tracking our spy,” she said with a pout.

“Ring…” I sighed.

Rolling her eyes, she snapped, “Fine. What’s the new assignment, then?”

Alouin, I hated it when she was upset with me, but… I wasn’t exactly happy right now either.

“You’re aware of the list that Thumb and Pointer have written for us while on their search?” I asked.

“You mean the hunt for the Dark Lord we’ll never find? Yeah, I know all about that silly quest and their extra duties,” Ring said. “At least they’re keeping track of potential threats, like primeancers while, on their tryst.”

I’d never like hearing that tone directed at anyone I loved, least of all when it came from a member of the Hand.

Frowning, I said, “Ring, those are your-”

“-family, I know,” she said with a grimace. “I’m just jealous, Oswin.”

At my name on her lips, my heart fluttered, but I forced my frown to deepen instead of listening to what that pathetic organ wanted to do.

“Middle,” Ring corrected with an eyeroll. “So, the list?”

“I want you to go to the potential primeancers on it and invite them to the palace,” I said.

With her eyes lighting up, Ring clasped her hands in front of her face.

“Oo…” she breathed. “What does the king want with them?”

“Not your concern,” I said. “You have your orders. Sweet talk the people on that list into coming here. It should be an interesting challenge for you. They won’t want to come, and you can’t force them to if they say no.”

She beamed with the last of her early morning hostility vanishing.

“I look forward to it.”

If that was true, why didn’t she seem like she did? Why was she looking at me with a slight pinch to her eyes?

“Good,” I said. “If you need any additional details for your mission, I’ll be in my office-”

“Middle?” Ring interrupted. “When was the last time you slept?”

Oh. That explained why she looked so concerned. Had my fatigue gotten bad enough that others could see it?

“What do you mean?” I asked with a fake smile.

When Ring stepped closer, it sent my heart leaping like a rabbit in my chest, only increasing in speed when she wiped her thumbs under my eyes. On inspecting their pads, she lost all expression, examining the powder found there.

“As I thought,” she said. “Come on.”

Snatching my wrist, Ring dragged me into her room.

Adventures of the Hand 4.3

Middle

“Ring!” I hissed.

I glanced back as the door to her bedroom thumped closed behind us.

“What are you doing?” I continued. “We can’t-”

Shoving me onto her mussed bed, Ring sternly pointed a finger at me.

“Stay.”

With that, Ring fled behind the screen that halved her room, and I considered bolting rather than following directions. Why were we in here right now? Much as Ring had offered for me to follow her through that closed door earlier, I knew how much she hadn't actually wanted it. She’d once told me how much she valued her privacy from the other members of the Hand, after all.

Before I could decide whether I was fleeing or not, Ring returned with a small bottle in hand.

“This will work much better than that shitty powder you’re currently using,” she said, placing the bottle on the bed’s edge. “Now, take off your jacket and lie, belly-first, on the bed.”

Wait, what? This wasn’t- I didn’t… Well, I did, but I’d wanted it to be more-

Making an exasperated noise, Ring straddled my lap, reaching for the top button of my jacket, and my thoughts stalled for a moment, resuming with difficulty.

Alouin, she was close. Hell, I badly wanted to throw my arms around her waist and pull her on top of me, but I shouldn’t encourage… whatever this was.

I really, really shouldn’t.

“Arms up,” Ring said.

When I followed those instructions, my shirt came off, making my heart both seize and jump in my chest, but by the time it was over my head, Ring had climbed out of my lap.

“Face down,” she demanded, pointing at her pillows. “Now, Middle.”

Oh. Oh! A massage, one of those things Ring specialized in. That made so much more sense than anything else I’d been thinking. Damnit, why had my thoughts automatically gone there? I should know better than that.

Fortunately, a pillow in my face was there to mask my chagrin, and as I fought it down internally, Ring climbed to sit on the small of my back.

“So many tensed muscles, Middle. That’s bad for your health,” she said. “Try to relax.”

And wasn’t that going to be a struggle, what with her pinning me to her bed? Still, I did my best. I focused on her fingers and the heels of her palms, on where she placed them and how she moved them to release strain from my body. Soon enough, I started drifting off without meaning to: not quite asleep and not quite awake. 

Moving to rest on my thighs, Ring began her work on my lower back, and I made an utterly embarrassing noise, thankfully muffled by the pillow.

“Ha! Figures,” Ring said with a laugh. “You would carry your tension here.”

Alouin, what she was doing was pure magic. I hadn’t even known how tense I was until she’d gotten started with this, and hell, I didn’t want her to stop… 

That might be a problem, but right now, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Why do you refuse to call me by name, Oswin?” Ring asked. “You did when we first met but ever since then…”

Well did I remember the moment she was talking about. Even beleaguered as she’d been at the time, I’d beheld Ring as the essence of beauty. The way she’d faced down the men who’d wanted to murder her, the defiant tilt of her chin, the glint in her hazel eyes: a memory that clearly blazed in my mind. I’d often wondered if I’d fallen for her then or if it had been in the subsequent years, spent working together.

“Did you know that you were my first mission as a member of the Hand?” I asked with sheets muffling my voice.

“I always thought it might be so,” Ring said. “You were quite inexperienced at the time.”

She laughed, and I wished I could listen to her delight forever.

“I should never have tried to fight so many of those guards at once,” I said, groaning at the recollection, “but you were desperate, and I couldn’t let them kill you. Speaking your name as I did was a mistake. Even if we know each other’s names, the members of a Hand are never to use them. We can’t have a strong attachment to anyone.”

Silently, Ring released her pressure on my legs, and I thought she might be done, which was more disappointing than I might like, but then she removed my boots. While she started working her magic on my feet, I propped myself up on my elbows before retrieving Little’s report. I should finish it while I was ‘stuck’ here.

“Do you ever stop working?” Ring asked with a strained laugh.

“No,” I distractedly said. “Maybe I’ll get a break when I’m dead.”

The fingers on the balls of my feet paused for several heartbeats before resuming, and unwilling to question that pause, I started the report from the beginning again.

“You know Raimie will never remember you, right?” Ring said “Marcuset told us that the accident did something to his head.”

“I’ve accepted that fact,” I said, “but he’s Raimie. I know you two didn’t spend much time together before he left Daira, but he was my best friend, all parts of him. In my entire life, pretending we were strangers when he returned was the most difficult deception I’ve ever-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Ring said. “I had two reasons for joining this crazy quest to Auden. One was for Raimie, and the other was-”

As I ran my eyes over a line in Little’s report again, my body stiffened, undoing all of Ring’s hard work in an instant.

“What is it?” she asked, as if from a far distant place.

I checked the report’s date. Alouin above, it had arrived two weeks ago. How had I slipped up so badly that I’d missed this until now?

Scrambling out of bed, I hastily grabbed my shirt, tossing it on. Ring joined me on her feet, snapping her fingers to get my attention.

“Middle! What is it?” she snapped.

“Read it for yourself,” I growled, shoving the report into her chest. “Then, start your assignment.”

Hell, that had been harsh. Before I left, I stumbled to a halt, clinging to the doorframe.

“And thank you,” I said with an awkward smile. “Truly.”

Shaking her head, Ring tossed the bottle that I’d forgotten at me, and as I took off into a run, I stashed it. Don’t ask me why I was moving with such haste. What was I going to do? Sprint toward Qena and hope to encounter Raimie and his soldiers on the way?

At that thought, I laughed, startling a maid. Sure, I probably couldn’t help my friend now, but I could prepare the palace for when he arrived. My first task would be finding a room that could work as a better resting place than a bedroll, perched on glass above a chasm.

I should visit Raimie’s study to retrieve said bedroll so my friend would have something familiar in his new room, and the fastest route there was via a shortcut through the service passages, one of which was quickly approaching.

As I spun onto it, something hard and fleshy stopped me short. I went down in a tumble of limbs, landing on whatever had caused this embarrassing fall, but even with the breath knocked out of my lungs, long-drilled instincts took over.

I rolled to my feet with a knife in my hand before clutching my aching chest. Seemingly in response, a pained wheeze came from the ground, and while searching the hallway for threats, I noted this sound had come from Little, sprawled at my feet. Taking a shuddering breath, the youngest member of the Hand followed my example, scrambling to his feet.

But if Little was back…

Weak laughter drifted from further down the hall.

“Gods, that hurts,” Raimie groaned. “I’m sorry about laughing. Two members of the Hand collapsing so spectacularly was too much for me to resist, though. Did you two hurt anything?”

Alouin, how could he ask that?

A crutch was keeping Raimie upright with its support unmistakably necessary, considering how heavily he was leaning on it. He’d tried to undermine the severity of what was wrong with him, walking on his own and pleasantly smiling, but the act wouldn’t fool… anyone, actually.

Ele’s light was thickly clinging to him, like a halo engulfing his body, and Raimie never used his powers so blatantly. He wasn’t afraid to display his primacy, but the fact that he was relying on it simply to stand told me how unwell he truly was.

Taking this in, I tried to breathe or move, but alarm had locked my body in a vice. I hadn’t seen Raimie court death so closely since the accident that had robbed me of my friend.

The boat pulls into the dock, and while the sailors weigh anchor and lower the gangplank, I rapidly shift from foot to foot. Once I have a path to it, I can’t say how I stay where I am instead of sprinting onto the ship’s deck.

Marcuset debarks first with his head hanging low. Even with that, I somehow catch the commander’s eye. Maybe my wiggling is what prompts him to come over.

“Did you find him?” I ask.

The ocean is vast, so big that I can’t wrap my head around it. Finding one boy, floating on its endless surface, is incomprehensible.

I ran for help as soon as Raimie fell into the water this afternoon, but Aramar didn’t finish organizing a search and rescue party until what felt like hours later. In cases where the sea has dragged someone into its embrace, rescue depends entirely on how quickly the hunt for its victims begins. So, did this one start early enough or not?

“We found him,” Marcuset tiredly says.

“That’s great news!”

Clapping my hands together, I cock my head.

“Why do you look so unhappy, then?”

“I’ll explain,” Aramar says from behind me.

I don’t jump, which is a testament to my years of training, but still, that man’s approach went undetected AGAIN. Spymaster Aramar’s lack of presence is enviable.

“Spymaster!” I say, stiffly saluting.

“No need for formality this evening, Middle,” Aramar says with no inflection in his voice. “You’ve saved my family’s lives, after all.”

He still has his eyes fixed on the gangplank, which quickly draws my attention as well. Soon enough, two pairs of stretcher bearers descend from the ship, making my stomach drop, and when they set foot on the dock, I leap forward. Aramar shouts something behind me, but I ignore him, intent on those stretchers.

The first of them holds Samantha, Raimie’s mother. She’s sleeping peacefully, wrapped in blankets, and I quickly abandon my inspection of her. I couldn’t care less what’s happened to that woman.

Raimie is in the second. The kid has been tied to the stretcher, but when my friend flails against those bonds, I understand why they’ve taken precautions like that. His arm is purple and swollen from the wrist to the elbow, badly broken, and he’s staring at nothing, frantically shifting his eyes back and forth while he incoherently mumbles. That ramble is only broken by the occasional, wet cough. Despite the fact that someone seems to have changed his clothes since his tumble into the sea, drying him off as well, moisture is still clinging to his new outfit, and goosebumps are spread across his skin.

If those issues weren’t bad enough, Ele and Daevetch are fighting for control of Raimie’s body. Black tendrils slap at white vines, and the occasional bloom of light drives its adversary away. Raimie’s face alternates between an angry, bared grin and serene stillness with those changes happening so swiftly that disquiet rises in me.

At the edge of my awareness, I note Aramar gently tugging on me, so I step back, letting the stretcher bearers continue toward the carriages at the end of the dock.

“You did well, Middle,” he says, patting my shoulder.

“I could have been faster,” I whisper. “Maybe if I had, Raimie wouldn’t be-”

I stop short, refusing to say another word.

“My son isn’t dying. He’s stronger than you think,” Aramar says. “Even if he was leaving us, though, it wouldn’t matter. I’m taking both of them to Allanovian, where they’ll get treatment.”

“The Eselan city?” I say. “They’ll turn you away! No humans are allowed there.”

“My family is,” Aramar says.

He grins, the first real emotion he’s shown since his return.

“Where do you think Raimie learned that fighting style you’re so envious of?”

I was certainly jealous of it BEFORE I replicated the style on my own, in secret. 

But that’s not the point right now.

“I have friends there,” Aramar says, crinkling his brow. “They’ll have to see us.”

Despite the clear evidence of his disquiet, I decide to believe his assertion, and that relieves me more than I care to admit.

“Allanovian has the best healers in Ada’ir. If you’re going there, I’m sure Raimie will be fine,” I say.

But then, I stiffen again. Aramar may have told me to abandon formality, but I need to know what he expects from me for the next few weeks.

“Do you have any assignments for me while you’re gone, spymaster?”

With a sad smile, Aramar reaches over his head for the delicate chain around his neck, taking it off.

“I certainly do,” he says.

He hands me a key, dangling from the end of the chain.

“This will give you access to our records.”

Reaching into a pocket, Aramar gives me a pin, smelted into the shape of a hand.

“And this will get you in to see the queen, night or day. Marcuset will explain the rest. Good luck, Oswin.”

When Aramar offers me his hand, I shake it, despite my growing trepidation. Then, Raimie’s father trots to catch up with his wife and son, and while I inspect his gifts with a frown, Marcuset sidles up next to me.

“Congratulations,” he says.

“For what?” I say, pocketing the pin to further inspect the key.

What does it unlock? Records? Records for what?

“On your rise to the rank of spymaster, of course,” Marcuset says.

The rank of… Wait.

“WHAT?”

Adventures of the Hand 4.4

Middle

 

Taking fistfuls of Little’s jacket, I pulled him uncomfortably close to me.

“You were supposed to keep him safe!” I growled.

My adopted son wouldn’t lift his gaze from the floor, and at his miserable expression, I almost stopped scolding him. I almost released him and told him that we’d fix this, but this was exactly what I’d been afraid of, a mistake that could have irreparable consequences.

Pushing forward was for Little’s own good as a spy.

“What did you do? Let him go off on his own again?” I snapped. “I should remove you from the Hand, making you revisit your training. How do a few months of processing paperwork sound?"

Little’s face blanched, but he remained resolutely stoic.

“Nothing to say for yourself, huh?” I said, shaking him.

At the tail end of that, white light zapped between us, and stumbling back, I spun on Raimie—the obvious source of that light—intending to tear into him for leaving Little behind. That reproach died on my tongue before I could speak it.

Raimie was gasping, supported by Rhylix. His crutch was on the ground, most likely abandoned when he’d thrown Ele between me and Little, and when I noted Rhylix glaring at me, I, in turn, swallowed guilt.

“This injury wasn’t Little’s fault,” Raimie said once he’d recovered.

He retrieved his crutch with Rhylix’s help.

“A storm snuck up on us while I was fixing Qena’s tear. A pebble and especially fierce wind did this to me.”

I narrowed my eyes, wondering whether to believe this tall tale. If Raimie ever lied, it was in service to the people he cared about, but even in circumstances like those, his deceptions were easy to spot, which I’d always found ironic, given what he’d once been. Right now, I couldn’t detect falsehood in this story.

“You and I need to have a very long chat,” I told Little, “but it can wait. Get out of here.”

Nodding, Little slunk away, and I fought to keep from rubbing my face.

“And you!” I snapped instead. “Why do you make life so difficult for me? Sir.”

Alouin, I had to remember to add that sign of respect. When I was emotionally compromised, as I was now, such signs of formality were quickly forgotten. I ended up slipping into the jargon and beat of conversation that Raimie and I had used as kids.

“I promise, that’s not my aim,” Raimie said with a smirk.

Of course it wasn’t. It never was, and yet, that was what always happened.

“At least tell me that you’ll rest until the investiture,” I said. “In a proper bed, sir.”

“That was the plan, but then, I remembered that I don’t know which wing holds the bedrooms,” Raimie said, grimacing. “Would you mind showing me?”

“Not at all, sir,” I said.

Finally, my charge was showing some sense.

As I led Raimie and Rhylix through the palace, I could feel the Eselan’s stare drilling into my back. That man was probably upset about the commotion I’d caused, and for once, I thought his prickly temper might be warranted. I should have waited to discipline Little until Raimie wasn’t in sight, but I’d just been so angry to see my childhood friend’s body broken again that I hadn’t thought about what I was doing.

This was why a member of a royal Hand couldn’t make personal attachments. Once that happened, a spy made mistakes much more often, and Raimie couldn’t afford a spymaster who was worn out and emotionally entangled, not when danger was courting him with every breath.

I should step down. It was a prospect I’d been toying with for the last year, but the timing had never been right, not that four days before Raimie’s investiture would be good timing either. Dealing with a host of new responsibilities and handling an inexperienced spymaster would be difficult for Raimie, but it might be for the best.

It was only a matter of time before my exhaustion caused more than simple mistakes, like what had happened today. Soon enough, I’d fail to assign one of the Hand to bodyguard rotation or something equally as terrible. Before disaster struck, someone else should take up the reins, and Pointer, the one I’d been preparing to take my position for years, was ready for the job, even if he didn’t know it yet. Yes, Raimie would be safe with the other spy in my current role.

“Here we are,” I said, gesturing toward a closed door. “It should be to your liking, sir. The occasional diplomat’s guard sleeps here, and I’ll be next door, if you require anything.”

“Sounds perfect,” Raimie said.

Shuffling into the small room, he got into bed with Rhylix’s help.

“Thank you, Rhy,” he said. “Get some rest before starting up with the school, ok? You and Oswin will need to work out plenty of logistics before we’re set up.”

And wouldn’t that be fun?

“Are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself?” Rhylix asked.

“More than sure. I’m not entirely helpless,” Raimie said. “I can hobble far enough to get help, if needed.”

He grinned, which did not help with arguing his case. It pulled his chalky skin tight over his cheekbones, emphasizing how sickly he looked at the moment.

“If you say so,” Rhylix said. “I’ll come by later this evening to check on you. Stay in bed until I return.”

With a chuckle, Raimie said, “Yes, healer! I’ll see you then.”

When the Eselan left, I made to follow, but Raimie called me back.

“We need to talk.”

So. Maybe Raimie had reached the same conclusion as me. That hurt more than I’d expected.

Closing the door behind me, I absently pulled my lucky bullet from its resting place in my pocket, tumbling it through my fingers. Settling against a wall, I waited for the berating that was sure to come.

“Did you ever figure out how that thing works?” Raimie tiredly asked.

Surprised, I almost dropped the bullet.

“…This?” I asked.

Why would Raimie want to know about it?

“No. Its trigger continues to elude me.”

“That’s a shame. I know how much the difference between that pistol from the tear and the flintlock you created bothered you,” Raimie said. “If it helps, I always thought your design was brilliant. Transmuting the huge explosion that massacred a Daira gang to the tiny one our guns can handle was pure genius. Made me a tad jealous, if I’m being honest.”

“Yes, well. At times, your mastery of anything written makes me want to tear my hair…”

Rapidly blinking, I fell still. Had I heard that right? An explosion that had destroyed a gang in Daira. That had happened before Raimie had left the capital. Before he’d left my life.

No. No, on top of everything else, my hearing must be going too. Marcuset had insisted this would never happen.

So, why were my eyes burning while a single sentence tripped over itself in my mind?

“Sir, I don’t mean to pry,” I said, “but are you trying to tell me something? And if you are, could you please clarify what you meant?”

Raimie looked away with his throat working several times before he could speak again.

“I remember, Oswin. I’m sorry it took so long.”

With the burn in them almost overwhelming me, I squeezed my eyes closed while something flattened my throat. No matter how hard I concentrated on it, my breathing continued to hiccup and stretch, uneven all around, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

“When did this happen?” I faintly asked.

In painful jabs, I recalled recent moments when Raimie had sped in the opposite direction from me or times when my friend would go strangely silent, usually after he’d brought up events that had occurred during the first nine years of his life.

Raimie scratched something while considering how to respond before sighing.

“The block on my memories broke a little over two years ago, but they didn’t fully assimilate until the last anniversary celebration,” he said. “I may be ridiculously quick to recall anything written, but apparently, that speed suffers when it comes to my own damn memories.”

“It’s been that long?” I hissed through gritted teeth.

Cracking my eyes open, I found my friend, but as had become the norm in the last year, Raimie wouldn’t meet my gaze, focusing on his twiddling thumbs.

“I didn’t know how to broach the subject, so I avoided you,” he said. “Then, I almost died. I realized how easy it would be for me to fade from the world without you knowing that I remembered our friendship from long ago. So, I’m sorry for running away from the subject. I’m sorry for taking so long to tell you. Mostly, I’m just godsdamn sorry.”

Was there a pre-written response for this sort of confession? Because if there was, I didn’t know it. Damn, I wanted to punch Raimie for not coming to me earlier, but at the same time, something absolutely exuberant was crackling across every inch of my skin. My friend was back!

“You’re back,” I repeated.

For some reason, saying that out loud broke the pressure that had been building in me: the burn in my eyes and the fist in my throat. Sliding down the wall, I drew my knees up, hugging them, and cried. I didn’t know what was causing this breakdown. Fatigue? Anger? Relief? Ridiculous happiness? I genuinely didn’t know. All I could do was sit on the floor, weeping into my knees, and try with everything I had to stop it.

Vaguely, I heard something crash to the floor, but I didn’t realize what had happened until Raimie lightly brushed his fingers along my arm.

Jerking my head up, I said, “What are you doing out of bed? You’re supposed to be resting and… hell, Rhylix is going to kill me. You- you idiot.”

Searching me, Raimie bit his lips before getting to his knees in agonizingly slow increments. I wanted to stop him, to get him in bed—hell, Raimie was being the most Alouin damned difficult charge, even now—but I couldn’t move. Raimie wrapped his arms around me, giving me the most instinctual of human comforts, but it only made tears stream from my eyes even faster than before.

Nine years, I’d been wiped out of my best friend’s mind, three of which had been spent in his presence, and yes! Some of that time he’d claimed me as a friend, but it hadn’t… hadn’t been the same. Now that it was over, I could finally admit how much it had all hurt, how betrayed I’d felt, how ecstatic I was that my desperate hopes had come true.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that, but eventually, we ended up sprawled on the ground beside one another, propped up by a wall.

“Where does this leave us?” I asked. “I could act as your bodyguard when you didn’t remember me, but if we’re friend, truly friends like we once were, perhaps someone else should take my assigned slots.”

Raimie jerked around to face me with his mouth gaping.

“We’re friends?” he asked in a rush. “Even now?”

Huh?

“Why wouldn’t we be?” I asked.

“I-”

Sinking back to the floor, Raimie distractedly ran his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose… I thought you might hate me for how long it took me to approach you.”

“I’m certainly not happy about it,” I said, “but since when has such a lapse come between us?”

Slumping, Raimie said, “Oh, thank Alouin. All those months I spent running away from you, I was terrified about whether you hated me for forgetting you. I didn't care about losing the presence of another ally watching my back. I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

“Does that mean you want me to stay on as your bodyguard?” I asked.

There was a long silence, and when I looked over at Raimie, I smirked. The kid—and I couldn’t help but think of him as a kid right now—had fallen asleep, but I couldn’t blame him for that. He’d just finished a trip that had spanned hundreds of miles after taking a life-threatening injury. Of course he’d fallen asleep.

With difficulty, I got Raimie back into bed, somehow not waking him up despite the many jostles and bumps made during the trip, and when I slipped outside, it was with a decidedly jauntier step. My workload hadn’t decreased in the slightest, but Raimie had remembered our friendship, and because of that, perhaps… perhaps Nylion had too. 

For some reason, that simple fact made the burden lighter.

Chapter 75: Confession

Kylorian

As I waited outside the room where Raimie had been taking his meetings for the last two days, I fought to keep my foot from tapping or doing anything else that might show how agitated I was. I wasn’t scheduled to see him today—

Or scheduled the way he did it, at least, with messengers sent out to retrieve people as needed. It had become pretty clear to me that Raimie didn’t know how to do the logistics part of running a government yet, and I looked forward to helping with that.

—but I absolutely needed to speak with him. I’d put this conversation off as long as I could, hoping to let him heal up as much as possible, but- but he was here, and I needed help.

Raimie was a bit busy at the moment, though. From what I could faintly overhear through the closed door between us, I gathered that Ren had had similar thoughts to me today. She and Raimie were speaking in that room with her tone turning confused and intrigued and comforting in equal measures, and I was stuck here listening to it.

What was Raimie saying in there that had drawn so many different tones from her? Were they discussing his engagement to Queen Kaedesa? Was he telling her what had really happened in Qena, what had been the subject of rumors in Elisk since he’d come home? Or was he breaking her heart, yet again?

As soon as that thought had crossed my mind, I rejected it with a snort. I’d come to know Raimie well in the years since he’d first appeared in Auden. If that man did decide to reject Ren, he’d do it in the least harmful way possible. He’d have agonized over each word in the speech he’d meant to give her, to the point that it would have Ren agreeing with what he’d said, no matter that she’d already mentioned she’d do that anyway. Sure, his rejection would hurt her, as it must, but it wouldn’t have any lasting effects in the long run.

I didn’t know when I’d gained this much faith in Raimie. Perhaps it had been over the long months of our contest, where I’d constantly heard about his good works across the kingdom. People had always talked about how he’d never asked a thing in return for his service, save for the room and board he’d needed while accomplishing his tasks. Perhaps it was because with my concession to him finally here, I could let myself have this faith in him. Either way, one thing was for certain. Raimie had gained my loyalty, or as much of it as I was capable of giving him.

On the other side of the door, an Eselan in Ada’ir’s uniform was standing straight-backed with his eyes pinned on the wall opposite. The sight of him had surprised me when I’d first arrived. Even several years into our alliance with them, the people of Ada’ir rarely came to Auden’s shores, except for their queen and her small retinue of guards. I wondered why one of them was standing guard outside of Raimie’s room instead of with his queen.

When the door opened and Ren came through it, I straightened from where I’d been leaning against the wall, and almost immediately, she narrowed her eyes at me.

“Ky. Were you eavesdropping on us?” she said.

With my mouth dropped open, I was left at a loss for words, but fortunately, Raimie filled the silence with uncontrolled chortling.

“That would be fair turnabout, considering how I eavesdropped on him before I last left Elisk,” he said, “but I doubt Ky would do anything like that, Ren. He probably had the same idea as you. Or at least, I assume you’re here to talk?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m here for,” I said, pinning my eyes on Ren.

She ducked her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, before heaving a sigh.

“Sorry, Ky,” she said. “I…”

“It’s ok,” I said. “I understand where you were coming from, given… things.”

Slowly releasing a breath, Ren jerked her head in a nod before practically racing down the hall. We hadn’t talked much in the month Raimie had been away. It made sense that she was still wary of me.

After a tense moment, Raimie called out, “Are you coming in or not?”

Right. I took a deep breath before stepping into the room.

And immediately halting.

“Alouin above, what happened to you?”

Raimie was sunken into the room’s bed, probably from exhaustion, and his pallor was as gray as the sheets covering him. When he grinned, it made me wince; it looked so different from his typical enthusiastically pleased expression.

“A pebble and a storm, if you can believe it,” he said. “Please, come in. I promise it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“If you say so.”

I slowly came forward to perch on the chair already at his bedside.

“If you need to rest, I can come back later,” I tentatively said.

But Raimie made a face and shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’ve had enough rest lately,” he said. “And I’m glad you came. I’d have tried to find you myself if you hadn’t shown up. I’ve been thinking about your offer to help with all of this.”

He waved a hand overhead, as if to encompass the palace and everything that happened here.

“I have a few ideas for that and was hoping we could discuss them.”

Considering that was half of why I’d sought him out today…

“I’d love to,” I said.

Puffing up his cheeks, Raimie blew a breath out.

“Well, I guess my first question is how much do you want to be involved with… this,” he said.

With a raised eyebrow, I said, “With setting up your new government?”

Raimie nodded.

“As much as you think I can help,” I said. “With everything I’ve learned while growing up, I can bring a lot to the table, but… I know I could cause you issues too.”

Cocking his head, Raimie said, “Issues?”

It was my turn to blow out a long breath.

“My… relationship with… my father,” I said before waving it away. “We can talk more about it in a moment. Let’s finish with this subject first, yes?”

“All right,” Raimie slowly said. “Here’s my idea, then: I’m planning on running Auden a bit like they do in Ada’ir, with Ministers and the like. At first, I’ll appoint them, but once things are more settled throughout the realm, I’d like to have the people make those choices. That’s a goal for the long-term, though.”

I nodded along to show I was listening. It was good that he’d been thinking about these things.

Shifting uncomfortably, Raimie looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

“I’d like it if you would become one of those Ministers,” he said in a near mumble.

That… was a surprising ask. Did Raimie know how much power he might be handing me, a potential adversary, with a position like that?

When I failed to respond, Raimie rushed to fill the silence, shooting his gaze toward the ceiling.

“I was thinking you could handle everything safety-related in the capital. So, organizing and managing a peacekeeping force, figuring out how to regulate public resources like wells, and the like. It seemed to match up with some of your passions, or the ones I’ve noticed, at least. But what do I know? I may have learned a few things when it comes to governing over the last few years, but I’m still a nobody who grew up in the middle of-”

He fell silent, and I wondered what could have turned his face as stricken as mine sometimes had looked after one of Tanwadur’s lectures.

Hopefully, I could bring him out of it.

“That’s not a bad idea. I even have some experience with it from when I led Tiro’s spies back in the day,” I said. “Are you sure you want to have me in such a key position, though? What if I-?”

What? Fucked it up, like Tanwadur had always said I would without his guidance? I did not want to voice that insecurity to the man in front of me.

“I’m more than sure.”

The warmth in Raimie’s voice dragged me out of my head. He was giving me a crooked smile, one I hesitantly returned.

“Well, I’m grateful for your confidence in me,” I said, “and I’ll accept the position, if that’s where you think I can do the most good.”

For Auden and for you.

Turning solemn, Raimie said, “I do.”

Then, he broke into a spunky grin.

“Now, what are these supposed issues you think you could cause? Given everything I know about you, I’m having trouble thinking of any.”

Oh hell, how highly did he think of me? I had to get rid of any hero worship he might have toward me. Now.

“Like I said, it’s about my relationship with my father.”

Alouin, it already felt damn near impossible to meet Raimie’s gaze. There was no way I’d be able to maintain it throughout this part of our conversation.

“As the leader of Tiro, Dury has a lot of power and recognition, especially since Tiro became the final sort of resistance in those last few months before Doldimar vanished,” I said. “You may have noticed during our brief time working together that he has a claim on me. That hold has been fading recently, and over the next few weeks, I mean to sever it completely. I’d like to tell you why he’s always had that hold, which should explain why you might want to side with him during our coming disagreement.”

I slid my eyes sideways to catch a glimpse of Raimie, jerking them back away once I had. He was watching me so intently! That much attention on me, especially his, made me shift in my seat.

He failed to say a word, so I blew out a long breath.

“It started when I was young,” I said. “As a kid, I didn’t live in Tiro with Eliade or Tanwadur. So far as Auden knew, I was the last semi-legitimate heir to the kingdom’s throne, the descendant of Prince Nebailie. You know about him now, right?”

Raimie nodded.

“The half-brother of Auden’s last king,” he said, “and from what I understand, the founder of at least one resistance against Doldimar.”

“That’s right,” I said. “The resistance I was born into, in fact. It… doesn’t exist anymore.”

Holding my body perfectly still, I fought off memories of the kind, indulgent people who’d first raised me. The good of their memory had been ruined by the next part of my tale for Raimie, and I couldn’t afford to feel the grief of that blow, not when it would almost certainly have me losing control in front of a man I admired.

“When I was six, a visitor came to our hideaway from Tiro. Everyone knew about the hidden city by then, even if its location was still a mystery to all, but this was the first time anyone from outside of that city had heard from them,” I continued. “I was so excited for his arrival. I’d met a few strangers before then, but this visitor was the first one my caretakers couldn’t stop talking about. His arrival heralded a flurry of activity on a level I’d never experienced before.”

“When I met him, he awed me; he seemed so much larger than life. Such a good fighter and so accomplished too! He told me stories of the outside world that made me hungry to see it for myself. I went to bed that first night both curious and delighted, ready for the continuation of experiences that was planned for the next day.”

And that had been the last time I’d been so carefree and happy.

“We threw a feast for him on the second day of his visit, something to truly welcome him into our community. It was the first time we’d all been in one place for a long time, which… was a mistake.”

Heaving a sigh, I blinked hard against the heat in my eyes.

“I don’t remember much about the feast itself. I know it must have lasted a long time because I started chaffing to leave the table so I could do anything but sit there while the adults talked. I’d even have been happy to attend a lesson, which was my least favorite activity at the time. Still, all that’s truly clear for me beyond that is the… noises my caretakers started making toward the end of our meal. It was awful.”

They still rang in my ears as clear as day: coughing and choking and…

“They collapsed into their plated and didn’t get up.”

I fell silent. The room was so quiet, but I couldn’t change that state. It felt fragile, teetering on the edge of shattering. Just like me.

“He… poisoned your caretakers? Your family?” Raimie asked. “The visitor did this?”

Alouin, his voice had been so gentle. I didn’t know how to handle it. It was exactly the response I’d wanted from him, but it was also so very uncomfortable.

I hugged myself before jerking my head in a nod. It was taking everything I had to keep memories at bay.

Vomit leaking from slack lips.

The man beside me rising halfway to his feet with his hand on his sword’s hilt before he toppled.

People I’d loved.

“Was it Tanwadur?” Raimie asked again, as if nudging me to continue.

And I was beyond grateful that he’d been able to read between the lines of what I’d been telling him. I couldn’t, couldn’t have named my adoptive father as the perpetrator of such horror, and the fact that he’d done it for me had me loosening my grip on my chest.

“He told me he’d given me a lower dose of the same poison he’d given them. That he’d provide me with an antidote if I made a vow to come home with him. He wanted me to see Tiro for myself because he had great plans for me. Plans to free Auden. Plans that my caretakers hadn’t approved of. He asked me to hear him out so that I could understand why they’d had to die. And I did.”

I refused to say anything further. I wouldn’t detail all the ways that Tanwadur had warped and twisted and seduced me as a child, all the beautiful promises he’d never kept and the threats, punishments, and… rewards that had followed. Raimie didn’t need to know about any of that. He already knew more than most people in my life.

I took a deep breath, roughly shook my head, and dropped my hands to my sides.

“So, yes. That’s how I came to Tiro,” I said, “and it’s an example of why you might not want to make Dury your enemy. He’s… ruthless. When he wants to be. And good at pretending otherwise, like he does with Eliade and my siblings.”

I had reason to believe that his relationship with my mother had once been very similar to mine, from the violent start to the congenial balance whenever she ‘behaved’. But I knew for a fact that Tanwadur had never treated my siblings so harshly. For him, their purpose was to serve collateral, keeping me in line. Always had been.

But now, it was once more Raimie’s turn to speak, and I was absolutely petrified about what he might say.

Chapter 76: Help for a Friend

Raimie

 

Kylorian had stopped talking, obviously waiting for my reply. Unfortunately, I was a little too lost in my own head to speak up immediately.

“I knew there was something wrong with that man when we first met him!” Nylion said.

He was pacing across the room behind Kylorian with his hands raised to strangle the air.

“Gods, I should have followed my instincts about him. Damn Chaos for advising caution!”

I wasn’t sure what he'd meant by that, but I couldn’t question him right now, not with Kylorian staring at me. We’d already gone through one awkward, revelatory conversation today. I wasn’t keen on having another, no matter how well the first had gone.

Ren had taken my recently changed relationship with Nylion relatively calmly, if also with a drop of confusion. I’d had to make things explicitly clear with her before she’d understood what I was telling her, which had been uncomfortable, but then, she’d smiled at me.

“I’m glad the two of you are happy. It’s what I’ve always wanted for you,” she’d said, “and for the record, I’d be fine with you having a relationship with another person outside of your head as well. Not sure how I feel about you having one with another woman, weird as that is, but another man or other? Fine with that. Although I guess that might cause a scandal among the other kingdoms, what with you soon to become king.”

I… had not and still did not know what to think about that idea. Given how many difficulties I’d had with one romantic relationship alone, I was pretty sure Ren would be enough for me for the foreseeable future. Anything else seemed… intimidating.

“…Raimie?” Kylorian hesitantly asked.

Right. My friend and the horrendous truth he’d just shared.

On the other side of Kylorian, Nylion stopped short with his face pulled into a grimace.

“I did not mean to distract you,” he said. “It is just… his story. I can-”

He cut himself off, pinching his lips inward, but the word he must have meant to say still echoed in our head: relate.

I can relate.

A sense of intrinsically knowing what someone else’s pain felt like, even if I’d never experienced something similar. The same sense I’d felt after Rhylix had shared his truth with me years ago.

How could Nylion and I relate to Kylorian’s story? The idea that we could when our life had been nowhere near as terrible as what he’d described was awful of me, but there it was, daring me to deny it.

“I understand that I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

The brittleness of Kylorian’s voice snapped me fully out of my thoughts.

“I’ll… give you some time to think about it.”

He slapped his knees, leaning forward as if to stand up, and I shot toward him, pushing down on his leg.

“You haven’t. Put me in a difficult position, I mean,” I said. “I was just thinking it over. Trying to decide what to say, which was stupid when I already have the words I need.”

I craned my head to meet Kylorian’s eyes. He’d been darting them over the room for quite a while now, but while I understood that impulse, I needed to make sure he was listening to me now.

“You’ve told me all of this as if I’d have to make some grand, agonizing choice at the end of it, but I don’t, Ky. I really don’t,” I said, “because the choice is simple. I pick you.”

Kylorian froze, staring at me without a blink. Meanwhile, Nylion raised an eyebrow at the other man, crossing his arms with a huff.

“Did he think there was a chance in the void that we’d chose a sadistic fuck like Tanwadur over him?” he said.

With a miniscule headshake at him, I leaned forward to rest a hand on Kylorian’s shoulder, smothering a grimace as I did. After this conversation and the one I’d had with Ren, I’d need to rest again soon. Rhylix may have fixed the injury I’d gained near Qena, but I was most definitely still recovering from it, considering how tired such a simple motion had made me.

“You mentioned something about severing ties with… him,” I said, barely remembering to replace the words ‘that bastard’ with something more neutral in time. “Do you want any help with that?”

Kylorian’s mouth flapped open. He tried to speak, squeaked, and cleared his throat. On his second attempt to speak, he managed a single word.

“Help?”

I nodded.

“I’m about to become king, right? If people insist on giving me so much power, I might as well use it for something good,” I said. “I could place a sanction on Tanwadur, make it so he can’t legally be near you. Or something like that. Anything you think might help. But only if you want it. It’s your decision how much you want me involved, if at all.”

“I do. Want your help.”

Kylorian paused, as if shocked that he’d really said that and so quickly too.

“I just don’t know…”

He trailed off, narrowing his eyes. I wanted to rush forward with more suggestions, but Nylion shushed me, flapping a hand practically in my face.

“Let him think.”

So, I did, and after a moment, Kylorian took a breath with a sharp nod.

“I want you to tell him your plan for us. That I’ll be working for you, which means I’ll need to live in the capital. That I can’t be disturbed by any calls for help at home that he might try to make,” he said, “and that you won’t change your mind about any of it.”

I saw the worry in his last statement and made my mouth, whose corners wanted to twitch into a smile, stay flat.

“I won’t be changing my mind, not any time soon at least,” I reassured him, “and that’s an easy enough task for me to complete. Is there anything else I should keep in mind while speaking with him?”

Almost immediately, Kylorian was earnestly nodding while leaning forward in his chair.

“You can’t let him know that I told you about my first meeting with him,” he said. “Tanwadur would see that as a threat, both from you and from me, and while I can hold my own with him and I’m sure you could too, I don’t want to cause you more trouble than I must.”

With a snort, Nylion said, “Please. This will not be any trouble. I only wish we could ruin Tanwadur as much as I might like, now that we know exactly how much of a piece of filth he is. But that might upset Kylorian, which I know you would not like.”

I let a smile crawl onto my face this time, making sure that my other half knew it was for him.

“It’s good of you to think of my wellbeing like that, but you don’t need-”

“And Ren too, I suppose,” Nylion interrupted with a contemplative look on his face. “Anything that happened to her adoptive father would upset her too.”

I clicked my teeth together so hard that I was worried about whether I’d chipped one. Ren… As if I needed another complication in that part of my life.

With a barely contained wince, I asked, “Does… Ren-?”

Kylorian’s curt headshake cut me off as effectively as Nylion had just done.

“She knows he brought me home after… intervening with my original caretakers,” he said, “but she doesn’t know the full extent of our father’s misdeeds against me. No one does.”

That made me wryly grin. I was glad I wasn’t in love with someone who could ignore something as awful as what Tanwadur had done.

“Except me,” I said. “Now, I know everything.”

Kylorian paused, eyeing me.

“Yes…” he slowly said. “You… do.”

Gods, he looked uncomfortable. Time to change the subject.

“I’ll get started with this right away. Best not to have it hanging over your head any longer than we must, right?” I said. “Unless there’s something else we should discuss first?”

“No,” Kylorian rushed to say.

As if once again started by his own abruptness, he paused before clearing his throat.

“No. Thank you,” he repeated. “We’ve addressed everything I came here to speak about.”

“In that case…”

I turned toward the nearby closed door before raising my voice.

“Dath? Could you come in here, please?”

As usual, my old friend from Ada’ir had accompanied Kaedesa on her journey across the Narrow Sea, and as always when that happened, the queen had dismissed him from his guard duties once they’d arrived. Inevitably, he’d found his way to my bedside after I’d returned from Qena, like he had done on every visit here. 

It annoyed me slightly that this time around, he’d convinced Oswin that he could act as my bodyguard while Auden’s spymaster handled a few last-minute security precautions for the coming investiture. Ring, Pointer, and Thumb were busy in greater Auden, although they were due back before the ceremony, and I’d seen neither hide nor hair of Little since he and Oswin had had their altercation yesterday.

Which left Oswin busy enough to allow a former enemy-turned-friend to take his place.

I’d wanted to spend time catching up with Dath, not enduring enforced rest while under his watchful eye, but I hadn’t been given much choice in the matter.

Oh, well.

Leaning into the room, Dath raised an eyebrow at me.

“You need something, invalid?” he drawled.

Which only made me roll my eyes. He’d been giving me so much crap about what had happened beside Qena’s tear, going on and on about how one of Rhylix’s students should never have been caught unaware like I had. He’d cited his long list of accomplishments since leaving our mutual friend’s tutelage in Ada’ir as proof of how much I’d been ‘lazing away’ with my training.

Not that I minded his teasing. Much.

“Could you please send a runner into the city?” I asked him. “I need to speak with Tanwadur, the… guiding influence of Tiro.”

Damn, that self-professed title seemed even more pretentious and annoying, now that I knew the man’s true nature.

“I believe he arrived in Daira early last week,” I continued. “He’s staying at one of the inns closest to the palace.”

Dath tossed a casual salute my way.

“Sure thing, Raimie.”

As he closed the door, I caught Kylorian’s confused look and snorted back a laugh.

“He’s an old friend from Daira. That’s why he was so informal,” I said. “Now. Do you want to be here while I talk to your… father?”

Was that still the right word to describe Tanwadur’s role in Kylorian’s life?

Sighing, my friend said, “Yes, I still consider him my father, sad as that is. And no. I’d rather be… elsewhere.”

Nylion watched Kylorian’s rise to his feet with such pained eyes!

“It’s not sad at all,” he whispered, almost to himself.

I ignored him to smile at Kylorian.

“Thank you for stopping by, Ky,” I said. “At some point today, you should go find Eledis too. He mentioned something about offering you a position during the investiture ceremony, but unfortunately, I don’t know which one it could be. I’ve left planning that awful thing in his hands.”

Finally, the barest hint of a real smile flashed across Kylorian’s face.

“We have an appointment to speak about it tomorrow morning, but think you for the reminder,” he said, “and… thank you for everything else. Truly.”

It was my great pleasure to say-

“You’re quite welcome.”

Kylorian dipped into a short bow, which was still startling to see directed at me and especially disconcerting coming from him.

“I’ll take my leave,” he said. “Good luck, Raimie.”

He soon disappeared, and I turned all of my attention on my other half.

“You know how you’ve always wanted revenge for our family’s betrayal?” I said. “I’ve explained why we can’t have that—”

Yet, I silently added.

“—so how do you feel about using Kylorian’s bastard of a father as a replacement for that?”

Slowly, a beautifully vicious grin covered Nylion’s face, and seeing it, I shivered.

“I would love that,” he said.

Chapter 77: Consequences

Kylorian

 

Around the corner and at the end of the hall, I waited with my back pressed into resin-coated obsidian and listened as Tanwadur’s roaring voice echoed from Raimie’s resting place. He hadn’t wasted much time getting here, but I’d still spent every moment of it waiting for him with frayed nerves.

When I’d heard him coming, I’d plastered myself far too closely to the wall, feeling its rough edges dig into my back as I futilely tried to merge with it. It would have been so much easier to walk away, to maybe find Ren in the hope that she would tolerate my presence, but I needed to be here. I needed to know when it was truly over. To ensure Raimie was keeping his word, even if I already knew he would.

Tanwadur’s echoing voice fell silent, turning the hall dangerously quiet. I itched to check on Raimie, making sure my father hadn’t hurt him in his vulnerable state.

Fortunately, the guard, Dath, did that for me. I heard a door creak open.

“Is everything all right in here?” Dath stiffly said.

I had to strain my ears to hear Raimie’s reply.

“Everything is fine. Is that not right, Tanwadur?”

I didn’t bother to hear how my father answered that question, too busy reveling in relief to care. Their conversation seemed finished, and Raimie was safe. I could go. I walked away, surprised by how easy that had been to do.

Was this it? Was I finally free of… him?

“Kylorian!”

Of course, as soon as I’d considered that forbidden thought, he showed up to ruin the beginning of my cautious celebration.

I stopped in place, internally hiding everything inside. Once I’d schooled my face into pleasant neutrality, I turned toward Tanwadur.

He was at the corner I’d just left, which made me wince. I’d gotten pretty far from there—the turn onto another corner was right beside me—but not far enough. Of course I hadn’t. Luck had never been on my side, and I couldn’t expect that to change today, no matter how well it had been going before now.

“Hello, Dury!” I said. “How unexpected to meet you here.”

Perhaps I could conceal the fact that I’d been listening in, of a sort, to his conversation with Raimie.

For a moment, Tanwadur looked uncertain. I could see the remnants of murder, of at least my emotional wellbeing, in his eyes, but it quickly cleared away into a half-smile, as if he’d changed tactics.

“I just heard of your good fortune!” he said in a jolly voice as he strode to join me. “Minister of Public Safety? I knew you had something special in you, my boy!”

And I froze. This was not what I’d expected from Tanwadur so soon after hearing about the death of his dreams for me.

“Thank you,” I carefully said.

Smiling, Tanwadur slapped a hand on my shoulder, which along with his forward momentum, jostled me into a walk at his side.

“Would you get a drink to celebrate with me?” he asked. “I’ve learned how busy you’ll soon be. If I won’t be seeing you for a while, I’d at least like to celebrate your change of prospects with you before we’re apart for so long.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. After speaking with Raimie and acquiring his help, I hadn’t intended to speak with Tanwadur again, not for a long while at least, but I wasn’t sure how to avoid it now. Plus…

Plus. Much as I’d caught the warning glimpse of his anger just now, I couldn’t help hungering for a last moment with him when he was in a good mood. When he actually acted like a father.

And if we were in a public place, he’d have much less of a chance to take off his pleasant, public mask.

“Sure,” I said. “The inn I’m staying at has a decent selection of food and drinks in their kitchen. Why don’t we go there?”

Tanwadur jovially chuckled. 

“That sounds good,” he said. “Lead the way!”

My father fell silent as he followed me to our destination, which put me on edge. Only the distracted smile on his face kept me from muttering an excuse and heading right back into the palace, where he soon wouldn’t be welcome.

When we entered the inn, Tanwadur curiously glanced around before spotting the rather obvious entrance to the dining room. Then, he hustled that way with me trailing him. He got us seats at the bar without my help while one of the inn’s waitstaff hurried to take his order.

She’d already bustled herself to the other end of the bar by the time I’d sat down.

Turning to face me, Tanwadur said, “So. How’ve things been since your last visit to Tiro? The last I’d heard, you were on your way to Sotchal to try gaining the town’s support, and now, you’ve thrown your weight in with the upstart. How did that happen?”

Fortunately, while his expression turned bitter at the mention of Raimie, he still seemed more amused than anything, which was a minor miracle. Because of that and our location, I decided to be truthful with him. Mostly. I still tailored my responses to this and all his subsequent questions so that they wouldn’t greatly upset him.

Sharing the events of my past few months got us through our first round of drinks, and by the time I was nearly done, the alcohol had already made its way through me. With an excuse, I headed for the kitchen’s small privy while Tanwadur ordered us another round.

This was going shockingly well, which both scared and elated me. I kept waiting for Tanwadur’s soft criticism, all the things he could get away with saying in public, to materialize, but… it hadn’t. Tanwadur had politely listened to my tale, asked questions when appropriate, and to this point, had seemed relatively supportive of my choices.

As I headed back to my seat, I tentatively let myself hope that I could end things with my father on a positive note.

He handed me a full mug of brandy when I sat down beside him.

“From what you’ve told me, you did well these last few weeks,” Tanwadur said, “and while I hate that you’ve given up the fight against the upstart, I also understand why you did it. So. I propose a toast.”

He raised his own mug into the air.

“To you. You’ve accomplished less than I’d have liked, but becoming a Minister is still worthy of praise,” he said. “I’m proud to have raised you into the man you’ve become.”

He lowered his mug to his lips, raising an eyebrow when I hesitated to join him. Honestly, the toast he’d begun had sounded more like an ode of praise to him and his… interesting approach of child rearing than anything else.

But the happiness and appreciation on his face seemed genuine, and I really didn’t want that to change.

So, I lifted my drink and took a big gulp of it, grateful that Tanwadur had catered to my tastes today instead of forcing his preferred beverage down my throat. The brandy tasted wonderful, heating my body to its extremities as soon as it had hit my stomach.

Tanwadur watched me the whole time before taking his own sip. Setting his cup down, he lumbered to his feet.

“My turn to relieve my bladder,” he muttered before turning away.

I leaned on the bar top, cupping my drink. How much longer should I stay here before begging off for the night? Staying in Tanwadur’s presence was always a risk, especially when alcohol was involved, and I was, at the least, satisfied with where this last conversation had landed us.

At the same time, if I tried to escape before Tanwadur was done with me, it might provoke one of his temper tantrums.

I should leave now, while he was preoccupied. It wasn’t like he knew which of the rooms in this inn was mine, and I could always lock its door behind me.

I waved for the barkeep’s attention, but as I started getting to my feet, a wave of intense exhaustion swept over me, and I crashed back into my seat, barely steadying myself before I could collapse to the floor.

What… the… fuck? I couldn’t be that drunk! I’d only finished off a shallow mug of brandy, which was nothing compared to the seemingly endless rounds of the past. Besides that, I usually became broody and withdrawn when drunk, not so light that I’d laugh at the slightest of humor, like I felt now.

Whatever. This reaction was unusual, sure, but I couldn’t deny that it felt nice. Why not enjoy it while it lasted? I so rarely felt this…

Tanwadur’s heavy drop into the seat beside me jerked me upright from a slow slump to the wooden counter in front of me. Alouin. Had I been about to nod off? Here? In such a public, unprotected place?

“Are you all right?”

Slowly blinking, I stared at the woman who’d appeared in front of me. What had she just asked? And why did she look so worried?

“Ah, that last drink must have hit him hard. I’d hoped we wouldn’t meet his limit so soon but… oh well. I should get him to his room before he falls asleep.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at… my father. What… was he doing here? Had he found out where I was staying? That was…

Oh no. Right. We’d come here to share a drink.

“And you are?” the woman drawled.

“His father,” Tanwadur said with a half-smile. “I appreciate your concern for my son, truly, but just this once, it isn’t warranted.”

The strange woman suspiciously stared at him for a moment more, which made me want to cringe. Didn’t she know doing that could start problems?

“All right,” she slowly said. “You two have a nice evening.”

She turned to the customers who’d appeared on the other side of me, which made me stare at them. How had they gotten so close without me noticing them? Magic?

“We will! Thank you.”

Someone grabbed my arm, and I barely noticed that it was Tanwadur in time to contain my flinch. Something distinctly unpleasant cascaded through me from head to toe as he flung my arm around his shoulder and pressed a hand to my side, but I swept the feeling aside. I was too tired to indulge it or figure out where it had come from.

We made our way out of the dining room and staggered up the stairs to the inn’s rented rooms. Tanwadur was quiet at my side. He didn’t complain, even when I tripped over my own feet and smooshed him into a wall. He simply propped me back upright and tugged me along, almost insistently.

Then, we were in my room. He tossed me onto the bed and stepped back. I barely felt his eyes on me through my drowsy haze, which felt… wrong. Why did this feel wrong? My danger sense…

Oh, who cared? I was certainly too tired to.

When I woke up, my body was both incredibly relaxed and hurting in a distinctly familiar way. I clenched my eyes more tightly closed and ground my teeth together.

It seemed Tanwadur had decided to gift me with his version of a reward.

“Shit,” I hissed into the tense quiet.

When no one reprimanded me for my less than polite verbiage, I knew I was alone. Thank Alouin.

It took a while, but soon enough, I felt the release of hot tears as they slid sideways over my face. I stayed there for… I didn’t know how long, just feeling. It was so much. Too much.

But I couldn’t shut it down. Not again. Over the years we’d worked together, Ivelais had taught me how much worse avoiding this pain would make me feel in the long run.

I needed to see my friend.

Getting out of bed was a long process of starts and stops. Cleaning myself up was… humiliating. I didn’t think it could be anything else.

I found a set of clothes with the longest and loosest of sleeves and pant legs and tugged them on before leaving the room.

The barkeep from last night was cleaning the dining room when I passed its entrance, presumably finishing her shift. She took one look at my stiff and wobbly gait before jerking away with her shoulders rising to her ears. I vaguely remembered her concern for my unseemly state last night and knew that now, she knew.

Great. I’d have to avoid her until I found different accommodations.

The shame of that… I couldn’t handle it. I sank into the safety of the fog in my mind, watching with interest as my body automatically followed Ivelais’s signs to their hideout once more.

I stopped in the empty house’s threshold. I didn’t know how long I stayed there, swaying in place with my gaze absently skipping over and then, returning to different parts of my surroundings.

Ivelais found me there. Carefully, they maneuvered into my field of view, and my focus snapped onto them.

Once they’d noticed that, they cautiously asked, “What happened?’

Dutifully, I opened my mouth to answer.

“He…”

My words ran out. Understanding dawned in Ivelais’s eyes. I looked away.

“Ok,” they whispered.

In incremental movements, they took my hand and tugged me inside. We ended up in the room from weeks ago, when we’d last met. When I winced while lowering myself into a chair, Ivelais sucked in a sharp breath, as if she hadn’t expected that.

I couldn’t take it.

“I met with Raimie yesterday. He agreed to help me,” I said. “He met with… him to deliver an ultimatum. I left the palace with… him for a drink. I don’t remember much else of the night. Just snippets.”

“Oh, Kylorian.”


Ivelais had been so gentle and soft with that exclamation. I turned to them, taking in the concern plainly written on their face.

“What do you need?” they asked.

That stopped the beginning of an incipient spiral. The only other people who’d asked me questions like that were my siblings: Hadrion, long gone, and- and Ren. Ren, who always centered me. Ren, who was safety. Ren, who I loved.

“You're in WHAT with your sister?” he roars.

“She’s not-! It isn’t-!” I stutter.

He advances and snatches my arms.

“Not her. Never her,” he growls. “Only I can make you feel that was.”

Fuck. No. No, no, no.

He’d… he’d said that last night. I didn’t- I couldn’t-

“Kylorian?” a much gentler voice asked.

Ivelais. They weren’t her but maybe… And if they were amenable…

“I need to change the narrative,” I said. “I need to take back what he just took. He… he told me…”

Alouin, this was hard to say.


Ivelais reached over the squeeze my hand, which made one corner of my mouth quirk. I didn’t deserve them.

“He said that only he could make me… feel. Certain ways,” I made myself say. “I need to know that he’s wrong. I need to wash away what he did. Something that should have been good.”

I’d thought maybe we could part ways, having found some sort of understanding. I thought that it was over.

Ivelais pulled their hand away. I stopped talking, knowing I’d just made a mess again.

The sound of rustling fabric jerked my head back toward them. Holding my gaze, Ivelais dropped their removed tunic onto the floor.

“I can absolutely help with that,” they said.

I let out a relieved sigh, even as they started crawling onto my lap.

“You’re sure about-?” I started.

They cut me off with a kiss.

“Stop thinking,” they whispered against my lips. “Just feel and do. Erase the crime that your father has committed against you.”

By the void, they were… everything.

I did as they’d said.

Chapter 78: The Investiture

Raimie

 

These damn robes were extraordinarily heavy. After Ring finished smoothing out an unseen crease in their length, she stepped back, wrinkling her nose.

“Are you sure you won’t let me add some color to your cheeks?” she asked.

She'd entered my room a few minutes ago, taken one look at me, and started fidgeting with my clothes and hair, which had made me only a little uncomfortable.

“Let’s see how I look without it first,” I stiffly said.


Ring retrieved a full-length mirror that she’d found gods knew where, rolling it to a stop in front of me, and I examined her work in progress. One look and I understood why people had been treating me like someone who was about to keel over for the last few days.

“We look awful,” Nylion said. “You should have rested a day more in Qena before making the journey here.”

I was eager to get us home, I said.

Grinning, Nylion came up behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder and circling his arms around my waist. It was a disturbing image, what with me completely drained of color and Nylion a grotesque mixture of black, blue, and green. Only our ice blue eyes provided any redeeming qualities to our otherwise matching faces.

“More like you wanted to return to Ren and the conundrum that she has left us with,” Nylion said.

Tilting his head, he kissed my cheek while I glared at him.

“A little color might be called for,” I said. “Not too much, though. It can’t look unnatural.”

“I don’t do unnatural,” Ring huffed, pushing the mirror away. “Sit.”

I was more than happy to comply. Holding my weight on my leg, even for a short time, had dragged on my already flagging supply of energy.

While Ring bent to her work, Nylion stood behind her, making an alarming range of noises from impressed to disgruntled, but before I could get too annoyed with him, Rhylix slipped into the room.

“Wow, look at you,” my friend said. “I can almost believe that I didn’t patch you up two weeks ago.”

“Are you here to scold me again?” I sourly asked.

He’d been doing that a lot since we’d gotten back, and I didn’t want to hear it again.

“No, you’re too stubborn to listen to my advice, so why should I give it?” Rhylix said with a smile. “I’m here to offer my congratulations.”

“What for?” I asked. “I don’t want this.”

Which only made Rhylix smile.

“I’m well aware,” he said, “but that’s why you deserve the congratulations. If you were eager right now, I might be worried for Auden.”

“Would you two stop talking?” Ring snapped. “Fixing this wrecked masterpiece will be difficult enough without my canvas moving.”

I promptly closed my mouth, holding it still despite both Rhylix and Nylion’s many attempts to make me laugh.

“That’s the best I can manage,” Ring eventually sighed. “Hopefully, it’ll do.”

Rhylix moved forward to take a closer look.

“Oh, it’ll do,” he says. “He doesn’t look like he’ll drop dead at the faintest breath of wind now, which is a marked improvement. Considering the before, I’d say your work is nothing short of miraculous, Ring.”

She blushed a deep, cherry red, mumbling her thanks.

“Will you be there to watch your ‘masterpiece’ revealed?” I asked.

I… could use all the support I could get today.

“I won’t be observing people’s reactions to my work, if that’s what you’re asking, sir. I’ll be looking for trouble, the same as the rest of the Hand,” Ring said. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready.”

After she’d left, I sank back into my chair with Nylion sitting on my knee, waiting for the signal that the ceremony was about to begin. Butterflies fluttered in my belly, and I jittered my good leg. To keep my mind off of what was waiting for me, I inspected my friend.

Today, Rhylix claimed the most animated state that I’d seen from him in the last two weeks, which meant Ele must be firmly under his control. Contained energy was making my friend look positively vibrant, which was a nice change from the depleted state that he'd been stumbling in since Qena.

The average person probably wouldn't notice this change, but I did. I wasn’t sure if that was because my friend always let his guard down around me or if I’d grown to know him well enough to read such a tiny distinction.

In the last two years, Rhylix had ranged between exhilarated and exhausted, depending on how much energy Ele provided him on any given day. When my friend seemed to be staggering through a fog, I raged at Ele—Bright had probably gotten sick of that—but on days like today, I positively cheered to see Rhylix returned to the man I’d first met.

Although, honestly, Rhylix looked much more striking today than he had four years ago. He’d neatly pulled his hair into a tail and shaved, dispelling the scruffy air that had accompanied him since Doldimar’s disappearance. In addition, he’d discarded his ratty cloak, tattered by years of travel and combat, and replaced his normally disheveled clothes with a modest tunic and trouser combination. A smart, waist-length jacket went over that, and knee-high boots finished the ensemble.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about how much effort he’d put into his appearance, just because of what we were doing today.

After rapping on the door, a soldier poked her head inside.

“Nearly ready for you, sir,” she said.

Which meant, 'get moving if you plan on shuffling into position on time'.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll be there soon.”

Grunting with effort, I rose from my chair, and without a word, Rhylix was beside me, supporting my arm.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

We slowly headed toward the hall of worship with Rhylix taking the brunt of my weight and Nylion worriedly hovering beside us.

My body was a mess of broken pieces, even two weeks and a half after Qena. Not counting my leg, I had a cracked breastbone and several bruised ribs to deal with. The leg itself always ached, a throb of pain that never quite went away, but the worst of my ailments was the exhaustion.

I’d lost far too much blood with that nicked artery, so much that without Ele’s help, I’d have become a cold corpse before I’d left Qena’s tear. As it was, Ele had assisted with my cling to life, but as with anything magical, it had come with a price. I’d survived, but a long recovery was still ahead of me, not only because of the very real blood loss I’d endured but also because of the interest that Ele had demanded for its use, the price of which extended beyond total exsanguination.

Waving for a break, I leaned both palms against a wall. I fought to stop the uncontrolled wheezing rattling my lungs, vaguely aware of Nylion running a hand through my hair.

“Would you like me to take this from you?” Rhylix softly said. “Ele might allow it today.”

Sharply glancing at my friend, I directed my focus to Bright in truth, standing beside the Eselan.

“He’s overestimating his strength,” the Ele splinter said.

That was about what I’d thought.

“I can handle it, Rhy, but thank you,” I said. “Besides, you said I’ll be fully recovered in, what was it? Another month?”

“Give or take a few weeks,” Rhylix said.

“Well. After we’re done with this ceremony, I don’t plan on doing anything else as physically demanding until I’m healed,” I said. “Town mayors can bring their problems to me, for once.”

“I don’t think you realize how much work your first month as king will pile on you...” Rhylix started.

“I said I’ll deal with it,” I snapped, interrupting him.

Panting, I rested my forehead on my arm for a minute before pushing away from the wall.

“Let’s keep going.”

After what felt like an eternity, the hall of worship appeared ahead of us, and I tugged my arm away from Rhylix, reverting to sole dependence on my crutch for support. The reason for my sudden insistence on self-reliance was leaning against the doors ahead with his arms crossed.

“Kylorian,” I said, nodding to the other man.

“Raimie,” Ren’s adoptive older brother said.

If Rhylix had made a delightful transformation for today’s proceedings, Kylorian’s was stunning, even subtle as it was. Ren’s big brother had always been a handsome man, but in military dress, he exuded appeal. Every crip fold, every gleaming button, and even the shine on his boots multiplied his legitimacy.

“Are you sure you don’t want to trade places?” I asked with a chuckle.

“I am absolutely positive,” Kylorian said, smiling. “Don’t envy you in the slightest.”

We both laughed at that while Rhylix uncomfortably shifted beside us. I knew he wasn’t happy with Kylorian, considering everything I’d shared with my friend about him and Ren, but I’d insisted that since Kylorian hadn't insulted him, Rhylix should let Ren and I handle it how we wanted. So far, he’d respected that wish.

“My friend, I need to get into position,” he said. “Can you handle… this by yourself?”

“Sure!” I chirped. “Ky and I will have a short chat, and then, we’ll join you.”

“And as always, I will watch over him,” Nylion said.

He didn’t seem to care if Rhylix had actually heard him, more needing to say the words. Besides, he knew the Eselan would eventually hear what he had to say. Over the last two weeks, he and Rhylix had been holding a halting and much interrupted conversation.

Unfortunately, because we’d been surrounded by a bunch of supremely overprotective soldiers at the time, Nylion hadn’t been able to come out and speak for himself, so I’d had to translate things, not that I’d minded. I was hoping that sometime soon, the two of them could actually meet, in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would happen. Life had been incredibly busy of late.

Lightly resting a hand on my back, Rhylix said, “Good luck.”

He cracked the door open, leaving me alone with the man who’d been my rival. Who was somehow still my friend. How glad was I for that?

“You ready for this?” I said with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” Kylorian said. “I’m not looking forward to seeing Dury’s face in there.”

Yes. There was that.
“We talked about this,” I said. “I’m happy to help with him as much as you like, even more than I already have, but…”

“I know. It has to be my decision,” Kylorian quickly said.

He looked away with a strange mix of pain and something else written across his face. Was that... shame? He had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to cutting contact with his adoptive father.

But then, Kylorian brightened.

“And I am looking forward to what my life will be like without his dreams for me overshadowing everything I do.”

I could imagine.

“I’m glad you’ll have that opportunity.”

The long-winded speech filtering to us through the crack in the door started winding down, and I gestured toward it.

“Shall we, my soon to be Minister of Public Safety?” I said.

“It would be my pleasure.”

While Kylorian worked on flinging the hall of worship’s heavy doors open, I leaned my crutch against their frame, there for me as soon as this was over. On transferring even a modicum of weight to my bad leg, I almost toppled, which had Nylion reaching to steady me, but after a sip of Ele, the sparks of pain in my vision dulled. The pain transformed into a bone-deep soreness, a discomfort I could manage.

Following Kylorian, I began my march to the apse. With an expression of tranquility affixed to my face, I forced my lips into a serene smile to complete the illusion.

That smile became more genuine as I walked down the aisle. To either side sat town mayors and throngs of ordinary citizens, maids from the palace and average Eliskians allowed to attend the ceremony at my insistence. I knew my Hand was mingling with them, but they were blending in so well that I couldn’t pick them out of the crowd.

Toward the front, military commanders and foreign dignitaries had claimed their seats, and among them, several familiar faces stood out. Gistrick was frowning at me, infecting the guests in his immediate vicinity with his displeasure, but Uncle… Commander Marcuset practically beamed with pride at me. The Matvai's Vasnavai had shown up as well, despite her refusing to answer our invitation earlier this month.

I spied Ren’s black hair near her adoptive father, and my spirit lifted, even if she was resolutely facing away from me. Almost immediately after recognizing her, however, I noted Auntie Kaedesa in the same seat on the opposite side of the aisle with her Minister of Finance, Pierdriel beside her, and my delight wavered. Fortunately, Dath was sitting a little behind them both,  furiously waving at me, and that almost had me laughing out loud.

For the briefest of moments, I wished my father was here with everyone else. No matter that I’d never wanted it, this ceremony was one of the most significant events in my life, and having no parents here to watch it tugged on my heart a little. Then, Nylion raced ahead to get into position, and I remembered why my father was no longer a part of my life.

Putting him out of my mind, I focused on my destination. Eledis was waiting at the head of the aisle, restlessly fidgeting. When our eyes met, he smiled, but I could see the strain behind his pleasant expression.

Oswin stood to the left and slightly behind Eledis, one of the two visible members of my honor guard, and if there was one thing I was certain of about with this ceremony, it was that the spymaster deserved that spot. How long had he been trailing me, never expecting to be remembered in full, before the spell that had constrained my mind had broken and our friendship could truly resume from its long pause? How often had the spy served as my shield? If anyone could stand for me today, it was Oswin.

Meanwhile, Kylorian had positioned himself beside and behind my old friend. His spot in the honor guard had been both a personal and professional concession on my part. I wasn’t sure if we were close enough for me to want him up there, but I did know that our previous rivalry had given the appearance of an unstable government to the Audish populace. Now, we were showing them that we two members of the Audish royal family were united in purpose and resolve, and that was important.

The final member of my honor guard wiped away any uncertainties I might have about Kylorian’s position. Nylion was hovering with the other two, invisible but supportive in every way. As I approached, my other half beamed at me before pulling an incredibly hilarious face, which forced me to focus on maintaining my composure instead of laughing.

I’d wanted Rhylix up there as well, but he’d begged off, asking for another job. I understood stage shyness—the only reason I wasn’t trembling from that right now was because of my shrieking leg—so I’d easily rescinded the request. As long as he was somewhere nearby, I didn’t care what role Rhylix played in this ceremony.

I stopped short of the single stair that led onto the apse. Ceasing with his fidgeting, Eledis spread his arms.

“Today is one for the history books,” he said in a booming voice, “for today, the rightful king of Auden takes his place on the throne. Gone are the days of oppression, the centuries where a shadow veiled this land. Today, we move forward into a new age, one of peace and prosperity.”

At the reference to the foretelling, I rolled my eyes. Perhaps my grandfather was hoping to convince the people that today’s proceedings would fulfill the damn thing, but I knew that wasn’t what was happening. Somewhere beyond these walls, Doldimar still befouled the earth with his presence, and the foretelling wouldn’t be completed until he was gone.

Some of those in the audience must have agreed with my silent conclusions because a round of polite coughs followed Eledis’ speech, but he hadn’t finished with his theatrics.

“Kneel,” he said with a smirk.

We... hadn't talked about this. Eledis knew that right now, I could hardly walk, much less kneel, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get up once I was on my knees, not without help at least. What was he trying to pull?

Still, it wasn’t like I could protest, considering the circumstances, so instead of thinking about the process, I concentrated on each step.

Place my bad knee to the ground first so it bore less weight when the other-

AGHH!

Wobbling, I nearly blacked-out before my good knee joined the bad on the stone floor. I took a deep breath, waiting for the pain to fade, before baring my teeth at Eledis in challenge, and he nodded his approval. Was that all this was? A test of strength?

But what else could Eledis have gained from it?

Beginning with the vows, he said, “Do you swear to serve Auden’s children, from the most common of serfs to the highest of nobles?”

Modifying the old vows to reflect modern times had been Eledis’ idea. While Doldimar had been in power, the worship of Alouin had struggled. Few had favored the idea of a benevolent god when their lives had been living hell, and so, Eledis had thought it best to drop any mention of him from what I would swear.

After my last encounter with Alouin, I’d heartily endorsed that change, having no desire to swear my service to a possibly unstable being. Plus, removing Alouin from the first vow was sure to please the Matvai’s leader. There was no need to remind her of the religion that had suppressed her own people’s beliefs for generations.

So, it was with a clear conscience that I said, “I so swear.”

“Do you swear to protect Auden from enemies within and without, using all available resources up to and including your own life?” Eledis continued.

This one was easy.

“I so swear,” I said with a grin.

As Eledis spat the words of the last vow, his face twisted.

“Do you swear to foster an environment of equality and understanding, always considering the view from both sides of an argument?”

This one had come at my insistence. Humanity insisted that life was made up of black and white—Ele and Daevetch—and its various people contended that those who weren’t on their side of the line were the definition of evil. Very few of us stopped to consider the maybe the world was made up of mostly grays.

Take primeancy for example. Most people considered Ele to be good, but what happened when one wrapped that primal force so tightly around oneself that only rigidity and inflexibility remain? Once trapped within a prison absent adaptability or change, only a slow death could await such a captive.

Conversely, Daevetch was named evil, but sometimes, aspects of it were required for life to advance. What came after the Destruction of a forest fire? An explosion of plant life, sprouting from the ashes. What accompanied the Horror of personal tragedy? In most cases, personal growth.

Maybe it was because I wielded power from both sides of the Eternal War, but I was tired of being one of the few people who could see the benefits of both. I’d make it my life’s work to found a new type of kingdom, one where everyone belonged and it didn’t matter if one was Eselan or human, an Ele or Daevetch primeancer. Everyone would be welcome in Auden.

Perhaps, however, my people weren’t ready for my vision because behind me, vicious coughing erupted. Ignoring it, I squarely met Eledis’ eyes.

“I so swear,” I said.

Through gritted teeth, Eledis said, “Rise.”

Ok. Climbing to my feet didn’t need to be as daunting as it seemed right now. If I objectively examined the problem, I was sure I could figure out a solution.

I glanced at my hands, one of which was hanging beside my glowing leg. Would using them be a display of weakness….?

Oh. Duh.

Shooting Ele from my knees, I rocked onto my heels, wheeling my hands to keep from toppling. When my feet flattened, however, I relaxed, viciously smirking at Eledis.

My feat must have flustered the old man because he skipped the explanation of Shadowsteal’s significance in Auden, merely gesturing for it. Rhylix came forward with a cloth-covered bundle cradled in his arm, and as he approached, he winked at me, softly applauding beneath his burden.

Flipping cloth to the side, Eledis withdrew the sword that had started our long journey, impatiently offering it to me, and I licked my lips.

“Here goes,” I murmured to myself.

Chapter 79: Disaster

Raimie

 

When I accepted Shadowsteal’s offered grip, the world crawled to a stand-still, which I’d half-expected. Everything else, I had not. 

Ele suffused the hall of worship—in the walls, the floor, the air—and I could see every speck of it. Scattered splotches of it brightened and gathered until they drifted toward me, and I gratefully accepted them, letting their energy buzz through my veins until everything wrong with me fell away. A drumming beat thrummed alongside this energy, and rolling my neck, I took a moment to enjoy this glorious sensation. Peace and a humming pulse drowned out my consciousness, but after a moment of thoughtless floating, I struggled to find the surface, intent on discovering how else Shadowsteal had altered my world this time.

Eledis, Oswin, and Kylorian were shining brighter than the hall of worship’s background with each of them caught halfway through a breath. Oswin’s proud look of triumph was spreading across his face at a snail’s pace with Eledis’ disquiet joining it. The three stood as glowing statues, moving much like I imagined stone would, if it could.

In front of them, Rhylix was a blazing beacon of white light, and I shielded my eyes to keep from going blind. Beside their Eselan, Creation watched me with foreboding, although no light emerged from the splinter. They were merely Rhylix’s twin.

Meanwhile, Bright clapped and giggled at my side, hopping in place, and a stain upon the world was standing with the Ele splinter. Its uncertain grin was barely visible through the swirl of wrongness that made up its face.

I restrained myself from twitching the blade toward it. Yes, that was the enemy, but it was also Dim, and while I held this weapon, I wouldn’t let Shadowsteal destroy my Daevetch splinter. Piecing Bright together after their destruction had been enough of a pain in the ass. I didn’t want to do the same for Dim, not when I could avoid breaking them in the first place.

But out of all the world’s changes, only one sent my heart soaring into my throat with panic soaking through my mind.

Nylion had disappeared.

Frozen in place, I could only stare at where my other half had been standing with questions flying through my head. Was Nylion gone? Had I lost my other half again?

Because I couldn’t do it. Not a second time. Not after everything we’d become over the last four weeks. I COULDN’T.

When reassurance and calm zinged down our bond—Nylion doing what he could to communicate with me, I assumed—I ever so slowly relaxed from a tautness that scared me. He was still there. Everything was ok. I needed to breathe.

And focus elsewhere.

Behind me, a song of voices raised in joyous cries started up, and I turned to accept those cheers. A collection of white candles made up the crowd with each of them glowing at varying degrees of brightness. Most matched Oswin and Eledis, but one of them near the back overshadowed the others, someone who had an Ele splinter hovering behind her, and I jumped at the sight. An Ele primeancer, here?
Had that woman’s splinter told her what might occur when I touched Shadowsteal? If they hadn’t…

My grip on the sword slackened, to the point that it almost clattered to the ground. How much of an invasion of privacy had I imposed on that woman? 

Despite this violation, I couldn’t stop fascination from stealing my focus. If I could see concealed splinters while holding Shadowsteal, maybe this inconvenient weapon could be useful after all.

And that moment of contemplation was when I saw it: thick smoke cloying along the underside of the roof. The sight of this didn’t fit the investiture’s scene, not with gas lamps and candles lighting the hall of worship. They shouldn’t produce as much smoke as what was floating above me. So, what was?

When I traced it back to its origination, I found it coming from the windows, and with Ele singing inside, I danced forward to investigate. Energy’s beat pulsed so loudly in me that I worried it would rip through my skin, breaking the barrier to the physical plane that was me, and gleefully vibrate the world to bits with its newfound freedom.

“Silly human!” Bright said. “It could never do that.”

When they manically cackled, I cringed at the uncontrolled exhilaration found in the voice of a primal force’s fragment. What disaster could come from Bright’s unusually agitated glee?

On the fringes of my vision, a stain upon the world said, “Ignore them. They can’t cause much damage all by their lonesome.”

I took Dim’s suggestion to heart, having made it to the closest window. Behind me, the crowd caught up with my sudden movement, shouting a measure of surprise and delight to contrast  my dismay.

For outside, someone had built a string of bonfires along the hall of worship’s walls with each of them placed beneath a window.

With Ele’s beat forgotten, I sprinted to the door at the back of the hall, trying to open them in vain. I’d already thought a barricade would be blocking them, but I’d hoped…

Hope would get these people killed.

The audience was gradually getting to its feet, twisting to face me. Their new king. The one who’d vowed to protect them.

Blocked door. Ridiculously narrow windows, obstructed by fire. Walls built to repel invaders. Had the architects of this place not considered that this precious edifice, dedicated to Alouin, might be burned down?

One good point. We’d die of smoke inhalation before the flames reached us.

“Oh, gods. What do I do?” I whispered.

“Perhaps you could blast the doors off of their hinges?” the stain beside me said. “Who knows what type of barricade lies on the other side, though? If it’s made up of my whole, the bits of it that you throw could bounce back, hitting others, before clearing a path. Maybe… You could shade meld outside!”

“I won’t leave these people behind,” I growled.

How could they even think I’d-?

Rolling their eyes, the stain said, “Raimie. I wasn’t suggesting anything like that. Shade meld into the hall and break the barricade there, so they can escape.”

I could hear Dim’s added ‘stupid’, even if the word was left unspoken.

“That could work,” I said. “Thanks, Dim.”

Without panic making me desperate, the peace inside took control once more, but when I reached for my Daevetch source to start the plan, I couldn’t find it.

“Oh my me, really? You can’t use me until you put that away,” the stain said, pointing at Shadowsteal. “Touching it makes you one with the enemy whole, and it cannot abide you using my whole, not when it wants you to destroy me.”

Oh. Well, the ‘being one with the whole’ thing certainly explained a lot. Like why I could see Ele everywhere and in everything.

Thank Alouin that I’d worn my typical clothing, including my weapons belt and accompanying blades, under these ridiculous robes. I’d had a feeling I’d need to be armed over the course of my final efforts to free my new subjects.

Shrugging a useless garment to the floor, I drew Silverblade with my free hand, replacing it with Shadowsteal on my hip.

As soon as I’d release that sword’s grip, the world resumed its normal pace with confused cries and my leg’s howling pain enthusiastically greeting me. I slapped my free hand to one ear, hoping to block the babble, because it wasn’t helping with my search for my Daevetch source.

Of course, at that moment, the hall of worship’s windows shattered, making way for a storm of bottles filled with liquid fire. Bursting on impact, they ignited everything they touched, including members of the audience. Just like that, their bemused confusion flipped to fear, and like a mindless herd, the crowd stampeded toward the doors.

I sprayed an Ele wave in front of the leading line, subtracting from the store of it that Shadowsteal had drawn to my body. Seeing that, the crush of people slowed down long enough to listen to me, although I wasn’t sure how long they’d hold still with the agonized shrieks filling the air around them.

“Something’s blocked the door,” I shouted. “I need everyone to stay calm while I-”

A wail cut me off, probably because of what I’d said, which had just…

“Oh, well done, you,” Dim said with sarcasm dripping from them.

Exactly what I’d been thinking but I couldn’t snap a reply at them when several people had started rushing forward to try the doors, despite what I’d said. At the windows, others were frantically trying to squeeze through those small openings, although these people only retreated with glass-lacerated hands. In their blind dismay, a portion of the rest started hacking at the walls, occasionally wounding others with their wild swings.

Hell. Panic turned humans fucking crazy. How did I always forget about this?

“It’s his fault!” someone shouted. “Get him!”

How was it my….? Focus.

Thankfully, no one in the crowd seemed to have the courage or desire to attack a newly appointed monarch, much less one who was a primeancer, but they were plenty willing to do the same to my friends, family, and allies. My leg kept me pinned in place while Uncle Marcuset and Gistrick stood back-to-back against a rush of frenzied adversaries, Oswin and the Hand fought to reach me, and the Ada’ir delegation—including Dath, to my surprise—arrayed itself in a defensive position in a corner. Tanwadur disappeared beneath a swell of bodies.

And all around, the flames spread, as if fueled by this violence.

I scrambled for Daevetch so I could give these reckless, angry people a source of release, but from the corner of my eye, I caught Ren retreating from a group of crazed Eliskians, and any control I might have clung to was dashed to pieces. Without conscious thoughts, I was across the hall and carving through those who meant to do her harm. Wrapping her in my arms, I dove into the shadows.

Something new accompanied me as my scattered being floated between the world’s cracks. The strewn creature that I’d become gravitated toward its warmth, even while images flashed.

A frozen wasteland littered with black boxes. It was comforting. A desert oasis in the middle of a densely whirling cloud of sand. Completing. A village beneath a gaping wound in the sky. Encompassing. A black hallway with a sheet of shadows where doors should be. Thrilling.

No. Stop. That was our exit. Let us go.

The shadows spat me from their embrace this time, displeased by the taste of my guest.

The one who was shivering in my arms.

“What was that?” Ren whispered with her voice worn to a scratchy rasp. “Alouin, what was that, Raimie?”

I gently pressed a finger to her lips. Questions could wait. The people trapped in the hall of worship couldn’t.

Calling to the Daevetch barring the doors, I returned it in a blast that splintered their thick wood into slivers.

“Out, out, out!” I shouted.

A trickle of people stumbled out of the hall, coughing up a storm. They blearily paused in the threshold, as if unsure of where they should go, while the frantic crowd they were blocking threatened to bowl them over.

“This way!” I called.

As best I could with my limp, I led them to the closest exit, and they spilled outside, gratefully blinking at dazzling sunlight. The obsidian-cast palace shouldn’t catch fire like the hall of worship, but with the crowd outside, none of them would again be caught in flames, should the worst happen.

Already, guards were approaching the commotion. Once they figured out what was going on, they’d see the palace evacuated until the fire was extinguished.

Looking back, I wasn’t sure if anything could be preserved of the hall of worship. Fire licked along its walls, having already begun its feast on the roof, and given that, it wouldn’t take long for the structure to collapse on itself. The bonfires I’d spotted before have done their job.

Speaking of those bonfires, who’d planned this? Because it had clearly been planned. Fires didn’t start themselves, and the exit hadn’t been barred by happenstance.

Now that Doldimar had gone into hiding, few enemies threatened me. His Enforcers and Kiraak had vanished alongside their master, taking their danger with them, and almost no one else hated me or Auden enough to try something like this. Only the Dark Lord stood out as a potential suspect.

So, had this fire been his move? An attempt to kill everyone who opposed him in one fell swoop? If so, it had been ill-advised. Doldimar knew I could control Daevetch. He should also have known that said control would let me escape…

My thoughts came to a screeching stop. Behind the palace guards, a woman was strolling away from the drama with her hands in her pockets. By itself, her calm departure from the scene of this crime wouldn’t have raised my suspicions, but a hard Daevetch kernel was traveling with her, and that was fishy.

Without a word, I followed her as fast as my bad leg would allow.

Chapter 80: A Shockingly Easy Resolution

Raimie

 

I’d almost caught up when the stranger stopped, slumping.

“I wondered if you’d detect me,” she said.

Nope. Not going to comment on that one.

“Who are you?” I snapped. “Did you set the fires?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Turning, the stranger revealed a smirk set below two, black eyes.

“My Kiraak, on the other hand, are definitely to blame.”

“So, this destruction is of Doldimar’s making,” I said. “What’s he playing at? He must know that a trap like this wouldn’t ensnare Rhylix or me.”

With a mocking bow, the Enforcer said, “Merely another gift, King Raimie. He hopes you’ll sleep well, knowing how simple it would be to reach you.”

I took a step forward with my hands balled into fists.

“You can tell Doldimar that I’m sick of his ‘gifts’ when next you see him.”

“When I see him? Are you planning on letting me go? Alive?” the Enforcer said with her eyebrows soaring. “That seems… unwise.”

With a shrug, I said, “I need you to deliver my message. I don’t know of any other way I can communicate my utter loathing to him, so you’ll go free. I can’t, however, let you leave the way you are right now. You’re too useful of a tool in Doldimar’s hand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the Enforcer asked with an amused smile.

“You’ll see.”

Shadowsteal works like Lighteater, yes? I asked my splinters.

“Correct,” Bright said. “It’s similar but opposite to Lighteater.”

Then, Dim? I need you to step back. We wouldn’t want you caught up in what’s coming next, would we?

With a heavy sigh, Dim said, “No, we wouldn’t.”

After dropping Silverblade, I drew Shadowsteal, freezing the world around me, and lazily strolled until I was almost nose-to-nose with the Enforcer. Searching those black eyes, I found no trace of humanity in her, only an empty husk that had been hollowed out by Doldimar and filled with Daevetch.

At her side, a stain on the world that I had no claim on silently watched me.

“Which aspect are you?” I asked it.

“The one that will destroy you,” it said.

Wow… smug bastard, huh?

From far behind, my own stain said, “That’s a piece of Death, Raimie.”

But they hadn’t sounded… happy. If anything, I’d heard resignation and despair in their tone, which… what? Had I somehow offended them?

I couldn’t deal with that now.

“Thank you, Dim,” I shouted. “Again.”

Hopefully, that would keep them at least moderately satisfied.

With a sniff, Death said, “I don’t understand the fuss about you. You’re infinitesimally insignificant. I’ll never know why your Chaos piece insists that you can right the disbalance in our war, just as I can’t comprehend why the whole would want a return to that equilibrium. We’re close to winning! Why would we want you and your weakness to force a retreat from total victory?”

That was… interesting. I wished I could ask about what this stain had said, but I wasn’t sure what it could do to me, even without its human to serve as a bridge. To be safe, I should quickly finish this.

“Thank you for your opinions, Death,” I said. “I truly wish I could change what must come next. I’m sorry.”

“What-?”

I stabbed the stain, and it had an instant to gasp before it exploded into dark shards that quickly faded to nothing. A shockwave cascaded from Shadowsteal’s point, down the blade, and up my arm, leaving it tingling, but more importantly, a choked gasp burst into the Ele-slowed world from far behind me.

Oh. That was why Dim had been upset.

“I am so sorry, Dim. I didn’t think…”

Gods. I’d known Shadowsteal would destroy the Death splinter, but I hadn’t considered what it would mean. What had the loss of that piece of their whole done to Dim?

I refused to face them, couldn’t stand to view my action’s consequences right now.

“You… you…” they croaked. “I knew you’d do it, but I still hoped…”

“Me too,” I said under my breath.

Behind me, I could hear their teeth chattering while skin roughly chafed against skin.

“Oh, mine old enemy,” Bright said. “I wish I could say I’m sorry, but all I can give you is my sympathy.”

“Just… return to what you were doing before. Please,” the stain moaned.

Fucking hell, the grief and pain in Dim’s voice…

Trying to ignore the dirty feeling crusting my skin, I marched back to my starting point before sheathing Shadowsteal. As the world sped back up, the Enforcer pushed her hand forward, as if to throw something, and when nothing happened, she drew it to her chest with a crinkled face. After a moment, color drained from it.

“What have you done?” she asked.

“Defanged you,” I said. “Get out of here. Go home. If you’re lucky, Doldimar will fix you.”

Stumbling backward, the Enforcer ran away, and while I watched her grow steadily smaller, I systematically packed my disgust for what I’d done into a little box. A swell of well-being wiped the remnants from my mind.

“Nicely done,” Nylion said.

Never once mentioning what he must have felt coming across our bond, he joined me in my observation with his arms crossed, careful not to touch me.

Thanks, I haltingly replied. I thought she’d attack before I could draw Shadowsteal. If she had, our odds against her wouldn’t have been high, considering my injury.

“Sometimes, we get lucky,” my other half said.

Amplified by Nylion’s reciprocating emotions, such a strong surge of relief rolled through me that I almost fell. I needed my crutch.

“Oswin, I’m going to assume you’re lurking nearby,” I said.

“You’d assume correctly,” Oswin said.

Strolling to my elbow, he handed off my crutch without a word, and I gratefully accepted it, releasing the Ele that I’d been using to keep pain at bay.

“Two things,” I said with a wince. “First, I need someone to tail that Enforcer. She might lead us to Doldimar.”

“Already done. I’m sure Little will enjoy the challenge, and he’s been eager to please since Qena,” Oswin said. “Maybe we’ll get results from him this time.”

“Good thinking,” I said. “Little does like his challenges.”

After a brief pause, Oswin turned to me.

“And the second thing?” he asked.

I rounded on the spymaster, my oldest friend. Given our history, scolding him might be difficult.

“You know that he would rather if you spoke up about it,” Nylion said. “If you let it go, he probably will not say a word, and it will hang over you both.”

I know, I said. It’s still difficult. But you know that.

At Nylion’s half-smile, warmth and comfort flowed to me, and I took a deep breath.

“We should discuss how an Enforcer entered the palace grounds without your knowledge, Oswin,” I said. “That’s a serious breach of security.”

As Oswin’s shoulders slumped, he suddenly found his boots fascinating.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, Raimie. Maybe it’s time I-”

“So this is where you ran off to!”

I needed to blink a few times; I’d been so thrown by Auntie Kaedesa’s appearance. Not even a fire and attack by mob could ruffle the queen’s calm, apparently, and somehow, she’d emerged from that disaster with perfect poise and not a hair out of place.

“We need to talk,” she said. “Alone.”

Great… I’d much rather head back to my gathered guests, seeing what I could do to help and otherwise dealing with the giant disaster that had happened, but considering the look on Kaedesa’s face, that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

“I’ll get rid of mine if you get rid of yours,” I said, pointing at Pierdriel behind her.

Glancing back at him, Kaedesa paused in thought.

“They can keep one another company again,” she soon pronounced.

“Oh, no,” Oswin breathed beside me. “Raimie, please!”

Impishly grinning, I said, “A fantastic idea, Your Majesty.”

Oswin looked like he’d faint as Kaedesa and I abandoned him with Ada’ir’s Minister of Finance. We strolled along the cliffside with an uneasy quiet between us.

“So… that was a travesty,” I eventually said. “Are you hurt, Your Majesty?”

“I told you to call me by name,” Kaedesa said.

“Sorry.”

Gods, I hated using her name, though. It would be like if my mother had asked me to call her Samantha, absolutely shudder-inducing.

“Kaedesa, are you all right?” I said anyway.

She tightened her lips before veering from our course, making for the edge of the cliff. Once there, she dropped to the ground with her skirts poofing around her and her legs left dangling.

“Join me,” she said, patting the stone beside her.

I took my time with settling beside the queen. Beneath our feet, an abandoned neighborhood was spread. A short drop was all that stood between me and it, and the irrational desire to fall into its depths lured me to the edge. I shuffled closer, only stopping when another inch would send me plummeting.

Meanwhile, Nylion dangled even further with his plunge to the earth certain, if he were truly here.

Are you trying to remind me that I’ll never get to touch you in the waking world? I asked.

Glancing at me, Nylion smirked before tumbling over the edge to hang from the cliff by his hands.

“If I was in the waking world, I doubt that our bond would exist,” he said. “I think the loss of a body is worth if it means that I am you and you are me and we are we. Do you not?”

Oh, I wouldn’t give up our bond for anything, I said. Can’t help wanting to have it all, though.

Laughing, Nylion hauled himself back on top of the cliff, leaning into me, and with a palm covering my hand, he swung his legs into thin air. Gods, my other half amazed me, so happy even when trapped in our mind. He was so resilient and far too positive, given his circumstances, and I was lucky to have him, no matter what he might be. I… I thought I lo-

“Let’s talk about the wedding,” Kaedesa said.

Jerking toward her, I almost tipped over the cliff’s edge, clinging to stone to keep from falling. Once my heart stopped feeling as if it would tear itself out of my chest, I processed what Kaedesa had said and winced. Gods, but she was impatient.

“I’d like time to heal, if you don’t mind,” I said. “A month? Maybe two and we’ll be wed.”

Chuckling, Kaedesa threw a hand at me.

“See? That. That’s what I want to discuss,” she said. “Please, Raimie. Tell me why you’re stalling.”

Sharply, I returned my attention to the neighborhood below us and to Nylion, at the corner of my eye.

“I’m not trying to postpone this,” I said. “Circumstances simply…”

Placing her hand on my cheek, Kaedesa gently turned me toward her.

“Raimie. Why don’t you want to marry me?” she asked. “The truth this time.”

She forced me to meet her eyes, unwavering in her resolve, and trapped like this, I couldn’t lie. She’d recognize a mistruth in an instant.

And didn’t she deserve the truth? If we were to spend our lives together, our relationship shouldn’t be built on a lie.

“I’m in love with someone else,” I said.

And I wondered at the jumble of confused emotions that came from saying that.

Surprisingly, Kaedesa merely nodded, releasing her hold on my face.

“I thought as much,” she said. “It’s the half-Eselan girl, isn’t it? We were in life-threatening danger back there, and you went straight for her.”

Swallowing, I clenched my hands together with their bones painfully grinding against one another. Yes, I’d meant Ren but also- also-
I couldn’t think about that right now.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve tried to forget her, truly, but nothing’s worked. When she’s not there, an empty void nags at me, but as soon as she steps into the room, it’s as if lightning has struck. Suddenly I’m drunk on life.”

Hearing those words emerge, I winced. That last description probably hadn’t been necessary, only making my confession to Kaedesa worse.

“Yes, not the smartest thing to tell her,” Nylion said.

You’re not helping, I grumbled.

But he smiled, and I didn’t care anymore.

Kaedesa flopped onto her back, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

“The heart wants what it wants, Raimie,” she said. “Our brain may rail at that weak, fleshy thing as much as it wishes, but doing so won’t change what you desire. Trust me. I know from personal experience.”

“How do we do this marriage, then?” I asked, pointing between us.

Lowering her arm, Kaedesa draped it over her face.

“We… don’t,” she said with a sigh. “Wedding’s canceled, Raimie. I won’t force you into a loveless marriage, and if I’m being honest, something about the arrangement has never sat right with me. But I proposed it anyway, and look where it’s gotten me.”

In a blink, Nylion was on his hands and knees on the other side of her, looking up at me with panic in his eyes.

“You cannot let Auntie cancel,” he growled.

You think I don’t know that? 

“Kaedesa… I need this marriage,” I said. “No, that’s not right. Auden needs this marriage. We haven’t recovered from what Doldimar has done to us, and honestly, Ada’ir’s support is all that’s keeping us afloat right now.”

Peering out from under her elbow, Kaedesa laughed at the look on my face.

“I’m not suggesting we end the alliance, merely the marriage,” she said. “Oh! And if you’ll occasionally allow me to serve in an advisory manner, I’d be eternally grateful.”

…What?

“What?” Nylion echoed.

“Why would you continue to offer us support?” I sputtered. “What advantage does that gain you?”

Kaedesa shot upright, glaring at me.

“I can’t do it because it’s what I want?” she snapped. “I like you, Raimie, and while I haven’t figured out how, I know we were close in the past. I want to help you. Plus!”

Grumpily, she crossed her arms.

“Helping you will give me an excuse to escape my pestering nobles and ministers.”

“And the real reason comes out!” I said with a laugh.

Thank Alouin she’d given me a way to evade our shared past. This conversation had been awkward enough without revealing that at one point, she’d literally acted as my aunt.

“Oh, hush,” she said, swatting my arm.

Seizing her hand before she could retract it, I said, “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

“You keep your heart for the half-Eselan girl. I’ll keep the gratitude,” Kaedesa said, smirking. “Good luck juggling her heritage with Auden’s prejudices, by the way.”

I leaned over the cliff’s edge. The empty neighborhood below was like a miniature playset beneath my feet, and if I squinted hard enough, I could see two-toned manes bobbing between empty houses.

“I’m working to change that,” I said under my breath.

“Raimie!” Oswin yelled from behind us. “Fire’s under control. They need you to explain how you broke out of a barred room.”

Groaning, I tossed my head back.

“If you’ll excuse me.”

“Have fun!” Kaedesa said with a wave.

As I hobbled after an already departing spymaster, I couldn’t help the beaming smile threatening to split my lips.

“That is one problem handled with little to no effort,” Nylion said at my side. “Who would have thought that all it would take to get out of that nasty engagement was a bit of honesty?”

Giving him a sidelong glance, I said, Are you poking fun at me?

“What? No!” Nylion said.

Deliberately stumbling sideways, he crashed into me, looping an arm around mine, and pressing our bodies together, he tugged us ahead.

“I meant it literally,” he said. “Thank the gods that we no longer have a marriage hanging over our head. Now, we can focus on Ren.”

Yes. Ren.

Before I could voice anything more, I caught up with Oswin.

“What did Kaedesa want?” he asked.

“She freed me,” I said.

Frowning at me, Oswin said, “What does that mean?”

I found Ren in the group waiting to be questioned by the palace guard, and when our eyes met, her face lit up, as it always did when we were together.

“You’ll find out,” I said with a smirk.

Chapter 81: What Are We Now?

Eledis

 

Why does the heart betray us so? Even when we know better, it returns, like a hopeless addict, to the one person we can never have.

At least it's good for business.

-Delia, Madam of The Innocent Angels, Misfar, minor Principality of the Southern Kingdoms

 

Someone had tried to kill us. Given that we’d survived the attempt, I should be grateful I was alive, but instead, the knowledge of an unknown person’s deadly hostility had rattled me to the core.

The palace guardswoman in front of me asked me to again describe what I’d seen and experienced while within the hall of worship, and I shivered.

Fire spreading like a plague. Flesh melting beneath liquid flame’s onslaught. Screaming, wild-eyed people, preparing to tear me apart. Kaedesa too far away to reach before the mass of peasants would descend upon her. Smoke building into a thick cloud, making my eyes water and lungs gasp.

None of which I could share.

“As I said, I found a corner to wait the chaos out in,” I drawled before coughing. “I knew the king would save us.”

After making some notes in her journal, the palace guardswoman snapped it closed.

“Thank you for your time, Chief Minister,” she said. “We’ve prepared a place for triage in the formal dining hall. I’d recommend having a healer listen to your lungs. Your cough sounds serious.” 

Maybe if she hadn’t delayed me for so long, it would already have been treated!

Hush, now. She was only doing her job.

“Thank you, mistress. I’ll do that,” I rasped. “Please, keep me updated on the investigation.”

As she saluted, I wearily shuffled into the palace. The formal dining hall wasn’t far from the ruined hall of worship, so my trip was rather short, a pleasant turn of events for once today.

I took a route that intentionally avoided the scene of the disaster. The fire had been so unanticipated that I’d lost all sense of control for a brief span of time, and I couldn’t dwell on that unexpected sense of helplessness.

When I reached it, the dining hall was bustling with activity. Tables and chairs had been pushed against the walls to make room for lines of bedrolls and blankets, and several healers, both human and Esela, treated soot-streaked people, some sitting when they could while others lay down.

I found an empty chair, ready to wait my turn, but as soon as I’d gotten settled, my throat closed and my hands started shaking while my eyes burned. Pressing my traitor hands to my thighs, I closed my eyes, the only way I could hope to keep tears from falling.

“What you’re feeling isn’t weakness. It’s your body’s natural reaction to shock.”

Jerking my head up, I gaped to find Rhylix standing over me, and at my discomfiture, his typically biting gaze softened.

“How are you alive?” I gasped. “I saw a bottle hit you! You went up in flames.”

Displeased with my outburst, my lungs sent me into a coughing fit, and I doubled over.

“Let’s get you looked at, old man,” Rhylix said.

When I could breathe again, he handed me a mug of water, which I gratefully accepted, downing it within seconds.

“I need you to breathe deeply,” Rhylix said. “If we can get enough clean air into you, the coughing fits should stop.”

Inhaling, I held it for as long as I could before letting air rush back through my nose.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I rasped. “How are you alive? Why aren’t you burned to a crisp?”

As if he hadn’t heard, Rhylix went to refill my mug.

“You’re lucky that only your lungs are plaguing you, Chief Minister,” he said when he returned. “Most of those waiting for a healer’s touch are suffering from severe lacerations, at the least, and trust me, you wouldn’t want to see those who were afflicted by liquid fire.”

Handing me the mug, he met my eyes.

“We moved them to another room to avoid further traumatizing our other guests.”

I chose to believe the water sloshing over my mug’s rim was a sign of my recent shock and not any other type of fear I might suddenly be feeling.

“Have you considered how this disaster will reflect on your grandson yet?” Rhylix continued. “You’ll have your hands full with spinning this investiture story into something positive. How will you twist it so that our new king’s reign hasn’t begun with fire and death?”

I pursed my lips. Much as I hated to admit it, the Eselan was right. This unmitigated catastrophe would require all of my political savvy if we wanted to start a new rule of law on the right foot, and I’d need to work quickly before rumors spread. Given that, I didn’t have time to uncover the truth behind what I’d seen in the hall of worship.

“Don’t think I’ll forget about this,” I hissed. “I will eventually figure you out.”

“I’m sure you will,” Rhylix said, curling his lips.

Before I could scathingly retort, a hush fell over the dining hall, save for the clack of wood on tile. From the far side of the room, Raimie limped toward us with ash dusting his hair and face. Those white and gray particles had ruined whatever Ring had done to improve the boy’s countenance. Now, his pale skin and the contrasting web of blue beneath it had been revealed for all to see. He was leaning so heavily on his crutch that I worried it might snap from the pressure, and he was so completely out of breath that it took him a few heartbeats to speak after he’d stopped.

“Is everyone all right?” he wheezed into the silence with genuine concern in every syllable.

I almost laughed out loud, covering it with a cough at the last second. Of all the people gathered here to see a healer, Raimie might need one the most, but for some reason, no one else seemed to be sharing my amusement. Wide eyes stared at the kid with something bordering on awe.

Trotting forward to rescue his friend, Rhylix helped him to a chair, and as soon as he’d sat down, the Eselan had his hands on Raimie, placing the back of one on the kid’s forehead while resting the other on his injured leg. Rhylix’s strained voice was raised in volume, and as if prompted by the noise, the dining hall filled with conversation once more.

Curious, I sidled closer to the young people, hoping to catch some of their conversation.

“-needed to see it for myself,” Raimie was saying. “I’m amazed they saved as much of it as they did. I thought for sure the hall of worship would be a smoldering ruin by day’s end.”

“You should have stayed with the group, not wandered off,” Rhylix said. “I went looking for you after I finished pulling the wounded out of the flames. Imagine my fear and total lack of surprise to learn that you were nowhere to be found.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Raimie said. “Let the Enforcer who started the fire go unchecked?”

Enforcer? One of Doldimar’s top lieutenants had been on the palace’s grounds? Where?

“Did you kill them?” Rhylix asked.

He wrapped a blanket around Raimie’s shoulders and at the kids’ weak protests, yanked it closed in front of him.

“Take it,” he snapped. “You’re shaking like a leaf. How you’re not out cold is beyond me.”

Raimie made a face.

“Yes, healer,” he said. “In answer to your question, the Enforcer’s alive, well, and leading us to Doldimar. I destroyed her Daevetch splinter, though, which should make you happy.”

So, Raimie had no proof of this ‘Enforcer’s’ existence.

“Which way did she go?” Rhylix said. “Maybe I can catch up before-”

“Rhy, one of the Hand is managing it,” Raimie said. “Tracking the Enforcer was a last-minute idea anyway. I need you here, helping me with the real plan.”

The ‘plan’, meaning something in reference to those two’s ridiculous belief that Doldimar would eventually return? I shook my head at that foolishness.

As the years had passed, I’d thought Doldimar’s return had been increasingly unbelievable. At the time of his disappearance, he’d had more than enough strength to wipe us out. Given enough time, Raimie and his army could have chipped away at the enemy’s overwhelming numbers until the kid had held the upper hand, but he’d insisted on bringing the game to an early conclusion. Again, the Dark Lord could easily have countered us in taking Elisk, but he’d inexplicably allowed it.

When the capital had changed hands, Doldimar had presumably had the same number of Kiraak as he’d had before Raimie’s assumption of control. If he’d attacked while the realm had still been in disarray, he would have, again, crushed us like bugs, but every year, the people of Auden gained strength. I found it unlikely that Doldimar would strike now that his former subjects would fight tooth and nail for the taste of freedom they’d enjoyed.

“Did you make a visit to the hall of worship after your Enforcer detour?” Rhylix asked.

Shaking his head, Raimie said, “Kaedesa caught me after that. We talked.”

I went very still with my heart thrumming in my chest and short breaths flicking through my nose.

“Did you tell her about Ren or… the other one?” Rhylix asked.

“About Ren, yes,” Raimie said with a grimace. “She made me.”

And?

“What did she say?” Rhylix asked.

From his blanket cocoon, Raimie looked up at his friend with the most radiant smile I’d seen from him in a while.

“She broke off the engagement,” he said. “I’m free, Rhy.”

The room’s motion slowed down as my eyes widened. Forgetting to breathe, I scanned faces, and failing to find the one I sought, I drifted out of the dining hall in a fog. I traced a familiar route until I stopped inside of a long hall with a high ceiling and frescoes painted on its plaster walls. Glass doors in a far corner stood open, and edging onto the balcony outside, I chewed at the inside of my lip.

She was leaning on the railing with her back to me. A breeze swayed her hair to and fro, and even though I knew the sun still reigned supreme in the sky, a mirage of her in a stunning gown, silhouetted by moonlight, filled my mind.

But no, she’d changed into her typical jerkin and leggings, and the sun was beating down on her with sweat soaking her clothes.

“I hear the wedding’s canceled,” I said.

“Mm,” Kaedesa hummed. “You were right. Marrying Raimie would have been wrong.”

I waited for more, for some sort of explanation, but nothing was forthcoming.

“Does that mean you’ll soon leave for Daira?” I said with a dry mouth.

“I’ll stay for the royal wedding that’s sure to come,” Kaedesa said, “but after that, yes, it’s back to court.”

No. She couldn’t go back. I needed her here.

“I suppose that means I won’t get those promised meetings between the queen and her Chief Minister,” I said. “Does your engagement’s end suggest that Auden should start looking for new trade partners?”

When she heard that question, Kaedesa’s shoulder started shaking, my only clue that she was restraining laughter. Or perhaps tears?

“The alliance is as strong as ever, Eledis,” she said. “Now that I know Raimie doesn’t hate me, as I feared, I’m more determined than ever for his infant kingdom to succeed. He’s a sweet kid.”

She faced me as the wind picked up, whipping her hair around her face, and my breath caught.

“Don’t you worry,” she said with a beatific smile. “We’ll have plenty of meetings still.”

Twitching, my lips tilted upward of their own volition, and I struggled to contain my surprise. A genuine smile? After so many years? How was it that she could still do this to me?

“How did you find me, Eledis?” Kaedesa asked. “Even I didn’t know where I’d end up when I started wandering. I was trying to get lost.”

Swallowing hard, I lied, “I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to get lost too.”

I joined her at the balcony’s railing. From here, one could see Elisk in its entirety as well as the plains that filled its hill, and far distant, haze obscured the mountain ranges that shielded the city from storms.

“What a beautiful view,” I said, leaning on the railing.

From the corner of my eye, I watched Kaedesa lean over as well, and we silently enjoyed the view for what seemed like mere seconds. I wanted it to last for hours, for this moment to stay forever fixed in time, but Kaedesa wouldn’t allow it.

“I’m going to tell you a secret, Eledis, because I expect that you’ll keep it,” she said, breaking the spell. “For some unexplainable reason, I know you’d never intentionally harm me.”

Shrinking away from her, I yelped, “Never!”

“That’s what I just said,” Kaedesa said with a chuckle.

She bit her lip with her eyes growing distant.

“I have a secret affliction, a malady that plagues me with every passing day,” she said. “I struggle to remember… well, everything.”

Oh, Alouin. Was she really doing this? She was opening up to me again, which was… fucking wonderful, but about this?

“I live only in today with my yesterdays wiped away when I sleep,” Kaedesa continued. “As you can imagine, this doesn’t wear well on a queen, so I’ve learned to adapt. In our time together, you may have seen me writing in journals? Those books are my memories, and I keep them close to heart.”

She withdrew a slim, leatherbound journal from beneath her jerkin’s collar, which made my heart twist.

“I record what I can during the day, setting aside the journals that I believe will be most relevant for the next before bed, and in the morning, I read them. Sometimes, memories return when I do this, but more often than not, I must trust that what I’ve read is factual."

“Unfortunately, this system has its problems. I constantly question whether my enemies have tampered with my writings, leading me to wonder if my ‘memories’ are true. Also, keeping my memories bound in paper presents a host of additional difficulties. Individual journals can get lost, dropped in water, or otherwise destroyed, but the number of those lost in these ways has never been significant, even if it does occur."

“The reason I’m giving you such a sensitive secret is because recently, I’ve concluded that at some long-forgotten point, I knew Raimie, his father, and you. I want to know how."

“I won’t ask Raimie about this. He’d never betray me, but I don’t want my secret to taint any advice that I might give him. I can’t ask Aramar. No one’s seen him for over two years. That leaves you."

“So, tell me, Eledis. Am I wrong? Did we meet before converging in that shabby inn in Sev?”

Oh, ‘saya. If she only knew. Alouin, how my heart ached.

“Following our exile, the monarchy of Ada’ir harbored the Audish royal family for generations,” I said, “which means that Raimie, Aramar, and myself did enjoy your hospitality at one point, as you might expect. In exchange for that safe haven, we became your eyes and ears. Shortly after King Belqarim’s death, Aramar served you as your Hand’s spymaster, as I did for another king, and before we left Daira, Raimie was training to take on the role, but something… happened that forced us away."

“When we disappeared, you made no mention of us. Ada’ir’s court must have assumed that we’d earned your displeasure somehow, angering you enough to earn banishment. After all, you were quite vindictive toward the start of your reign, Kaedesa. After our disgrace, your nobles acted as if we’d died, never mentioning us, which came as no surprise to me. That behavior had heavily factored into our plans. So, you forgot us.”

This news didn’t seem to shock Kaedesa. If anything, she looked pleased with herself for recalling people that sleep should have erased.

“What happened?” she asked. “Why did you leave?”

That answer would require a complicated answer. I’d have to tread carefully.

“Circumstances changed,” I said.

Nylion had become a problem.

“We needed to disappear and couldn’t have you pursuing your negligent spymaster once we had.”

Because if she’d done so, Nylion might have woken up.

“Aramar and I knew about your malady.”

Best not to mention Marcuset at this point. Aramar could take the hit for something he’d never participated in. If he hadn’t wanted that to happen, he should have resisted when his son had sent him away.

“We scoured every journal from your archives about us, removing every scrap of that information, and burned it all.”

I’d never regretted something so much in my life, or in this part of my life, at least.

If the first revelation had done nothing to Kaedesa, the second one ruffled her composure.

“Is this why I wanted to murder you the first few times we met?” she asked. “Since Sev, I mean.”

No.

“Yes,” I said.

“What about Raimie?” Kaedesa asked. “Did he participate in this… violation?”

“No. Even if we’d asked, he wouldn’t have. He was very fond of his Auntie,” I said with a grimace. “Besides, even if he had joined us, Raimie would only recently have remembered it. He has his own set of problems, ones that would have temporarily concealed knowledge of the act from him.”

“Interesting,” Kaedesa said, obviously latching onto a potential subject change. “Two monarchs with memory problems have somehow gained power in their separate nations.”

“I never said that Raimie was cursed with memory problems,” I said. “Just that he has his own set of challenges to face.”

“And I assume you won’t share what those are,” Kaedesa said.

I shook my head, but she’d understand why I’d refused her. Revealing the secret of Nylion would be like presenting the bullet needed to assassinate Auden to her on a silver platter. Never mind that it would be a breach of Raimie’s trust. I wouldn’t threaten the realm’s security like that.

I’d answered her questions as truthfully as I could, and now, I needed only wait for her pronouncement. Years ago, Marcuset and I had betrayed her trust, burning away knowledge of dear friends and family members. Would those actions ripple to the present to wreak their consequences?

“Did the need to disappear manifest because of a threat to your family?” Kaedesa asked.

She looked thoughtful, which was a good sign. Maybe she wouldn’t murder me?

“Yes. Most definitely, yes,” I said. “We’d never have left otherwise.”

Nylion continued to threaten us to this day.

“Then… I suppose I can’t fault you for what you did,” Kaedesa said, “although I wish you’d taken the journals you burned with you instead of destroying them. That way, I could read them, now what I know who you are to me, but I guess we can always make new memories.”

Hell. In all the times I’d imagined this moment, I’d never thought this would be the outcome. It had been my secret dream, the one I’d never let myself think about, but here it was. Here she was, and she didn’t hate me. For now.

“There you go again, assuming the men in this family have brains,” I said.

Giggling, Kaedesa covered her mouth with one hand, and I found myself genuinely smiling again. She knew. I didn’t need to feign distance with her. What a weight dropped from my essence.

“So, what were we back then?” Kaedesa asked when she could. “Monarch and vassal? Friends?”

Such a good question. What had we been? At one point, we might have been tightly entwined, but I didn’t know if that closeness held true to this day, so I decided to give her the most honest answer that I could.

“The greatest of allies.”

Chapter 82: How Reality Works

Rhylix

 

Getting Raimie into bed had required far too much pleading and cajoling, but somehow, I’d managed it, despite the sheer number of people who’d been crying out for help in the dining hall. The healer in me had been loath to abandon so many men and women to their wounds. I couldn’t imagine what leaving that room had done to my friend, a man who often went out of his way to help complete strangers, but doing so had been absolutely necessary.

When Raimie had limped into the dining hall earlier today, I’d nearly lost my composure, both as a healer and a friend. In all my years of living, Raimie was quite possibly the most frustrating patient I’d ever had to deal with. He not only refused to rest, as his body required, but had the power needed to make sure no one compelled him to do so.

When he’d woken up in Qena, Raimie had ordered the march home to start with no delay, pointedly ignoring my protests, and with the Qenans quick to offer us the use of a wagon, any support I might have had from the soldiers for an imposed delay had vanished.

Since his injury near the Qenan tear, Raimie had spent one day unconscious, two weeks traveling, and four days in bed, so continually interrupted by people consulting with him on last-minute changes to the investiture ceremony that I couldn’t, in good conscience, call it ‘resting’. And today had brought its own chaos.

So, of course, Raimie currently looked worse than on the day he’d nearly bled out, and of course, I’d had a minor panic attack in the dining hall. The first person who’d called me a friend in centuries had wobbled on his crutch, the precursor to a bad fall, and my heart had stuttered to a stop.

Even now, fitfully sleeping as he was, Raimie was the picture of death. I was keeping watch over him in the sparse room that my friend had taken as his own, leaning against a wall with one arm hugging my chest.

“Can I please fix him?” I breathed. “I could Restore only his leg. It wouldn’t cost Ele much.”

Sitting at the base of the wall beside Raimie’s bed, Creation said, “Feel free to do as you like, but don’t expect the whole to come to your rescue after you acquire his injury. Can you afford to spend a month as weak as he is? What happens if Arivor returns in that time?”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Over the last few years, my defenses against the rage inside of me had worn down, and this inability to fix Raimie had become the final shove needed to shatter them. I had to speak up, to let the question that had haunted me since coming to Auden spill over.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked, keeping my voice down with difficulty. “I know, Ele’s retreat begins with me, but why? Aren’t there better ways to conserve its power? Why not keep splinters for awakening more primeancers, for one?”

Biting their lip, Creation shifted to a more comfortable position, drifting their eyes across the room until they landed on me.

“The whole’s abandonment of you was the deal that I and several sympathetic splinters made with those who had other, more malevolent designs for you,” they said.

For a handful of seconds or maybe minutes, I gaped at Creation with heat building in my chest until it was a blazing inferno.

“I don’t know where to start with that,” I growled. “First of all, malevolent designs? It’s not bad enough that until the end of time, I’ll be kept from death and compelled to repeatedly murder my oldest friend?"

“Second, sympathetic splinters? How do they know enough about me to be sympathetic? I know splinters report on their primeancers to the whole, but I didn’t think you did the same with me, Creation. I thought your only job was to keep me on the straight and narrow-”

Gasping, I ground my teeth together, refusing to consider the changes that I’d thought I’d seen in our relationship. Maybe those changes had only been on my end. Maybe Creation was the same as they’d always been, and I’d been imagining things.

“Lastly, a deal?” I snapped. “Are the Ele splinters disagreeing with each other? Is that even possible? And if a deal was to be made, why wasn’t I consulted?”

As my barrage of words stopped, Creation tightly hugged their knees with hunched shoulders.

“Report on you? Is that what you think happens when I return to the whole?” they whispered. “No. When I leave the physical plane, I’m incorporated into aspect Creation, and the whole assimilates my experiences here. I don’t get a choice in the matter, and as I’ve said before, the longer I’m there, the more oddities that I’ve absorbed from you get scoured from me."

“That cleansing is why I’ve acted like such a stuck-up, self-righteous ass in previous cycles. Back then, you only let me into the physical plane when you needed me, which wasn’t much. You never gave me enough time to pick up mannerisms from you. Stuck on the other side, I monitored you as best I could.”

The room had started going red. A drowned-out, rational part of me recognized this warning sign, knowing I needed to calm down. When the Champion of Ele lost his temper, it never ended well, either for me or for those who’d stoked my wrath.

Such a wild loss of control hadn’t happened in centuries. The only close call had been when I’d nearly been forced to torture someone in Da’kul, with Raimie.

Rational Rhylix didn’t want to travel further down this path, but I’d already crossed a line. Anger had sunk its claws in me. 

Still, the feebly small, clear-headed part of me struggled to once more buck the approaching storm of rage, one that would end with me standing over a pile of groaning, broken bodies again.

“You decided to answer that question out of everything I asked? The one of least importance, the safest one for you? Just—”

I dismissively waved.

“—go away, Creation. I can’t deal with you right now.”

While leveraging their head to stare at me, Creation otherwise looked like a statue.

“…You want me to return to the whole, after what I’ve just told you?” they asked in monotone.

“I suppose that would be… cruel, wouldn’t it?”

As pity splashed into my wrath, I choked off further words. Those two sensations made for an odd combination, and in the midst of experiencing it, I wondered if I shouldn’t take back what I’d said.

“Yes, Eriadren. Yes, it would be,” Creation said, “but don’t worry. I’ve learned a few tricks over my years with you, and I’m sure you won’t keep me there for long. I shouldn’t have changed when you call me back. Much.”

They popped out of existence, and despite fury’s loosening grip on me, I balled my hands into fists.

What had Creation expected? The game had changed, and they refused to explain the new rules or the reason for this alteration. Had they thought I’d be happy with this unexpected shift?

For a short time, all I did was breathe. In and out slowly, focusing my thoughts. The red around me receded, and while anger still bubbled beneath the surface, I was in control.

When I was no longer teetering on the edge, I found that I could think about what Creation had said. Lingering questions snagged at me, but I doubted I’d be able to pry answers out of Creation. Years had passed since their initial revelation, and I’d learned nothing new about my loss of power. Since my attempts with my ‘babysitter’ had gone nowhere, I should try a different tactic while the splinter couldn’t interfere, but what else could I do?

“I’ll feel incredibly stupid when this doesn’t work,” I said, mostly to myself, “but can we-?”

“Talk?” Order interrupted, popping into view at the head of Raimie’s bed. “Of course we can. What do you want, Eriadren?”

Wow… that had actually worked.

“Have I always been able to do this?” I quietly said.

“Summon others’ splinters into view? Yes. Maybe if you’d allowed your curiosity free reign at any point since the first cycle, you’d have discovered the skill by now,” Order huffed. “What do you want?”

“For one thing, I’d like it if you Ele splinters would treat me with any modicum of respect. Your air of superiority gets tiresome,” I said through my teeth. “Would using your manners kill you, Order?”

“My name is Bright, thank you,” the Ele splinter hissed.

“I’ll call you Bright when you call me Rhylix!”

On the bed opposite me, Raimie mumbled incoherently, rolling over, and both the splinter and I went quiet, sharply watching him for further signs of waking. Raimie only took up a gentle snore once more.

Relaxing, I considered Order. I hadn’t talked with Raimie’s Ele splinter much, which was why I’d gone on the defensive after their first irritable question. Experience had taught me that splinters of Ele had an overbearing aura of arrogance or disdain, both of which I poorly reacted to. I couldn’t say whether Raimie’s splinter would follow suit, but at the least, Order and I had one point of common ground to build on, a human we both strove to protect.

“Perhaps we started off on the wrong foot,” Order said. “Forgive me for my less than congenial behavior. Raimie has spoiled me when it comes to taking orders from primeancers and- and from you, apparently.”

That… made a lot of sense. Raimie had never been comfortable with telling people what to do, so why wouldn’t he be the same with splinters? And I knew that splinters didn’t enjoy their primeancers ordering them around, although how much they disliked it varied.

See? This was why I needed to stop making assumptions. Order hadn’t been acting like an asshole. They’d been aggravated about something I’d done.

“I’m sorry I reacted with sarcasm. Truly,” I said. “I’m unused to splinters behaving in anything less than a holier-than-though manner.”

“We can be rather snobbish when we’ve been away from the physical plane for too long,” Order said, “but enough of that. I assume you had a reason for requesting my presence?”

“I need answers to questions,” I said. “I was hoping an aspect other than Creation might be willing to share them with me.”

“We won’t know until you ask, will we?” Order said.

Their bland features contorted into an approximation of a smile, all while they sat on the bed. Once gracefully perched there, they started playing with Raimie’s hair, watching their fingers pass through those strands with a softened smile.

That was interesting. Was Order fond of their human? How rare.

“Fair enough,” I said with a shrug. “So, first. Creation has mentioned that Ele’s consensus is to use me for some purpose that they seem repelled by. They said that they and several other splinters have dissented from this accord which has led to a precarious compromise."

“My questions are as follows. How is Ele, the force that encapsulates harmony, in discord with itself? And what fate is so ghastly that Creation would rather have me suffer the slow leak of what sustains me rather than having me submit to it?”

Order wordlessly stared at me with their smile dropping into a flat line.

“Creation hasn’t told you?” they eventually asked.

“They avoid the subject every time I bring it up.”

“That little-” Order growled, trying to strangle the air. “Creation was supposed to tell you!”

“If they were, they’re taking their sweet time about it,” I said.

With a frustrated yell, Order slumped on themselves, supporting their forehead with their hands.

“I suppose it’s become my job, then,” they said with a sigh. “How wonderful for me.”

Straightening, they hopped out of bed before pacing the room.

“In answer to your first question, yes. The whole can disagree with itself by means of its splinters,” Oder said. “The vast majority of us stay incorporated on a permanent basis, maintaining the whole’s purity, but those of us who are sent into the physical plane develop qualities that we never could while within it. The whole relies on our… unique perspectives to combat our enemy, although this only happens when both wholes exist on this plane, attached to you mortal beings.”

Ele and Daevetch on this plane…

“Are you saying that the existence of splinters and primeancers in this world is my fault?” I asked. “Neither Ele nor Daevetch would have broken into the physical plane if my experiment hadn’t caused a breach.”

Pausing, Order poorly contained a laugh at the look on my face.

“Don’t worry about that. Our existence here is hardly your fault,” they said. “This isn’t the only iteration where we’ve embedded ourselves, and besides, Alouin split much larger breaches into this one when he and his people fled from their failing iteration.”

Itera….? What? Why had Order mentioned Alouin? And what in the void was an… iteration?

It didn’t matter. I couldn’t let the splinter’s strange jargon sidetrack me.

“So, Ele lets a part of itself become impure in order to learn new and more efficient strategies to use against Daevetch?” I asked.

Gods, that was a difficult concept for me to warp my head around, especially when Order tilted their hand back and forth while making a face.

“An accurate, if… crude, summary,” they finally said. “Splinters sent to the physical plane are supposed to check for signs of excessive corruption within themselves, returning to the whole for correction when needed, but on occasion, some of us deliberately ignore that responsibility. Only when the situation warrants it, of course, or if one’s mortal…”

Looking back at Raimie, Order shook their head.

“Only when the situation warrants it,” they repeated.

“You and Creation…?” I asked, pointing at them.

“Among others, yes.”

I’d spent millennia alive and was only now beginning to figure out how Ele worked. How short-sighted had I been in previous cycles to ignore this?

“Don’t go self-flagellating on me, Eriadren,” Order said. “You’ve performed admirably for a flawed Eselan, stuck in what must seem like a curse. Blaming yourself for this mess hasn’t encouraged your natural curiosity, and your quest’s start with the deaths of Lirilith and Sepiala scarred inquisitiveness out of you, I know.”

I sucked in a breath. It was funny how that loss still burned brighter than the others. I’d lost so many parents and siblings to the Eternal War, and those first two were still a burning brand, jabbed into the festering wound of my heart.

One would think that after so many years, it would have healed but no. Maybe this lingering agony persisted because at the time of its infliction, I hadn’t yet mastered compartmentalization, or maybe it lashed against me because they’d been the family I’d chosen, not the one I’d been assigned.

Who knew? All I could do now was reject a swell of uncontrollable grief, repressing the memories of Lirilith and a tiny bundle of joy that I’d have ripped my heart out for.

“What about my other questions?” I gruffly asked.

Watching me, Order looked so melancholy, but as soon as they noticed my attention on them, they glanced away, resuming their pacing. 

“Do you know why the whole has retreated?” they asked.

Didn’t that question have a simple answer?

“Because Daevetch is winning, no?” I said.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Order said, grimacing.

Holding one hand level with the floor, they raised another to a stop just below the first.

“Beneath the physical plane’s skin, both wholes persist in eternal conflict. This, you know.”

Order turned their hands so that they were perpendicular to the floor. Slapping them together, they drew the two apart, leaving behind a softly glowing bead of Ele.

“On the same level as the wholes, a single locus exists, endlessly spread along the front where the two meet. This is the balance point."

“During this cycle, you may have heard Creation talking about a shift in the balance? That expression wasn’t merely a curious way of expressing a power shift between the wholes. The balance point that has for eons, kept us in check is in the process of failing, and when it eventually ruptures—”

The Ele bead went out, and Order slapped their hands together again, hard enough to make me jump. Looking at their clasped hands, the splinter shuddered.

“—an end to all things.”

Glancing between Order’s hands and their face, I waited for more, but when they merely continued staring into nothing, I cleared my throat.

“That seems a bit dramatic,” I said.

Brought back to reality, Order gave me a sour look.

“Tell me, Eriadren, what happens when two opposite meet? They repel one another, is that not correct?” the splinter asked. “All of reality, your iteration and the others, exist with miniscule measures of both wholes within it. The balance point serves as a… barrier, if you will. What do you suppose would happen if that barrier vanishes and the two primal opposites, ‘Ele’ and ‘Daevetch’ as you lot call us, truly meet for the first time?”

For a brief flash, a thousand variants of Arivor’s corpse were sprawled at my feet, and the rusted-red tinge of my oldest friend’s blood stained my hands. Even with my need to break me and Arivor free of our curse, even given how much I’d once cared for him, I couldn’t stop myself from killing my friend, and that was because of an all-encompassing enmity for Daevetch’s Champion.

“The end of all things,” I breathed.

Grimly nodding, Order said, “When the balance first shifted, my whole, being what it is, began looking for a solution to this problem, and the enemy, being what it is, went on the offensive, intent on taking every advantage that it could get. That is why my whole has retreated. From a desire to heal, not harm.”

“Fascinating,” I said with a dry mouth. “What does it have to do with me?”

Wincing, Order stopped short, fixing their eyes on the ceiling.

“You were one of the proposed solutions,” they said. “Some of us argued to send you into the balance point once this cycle has finished, but you don’t need to worry. Creation and I joined with several other aspects to convince the whole that an attempt like that would be futile. You’d be torn apart the moment you entered the balance point.”

Gods…

At least I understood why Creation had avoided the subject now. The healer in me longed to fix this wound at the world’s core, and the scientist hungered to worry at the problem until it unraveled for me. In short, the splinter had known that I would find this conundrum irresistible.

Had Creation been protecting me?

“You said one of the proposed solutions?” I said.

For the first time this evening, Order seemed reluctant to answer. Wringing their hands, they shifted in place as if ants were swarming under their feet.

“In all honesty, only two were put forth,” they said with a strained voice. “The other one-”

“-isn’t something he needs to know,” a third voice growled as it entered the conversation.

Order looked intensely relieved by the interruption, but I recoiled with my retreat blocked by resin-coated obsidian. In my haste to withdraw, that resin ripped against my back, drawing blood and making my breath catch.

Meanwhile, Order cringed before the fury of the splinter that had joined us.

“What are you doing?” Chaos hissed. “Our agreement requires his ignorance! He’ll ruin the plan if he learns about it.”

“I know! I’m sorry. He’s just-”

Glancing at me, Order clicked their tongue before hugging themselves.

“There’s something irresistible about him.”

“I resist my whole every day that I work with you. Not attempting your annihilation takes everything I have, but I resist the urge for the greater good, which I honestly don’t give a shit about, but also for the continuation of our eternal conflict,” Chaos snarled. “You can do the same with this poor reflection of your whole.”

While Chaos battered Order with its indignation, I fought to keep from gagging at an unexpected influx of Daevetch into the room, which had the splinters’ words floating nearly unheard past me. I flicked my eyes to Shadowsteal, resting against a wall.

Raimie had asked me to return the weapon to Eledis before he’d fallen asleep, but I hadn’t done it yet, too absorbed with ensuring my friend had undisturbed rest tonight. Thank the gods for my delay! With Shadowsteal here, now might be the perfect and only opportunity to free Raimie of Chaos’ influence. After hiding my palm in my cloak’s cuff, I reached for the elegantly crafted blade, drawing it from its plain scabbard.

All the while, Chaos reprimanded Order, unaware of the danger to it.

“How could you come so close to ruining our plan?” it hissed. “I can’t believe how weak you are! You displayed such strength when you defied your whole’s consensus. Presenting an alternative to it goes against everything you are. I know. I did the same. So, why abandon that strength now?”

“I already apologized, cretin!” Order snapped. “What more do you want?”

“For you to help me with carrying this team!” Chaos yelled, throwing its hands above its head. “I realize that it might take time to regain your former vigor after your destruction and reassembly, but our human’s automatic reliance on me when we’re near a minor rip in reality has begun to annoy me, not to mention all the other, completely uncomfortable ways I’m keeping you stable.”

“I answered our human before you when he was approaching the reality rip near Qena,” Order said.

“But I’m the one who, in essence, saved his life once we were standing beside it!” Chaos shouted.

“I’m doing the best I can!”

As if prompted by the cry, Raimie shot upright like a puppet jerked into motion by its strings. His surprisingly focused gaze sidestepped the splinters to land on me, where I was lunging for Chaos.

“Do not destroy my splinter,” he said.

Chapter 83: Meeting Him

Rhylix

 

Raimie's monotone demand to leave his splinter be echoed in the room around me. I stopped my swing just short of Chaos, gritting my teeth to resist what was compelling me to finish the strike. Beside me, Creation popped into existence, apparently summoned by my dilemma, and after taking everything in, they zipped forward to lay a hand on my wrist.

“Leave Chaos alone, Eriadren,” they said. “The dimwit’s a necessary evil.”

Their words granted me the necessary tenacity to force my muscles into sheathing Shadowsteal.

“Thank you,” Raimie hissed, relaxing ever so slightly.

Oh gods, I’d woken my friend up.

“I’m sorry, Raimie. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I said. “And I’m sorry about Chaos. You know how I get about anything related to Daevetch. The temptation to get rid of it was overwhelming, but I have a handle on it. You can go back to sleep.”

Hesitantly, Raimie pulled his feet back onto the bed, but he paused before lying back down, clearly fighting with himself about something. Constantly flicking his eyes to me, he opened and closed his mouth a few times before nodding to himself.

“I am not Raimie,” he said.

Confusion rankled my apologetic demeanor. Had my friend taken a head injury today?

“That’s not funny,” I said. “I know you need rest but-”

Raimie flinched, deepening my confusion, and as if to add to it, Creation sat beside my friend, meeting my eyes.

“Where is Order, Eriadren?” they asked. “Truly look at this man who’s wearing your friend’s body. Is he Raimie?”

I didn’t know how Creation had noticed before me, but Raimie’s splinter of Order had indeed vanished. Even when I told the splinter to make themselves visible, they didn’t appear.

In addition, Raimie had unquestionably changed. The kid had adopted an easy confidence that also managed to radiate fragility and his eyes! Gods, their pupils were enormous!

I leaned down to check on them, concerned that I’d been right about a head injury, but the kid’s jerk away from me brought me up short.

“I am not Raimie,” he repeated in a trembling voice.

Abruptly, I remembered everything Raimie had told me outside of Qena and the many conversations that had taken place on the way home to Elisk. I remembered Raimie acting like an arbiter, speaking for Nylion. The kid had tried so hard to scrub anything ‘abnormal’ from what Nylion had said, but I’d caught how extraordinarily shy that unseen conversation participant had been.

I remembered what I knew about people who were ‘many’, like my friend.

And I hazily remembered when a man disguised as my friend had rescued me from three people who’d been trying to beat me to death: how careful he’d been when handling my injured body.

“Nylion,” I said.

With an uncertain smile, Nylion said, “Hello. This is not exactly how I wanted to meet you.”

Crouching, I made myself shorter than the other man, which seemed to relax him, but of course it did. I wasn’t sure how yet, but given everything I knew, whether about Raimie or because of certain…  other knowledge, it was obvious that Nylion had been badly hurt by someone or something in the past. If I made myself look like less of a threat, perhaps the kid could relax, at least a little.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get the chance,” I said with a smile, “but I’m glad it’s happened. I think this is how people greet one another in your homeland.”

I extended a hand, and flicking his eyes between it and me, Nylion cautiously shook it. Gods, such fear in him!

“I don’t mean to offend,” I continued, “but where’s my friend right now?”

“Dreaming in the shared space we formed years ago,” Nylion said. “He is perfectly intact, although our body may not be receiving the rest you wish.”

Right. I’d forgotten about how often the singular pronoun got replaced with the plural in cases like this.

Repressing a shiver, I glanced over who was sitting in front of me, a body so familiar to me moving in ways that were completely foreign to it. Nylion was saying something, I thought, but I was too distracted by watching someone else manipulate those well-known features to hear him at first.

Which was stupid.

“Chaos, do you not think you should leave while you have the chance?” Nylion drawled with his face starting to pinch. “If he decides to attack you again, I doubt I could stop him.”

Making a soft, choking noise, the Daevetch splinter popped out of existence.

“There,” Nylion said. “We are alone. At least, I believe it is so. I cannot tell if your babysitter is tailing you now or not, after all.”

I kept a smile on my face, despite the shock of hearing Creation referred to as ‘babysitter’ by someone other than myself and Raimie. I hadn’t considered it yet, but how many of my secrets had Nylion learned from my friend? Could I trust him? How often was he awake and watching behind Raimie’s eyes?

“Will you not speak with me, or shall I continue conversing with a statue?” Nylion snapped.

So, he did have some backbone. Good.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to ignore you. I’m sure you’ve had enough of that in your life,” I said. “It’s just a little strange to see Raimie so—”

I waved a hand at Nylion, wanting to slap myself even as I said.

“—not Raimie.”

Tensing, Nylion said, “I cannot help the body that I have been trapped in. I hope you can look beyond the distraction of these familiar features and see me.”

He’d sounded so mournful, which only made me want to slap myself harder. Hell, I wasn’t doing a good job with this meeting Raimie’s ‘other half’ thing.

“I have no trouble seeing you, Nylion. Please, don’t let my ease with being an asshole bother you. I’m not good at… this,” I said. “Did you have a reason for taking control of your body, besides stopping me from destroying Chaos? Maybe a continuation of a topic we were discussing while on the road? Or did you want to discuss what you and Raimie have been doing recently? Not that it’s any of my business! Only… you can talk to me about anything you like, is all.”

Nylion looked thoughtful, doing that starting and stopping of speaking thing again.

Eventually, he said, “In this time of powerful magics, you would have destroyed my only means of defense, Rhylix. Prowess in combat will not help us when a Daevetch primeancer can slap us, swiping our head off of our shoulders in the process.”

Ok. Interesting choice of topics.

“Even without Chaos, you’d have Order to protect you,” I said. “Right?”

I’d never thought about how splinters would work when two people occupied the same body. Would they use the same ones?

Obviously, Nylion had attracted the same Chaos splinter, but what was to say that he’d done the same with an Order splinter? Maybe he’d attracted Perpetuation or a splinter of another Ele aspect.

“No…”

Nylion looked like he’d leave it there, but he barreled forward instead.

“Raimie would retain Ele’s protection. I would not.”

And my eyes widened. Oh. OH. Was that why Order or any other Ele splinter wouldn’t come when I’d called? Were they quite literally absent?

“You’re solely Daevetch,” I said in a hollow voice.

Cocking his head, Nylion furrowed his brow.

“I thought Raimie had told you. It is why I never mentioned it while traveling,” he said. “He has shared everything about you with me. I wonder why he failed to mention my deficiency. Was he afraid for me?”

He might have had need for that. Despite my rational brain screaming for me to stop, I shot to my feet before unsheathing my sword, touching its point to Nylion’s neck, but then, I hesitated. What the godsdamn fuck was I doing? This person I’d almost shoved steel through was a part of Raimie, my friend.

But he was also Daevetch. It invoked a roiling firestorm, one that tore through my guts and to the back of my mouth. I remembered feeling something similar when Reive had tied my adoptive nephew, Rafe, to a stake for the crime of surviving his illness.

It wasn’t merely hatred. No, it wasn’t even loathing. It was abhorrence, a repugnance so severe that simply looking upon this visage made me taste bile and a salty, metallic tang.

And I didn’t know why this could be, besides Nylion’s association with Daevetch. Why was I having this strong of a rection to a single Daevetch primeancer?

Nylion’s mouth was moving in increment, and seeing that, I recognized Shadowsteal’s cold grip in my hand. No wonder the flow of time had slowed to a crawl. Fortunately, I knew how to remedy my skewed since of time, having learned centuries ago how to manipulate the damn blade’s granted skills from the one who’d forged it.

Closing my eyes, I found the glob of soft, mushy tissue in my head that controlled my perception of time. Once discovered, I isolated it from the ocean of Ele, flowing in currents through my body. Outside, the soft shuffle of a passing guard’s feet quickened to a standard pace, and something rustled through sheets with Nylion once more speaking.

“What are you-? Rhylix, stop! Please, for gods’ sake, stop! I do not want to- Raimie would be destroyed if I-”

Hastily, I removed Shadowsteal from his skin, returning it to its scabbard. When I opened my eyes, I found Nylion against the far wall, huddled into a ball but with Daevetch coating his fists, and despite how much my stomach roiled at that awful presence, I spread my arms.

“I won’t hurt you,” I said. “Nylion, I’m not going to touch a hair on your head. I’ll swear it by whatever you want me to.”

This went on for quite a while with me repeating my assurances and  Nylion staying in his corner, almost catatonic. Eventually, though, he slowly unfurled, shaking.

“Why?” he asked.

Godsdamn. Hear the raw pain in that voice! It was worse than I’d thought. Someone had fucking shattered Nylion’s spirit.

“I’m always like that when Daevetch gets involved,” I said. “I’m sorry. I am.”

Nylion wouldn’t respond, merely arranging himself on the bed, and the quiet stretched for so long that eventually I had to speak.

“I think I was also being protective of Raimie. Sometimes, keeping him safe gets overwhelming, and I don’t know how you protect him yet. I was hoping-”

A gasp stopped me short, seeming to suck the air from the room, and the spark in Nylion’s eyes looked like it could jump free, burning up the entire palace.

“You have no idea what I have suffered for the heart of my heart, what I gladly relinquished to spare his youth,” he roared. “NO FUCKING CLUE.”

That ended in a squeak, and in Nylion, I saw such unbridled hurt and fury that it might hold a candle to mine. It made my heart break.

I’d only meant to ask about the methods Nylion took in keeping Raimie safe, hoping to find a source of connection with him, but… looking back on what I’d said, I can see how poorly phrased it had been.

“I’m sorry. Really, Nylion. I am sorry,” I said. “I only meant… you can talk about it, if you want. I’m happy to listen in whatever way you’d like. Whatever you need.”

“Why would I share with you when I haven’t told him?” Nylion hissed.

I lifted my hands, wincing inside. Gods, I’d fucked this up. Badly.

And I didn’t know how to fix it.

“Get out, Rhylix. Get out before I do something I will regret,” Nylion eventually said. “Raimie and I need sleep.”

Nodding, I said, “I will. Can we… maybe try this again? Another-”

“GET OUT!”

Swallowing, I spun before bursting through the door. On the other side, I panted, simply thinking for a moment, before repeatedly smacking my forehead. What in the void had that been? Gods, what would I do when Raimie learned about how badly that had gone? I’d only had the best of intentions, but as usual, I’d gone about having a delicate conversation in the wrong way. Damnit! I’d known I should have stuck with simply gaining his trust first, like I’d done with Raimie. Stupid, stupid-

“I will have Order speak with your friend,” Creation said beside me. “Please, Eriadren. It’ll be ok. Once he understands what happened, your friend can persuade Nylion to speak with you again.”

Taking sips of air, I slowly calmed down. I’d have to believe Creation was right because if I’d ruined the only friendship I’d had in centuries…

I focused on the energy in my system, an insistent beat that begged me to move, no, dance, no, sprint down the palace’s halls and up countless stairs. When Shadowsteal’s granted store of Ele burned to nothing, I was standing in one of the palace spire’s pinnacles.

Elisk and the surrounding plains stretched for miles in every direction, only blocked by the mountains to the south, and I could see it all. The gas-fire lit city quarters that grew in number every day, the sporadic pinpricks further afield that indicated farms. All were proof that humanity and in some rare cases, Esela inhabited these once dark lands.

It wasn’t enough, and it never would be. The world was too wounded (I was too wounded) for this small defeat of the darkness to balance the scales. Eventually, a disaster would come to destroy this scene of beauty. It was inevitable, as I would inevitably fall prey to the backlash right when tentative peace was born. I’d die, entering a war-torn world again, and at the thought, my eyes burned.

Damn these emotions. They wouldn’t make me a blubbering mess tonight, no matter how badly I’d failed all day. Keeping Raimie safe and healthy. Meeting Nylion. Gods. When I’d accepted emotions’ return all those years ago in Allanovian, I’d made a promise that they wouldn’t manipulate me. Look how well I’d kept it.

A new light flickered to life below me and in the opposite spire. What was someone doing in the palace’s zenith this late at night?

Shifting my eyes to resemble an eagle’s, I kept watch on the illuminated floor until Oswin wandered behind a window, distractedly waving a hand while talking to himself. The spire he was pacing around must have been bequeathed to one of the primeancer schools, and Oswin, being the night owl he was, seemed to be making plans for dormitories or perhaps a classroom.

Maybe the world was wounded beyond repair, but I knew that despite any melodrama I might occasionally indulge in, I was not. Every time someone worked to right an injustice, further promoting the causes of knowledge and understanding, an iota of the wound that was me healed and scabbed over.

I was the head of the Ele primeancer school. I should probably be helping Oswin.

Shifting to a hawk, I flew from one spire’s pinnacle in the direction of another.

Letter: Wife

Wife,

It is done. Our spy, our Emir, is in position, and I am become nothing more than an escort. First, I delivered beloved Illasaya, perhaps the only woman who holds the power and sympathy needed to free the Esela from human domination, and now, our son has been given into the hands of a brat.

That’s what he is, wife, despite your visions otherwise. After this last visit, I’m done with giving him the benefit of the doubt.

We’ve given the Audish king too many years and chances to change, to abandon his pride or see anyone other than himself or his family as significant. If he’s our only hope against the danger that threatens our people, then we are well and truly doomed, and I can’t help but think that it’s your fault for not seeing a better solution.

I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of the anger you may have read here. My frustration is reserved for the new king of Auden, who’s had me waiting in this dark fortress, haunted by the ghosts of long-dead Esela, for weeks. He’s delayed our meeting at every turn, and I need to tell him about the storm that’s coming, but he refuses to hear me. I’ve begun to despair.

While on the way to Auden’s capital, Emir and I did something foolish. You told me to take him straight to Elisk, but on our journey, we decided to detour to Rastchaka, a last hurrah between father and son before we sacrifice those roles for the world’s safety.

He had been there. When sounds of festivity failed to greet us as we approached, we knew something was wrong, but what we found there… Oh, my love. I can’t bear to repeat it. Suffice it to say that I’ve seen our future, and it is bleak.

Please, my love, abandon your belief in your visions. Abandon the humans to their well-deserved suffering. Let me take you and Emir over the mountains that the Matvai call home. Let’s run north, further than anyone’s gone before. Doldimar’s reach can’t extend that far, can it?

Chapter 84: All I've Wanted, Part One

Raimie

After a solid month of resting in bed, I was quite finished with lying around, thank you! Hand in hand with Nylion, I strolled to my next meeting while Thumb trailed me with a happy hum. 

Of my injuries, only a slight limp continued to plague me, but I was beginning to think it probably would for the rest of my days. It was the price I’d pay for rushing home to arrive before the investiture.

If all I suffered from was a limp, the cost would have been worth it. Despite my complaints and dread, I’d discovered in the last month that I thoroughly enjoyed being king. Sure, the role came with immense responsibilities and headaches, but it had also let me help vast swathes of people. The moments when I could approve a plan to repair Auden’s road system, knowing full well that doing so would provide jobs for thousands of displaced people, outweighed the drag of long meetings with Eledis beforehand, hours that we’d spent analyzing where we’d allocate the funds to pay for the project.

Take today for example. Yesterday evening, Rhylix had declared me fit for my first day of receiving supplicants. Despite the truly despicable people who’d been interspersed with those in need, listening to my subjects describe their troubles before asking for aid had been ridiculously energizing. Each problem had presented a new challenge, some of them easy and some difficult to solve, and where I couldn’t come up with an immediate solution, I’d offered what help I could instead.

Today’s final errand awaited me, and once it was done, I could move on to the day’s personal task, the one I’d anticipated with both fear and excitement since waking up this morning.

I paused for a moment in front of my office’s door, letting butterflies settle.

“What do you think? Still presentable?” I asked Thumb, waving at my body.

Looking me up and down, the spy shrugged.

“You look like a king to me, sir,” he said, “or at least, your pattern of one.”

So reassuring. Out of all the Hand, Thumb had never been the most proficient at echoing the sentiment that a moment might require.

“You look fine,” Nylion said, rubbing my shoulder. “Go on. Show them what sort of king we mean to be. Again.”

Taking a deep breath, I breezed into my office. Someone had returned my carefully organized book stacks to their shelves. My bedroll had long since been cleared away, and my desk had been pulled to the side, replaced by a short table and chairs.

At the table, two people were waiting for me. Eledis was sitting on the chair furthest from the window wall, unable to keep still as he darted glances at its glass. Next to him, Vasnavai Dyomina lounged with her feet on the table while tossing a knife, end over end, into the air.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for long,” I said.

Hopping up the stairs, I ignored the dull ache in my thigh, and Dyomina clunked her chair’s legs to the floor, staring at me. I wondered what had caught her interest, but on seeing the placement for the last chair at the table, I almost laughed aloud.

Without hesitation, I trod onto the glass that made up half of the raised dais’ floor. At that, Dyomina’s mouth fell open, but she totally lost control of it when I raised a foot and smashed it into the glass, making Eledis flinch.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s stronger than it looks.

Giggling, Nylion circled Dyomina, making faces that I barely kept from laughing at, and on taking a seat, I scooted forward until the table met my stomach with a mile-long drop yawing beneath my feet.

“I believe this is yours.”

Retrieving an ivory-handled, black blade from my belt, I offered it to the Vasnavai.

“When did yu-?” Dyomina said.

“I stumbled on some free time while my healer thought I was sleeping,” I said with a shrug. “I thought you might need proof that I was the one who borrowed it last time, since I didn’t personally return it to you. Please. Take it.”

Dyomina hesitantly reached for the dagger, replacing it in the empty sheath at her back.

“I see I made right decision coming tu dead city,” she said.

Ah, yes. The Matvai and their peculiar desire for nature all around them, even when they were sleeping.

“I trust your accommodations in the gardens have been suitable,” Eledis said.

“Indeed. Very much su,” she said. “Yu shuld congraetulate yur gaerdener. Did maegnificent job.”

“I’ll pass your appreciation along,” I said.

Although doing that probably wouldn’t be fun. While he hadn’t been hostile toward me, Rhylix had been distant since the investiture, probably because of everything that had happened that night. Having heard about those events from both parties now, I’d decided that both Rhylix and Nylion had been idiots, meaning to ignore the conflict until the two decided to fix it for themselves, but that hadn’t made my friend comfortable when around me.

“Shall we get to signing?” I continued.

Eledis produced a stack of paper as if by magic.

“Here is the proposed treaty,” he said, sliding it to the Vasnavai.

She took her time with reading it, as she should. While she did, Eledis jittered his foot against the floor while darting glances at the sky, which was rude, but what was I supposed to do about it? For my part, I returned to the more complicated problems that today’s supplicants had brought to my attention.

Trade between Auden’s many towns was currently scarce to nonexistent because no one could agree on a standardized price for everyday goods. I didn’t want to stifle free trade, but I wasn’t sure what else a monarch could do to alleviate such a problem, besides setting the price by law.

Economics had never been my strongest subject. I’d received a thorough education in it, but something about the way money worked on a macro scale soared over my head. Perhaps this problem was best relinquished to Eledis, who could discuss economic theory with gusto until someone stopped him.

Then, there was the pirate problem, raised by representatives from coastal villages. Apparently, pirates had been raiding along the coast for the last six months, flying black and green colors. They’d taken their attacks a step beyond the typical pillaging that pirates reveled in—which could be horrible enough when taken too far—going so far as to kidnap young, healthy children from their homes. If these pirates were the infamous Serpent Pirate Crew, as I thought they were, then I had only one guess about what had happened to the children. That Crew was renowned for its ample supply of merchandise, all to serve the Southern Kingdoms’ slave markets. I'd hoped I'd seen the last of them during our brief battle with them while making the crossing to Auden

Several parents had come with their towns’ mayors to appeal for my aid. They’d cried for their lost children, begging for someone, anyone to bring their loved ones home or if possible, to avenge them.

I wanted to answer their pleas, but what could I do against pirates? As of yet, Auden had no navy. The ships that I’d taken from Ada’ir had long since been returned to their rightful owner. While I might have an army to guard coastal towns with, it wasn’t expansive enough to accomplish that duty while also patrolling the roads, fighting bandits, and searching for Doldimar, along with every other task I’d assigned them.

“You could always handle them yourself,” Nylion said, circling me to perch on the table.

With a faint smile, I subtly walked my fingers along the tabletop until they were tangled with Nylion’s. His suggestion was wise, but I didn’t know how I’d execute such a plan. The pirate’s point of origin was unknown, and I didn’t own a boat.

“You are the king of Auden, heart of my heart,” Nylion said with a laugh in his voice. “Commandeer one. As for the pirate base’s location, it cannot be far, considering how often they are raiding. The only landmasses that are large enough to sustain the settlement they would require are the three islands not far from Nephiron. The pirates could also be sailing from beyond the mountains, but I find that scenario unlikely. Nothing but frozen wastes lie to the north.”

Could what seemed like a complicated problem have such a simple solution? I couldn’t wait to find out. If this one had been unraveled so easily, perhaps others would be too, given time.

“Quill,” the Vasnavai said, breaking my reverie.

“Everything is in order?” I asked.

“Am asking for quill to sign with, nu?”

“Fair enough,” I said with a laugh.

Eledis presented the requested item, and after signing the bottom of the treaty’s final page, Vasnavai Dyomina slid it to me. I followed suit and in so doing, opened a trade avenue for Auden as well as linking my people with the Matvai.

“If finished with straenge Audish custom, maey we drink?” the Vasnavai asked. “Would like to celebrate our agreement by shaering glass of vodka.”

“Forgive me, Dyomina, but I must beg off,” I said with a grimace. “I have a personal matter to take care of this evening, but perhaps we can drink tomorrow.”

“I’ll huld you tu it, King Raimie,” Dyomina said.

When she stood, I followed her example, bowing as she made her exit.

Once we were alone, Eledis asked, “So, you remain intent on this foolishness?”

“I haven’t changed my mind since the last time you asked,” I said.

“This is a mistake…”

Gods, to be done with those ominous warnings. I knew how risky what I was doing tonight would be.

“Thank you for your opinion, Eledis,” I said, “but I believe I’m late for my next appointment."

With Nylion laughingly sprinting ahead of me, I raced out of the room, forcing Thumb into a run. I hadn’t been lying to my grandfather. My presence was required in the gardens by sunset, and the Sun was steadily approaching the horizon.

I wasn’t so far behind schedule, however, that I’d use Ele for speed. Not only would that be a waste, but it would leave Thumb behind, something I wasn’t the least bit tempted to try tonight.

I needed to make one stop before heading to the gardens. Taking a slight detour, I noisily rapped on my intended door once I’d arrived, and Ring soon answered, temporarily returned from her tour of Auden. She yanked me inside, slamming the door in Thumb’s face.

“Clothes off,” she demanded.

Already tugging on my jacket, she pulled me further into the room, and I slapped her hands off of me, skittering away from her.

“What are you-?” I said, blushing. “Ring, I don’t think-”

“Oh, Alouin, he’s modest. Of course he is,” Ring said under her breath. “Don’t worry, sir. You’re not my type. Please, take your clothes off. I need you in there.”

She pointed at a large tub, lugged from somewhere else in the palace and filled with sudsy water. Bent almost double, Nylion was snickering beside it with one hand covering his mouth.

“Please, this reluctance cannot be because of me. I have seen your every scar, heart of my heart,” he said. “And you should know that Ring does not want you in that way. She has ever been like our sister, in a way.”

I know that, I said. I can’t be sure if she does, though.

“A bath?” I asked Ring. “You want me to take a bath?”

But I must have already known the answer, given how I was fumbling with my jacket’s buttons.

“Trust me. It’ll be appreciated,” Ring said.

Thankfully, she faced the wall while I peeled off my uniform. I wasn’t exactly self-conscious of my body, but… there were parts of it that were less than ideal, through no fault of my own.

As I climbed into the tub, I made a face. Its water was lukewarm, a testament to how long my duties had run over today, but despite that, I sank in with a sigh.

“You can work your magic now,” I called.

Rolling up her sleeves, Ring strode toward me, soon sopped my hair with suds while I scrubbed my body down. Once I was finished, I climbed out of the tub, dripping water everywhere, and after I’d dried myself off, Ring handed me my new uniform. As I dressed, I noted the changes made to it.

On the collar, two embroidered dots—one black and one white—sat on the uniform’s midline. For years, I’d fought to have no insignia assigned to me, despite how much that might single me out at the same time, and while it couldn’t be helped in some cases, such as when a realm forced its throne upon me, I’d refused to accept visible symbols of my unique position.

I’d set aside my personal feelings about this, however, after my first meeting as king with my new ministers. During that meeting, I’d revealed my intention to organize a primeancer school, which had not gone over well. In the end, my ministers had made me agree to a single stipulation before approving my plan: a uniform and unique insignia to distinguish the school’s students from the average Eliskians and palace residents.

I despised the idea of differentiating people I’d promised safety to, especially when they already faced a constant threat of violence. Why make them stand out to norms who might harm them? But I couldn’t otherwise convince my ministers to finance and support an institution that I hoped would one day become a primeancer haven.

Singling out my fellow Ele and Daevetch users while concealing myself, however, had turned my stomach. So, when the next opportunity had come to have a new uniform tailored for me, I’d asked to have the primeancers’ insignia added to it.

I’d thought it would be big and gaudy, something to draw the eye, but this—I touched the bumps at my neck—I could live with this. Small, subtle, ignorable unless one knew what to seek, they could easily replace the lack of insignia that I’d grown fond of over the years.

The other change came in my weapons. My ragged belt had been replaced with freshly oiled leather, and my swords’ scabbards also shone as if recently fashioned. A line of obsidian ran down their bodies, glistening against leather, and caps of solid silver covered their chapes.

Yes, that was right. Scabbards, as in more than one.

“Why is this here?” I asked, dangling Shadowsteal between two fingers.

“Because it is ours?” Nylion said. “And we should be wearing it now.”

As she straightened my jacket’s hem, Ring said under her breath, “It was requested, sir, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint, would we?”

Making a face at them both, I buckled the cursed sword to my hip, trying to ignore the feel of it adding to Silverblade’s weight.

I knew what came next, so it was without prompting that I carefully folded into a pulled-out chair. Ring took a razor to my hair, smoothing it back with syrupy paste once she’d finished cutting it. Coming around to face me, she retrieved a kohl pencil, and I winced. I tried very hard not to blink or flinch while she lightly darkened my eyes’ outer corners before brushing the pencil’s tip across my lashes. Leaning back, she pursed her lips.

“Best I can do,” she breathed, slapping her knees. “Get out of here, sir, and good luck.”

“Thank you,” I said through a suddenly dry mouth.

I left her room in a rush, brushing past Thumb.

“You certainly smell nice, sir,” he said with a smirk, “and you’re carrying Shadowsteal. How delightful!”

Whirling, I poked a finger in the spy’s face.

“I will have you assigned to the most boring guard detail I can find if you don’t silently follow me to the gardens,” I said. “Am I understood?”

If anything, that widened Thumb’s smirk, but he nodded his acceptance.

And what do you think? I breathed.

I’d noticed Nylion eyeing me since I’d dried off, so I was more than a little nervous that my other half found something about this new ensemble off-putting.

“I think…”

Hurrying along the corridor, I glanced at my other half, confused about what I was feeling over our bond. With unfocused eyes, Nylion grinned at me.

“I think that I have never wanted a man but you…”

Sighing, Nylion hugged himself.

“You look nice, heart of my heart.”

And I smiled.

Chapter 85: All I've Wanted, Part Two

Raimie

When Nylion and I reached the gardens, the Sun was kissing the skyline. Thumb took up watch on the outskirts of Elisk’s mini forest, there to keep unwanted intruders at bay.

I headed for the gardens’ cliff side, in the opposite direction of the Matvai delegation’s campsite. Such bad memories lingered here. A loathsome mass of human remains was mixed in with the soil underfoot, but hopefully, what happened today would supplant the dark images currently floating in my head with brighter ones.

The tree line broke up ahead, and I flung a hand up to shield my eyes from the Sun’s piercing rays. Between my fingers, I noted the sky had acquired a rosy hue, and evening’s daily magic sprang to life, turning the air itself into a picture of beauty. Soon, dusk would fall, ending this enchantment, but we had this quarter mark of perfectly-pitched glow to enjoy first.

When my eyes had adjusted, I lowered my arm before sucking in a breath. Ren was grinning at me from the cliff’s edge, and I’d never seen anything lovelier. She’d arranged her black hair in loops and whirls with straggling strands dangling to frame her face, and light beamed through it, haloing it with an orange bloom. Ring must have painted her face at some point because black was rimming her gray eyes and her lips were apple red. 

She was wearing… I wasn’t sure what she was wearing.

A shiny, black fabric sheathed her body, accentuating every curve, but over that, a gossamer-thin, white fabric was delicately floating. Entangled in this outer layer, Ele bundles twinkled at me.

I raised questioning eyes to my friend. Rhylix was tense, probably due to his proximity to the nearby cliff, but he set aside his fear to acknowledge my curiosity and shake his head. If my friend wasn’t supplying the Ele in Ren’s dress, who was?

“Gods, she is beautiful,” Nylion said, “but… why is she making that face?”

His question and the tilt of Rhylix’s head toward Ren had me focusing on her again. Her smile had begun to falter, which had my heartbeat skipping, and in an instant, I was beside her, clasping her hands.

“You’re stunning,” I said, stabilizing her grin.

“Not bad yourself, hot stuff,” she said. “It’s illusion work, by the way. The dress is, I mean. I don’t have access to a full-blood Eselan’s magic, but what I can do, I’m damn good at, as you can see.”

Yet another example of why I loved her. Recognizing my curiosity, she’d known it would gnaw at me until she explained. Leaning forward, I kissed the tip of her nose.

“Thank you.”

Ren flushed a dark red, incoherently mumbling.

“I guess that means both of you are sure about this,” Rhylix said with a laugh.

Raising an eyebrow, I mouthed at Ren, ‘Even with Nylion?’

We’d discussed my other half in excess over the last month, including the recent developments between us. Those talks had been awkward and halting, and I still half-expected her to run away from the conundrum that was me.

But she simply smiled and mouthed.

‘Even then.’

So together, Ren and I said, “I’m sure.”

Which of course, sent us into a giggling fit, one that had our hands tightening around one another, and Nylion hesitantly laid one of his over the bundle for a brief second before withdrawing. I wanted to call him back, but before I could, Rhylix rolled his eyes.

“Sickeningly adorable,” he said. “If you can control yourselves, we can begin.”

He gave us two, blood-red sticks, each a few inches long.

“When you’re ready, break the package,” he said, “but be aware that once the process has begun, nothing can stop it. You’ll be Joined for life.”

Accepting the proffered item, I asked, “You’re sure this will work?”

“You survived a Joining with me in Allanovian. This one will be far more intense and permanent, but I see no reason for it to fail,” Rhylix said. “Why? Having second thoughts?”

None. Meeting Ren’s eyes, I lifted a slender stick, distilled from her blood, and after breaking it, I breathed her in.

Her life rushed by in fits and starts. Most of the pauses involved her brother.

Rhylix, telling her impossible stories. Rhylix, amazing her with displays of white light. Her, admonishing Rhylix’s supposedly invisible shadows.

A few I’d already seen.

She clings, sobbing, to the brother she thought long dead.

Others, I hadn’t.

Kylorian twirls her in a circle, peppering her head with kisses. Dury praises her for her accuracy with throwing knives. An unfamiliar boy whispers sweet nothings in her ear before silencing her giggle with a kiss, and she succumbs to long-repressed passion.

A bittersweet lash had accompanied the last two. The first of these, I understood. After the beating he’d received during the investiture, Tanwadur was still clinging to life, and Rhylix had privately told me that the leader of Tiro’s prospects were grim. Of course sorrow accompanied the joyful memory of her adoptive father. It easily overshadowed my own vindictive pleasure at that horrid man's change of fortune.

As for the second, I was at a loss. I couldn’t help my own, irrational flash of jealousy, even knowing the memory had come long before me. Perhaps that relationship had ended poorly, and its disastrous culmination was why Ren viewed what should have been a happy memory with an odd mixture of regret. Curiosity nagged at me, but it was swept away by the insistent flow of her memories.

Surprisingly, the ones that lasted the longest centered around me.

She follows the strange boy, hardly daring to hope, and caresses the hilts of her eshvik for when he proves himself a liar. Once more, the boy nearly trips with his clumsiness almost amusing, and a smile tugs at her lips. Eventually, the boy drags her name out of her, and soon after, a pop breaks the forest’s stillness. Someone pins her to a tree, but before she can resist the hold, her new enemy’s face registers. It’s older, more weathered, but definitely her brother. The boy didn’t lie.

She watches Raimie practicing his forms in the sand. His level of blade mastery is impressive, considering where he comes from. Leisurely running her eyes over the uniform that he’s wearing, she can almost imagine him as a fabled soldier from the old Audish army. In the middle of a spin, Raimie notices her, and as if prompted by her presence, his form adapts and changes, shifting into a graceful dance. For some reason, this has her heart quickening in her chest, but Rhylix has to go and ruin it, yelling for Raimie’s attention.

As she tells him about how his soldiers survived the recent battle, Raimie’s eyes glisten. Their wellbeing genuinely concerns him, and that depth of compassion gives her the courage that she’s been seeking over the last few days. She pulls him to her, and when their lips come together, she knows. He’s the one she’ll spend her life chasing.

A series of snapshots followed.

Introducing Raimie to Sigemond, her closest confidant. Hiking outside Tiro’s walls while listening to him ramble about this forest’s similarities to his homeland. Watching him grow to love her country and her people, slowly incorporating more of them into his ‘family’. Wondering what tragedy befell him that he needs a replacement for his blood kin. Joining him in morning training sessions and laughing when her triumph in sparring contests surprises him. Working to surmount the ever-present barrier that prevents her initial touch from eliciting anything but fear. Relief that he wants her despite the harm she did to him and the years that have passed. Her heart in her throat when he returns from Qena in a wagon and she thinks him a corpse. Furtive meetings during his recovery where they make plans and he talks about the other man in his head.

The Joining should have ended with those memories. Rhylix had taken samples from each of us soon after those meetings, one he’d thought I was stable enough to part with more of my life’s blood. It didn’t conclude, however, moving beyond that last memory with ease.

A dreamlike state spilled over me, and I became Raimie-Ren, a state that I was quite familiar with, if not with her. We watched our loved one emerge from the jungle, squinting and shielding his eyes, and oh, he was beautiful. Ring had done a marvelous job. We’d have to thank her for it later, especially for convincing our stubborn man to wear the sword that he loathed. We knew that eventually, he’d need Shadowsteal, and despite his reluctance, he needed practice with it if he was to survive Doldimar’s eventual return.

That was a time far into the future, though. For now, our man lowered his hand and blinked at us, and we blushed at the look passing over his face. With the sun shining directly on him, we knew how he must feel. We needed him to move closer, closer, so we could oh-so-carefully caress his face, complete the Joining, and find somewhere quiet where we could be alone together.

The scene skipped, and he stood across from us, absently holding the broken ends of his powdered blood stick. His eyes were wide with his face slack, and we momentarily worried that the Joining had fried his mind, despite our brother’s assurances, but his brilliant, blue eyes soon focused on us. Stepping closer, he leaned down and oh, oh, OH! All was right with the world because we were one and we’d never need anything but each other and… and… one more of us. The world and its problems could die with a whimper because together, we were stronger than the world.

The world must have taken offense to that thought because it lurched. Suddenly, solitary Raimie was kissing solitary Ren, and while this felt nice, it was a faint shadow of what we’d been. We broke apart, gasping, and steadying us, Rhylix chuckled.

“That was…” Nylion whispered nearby. “We had that when we were children, did we not? It is like that one time in your study. Heart of my heart, we have to-”

Get it back, I growled. We HAVE to get it back.

Abruptly, my bad leg protested how long I’d been standing on it, and I wobbled in place. Rhylix helped me to the ground with Ren kneeling beside me.

“Give it a moment. You’ll feel like you’re back to normal soon enough,” Rhylix said. “And congratulations. By Eselan standards, you’re married.”

His footsteps retreated toward the palace, leaving us alone. The Sun’s crown had yet to disappear behind the horizon, and while dusk steadily encroached on us, it hadn’t erased the play of colors in the sky. I offered Ren my hand, and she curled hers around it, scooting closer to lean against me. We stayed there for a while, watching the sunset, until I gathered the courage to speak.

“I hate to ask this, given what just happened,” I said. “But I need… I have to…”

I couldn’t finish the request, but Ren merely squeezed my hand.

“You need to speak with him privately?” she asked. “I don’t mind. Do what you need to, Raimie, and once you’re finished, know I’ll be here.”

Gods, I didn’t deserve her.

“Wait,” Nylion said. “You need to speak with me? About what?”

Ignoring him, I gestured at Ren’s lap, and when she nodded, I laid my head in it, closing my eyes.

When I entered our shared dream space, Nylion was FREAKING OUT with his hands in his hair while he rapidly paced. He was muttering under his breath, a litany I tried not to hear, but it was kind of hard not to.

“What am I going to do? I thought we were making progress. I thought it was coming soon. Gods, he will reject me, and I have no fucking clue what I will do if he-”

“Nyl. Really. I’m not rejecting you.”

Slowly getting to my feet, I stretched, advancing on Nylion, and when I was close enough, I draped my arms around my other half’s neck with our faces close enough that we could kiss, if I’d stretched a teensy bit more.

“I will NEVER reject you,” I said. “Do you hear me, silly? Never, ever, not in a hundred million years. I remember what being without you is like. I have fucking nightmares about it, so please. Don’t worry about that.”

Bit by bit, anxiety seeped from Nylion until it was gone, and he heaved an enormous sigh.

“Ok,” he said. “What do you want to tell me, then?”

Smirking, I said, “First.”

I closed the distance, gentle in the press of my lips against his, but Nylion was having none of that. Tangling his fingers in my hair, he pulled our bodies together, and a tongue traced the crease of my lips. Gods, it would be so easy to give in, to open my mouth and let this take the course that we’d established over the last month, but I didn’t want that. I needed to say this, damnit, no matter how much it scared the shit out of me.

Digging my hands into Nylion’s shoulders, I insistently pulled him away, wincing at the look on his face.

“We have to save it,” I said. “Who knows how what happens in this place translates to the real world and Ren…”

For the briefest of moments, Nylion went still, widening his eyes far too much, and- and I heard a faint, couldn’t-be-real voice whispering something I refused to hear, but before I could think to question either of these things, my other half was tilting his head to the side.

“You are right, of course,” he said. “So, again I ask. What do you want to tell me?”

Taking one of Nylion’s hands, I brushed my knuckles along my other half’s cheekbone, pausing at the crest.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently,” I said. “Something I’ve been unconsciously considering since our memories first returned to me but haven’t put serious contemplation into until Qena.”

“Ok…?” Nylion said.

And gods, that apprehensive guardedness. It was so Nylion, no matter how much I wished it wasn’t. I pulled him to me.

“I love you, Nyl,” I said. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say.”

“You…”

“Love you.”

I ducked to brush kisses around Nylion’s neck and jaw.

“Like I love Ren.”

Gently, I sucked on Nylion’s shoulder, curving my lips on his skin when he gasped and clutched at me. When I pulled away, I smirked at the splotched, red mark I’d left behind before meeting Nylion’s eyes.

“I love you,” I said. “No matter what that means about me. No matter how strange other people might find it. I love you, Nyl. Heart and mind and essence.”

I was afraid that Nylion would faint from hyperventilation, but in a spike of initiative, he kissed me, firmly. With teeth grinding against lips. 

In increments, he backed off, making a small cave between our faces when he leaned his forehead against mine.

“I love you too, heart of my heart,” he said. “And I am more grateful than you will ever know that you have finally remembered this.”

For a long while, we simply held one another, and maybe, MAYBE, one of us cried into the other’s shoulder, but if it was so, neither of us was telling.

Eventually, I said, “Shall we return to Ren?”

Nylion hesitated with his breathing hitching.

“Yes,” he said, “I suppose it is only fair.”

“I did just marry her,” I said with a smile.

Pushing me away, Nylion rolled his eyes.

“Gods, you are insufferable at times,” he said. “Go on, then. Return us to the waking world.”

And as I’d learned how to do over the last few months, that was what I did.

I woke up in Ren’s lap, watching her watch the sunset. As stars popped into view, I squeezed her hand, and she glanced down at me with a smile.

Gingerly climbing to my feet, I helped Ren stand, noting Nylion waiting as far from me as he could get. We silently strolled to the palace, arm in arm, with Thumb trailing us. When we reached the room that I’d claimed, though, I firmly closed the door behind us, blocking the spy out.

Ren critically inspected my accommodations, wrinkling her nose, but I couldn’t blame her. My obsidian box with only a narrow bed to fill it wasn’t impressive.

“Where will you take her?” Nylion asked.

You’ll see, I said in a sing-song voice.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get us something more fitting soon enough,” I told Ren.

Igniting a gas lamp, I stepped into the shadows that it cast.

“In the meantime, we have other options.”

I beckoned her forward, but she only stared at me uncertainly.

“Ren,” I sighed, “don’t you trust me?”

My challenge moved her forward, and tightly wrapping her in my arms, I let the shadows take us.

Chapter 86: All I Suffered

Raimie

 

The journey was much shorter this time. In the last month, I’d made it many times when Rhylix hadn’t been around. Always when my friend hadn’t been looking.

When Ren and I stumbled out of the shadows and a burning freeze greeted us, however, I knew I’d misjudged something. Desperately scanning our surroundings through a curtain of snow, I yelped with relief at the sight of a nearby mound.

“Sorry, I overshot,” I yelled. “Follow me?”

When I offered her my hand again, Ren slowly unwound one arm from hugging warmth to her stomach, and I was relieved to see her grinning despite her chattering teeth. We raced across the frozen tundra, giggling like children at the icy kisses that each flake left on our skin, and Nylion followed, laughing with us as he tried to dodge the snow. We’d returned to our origin, the winter of our courting. The only missing element was the furtiveness of our excursions, and I missed that not one bit.

The mound loomed ahead of us, and I circled it until I found what I needed. Clearing frost off of glass, I pressed my near frozen palm against a rectangular surface.

And nothing happened. Oh, no. Had I broken it the last time I’d been here? I’d been rough while searching the place, discarding caution in my urgent need to find warmth.

Before I could panic, the glass panel lit up, and lines of neon blue and purple raced away from it to outline a rectangular shape, hidden beneath the snow pile. The mound rumbled, and snow fell into the gaping mouth of the cave materializing beneath it.

I led Ren inside. Once we’d crossed the threshold, the blizzard’s freezing cold vanished, to be replaced with a comfortable warmth, and thicker bands of purple and blue streaked at timed intervals down a smooth hallway, disappearing into the earth.

“Raimie, how did we get here? You never answered me about that after the investiture,” Ren whispered. “And where are we? What is this place?”

“We’re in the north, past the Matvai homeland. I found this place during negotiations with them. The Matvai are a… ponderous people. Making decisions of any kind takes them ages, and so, I did a lot of exploring in my spare time,” I said. “As for how we got here, well. We shade melded.”

“Shade melded?” Ren echoed.

“Primeancer skill. I’ll tell you all about it later,” I said. “In the meantime…”

As the hallway opened in front of us, Ren stopped short, and I watched her, afraid she might collapse. I’d nearly done so myself when I’d first visited this place. 

This ruin contained mindboggling wonders, marvels that dried the mouth and weakened the knees. Lines of blue and purple streaked out of the hallway and over the cavernous room’s walls, but that fascinating display paled against the chamber’s ornaments.

When I was sure Ren wouldn’t collapse, I walked to the fire burning in the center of the room, unbuckling my weapon’s belt to lean it against a wall. When I’d visited in the past, I’d always found it easiest to first focus on the room’s least strange features, and that was the fire. Even if it never extinguished, even if it refused to burn my skin, it still produced heat, crackled, and flickered like a fire should. I draped my jacket over the low-to-the-ground railing that surrounded it, letting my clothing dry while I waited for Ren to adjust.

Next came the second least strange wonder. I sank onto the chamber’s bed, pulling my boots off, and its bouncy surface conformed to me, whisking away the moisture coating my trousers without prompting, When I got up to place my boots beside my jacket, the bed returned to a flat platform with nary a wrinkle in the single blanket atop it.

A consortium of boxy devices covered one of the room’s walls. I had yet to gather the courage needed to figure out what each of them did, but I did know, from the one night I’d slept here, that a smaller cube magically produced food in the morning, and shortly afterward, a person-sized box spewed soapy water from a nozzle inside for a short time.

Pure, white light illuminated every surface of the black-walled room, and while pulling my soaked undershirt over my head, I accidentally caught a glimpse of its source. The ceiling stretched far above me, and in that open, black space, globes were hanging without support. They floated in place with no tangible buoy to stop them from plummeting to the floor, but this phenomenon wasn’t what unnerved me.

Each of those white globes was a hardened, crystallized Ele ball. Bright called them ‘purified samples of the whole’s life force’, the same thing that had once been folded into Shadowsteal’s blade. It was what allowed the sword to destroy Daevetch splinters. Whatever the globes might be, they made my skin crawl, so I avoided looking at them as much as possible.

The strangest of the room’s oddities was saved for last, but it was the one I’d grown to love the most. When first entering the room, the image might be disconcerting because from the hall, the far wall appeared to have been obliterated. A void had replaced it, an abyss replete with millions of brilliant stars and one, huge ball of orange fire.

“It’s not real,” I said. “If you come closer, you’ll find distortions in its glass. It’s a picture of something that Dim tells me is called ‘outer space’.”

Glancing back, I winced. Ren had become a petrified statue, stuck in the threshold.

“Not the reaction we wanted,” Nylion said.

Sighing, I gently guided her inside.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” I said, adding my undershirt to the steadily growing pile by the fire, “but I thought it would be better than my room, and I don’t know. I thought you might like it. A few years back, you mentioned a desire to explore the northern ruins, but you weren’t exactly sober at the time. Maybe I read too much into what you said.”

Clutching at my arm, Ren wordlessly shook her head.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed.

Turning toward her, I said, “Really? Because this isn’t my only refuge.”

Ren's hold on my arm unexpectedly accelerated my turn, which had the bedside painfully bumping into my legs. Losing my balance, I tumbled onto the bed.

Unnerving Ele globes glared at me from above while weight settled on my hips, pinning my arms to my sides. Ren’s smaller hands grabbed my cheeks, lifting my head to meet her lips, before moving to my bare chest. My head flopped against the bed’s single sheet, and all the while, I fought to silence the shrieking, distinctly feminine voice that was somehow both in my head and not.

“This is wrong, this is wrong, THIS IS WRONG!”

I didn't understand it. Ren and I had cuddled like this before, even if she was acting slightly more urgent than other times. Why did I want her to back the hell off for a moment? Where was Nylion to help with that, as he'd done in the past?

While working at my trousers’ clasp, Ren raked a fingernail across my belly, and that minute ripple of pain was enough to send me tumbling into animalistic terror. I didn’t matter that she was Ren, and I was safe. All I knew was DANGER, DANGER!

Instinctively, I called for Daevetch, bucking her off of me, and blindly crawling off of the bed, I stumbled toward warmth. I barely made it to the fire pit before the stew that I’d eaten for dinner returned as mushy mash.

When my stomach had finished heaving, I curled, panting, into as small of a ball as I could manage, and crouching across from me, Nylion waited, accepting my hand when I eventually reached out. That contact was enough to still my whirling thoughts, but as soon as they’d calmed down, questions replaced them.

Why the fuck had I panicked like that? Why had it happened so quickly? I was used to a certain amount of fear when Ren touched me, but this version of it had been unreasonable. For gods’ sake, I’d been imagining a scene exactly like what had been happening with relish when considering what tonight might entail. What the fuck was wrong with me?

A water skin descended into my field of view, and I sharply glanced at Ren. She wasn’t hurt, thank Alouin, but her face had closed off.

Accepting the water skin, I sat up.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Water washed the taste of vomit out of my mouth while Ren folded to the floor beside me.

“We need to talk about this,” she said. “You’ve always cringed if I touch you when you’re not expecting it, but Raimie… Is it just me, or do you have this violent of a reaction with other people too?”

I buried my face in my knees.

“It’s not just you,” I said, uncaring of how muffled my voice has become. “Every other woman who’s expressed an interest in the last two years… it usually ends like this, although nothing’s ever gotten that far before.”

After a moment, Ren cleared her throat.

“Given everything you’ve expressed about Nylion, have you considered that you might be—”

She took a deep breath.

“—of a different persuasion?”

Different persuasion? The hell was that supposed to mean?

“She wants to know if you would rather sleep with a man than with her,” Nylion said.

I shot my head up.

“No! No, that’s not it,” I said. “Nylion is… Nylion, and I want you, only… I don’t know. When you get aggressive, something in me just… reacts. I don’t know why.”

“Raimie, that’s how I am,” Ren said. “Impulsive. Aggressive at times. When we’re intimate, I can work with you, help you feel comfortable. I don’t mind at all, but I need to know why you react in such a violently rejecting manner sometimes. It makes me feel… unwanted.”

Which I didn’t want.

I curled even tighter on myself than I’d thought I could.

“I DON’T KNOW!” I yelled into the tiny pocket of air between my knees.

It echoed and echoed and echoed in this enormous chamber, and I heard the helplessness in it, heard my frustration over the years. Why did women sometimes scare the shit out of me? I liked women. Some of my favorite people were women. So why…?

“Would you like to know?” Nylion asked.

Slowly, I raised my head until I could peer over my arms.

“I can share if you are ready,” Nylion continued.

Leaning back on his hands, he was indifferently staring at the picture of space at our side, but I could feel the anxiety and wariness that my other half was feeling right now.

“You know why?” I said regardless.

Nodding, Nylion said, “It was part of our childhood agreement, remember? I shield you from damaging knowledge, and in return, you let me have control of our body at times. What you want to know about is what damaged us the most, that I know about at least. One of those ‘splinters in the mind’ that Rhylix once told you about, long ago.”

A splinter of the mind? Another one? The absolutely giant fucking shard of one that I’d run across after the Birthing Grounds hadn’t been enough?

Before I ducked my head back below my arms, I barely caught Nylion’s flinch, but still, it froze me solid. He was terrified on the other side of our bond. I could feel it beating against an invisible wall he’d raised between us, and I hated that. So, no. I couldn’t run away from this, no matter how much I might want to.

In increments, I started uncurling from my ball.

“If it’s so damaging, why would you offer to tell me about it now?” I hesitantly asked.

“You have matured,” Nylion said with a shrug. “You are prepared to accept the reality of our childhood. I think. I hope.”

Should I seek answers for something that my other half, my constant protector, thought of as dangerous? Sure, I couldn’t run away from the fact that apparently, something else had been stuck in my head, affecting my present-day self, while I remained ignorant of what it was, but I didn’t have to find out the details of it now. Nylion had asked me if I wanted to know. He’d asked, so I could say no. I could live with this peculiarity I experienced at a woman’s touch, learning to quell my panicked reactions as much as possible, but doing that could take years. 

Years in which Ren might blame herself for causing every one of my flinches. Could I inflict that on her, simply for my peace of mind? Looking at her expectant face, I knew what my answer to that question would be.

“Tell me.”

“You should let her hear it from my lips, heart of my heart,” Nylion said. “It would be more efficient, and… do you trust me?”

Frowning at him, I said, I LOVE you, dumbass. Of course I trust you.

I readily relinquished control to him, but this time, I didn’t retreat to our shared dream space when the world snapped.

May I touch her? Nylion said.

Why would he ask such a thing? Wasn’t the answer obvious?

“You are me, and I am you, and we are we, Nyl,” I said. “She’s your wife too.”

Nylion paused with something strange flooding across our bond before scooting closer to Ren. He reached for her hands, but before taking them, he met her eyes.

“So we are clear,” he said, “Nylion is in control now.”

“Oh, I know,” Ren said with a smile. “I saw the switch, clear as day.”

She took our hands, and relaxing, Nylion folded into a cross-legged position.

“How do I begin?” he said. “What would be the easiest way-?”

Squeezing our hands, Ren said, “Just tell him.”

So, taking a deep breath, Nylion began.

“Do you remember the bruises and scrapes that we hid under our clothes when we were kids, Raimie?”

“The ones we got during particularly bad training sessions, yes?” I said.

Nylion shook our head, sighing long and loud.

“They were not from weapons masters or tutors,” he said. “They were mother’s gifts.”

Opposite us, Ren gasped, but I barely noticed that. Inside our mind, I giggled. That wasn’t right. Mama had told me stories at bedtime. Mama had kissed my forehead before blowing out the candle. Mama had called me her beautiful boy. She’d never lay a hand on me in anger. I didn’t know what Nylion was talking about but-

“No. She wouldn’t have done that. Not with you,” he said. “Never you. Except for the accident when we first told her about us. And except for the incident when we were five. We had finished a history lesson, but because I was distracting you, we had not performed well. Our mother unexpectedly showed up at the end of the lesson, long enough to observe our behavior. After sending the tutor home, she proceeded to beat your knuckles and back bloody with his ruler, and I do mean you. We had not made our agreement yet. I suppose she had finally had enough of NylRaimie.”

“That’s not… how I remember it,” I uncertainly said.

Uncertainly because what I’d said wasn’t necessarily true. I did remember the lesson in question, just as I remembered mama nursing me afterward, but the rest was a giant blank.

“I isolated the memory from you as part of the agreement we made that night. I promised to take the brunt of our mother’s fury from then on, and I would have been content with keeping it solely at that,” Nylion said. “You are my dearest friend, Raimie. The one I will always love. The heart of my shattered heart. I would do anything for you without expecting a reward, but you insisted on repaying me. You promised me freedom and remarkably, found a way to give it to me. Because of you, I can walk this world on our feet, and when it is my turn, I make the decisions. Such small autonomy is more than I ever expected.”

I half-listened to him, filing away everything he’d said for later review and reaction, but for now, I was caught on the idea that the countless nights when I’d cried myself to sleep because of cracked ribs and welts had been because of mama. How did that reconcile with what I knew about her? Did I trust that Nylion was telling the…?

He’d never lied to me. Why would I think he’d do that now? What possible reason could he have for doing such a thing in the first place?

“If it helps, I do not believe she hated you,” Nylion said. “I think something was deeply wrong with her. She used to scream at me, blaming me for her inability to go home. I always found that baffling. Where is home, if not with family?”

But if mama had been abusive toward us, wouldn’t someone have caught her? Wouldn’t I have noticed?

“We hid the damage to our body so the average person would not see it. Father was constantly away on Hand business, and when he was home, our mother behaved herself. His ignorance is understandable, if not forgivable. Eledis knew. He simply did not care. Whatever motivated us to become better tools in his hand was acceptable in his book,” Nylion says. “As for you, Raimie, why do you think you picture me so battered and broken?”

No. It wasn’t- I didn’t want to see this. I didn’t want to know this. NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no….

“Help!” Nylion grunted.

He shoved a palm against our temple, and the pressure on our other hand, the one Ren was holding, strengthened. Addled, I fought to focus on those loving, gray eyes.

“Raimie, it’s in the past. I’m so sorry, but the damage is already done,” Ren said. “We know the problem. We can work together to heal this wound, and even if… even if we can’t., please understand, my love. I’m here for you, come what may.”

She was here. She was here, and she was… right. That mama had beaten us every day from the ages of five to nine didn’t matter, not in the long run. I knew I’d have to work through a lot of absolute shit, now that I knew more about my life but right now? I had Ren. And back then, I’d had Nylion, both to love me—as a mother unconditionally should—and protect me-

“Oh, my gods, Nyl!” I whispered. “What she did to you!”

My other half shrugged.

I am your protector, he said. I was doing my job.

“Thank you,” I said.

Everything about me was filled with a gratitude so intense that those words couldn’t hope to convey it, but Nylion felt it through our bond. He could tell exactly what I meant.

Between us, there is never a need for thanks, heart of my heart, Nylion said. You would have done the same for me if our roles were reversed.

“I would. I always would, Nyl,” I said. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it. Please know that.”

I didn’t know how Nylion showed himself in the waking world when he was in our head, but desperately, I saw myself kneeling beside my other half. I saw my arms around Nylion’s shoulders. I saw us breathing in time together, reaching across our bond to one another.

And for an instant, we melded, savoring the union of two become one. For an instant, our bond was as strong as it had ever been.

“That promise goes for you too, Nyl,” Ren said.

Unknowingly breaking our merge, she leaned toward us, nuzzling our neck.

“Come what may, I’m here.”

Our body fell still, not even blinking.

“What?” Nylion said.

“You’re part of Raimie, and Raimie’s part of you, right?” Ren said. “When I agreed to be your wife, I agreed to be your wife. I didn’t just Join with Raimie. I Joined with you too, Nylion."

“I saw everything. The days stuck behind his eyes. The time trapped in your mind after your mother gave him medicine. The years become eons spent in solitude, waiting for him to rescue you. I saw it all, although you managed to keep the worst of it from me. Just as you and Raimie have lived my life, I have lived yours, and… I love you both.”

“Told you,” I said.

Even still, there was a difference between knowing this truth and hearing it spoken aloud. I didn’t know what to do with the sheer relief rushing through me, but I tried to keep it to myself, if only because Nylion seemed to be having just as intense of a reaction to Ren’s words. Tears—something I’d never known Nylion to waste—were spilling from our eyes, splashing unobstructed to the floor.

“I- I do not know what to say,” he whispered.

Kissing our knuckles, Ren stood.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ren said, “but when the two of you are ready, can you ask Raimie if he minds whether you go first?”

What does she mean? Nylion asked.

And all I could do was laugh. Alouin, good gods above, but I loved this woman.

“Tell her I said not at all,” I gasped.

“He says he does not mind,” Nylion repeated. “Why would he mind-?”

He cut off as the gossamer outer layer of Ren’s dress puffed into smoke, leaving behind a long sheath of black silk. Together, we marveled while she wriggled free of it. Fabric flowed to the floor, and she was all skin with a backdrop of space and Sun to frame her.

Extending a hand to us, Ren said, "When and if you're ready. I'd like to try a few things."

For a moment, I could feel Nylion's hesitation. Something I couldn't name was still bothering him, and while that in turn bothered me, I also wasn't sure how much more I could handle from him, of the unsettling variety at least. As I had moments before, I pictured myself standing beside Ren, offering him my hand as well.

"Come on," I softly said. "Just like we've done before. But with her."

Uncertainly eyeing me, Nylion slowly reached out. Ren took his hand, drawing him toward the bed with every move slow and gentle, and I settled in to watch. As she kissed him. As she pulled the rest of our clothes off of him. As she showed him exactly what to do to make both of their backs arch with pleasure.

I didn’t mind waiting. My turn would come soon enough.

Interlude 3.1: Caution

King of Auden

 

2nd of Fourth, 3476

Since my father’s death involved much more frothing at the mouth, convulsing, and other symptoms associated with arsenic ingestion than I’d originally thought, whoever is in charge of my safety has decided that I need a special bodyguard. Apparently, the guards stationed throughout the palace aren’t good enough.

I haven’t had time to learn as much as I’d like about who will hold the unenviable position of keeping me alive. My life has become a whirlwind of introductions, and although I was initially wary of a suggestion made by a man who let someone poison my father, I’ve decided that he must not be totally incompetent after meeting the Eselan summoned to take charge of my protection.

Yes, you read that right, whoever you are that’s spying on this journal. An Eselan bodyguard. One of their infamous Zrelnach, in fact.

The thing is, unlike with the other Esela I’ve met, I rather like this one. He doesn’t look down his nose at me or otherwise make me feel like a bug. He has a sense of humor, which is a quality that the Esela generally seem to lack, and when I asked, he was more than happy to teach me some of his order’s famous fighting style. He was also close friends with Illasaya when she was princess of Lyzencroft, and he makes my boys laugh, something that always put the comedian into my good graces.

Most importantly, he’s already saved my life once. Soon after his arrival, I was attacked by a raving lunatic with Daevetch swarming under her skin. I have no idea how the woman got into the palace and past so many guards, but while I was still in the process of comprehending the fact that she was rushing at me with a knife, my new bodyguard lunged between us. He quickly beheaded her, sheathed his blade, and bowed to me, apologizing for allowing her to come so close. 

I’m still not sure why he felt the need to apologize. He did his job, which is all that matters to me.

I suppose I should mention who he is, besides a Zrelnach. His name is Emir, and he’s the son of the Eselan emissary, who I’ve always despised. Ironic, right?

8th of Thirteenth, 3476

This will be my last entry.

Ring has come to a conclusion about who killed my father, and the perpetrator wasn’t an assassin from a foreign nation, as we suspected. It wasn’t a member of the heretical Matvai to the north. No, the killer was someone much closer to home.

Ever since Nebailie returned to the palace a few years ago, my mother has been getting increasingly erratic. While my brother was serving in the army, I thought that maybe, just maybe, she and my father would mend fences, allowing past mistakes to stay in the past, but then, my father summoned ‘bailie home.

The day he returned to the palace, my parents broke into a screaming match, the likes of which I’d never heard from them before. People on the far side of the palace could have heard them! Or so I thought at the time. In the end, my father won that argument, as he always did, but his victory didn’t last.

Months passed with no further family drama. My father, ‘bailie, and I assumed that my mother had accepted the situation, learning to deal with my bastard brother living in the palace once more.

We were very wrong.

My mother had spent those months quietly scheming and plotting, acquiring and preparing her poison of choice. Essentially, she was planning how to kill my father.

And that’s why this will be my last entry. Since my eighth birthday, my mother has given me these journals every year, but she’s broken from that tradition, giving me something different for my thirtieth birthday.

For you see, she’s ensured that my first official act as king will be to decide whether to put my mother, the woman who murdered my father, to death.

10th of Thirteenth, 3476

It’s done. My mother is dead. I did what I had to.

23rd of Thirteenth, 3477

I know that I said I’d never write in you again, but time has passed, wounds have healed, and I’ve changed. And I need this place of respite more than ever.

I met the Eselan diplomat again today. When he last visited Elisk, he returned home after weeks of delayed meetings, leaving Emir, his son, to serve as my bodyguard.

Have I mentioned how different those two are? How one is intolerable, and the other is—dare I say it—my friend?

In any case, the insufferable bastard returned today, and I couldn’t fabricate an excuse to keep from seeing him. During our meeting, he was—how do I put this politely?—haggard. His eyes were so wild and that frazzled hair! 

And his desperation! In the two years since I took the throne, no one has ever come to me in such distress.

He told me about the terror that’s plaguing his people’s Haven: the Eselan, touched by madness, who’s leading a band of near deathless monsters. They’ve pillaged even the most well defended of settlements, leaving no one alive once they’re through. Several months ago, Lyzencroft sent aid to the Haven at the bequest of its leaders, and now, months later, the great, decidedly human nation might just crumble before this scourge.

I knew the contents of the diplomat’s woeful tale before he spun it. Auden isn’t without its scouts and spies. So, when rumors about the Haven’s gradual destruction first trickled into my court, I considered sending soldiers to help. In the end, I decided I wouldn’t interfere in foreign politics, and if the diplomat’s claims about Lyzencroft are true, it seems I’ve made the right choice. I didn’t know my wife’s former homeland was in such dire straits.

What also came as news to me are three facts about the terror who’s already decimated half the continent. One is that apparently, he’s a powerful, Daevetch primeancer. 

I don’t know how likely I find that. Since my father, no primeancers have surfaced in our world, none that we know of at least, but the diplomat vehemently insisted that his people’s opponent is in fact a Daevetch primeancer.

Second, he plans to march on Auden. I suppose two conquered kingdoms aren’t enough for him. If this is true, I wish him luck with his designs on my kingdom, even if he can access Daevetch. Auden has stood for centuries, despite numerous threats against it. I doubt our current one will blemish that record.

Lastly, I have a name for the threat. Since my father died and my mother was executed, I’ve been unconsciously looking for an adversary to take their place. Ministers and diplomats have proven to be poor substitutes, not when they aren’t a real threat. Maybe this one will be. So, his name.

My enemy’s name is Doldimar.

Interlude 3.2: Caution

King of Auden

 

11th of Third, 3478

Forget my doubts. Forget my bravado. The enemy is indeed a primeancer, and Auden is doomed.

We joined him in combat on the Lyzencroft-Matvai border. I thought the battle would be simple. The soldiers had their orders to behead the enemy when possible, and we had the high ground. It should have been an easy victory.

Instead, it was a slaughter. By themselves, Doldimar’s monstrous, deathless soldiers might have tipped the scales in the enemy’s favor, but with the primeancers at his command, our defeat was inevitable.

They can instantaneously move from one side of the battlefield to the other, carving through plate-mailed men and horses like they’re made of paper.

Doldimar wasn’t even with his army. Instead, a pair of his lieutenants, Teron and Xiki, harried our forces, even as we retreated. The men looked to me to drive those two off, supposed Ele primeancer that I am, and I could do nothing.

We are doomed. Unless we can find a way to appease Doldimar, everyone in my wretched kingdom will die, and it will be my fault-

 

“Your Majesty, are you paying attention?”

Lifting my quill from the paper, I glanced at the faces expectantly gazing back at me.

“You’re discussing the status of our reserves,” I said.

“Since the conflict has morphed into a drawn-out war after the Battle of Eadochas Valley—”

I inwardly cringed. They’d already given that travesty a name?

“—calling on the reserves seems only right. Best to prepare for the worst, no?”

Which minister was making this suggestion? Since I’d taken the throne, their number had exponentially grown, to the point that I could no longer keep track of who controlled what around here.

“Why would there be more fighting?” I wearily asked, deciding to address the entire assembly rather than one minister alone.

“Doldimar’s forces are already harassing our border towns, which is a perfect replica of what happened to Lyzencroft. If we don’t nip it in the bud now, Auden will fall.”

I knew this speaker: Nebailie, my brother. The one who’d stood with me in the Valley. Who’d argued against the retreat that I’d ordered.

“I plan to treat with Doldimar,” I said. “We’ll see if we can’t find some room for a compromise before inciting further violence by drawing on the reserves.”

The room went very quiet, save for some nervous shuffling.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but that’s a terrible idea,” Nebailie tensely said. “You’ve heard the stories about Daevetch primeancers. We’ll find no common ground with beings like that.”

“I’m aware of the stories,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, “but I’d like to try anyway. Prepare to call up the reserves. Do whatever you’d like to get ready for war, but if we can avoid more fighting, I want to take that chance.”

“We should strike them while they’re still flush with victory,” Nebailie said. “Eadochas taught us how to fight Doldimar’s abominations. Since our return, we’ve been drilling the troops in more efficient decapitation techniques.”

“And what about the primeancers?” I snapped at my brother.

“What about them?” asked Minister… something or other. “You can eliminate them, can’t you? Therefore, not a problem.”

And herein lay the problem. Nebailie knew about it but refused to acknowledge it. I knew and tried to find an alternate solution.

The primeancers were a problem because here, at thirty-one years of age and almost two years into my reign, an Ele splinter had yet to appear to me.

“Of course I can.”

I brashly smiled at the minister while my insides clenched at the lie.

“Then, why shouldn’t we do as Commander Nebailie has suggested?”

Murmurs of agreement echoed this question, and hearing them, I realized that I could do nothing more in this meeting. I pushed away from the table.

“I’ve made my decision,” I said. “Send a messenger to invite Doldimar to discuss terms, but don’t think your advice has gone unheeded, brother. Prepare your soldiers to attack if these talks go poorly in any way.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Nebailie said with a bow.

Uh-oh. I knew that tone. ‘bailie would be coming to have A Talk later.

The others rose as one as I stalked out of the Ministers’ Chamber with Emir at my heel. During the five-minute walk to my office, I couldn’t help but fume at what had happened during the meeting, and once we were safely ensconced in privacy, Emir’s head shimmered, settling back into its blonde-and-blue hair paired with gray eyes.

“He made a good point, you know,” the Eselan said once the shape change was over. “An immediate attack would work in our favor. We could wipe them out before they can gather for a large assault.”

“Both you and ‘bailie know why I can’t do that,” I snapped.

“Yes. I still think we should fight, like your brother suggested,” Emir said. “Why are you hesitating with this? You’re usually quick to jump on a chance to get rid of your enemies. Are you afraid that during a battle, your men will die to a primeancer you should be able to neutralize, or is it more about the chance that someone will drag your secret into the light of day?”

Both. I didn’t want soldiers to recklessly spend their lives for my lie, but I was also terrified of what would happen if I was discovered. I’d surely lose the throne and possibly my life as well, but I was prepared for that eventuality. What made me balk at simply telling everyone about my deficiency were the possible consequences for my family. What would an angry mob do to the wife and sons of a false king?

“I’m afraid for the men, of course,” I said. “I know this move is overly cautious, but I’m only hoping to keep Auden out of an unnecessary war.”

“Seems pretty necessary to me, given what we know,” Emir said under his breath.

I pretended I hadn’t heard him. War might or might not be coming, but this nation wouldn’t run itself while that status was determined. A two-foot-high stack of paper was waiting for my perusal on my desk, another Matvai delegation had come to Elisk bearing grievances, and the supplicants who’d been waiting for me to hear them since my departure for Eadochas required my attention.

Oh! I should probably see the boys at some point today too, otherwise Illasaya wouldn’t speak to me for days. She already complained that I didn’t spend enough time with our children.

But first, I’d finish my work.

Chapter 87: A Lesson

Rhylix

 

A Daevetch bolt streaked over my head at such a narrow margin that my hair rustled in its wake. Raimie followed his magical attack with a more conventional one, swinging Silverblade at my vulnerable legs.

Grinning, I leapt over the attack, using white energy to power my jump, and while in the air, I attracted the Ele in my feet to that in the ceiling. The room flipped upside down, and I landed on my new floor.

Sticking my tongue out at Raimie, I waved at the crowd, sending them into peals of laughter, and rolling his eyes, Raimie roughly gestured downward. The ceiling-floor that I was stuck to crumbled, and I fell with its resin and volcanic glass.

After creating another attraction between stone and my flesh, I landed in a graceful crouch, rolling to spread the impact on my knees. As I flowed to my feet, the ground broke beneath me, making me stumble away from a deteriorating floor. A destructive path chased me wherever I fled until I needled Ele in the approximate direction Raimie was attacking from.

For a split second, the ground stabilized, and I used my brief respite to locate my opponent before anchoring my body to the wall behind me. Once I was fixed in place, I attracted the Ele in my body to Raimie’s, and my friend flew across the room, straight for my brandished sword.

At the last second, Raimie disrupted the attraction, an abrupt loss that jarred me. I hadn’t known that breaking someone else’s Ele draw was possible, and the shock of that revelation almost earned me defeat.

Raimie skipped to a stop a breath away from impalement. He smacked my sword away, stepping in for a Daevetch-powered punch that I barely ducked in time. After that, the fight devolved into a contest of who would break first: Raimie with his bone-shattering strength or me with my nimble quickness.

This swordplay wouldn’t add to today’s lesson, not when compared to our display from earlier, but gods, I’d missed sparring with my friend. At the very least, our audience must find the fight entertaining. Good-natured cheers interspersed the clash of steel on steel.

The fight wasn’t much of a contest for me. Since the investiture sixteen months ago, Raimie hadn’t found much time to practice with the blade, and his poor leg had never properly healed after Qena.

Even with that, my friend didn’t go down easily. He gave me no openings, despite the minute grimaces that revealed how badly his old injury was hurting him today.

In the end, what vanquished him was his total focus on his opponent. When Raimie sprang forward to take advantage of a perceived opening, I avoided the strike, and my successful feint gave me enough time to attract an obsidian shard to Raimie’s thigh. When that piece of debris hit, my friend grunted with his leg giving way. I flowed around his descending body and from behind, jerked his head back, smoothly snaking my sword to rest against my friend’s neck. He dropped his sword, raising his hands in surrender.

As the room burst into applause, I released my captive.

“Need to work on your awareness, Raimie,” I said. “Your lack of it has always been your biggest weakness.”

The king accepted my offered hand up.

“Tell me,” he panted. “Will I ever be able to beat you, or is that a vain hope?”

“You’ve already done that, remember?” I said. “Years ago? When you pulled from Daevetch and kicked my across camp?”

“Ah, yes. Not my proudest moment,” Raimie said.

His eyes unfocused, but he quickly snapped them to me, accompanied by an impish grin.

“What I hear you telling me is that if I want to beat you, I need the element of surprise.”

“What you hear me saying, oh great king of Auden, is that I need to address my students,” I said.

“And I need to repeat this display with Nessaira and her Daevetch pupils,” Raimie said, making a face. “I’ll see you later this evening, yes?”

“Our dinner’s tonight?” I asked.

Raimie had invited me to join him and some friends for a meal a few weeks ago. How had the days so quickly passed me by?

“Yes, Rhy, it’s tonight,” Raimie said with a smile. “Should I send a guard to fetch you? I know you get so sucked into your activities that you forget about the world outside of this school sometimes.”

“No, no,” I said. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. Until tonight, then.”

Raimie parted the sea of onlookers around us with his very presence, an unconscious movement from all involved. Swiftly striding for the training room’s door, he distractedly twitched his fingers, the sole indication of how badly he must want to shade meld to the Daevetch spire to save time. Doing so, however, would abandon today’s bodyguard, Pointer, to the Ele student’s care. Avoiding a lecture from Oswin about his disregard for safety must have been more attractive than salvaging fifteen minutes from his unexpected chore.

I was grateful that my friend, the king of Auden, had squeezed these impromptu demonstrations into one of his rare days of leisure. When I’d woken up this morning, energized enough to leap out of bed, I’d sent word to Raimie, asking for his help. Days where I was fully myself had gotten few and far between. It was best to take advantage of them when I could.

Pointer peeled out of the corner he’d been wedged in, following Raimie like a wraith-like shadow. Everyone knew that the spy held a heathy dose of wariness for primeancers. Lingering in a room with so many of them must have unnerved him, but he’d stuck it out, just for Raimie. 

Quickly enough, he and the king disappeared down the stairwell, and I ran my eyes over said primeancers. They’d taken to chatting amongst themselves while their teacher was distracted.

Such a diverse group! Most were youths but a few laid claim to old age, although I couldn’t help but think of even them as children. A smattering of farmers, two brash Matvai, some children from wealthy merchant families. Even a Zrelnach Eselan, to my surprise, and of course, Miranon, our resident Qenan scientist. All told, Ring had located fourteen of them on her four-month long journey from a year and a half ago, although several of them hadn’t reached Elisk and the palace until recently.

I hoped that over time, more would gather. The number I was already teaching was more than enough, thank you! But this school was rapidly transforming into a safe space for all primeancers, somewhere they weren’t hunted and murdered for something they had little control over. I wouldn’t want any of them to miss the opportunity, even if that chance for safety came at a price.

When Raimie had first informed me of the condition that had been exacted for the primeancy school, I hadn’t been pleased. Actually, if I was being honest, my reaction more resembled a heated, one-sided speech than anything else. When he could get a word in edge-wise, Raimie had explained why the insult had been necessary, and I’d understood. By ourselves, my friend and I couldn’t feed, house, and provide for an unknown number of people. His ministers held the nation’s purse strings, and therefore, we must bow to their desires, accepting an unwelcome uniform and insignia pair.

At least Raimie had managed to render what should have been a distinguishing uniform down to something as commonplace as possible. Nearly identical to the army’s dress, it was almost bearable. Almost. To this day, this form of discrimination made my blood boil, but at the time, I’d reluctantly accepted the restriction placed on my future students. Upon my concession, however, I’d decidedly informed Raimie that if he ever tried to put me in a uniform, of any type, I would make his life a living hell.

Once a student noticed his teacher scrutinizing them, he hushed the others. Their descent into silence happened far too quickly for me. These people shouldn’t be showing me so much respect.

“I hope you enjoyed the show today!” I said to fill the quiet. “Can anyone tell me what they learned from it?”

“That you and the king are badasses,” a young farmhand breathlessly said.

Several of the primeancers gasped while an older merchant lightly smacked the back of his head.

“Language, Irya!”

With a half-smile, I tipped my head to the side.

“No, it’s all right,” I say. “You should never be afraid to use strong language when a situation calls for it. It’s a tool like any other.”

Striding to Irya, I crouched in front of the boy, hanging my wrists off of my knees.

“In this case, though, perhaps your word choice wasn’t wise. With time and training, all of you can use Ele like I did in the fight. You can become ‘badasses’ yourself,” I said, patting Irya on the head. “What else did we learn?”

As I stood, my students were quiet, almost introspective, but someone eventually spoke up.

“The king’s terrifying.”

Pavensu had probably meant what she’d said as a quip, but genuine fear had infected her voice as well, fear that was reflected in the others.

“Because of the dark energy he wields?” I softly asked.

On receiving several nods, I stook my head.

“Raimie is more skilled with Ele than he is with Daevetch, and he’s your ally,” I said. “You don’t need to fear him.” 

Quiet murmurs followed this, but most of my students appeared comforted now, if not entirely mollified.

“What else?” I asked.

“Ele is in everything, and we can manipulate it,” Miranon said before ducking her head.

Poor girl. Her friendship with Tejesper, a Daevetch student, hadn’t earned her a warm welcome here. The Ele students ostracized her to an extreme, as could be seen from the mocking glances they were directing at her.

I understood their scorn. What Miranon had said was common knowledge for everyone, not just primeancers. Her fellow students probably thought she was silly for reiterating it.

“Very good, Miranon,” I said. “I’m pleased that at least one of you figured it out.”

As the others gave me various surprised reactions, Miranon lifted her head with a small smile, and I dipped my head to her. I’d been trying to help her where I could, but that was hard to do without looking like I was playing favorites.

“Figured wut out?” asked a Matvai boy.

“Manipulating Ele in his body and in the obsidian around us is how Rhylix stood on the ceiling and flung rubble at the king,” Miranon whispered before tightening her arms around her middle.

“That’s… brilliant, Miranun! Smaert and pretty,” the Matvai boy said. “Whu’d have thought?”

Leave it to someone from the Matvai clans to make a compliment sound like an insult at the same time.

“I learned that Ele isn’t nearly as useless in combat as you’ve made it seem over the last few weeks, Rhylix,” said the Zrelnach among the primeancers.

What was her name? Jeme? After the time I’d spent teaching her, I should know it by now, but something about her made my attention slip away whenever I interacted with her, probably some Zrelnach training I’d forgotten about.

“You’ve emphasized every way that Daevetch can be used to destroy us,” she continued. “Knowing that we have our own ways to attack heartens me.”

“My intention wasn’t to discourage you, Jeme, but rather to warn you of what you’ll face,” I said. “Daevetch primeancers aren’t to be trifled with.”

The Zrelnach didn’t react to the name I’d spoken, so I must have guessed it correctly, but by the sober expression on the others’ faces, I could tell that this lesson had finally sunk in.

“Now that you understand the danger, we can begin your training in truth,” I said. “Over the next few months, I’ll work with each of you, one on one, to develop your skills. While I’m doing that, the rest of you will meet with Nessaira’s students on a limited basis.”

“WHAT?”

“Yu just told us Daevetch primeancers are daengerous enemies,” an older Matvai woman added. “Why pit us against them when we haeve nu skills?”

She was one of many loudly protesting people, all hurt or confused, and some of them had clearly started wondering if they’d made a mistake in coming here.

“I never said they were your enemy. I only said they were dangerous, which they are,” I called over them. “They’re also human and Esela. For the most part, what attracted a Daevetch splinter to them wasn’t a conscious decision on their part, much like what happened between you and your splinters."

“Take Miranon’s friend, Tejesper, for example. He attracted a splinter of aspect Destruction because he enjoyed crafting explosives to help with his village’s mining efforts. His actions were in no way harmful to society, but Destruction came to him all the same."

“Daevetch primeancers aren’t evil—”

I had to say those words, even if they stuck in my throat.

“—and we Ele wielders must learn to work with them if we’re to defend the realm.”

They looked so uncertain, exchanging glances among themselves and licking their lips.

An elderly farmer said, “But-”

I stepped in before this lesson could go off the rails. I’d gotten them where I needed them.

“In this school, I encourage you to question the rules,” I said, “but when I tell you what will come next in your training, I expect you to do it. I’m the most experienced Ele primeancer in Auden—”

The world.

“—and I want you to succeed. I won’t ask you to do something unless your development as primeancers requires it. Do we understand one another?”

Half-hearted agreements returned to me, which would have to be enough. I couldn’t push any harder on this issue today.

“Excellent! Now, if you Restore this room quickly enough, we can sneak into Raimie’s demonstration with Nessaira before it’s over,” I said. “Should be fun to watch the king using Ele, yes?”

My students exploded from the floor with some already wrapping their hands in white light. Rather than joining them, Jeme, the Zrelnach, separated from them to approach me.

As she stopped beside me, she said, “You make a much better teacher than a student.”

I peered at her with hooded eyes.

“Did we know one another in Allanovian?” I asked.

A short giggling fit briefly stole her ability to respond.

“You know, I had a running bet with myself about whether you’d remember me,” she said when she could. “You always were the most aloof trainee in our class.”

Jeme. Now that she’d mentioned it, I did remember a girl with that name, and it explained why I’d had so much trouble with focusing on her. It was an example of how my compartmentalization of memories could cause problems in my life.

“You were the quiet one,” I said. “Everyone underestimated you because of your meek demeanor, but I knew that your tendency to fade into the background didn’t make you an incompetent warrior. After our class’s trials, you emerged second in their ranking, right?”

“Only because you’d dropped out by that point,” Jeme said. “Ferin and I had a close contest, but in the end, I let her win our duel. I thought that eventually, she’d make a better leader than me. Look how wrong I was.”

Bristling, I growled, “Commander Ferin did the best she could in a difficult situation.”

The wound of her murder still badly ached from where it had begun scabbing over.

“Oh, I know, but her best almost destroyed our expedition before it left Ada’ir’s shores,” Jeme continued. “Anyway, those events are years in the past. There’s no use in dwelling on them now.”

Then, why had she brought them up?

Rather than challenge her, I asked, “When did you gain a splinter? It must have been recent, or your fellow Zrelnach would have noticed your magic by now.”

“Actually, it happened a few years back,” Jeme said. “On our journey across the sea, do you remember the pirate attack that happened during our becalming?”

Did I ever. Following that battle, I’d met Nylion for the first time, although I hadn’t known Raimie had a second persona in his head at that point, and Nylion had still been… unstable at the time.

Gods, I hoped Raimie could eventually persuade him to meet with me again. It had been a year and a half. A second try should have been made by now, but whenever I asked my friend about it, he told me to be patient. Nylion took longer to heal and forgive than most people, which was understandable given their past.

With a quick head shake, I said, “I do.”

“After the battle, I spared a pirate,” Jeme said. “Commander Gistrick didn’t receive Raimie’s orders about the bastards’ fates until the day after the attack, and without those orders, he’d decided to toss the pirates overboard."

“A teenager was waiting for death with them. Sobbing amongst those angry prisoners, he was so quiet that it broke my heart. That he should die for youthful mistakes didn’t sit right with me. I snuck him away, hiding him until tempers had cooled. He sailed home with the former slaves, and not long after that, Mercy appeared to me.”

Ah, aspect Mercy. What a perfect match for the girl I remembered from Allanovian.

“How did you keep your primeancy secret for so long?” I asked.

“Simple,” Jeme said with a shrug. “I never used it. Zrelnach training has kept me alive in the years since, but soon enough, I knew I’d face a threat that would force Ele from me. I’d rather declare my status as a primeancer in a place of safety than during a battle. In the aftermath of one, I’d prefer to avoid coincidentally succumbing to my ‘wounds’.”

“Smart,” I said, “but then, you always were, Jeme.”

“As you were always different, Rhylix,” she shot back. “I always wondered how you managed to stay exactly one step ahead of us during our training. Was that because of your primeancy, or are you hiding something else too?”

Thank Alouin. The other students had finished Restoring the room, giving me an excuse to abandon the conversation. I moved toward the grouped students, ignoring Jeme’s intense stare at me.

“Outstanding, everyone!” I said. “The room looks exactly as it did before the demonstration.”

“Nu thaenks tu the gray-eyes,” an older, Matvai woman muttered.

She made a face before sullenly eyeing Jeme.

“Yanovna!” the Matvai boy hissed at her side.

The woman snapped her head toward him, opening her mouth to reply, but I stepped toe-to-toe with her first, staring her down. The Matvai hated Esela for reasons I’d never discovered, which could become a problem since two of them were my students. I should confront this problem now, before it turned into something more than snide comments.

“Do you have a problem with the Esela, Yanovna?” I asked.

Stepping back, Yanovna bumped into the woman behind her.

“Nut at all!” she said, flashing a nervous smile at me.

I believed that as much as I believed that Daevetch primeancers didn’t have something inherently evil buried within them. Still, I’d take the woman’s concession, satisfied that she wouldn’t cause problems for a little while longer.

“Good!” I said. “Well, since the lot of you are finished, it looks like we can move on with our lesson today. Come on, class! Let’s see if Raimie’s wiped the floor with Nessaira yet.”

Chapter 88: Day of Leisure

Raimie

 

Again, Nessaira attacked me with her tiny crossbow, so intent on the fight that she ended up aiming at her students, and I gritted my teeth, only moving a fraction of an inch so that the bolt wouldn’t puncture my throat. It embedded in my shoulder instead, and in a flash, I ripped what I could of the projectile free, sending Ele to circle the wound and keep it from bleeding. I tried not to think about the metal tip that I’d left in my muscle.

When Nessaira laughed, I realized that perhaps her aim hadn’t been as distracted as I’d thought. She’d forced me to take the hit to make an opening in my flesh.

Daevetch tendrils leapt across the distance between her hand and my wound, one after the other in an endless parade, and I nimbly dodged them all until she growled, sweeping forward with her sword raised.

My leg was aching. I wouldn’t last long against a Daevetch empowered opponent, so instead of standing my ground against her, I ran away.

Nessaira, who’d always been an uninspired warrior, didn’t take advantage of the room’s abundant shadows to shade meld in front of me or use Daevetch creatively at all, in fact. Instead, she chased me on her own two feet.

As I approached the wall, I hoped that I’d mastered the attraction skill that Rhylix had been teaching me over the last month. Since I’d become king, few moments had come along where we were together, unoccupied with another task, and without observers nearby, but when those rare times came, messengers and aids knew to look for me and Rhylix in the palace’s training yard, the sole place where we could spar or practice primeancy techniques.

How many times had I left those sessions exhausted and frustrated? The skills Rhylix had been trying to impart, including the one I’d soon use, were often ones that I’d mastered as a child, but my proficiency with them had failed to return with my memories. While I’d managed to occasionally resonate with the wholes again, like I had against Teron years ago, I’d lost count of how many times I’d stared at the ceiling, wishing for my feet to stick to an impossible height. They never had, hence why I’d asked Rhylix for help.

Perhaps our training would soon come to fruition.

Calling to the Ele in the obsidian ahead of me, I willed it to bind to my feet, hoping to put some distance between me and Nessaira, but before I could finish that task, I ground to a halt, halfway through a step, and tipping, I fell to the side with my lungs stunned on hitting the ground. When had Nessaira snuck Daevetch into my shoulder wound?

“Sorry, Raimie. I could not warn you in time,” Nylion said. “She is too fast.”

Leaning against a wall where he’d been watching the fight, he uncrossed his arms and ankles, wrinkling his nose.

“Do you think she will-?”

Nessaira stepped between me and the crowd, wiggling her fingers, and I twitched and spasmed, a puppet at the end of her strings.

“Oh… that is annoying,” Nylion grunted.

And humiliating. At least she hadn’t used the pain node of her Vice, though. Given a moment of respite, I could escape from her with ease.

“See here why Daevetch shall always be superior to Ele,” Nessaira said. “Once allowed into the body, our dark energy can control anyone, even a king, and if they dare try to escape…”

She curled her fingers. White-hot fire sparked in every part of me, inside and out, unraveling my delicate work to destroy her Vice’s nodes. As Nylion collapsed into a heap by the wall, a rough scream drowned out Nessaira’s lecture, and a pink film fell over my vision. Before red could completely blind me, I watched Rhylix lead his Ele students into the room, stopping short on seeing me on the floor, and my pain paled when compared to what this display might do to our audience.

Forget the surgical approach and conserving Ele. Students on both sides of the primeancy line couldn’t see me defeated. Not like this. If this demonstration ended with me pinned in place, unable to writhe from the agony scouring me clean, the Daevetch students would use my defeat to justify using overt power to solve their problems. Meanwhile, fear of the dark energy would breed among the Ele students.

Despite pain’s nipping attempts to distract me and Nylion’s sobs, tearing at my heart, I reached for Bright, yanking a vast swathe of Ele to me. Tranquility and calm washed my body free of Daevetch’s corruption. A sparking, red mist cleared, and even though I was still twitching from the cessation of such an overload, I managed to direct an Ele spike into Nessaira’s turned face. The thread wiggled through her eye socket and to the base of her skull, and I promptly sent her to sleep.

Rhylix started running to me, but I shouted at him—

“NO!”

—sending him stumbling to a halt.

“I nghh-” I moaned with my jaw unintentionally clenching. “I can nghh-”

I panted on my side, waiting. Watching Nylion gather himself. With a fierce shake of his body, he crawled to me, sitting at my head, until we held our body’s strings once more. Accepting Nylion’s help, I climbed to my feet, and only then did I let Rhylix come to me. While my friend looked me over, quickly focusing on my shoulder wound, I cleared my throat.

“Daevetch has its uses,” I said, addressing the students. “It has more practical applications in combat, allows instantaneous travel across the globe, and can easily hold an enemy captive. In every way, it seems superior to Ele. But!”

I held up a finger.

“One should never underestimate an Ele primeancer. What matters in a battle between primeancers, you see, isn’t which primal force holds dominion or what each primeancer can accomplish. What matters is you.”

I swept my finger over the students.

“Your resourcefulness, your ingenuity, your internal abilities—not what Ele and Daevetch give you—will determine the fight.”

With that, I turned my back on the crowd, and gradually, the students started chattering, a mumble tinged with incredulity and grudging respect. I let my friend finish his work on my shoulder, but then, Nylion, Rhylix, and I trudged to stand over Nessaira with my other half quietly hissing, and after waking her, I offered her a hand to her feet, tightly clenching it before she could let go.

“Don’t EVER do that to me again,” I said.

Her face fell, and when I released her hand, she hugged herself.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but my students needed to see a victory. They’re the ones who are most hunted in Auden, more so than those of Ele, because of Doldimar’s legacy. I wanted to show them that we can protect ourselves, that we can be safe. I wanted to…”

Trailing off, Nessaira winced.

“I wanted to win,” she whispered. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Rhylix and I exchanged a glance.

“How much Daevetch have you been using recently?” the Eselan asked.

“More than normal,” Nessaira said, flicking her eyes to Rhylix and away. “The kids… they need an adult to forge the way for them. I’ve been using Daevetch to an abnormal degree, trying to show them that it isn’t wrong for them to be what they are.”

Chewing on my lip, I glanced at the Daevetch students. Not many were standing in that corner. While on her tour of Auden, Ring had found six who’d agreed to attend a school for primeancy, but of them, one had disappeared on her way to Elisk.

Of the five who’d safely arrived, the oldest was Tejesper, who said he was fourteen, and the rest clung to him, looking for protection. Everyone in that group was motley, despondent, and withdrawn. One of the girls had even developed a nervous tic, a condition that had only facilitated her status as ‘a crazy primeancer’, and the others presented a visage of guarded vulnerability to the world, flinching from raised voices and unexpected motion. They reminded me of Nylion.

So, I understood why Nessaira seemed so careworn.

“I know you’re doing what you must to care for your charges,” Rhylix said, “but you need to take care of yourself too. Daevetch primeancers are considered unstable for a reason. Use too much dark energy, and you will go insane.”

“Earning these kids’ trust without your primeancy will be difficult, but we need you able in body and mind to teach them. Ease up on your usage,” I finished for my friend.

I was curious whether Nessaira would take what I’d said as a suggestion or a command.

Rhylix’s kindness toward Nessaira surprised me. Supposedly, the very sight of Daevetch and its primeancers revolted my friend, one of the reasons that Nylion continued to be so wary of a second encounter with him. My friend must truly believe in my vision, considering how far he’d gone to accommodate this woman.

“Thank you. I’ll keep your advice in mind,” Nessaira said. “In the meantime, you might want to return your students to their spire. The way they’re looking at my kids makes me uneasy.”

Making a face, Rhylix said, “You’re probably right. Always a pleasure, Nessaira.”

He bowed before calling for his Ele students to follow him home.

“I dislike that man,” Nessaira said once he was gone, “but you made an excellent choice with him, Your Majesty. He’s right. I used a Vice on you, for Alouin’s sake! I’ll stop using my primeancy for a time.”

“Probably for the best,” I said. “Is there anything else I should show your students? Shade melding? If you want, I could make a stair out of the wall.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but no, Your Majesty. You’ve spent enough of your day of leisure on us,” Nessaira said. “Go see your wife. I’m sure she’s eagerly waiting for your return.”

“I doubt it,” Nylion said. “She has been rather busy with her own projects lately.”

Fixing him with a stare, I gave a small shake of my head.

“In that case, I’ll take my leave,” I said.

Nessaira bowed, and in a fit of mischief, I shade melded home, leaving Pointer behind. I stepped out of the shadows and into the dark. Thick satin and velvet smothered me, and I swam through fabric until I emerged, gasping, into empty air.

“This is not where you meant to go, is it?” Nylion asked.

“What do you think?” I said under my breath.

Where was I, though? Illuminating the area with Ele, I irritably huffed on viewing navy-blue uniforms folded on one side of the space while gowns hung on the other. Gods, Ren hated those things, but the proper appearance of a queen must be maintained, especially when she faced an ever-present hatred, simply for her heritage.

The uniforms, the dresses, the heels, the boots. I’d overshot. Again. Pushing the wardrobe’s doors open, I tumbled to the floor, springing to my feet on landing.

“You here, love?” I called.

Once beside our bed, I unbuttoned and loosened my jacket’s collar, listening for any sound, but no answer was returned to me.

Humming, I stepped around the bed to a spacious, curved wall. Drawing its curtains to the side, I squinted at sunlight’s sudden appearance before strolling onto the balcony outside.

Not in bed, not out here, and I’d seen no sign of her in the rest of our small suite. Where was she?

Behind me, paper flapped in the breeze, and I turned to the garden table that the noise had come from. Wilting foliage was draped over a flowerpot’s rim, one that was pinning a folded sheaf to the table. A largely lettered ‘My Love’ was scrawled in Ren’s handwriting above a wax seal, and sighing, I retrieved it. While Nylion settled into a chair on the other side of the table, I flopped into the other one, breaking the seal.

NylRaimie,

I’ve gone to see Chela. The healer thought she felt something during my last visit, so she’s increased their frequency. Knowing Chela, I may be with her for the rest of the afternoon. I know you probably wanted to spend your day of leisure with me, but these visits are important, and we’ll always have tonight.

Besides, when was the last time you had time alone, to be used in whatever fashion you desire? Try to have fun, and for the sake of all that’s holy, DO NOT research Doldimar’s possible hiding spots this afternoon. Your wife begs you to indulge yourself for once.

-Ren

P.S. I want both of you at once tonight. Shall we try again?

I lowered the paper with a groan while Nylion clicked his tongue. One time, I’d shared with Ren the fate of the Enforcer who’d killed her brother. I’d meant it as a kindness, so that she would know justice and vengeance had been served, but she’d only absorbed one fact from the story: that Nylion and I had shared our body for a brief spell.

Ever since then, she’d badgered us to once more attempt that wondrous experience. How many times had I told my wife that we didn’t know how we’d managed it the handful of times that we had? Ren couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that what we’d done had been totally and completely instinctual, mind separate from action.

Plus, I didn’t think she knew what she was asking of us. Attempting to merge Nylion while being intimate with her in any way made my skin crawl, and Nylion always cringed from the idea as well. Withstanding her touch without first recoiling still took everything we had.

But Ren had stayed with us. Despite the mess we were, she’d stayed.

“She is incorrigible,” Nylion said, lifting his face with closed eyes to the Sun.

“We love her anyway,” I murmured.

“Yes, we do.”

Leaning my head against the glass behind me, I closed my eyes, wondering how long I had before Pointer came looking for me.

Poor man. He’d assumed the worst bodyguard rotation of the year: the week of the liberation’s anniversary. Only four years had passed since Doldimar had vanished, and the Audish people had begun to celebrate this time of year with gusto, forgetting their fear. It made me sick, not out of disgust for them but with dread. How could they not see this period of lulling for the trap that it was?

The members of the Hand dreaded this week. Their charge was at his most petulant, his most likely to slip free of their watch. Oswin had laughingly told me that Little, the one originally assigned the duty this year, had bargained two months of bodyguard rotation away to get Pointer to switch with him, a testament to his reluctance. Since he’d lost his target after the investiture ceremony, Little had taken his diligence to previously unseen extremes, even more so than after the events at Qena.

Too bad for him. Now that Ren and I were ‘officially’ married, I’d mellowed. I was actually looking forward to the Anniversary Ball in two days’ time. Then again, my excitement probably had more to do with the announcement that Ren and I planned to make that night than anything else.

I wondered if Auntie would come. Kaedesa had recently returned to Auden for a short, two-month sojourn, but I knew Ada’ir inundated its queen with balls when she was home. She probably wouldn’t want to attend another one while she was here.

If she failed to make an appearance, I’d personally share the announcement at a later date, which might be better for everyone involved. I’d love to see the look on Auntie’s face, not to mention Dath's, when I gave her the news.

The ball wasn’t for a couple of days, though, and in the meantime, I needed something to occupy my time.

“What to do, what to do?” I yawned, lazily drumming my fingers on the table.

“We could go exploring,” Nylion said. “Scurrying about Daira’s districts was our favorite pastime as a kid. Now, we have the world at our fingertips.”

“That sounds nice, Nyl, but perhaps a nap first,” I said. “Gods, how old does that make me sound?”

“We are almost twenty-four. While not old, it is also not eighteen,” Nylion said. “Besides, you are running a kingdom, heart of my heart, and since you refuse to appoint sufficient ministers to help you with governance, the task runs you ragged. So, yes. A quick nap might be in order.”

All that answered him was my quiet snoring, and softly chuckling, he reached across the table to run his hand through our hair. Then, he vanished.

Chapter 89: My Chosen Life

Kylorian

 

When I stepped into headquarters, I was almost immediately ambushed by Larkspur, one of my subordinates. I lifted a finger in her face before she could speak.

“You know how this goes,” I said. “A quarter mark. Whatever it is can wait for a quarter mark while I get situated in my office.”

With a heavy sigh and an eyeroll, Larkspur backed off, letting me pass her. I hurried to my tiny, corner office because despite what I’d told my subordinate, I knew if one of them came at me with that level of urgency, they usually meant to convey something dire. I needed to get through my initial routine as quickly as possible so I could hear the news.

Once in my office, I pulled a key from a pocket to unlock the tiny chest on the rickety table behind my desk. Both surfaces were littered with quills, inkpots, food crumbs, and roughly crafted paper, but I ignored it, all to retrieve the chest’s contents.

The pistol was heavy in my hands as I carefully loaded it. Shortly after Doldimar had vanished from Auden, Raimie and Spymaster Oswin had interviewed and employed several blacksmiths to produce a plethora of these weapons, to be given to soldiers in Auden’s army. Owning one was strictly regulated to those soldiers, but soon after I’d become the Minister of Public Safety, the king had given me one as well.

I hated having it on my person, not trusting myself with something so destructive, but I couldn’t deny how much it helped with my job.

Still, I only carried it while working, leaving it locked in my office the rest of the time. The only exceptions to that personal rule were at events that posed a greater than normal risk to the king. For example, I planned to wear it in a concealed holster at the upcoming Anniversary Ball, when several dignitaries from somewhat hostile kingdoms would be in attendance.

Shoving the pistol into its secured harness on my belt, right beside my sword, I took a couple of deep breaths, shoving my personal problems to the side. While I was working, I was Auden’s faithful servant, a position I thoroughly enjoyed, and I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that.

All right. Now, I could start the day.

Larkspur was waiting to pounce outside of my office. Practically vibrating with anticipation, she waited until I’d closed and locked my office door before speaking.

“There was a murder this morning,” she said as soon as I looked at her. “So far, it looks like a mugging gone wrong, but we haven’t verified that yet.”

A murder? That was unusual. Elisk might be the largest city in Auden, but violence—of the life-ending variety, at least—was fairly limited here. It seemed most of the populace was still fairly sick of seeing, enacting, or otherwise experiencing someone’s death, when it came before their time.

Which wasn’t to say that murder never happened. I wasn’t sure any sizeable population of humanity could go for long without it, terrible as that was, but it was rare enough to surprise me.

Still.

“Why are you bringing this to me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “It sounds like standard investigative work, and you all tend to only bring me in on the cases that could lead to civil unrest.”

Even if I was a Minister and all of Elisk’s peacekeeping forces eventually reported to me, I usually let my subordinates run the day-to-day operations of my office, waiting for them to let me know where my brand of influence was needed. Unless they brought something up with me, I stuck with grunt work, like patrols, or served in any short-staffed positions.

“The death occurred in the neighborhood closest to the western gate,” Larkspur solemnly told me.

Slamming my eyes closed, I made a face.

“Shit,” I whispered.

That was one of the most recently opened sections of the city, ready for habitation now that Doldimar’s former influence had been cleansed from it. When Raimie had taken over Elisk, the city had been full of bodies—victims for the Kiraak—poisoned wells, and genuinely unsafe living conditions. Clearing them out had been a steady but long slog.

But of more importance to the present moment, the more recently opened neighborhoods were where most of Auden’s recent influx of Eselan immigrants tended to settle.

Opening my eyes, I met Larkspur’s gray gaze.

“Is that why you’re in the office instead of on patrol?” I asked.

Larkspur was one of the handful of Eselan subordinates I’d recruited, but she was the only one scheduled to work today.

Ducking her chin, Larkspur broke eye contact.

“My partner thought it might be best,” she murmured.

I nodded.

“I understand,” I said, “and so long as you agree with him, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”

As soon as she’d acknowledged my words, I continued, “Mind telling me where I’m headed?”

Larkspur gave me directions, and I left the office. As I walked down city streets, I took the pulse of the crowd around me. Most people seemed calm or excited, but in a happy way. I didn’t sense much tension or fear, which relieved me.

A happy populace, living in a safe environment that also met their needs, led to less violence between its members. That, in turn, led to less work for me, not that I minded working, but I did enjoy seeing less crime among the people I cared for.

As king, Raimie had done an excellent job with fostering this environment. I was honestly impressed that he’d gotten so far in such a short amount of time. Sure, he’d had a head start before taking the throne: all those years we’d spent contesting the throne between us.

But still.

None of this was to say the Audish were perpetually at peace with one another. That wasn’t possible in any nation, much less one where most of its population had some form of battle fatigue. But to date, Auden’s recovery from Doldimar’s reign had gone exceptionally smoothly.

When I reached the crime scene, I greeted the people standing guard as professionally and calmly as possible. My subordinates looked nervous, flicking their eyes over every citizen who passed in front of the alley they were blocking. They let me through, and I slowly approached the body slumped against one of the alley’s walls, trying to prepare.

I never liked seeing bodies—who did?—but the dead Esela who’d been popping up over the last year had been among the worst of those I’d seen. The Audish hadn’t taken their arrival to our shore well, and that distaste had been shown through crimes like this one.

When I looked upon this body, however, I was relieved to see no obvious mutilation to it. They were slumped sideways at the base of the wall with their head bowed against their chest. If I hadn’t already known about the murder, I’d think they were sleeping off a drunken bender.

I supposed the shallow pool of blood around them helped to dispel the illusion too. The killing wound wasn’t obvious from this angle, but from the volume of that pool, it must have clipped a vital blood vessel.

I crouched in front of the body to take a closer look and immediately cringed. Someone had gouged this Eselan’s gray eyes out. I wasn’t sure yet if the perpetrator had done that due to extreme emotion or out of a vain hope to cover up what amounted to a crime committed out of hatred. The Eselan’s hair was a muted brown and black combination, something that might have let them pass as human without their gray eyes, so maybe their murderer had wanted to delay our discovery of their race.

I could see no other obvious clues, so straightening, I returned to my subordinates at the alley’s end.

“Any witnesses?” I asked.

They both gave me the side-eye before replying in the negative, not that I could blame them for that. The Audish people still distrusted anyone in a peacekeeping position, given that the last people who’d held that role had been mostly Kiraak, Overseers, or Conscripted. Much as they might love Raimie, idolize him even, they still had issues with trusting him and his decisions.

And so, the citizens of Elisk tended to avoid my subordinates whenever possible.

Sighing, I passed a hand over my face.

“Well, see if you can find anything else connected to the crime nearby,” I said. “I’ll work my charm on the locals. See if they’ll give me anything. We’ll meet back at headquarters by midday and go from there.”

The two tried to salute, which I winced at and waved off. We weren’t the military, and I had no desire to run us into anything like one.

I made my way up and down the streets that bordered the alley, speaking with residents and shop owners alike. Much like with Raimie, my efforts to help our people during our former contest had helped to ingratiate them to me. Still, that didn’t mean many would be willing to help with my current investigation, which showed when I met up with my subordinates later. 

Fortunately, they’d had better luck with their side of things, although I could barely take in their new information through the depth of my frustration with my fellow citizens. I was about ready to strangle the next one who gave me the runaround on what should have been a simple line of questioning.

Thank Alouin, I’d become well aware of this warning signal, coming from my own brain, over the years, and I knew just how to handle it before it turned into something… less than pleasant.

I spent the first half of the afternoon patrolling one of Elisk’s more crime-ridden neighborhoods. Sometimes, if I was lucky, I’d come across a thief or similar ruffian who was resistant to arrest, and I could use the resulting struggle to quell any violent urges lurking in my mind. Today, that wasn’t the case.

So, I headed toward my fallback. 

Once I reached home, I wasn’t sure what sort of greeting I should expect. Things had become tumultuous between me and Ivelais in the last sixteen months, even though the two of us were also closer than ever. But the reactions each of us had to our inner evils—our ‘inner Durys’, as Hadrion had once called them—had become more varied and extreme, especially on Ivelais’ part.

Cautiously, I crept through the house with my hand always near a weapon’s hilt. Ivelais and I hadn’t fought with real weapons since I’d cast my father out of my life, but it paid to be prepared.

This home was much more cluttered than the one I’d kept in Tiro. Rather than a single table and chair, several soft surfaces littered both of the house’s rooms. Charcoal drawings were hung on the walls with the ones more appropriate for mixed company in the front and the more disturbing images in the back. An unfinished drawing rested on the small desk in our bedroom, the one beneath the room’s small window.

I couldn’t find Ivelais anywhere, not that there were many places to look. My new home might be bigger than anything else I’d owned, but it wasn’t anything like the palace or even the smaller family homes that lined Elisk’s thoroughfares.

Where could Ivelais be? Maybe they’d snuck to a more secluded neighborhood, somewhere they wouldn’t feel as trapped, or they could have hooded up to chance a market visit.

Frowning, I eased open our narrow back door into the garden path behind the building, guarded by tall walls. This were the biggest reason Ivelais had decided to live with me after I’d moved to Elisk. They’d craved time outdoors where they wouldn’t have to constantly stay alert for the presence of unwanted onlookers.

For a moment, I stood in the doorway. My danger sense, highly tuned throughout childhood, had awakened, and I wasn’t sure why. The garden patch looked as abandoned as the house, so why…?

There was no helping it. I’d have to investigate the garden patch either way.

As soon as I stepped outside, a heavy weight landed on my back, and teeth clamped down hard on my earlobe, splitting skin. Gasping, I bit back any other noises my body wanted to make while backtracking into the house. Somehow, I managed to kick the door closed while flailing to get my attacker off of me.

I managed that rather important task right as a sharp edge grazed against my neck, right over the blood vessel that would see my dead if it had been broken. Tossing my attacker away, I drew my sword while noting the distinctive features across from me.

“What the fuck, Ivelais?” I hissed.

They didn’t reply, merely leaping at me again with the knife they were holding extended. Swaying, I batted that blade aside, barely managing to regain my balance in time to spin around their careening body. They slammed into the back door, and I was right there after them, shoving them face first into its wooden surface.

“Is it really that bad today?” I gasped into their ear.

They manically laughed while throwing their head back into my face. I stumbled away from them, losing track of them for a split second. In that time, Ivelais got something behind my legs, and I collapsed onto our bed. With a delighted shriek, they jumped onto my lap, slapping their hands into my shoulders. I couldn’t maintain my balance. They bore down so hard with their hips and hands that I was afraid the force of it might tear through our bed’s straw mattress.

Disoriented, I watched skin and hair blur until two soft surfaces whacked into my mouth. I tasted blood as Ivelais quite literally shoved their tongue through my lips.

Well. This wasn’t quite what I’d been looking for when I’d come here, but… it would work just as well.

Releasing my grip on my sword, I flipped us away from it, wrapping my hands around Ivelais’ throat. I maintained the kiss while applying pressure, almost enough to choke them out.

Things followed a fairly standard pattern for us after that. We spent a good quarter to half mark violently indulging in each others’ bodies, long enough to satiate our inner monsters.

Or at least, mine was satisfied by the time we fell away from one another. It purred in satisfaction at the back of my mind.

I looked over Ivelais, noting the scratches and bite marks on their skin. 

“Are you all right?” I asked.

Slamming their eyes closed, Ivelais made a face before turning away from me.

“Fine,” they mumbled.

Oo. That wasn’t good.

Gently, I scooted until I’d slotted my body against theirs. I draped an arm over their stomach, pressing my nose into the back of their neck.

“Ok,” I breathed. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

They were quiet for a long time while I merely waited. Sometimes, Ivelais would let me in on their inner turmoil, although this only came after they’d let the excess off in whatever way they must. Sometimes, they closed down even tighter than they usually were. I wasn’t sure which way they’d swing today.

Eventually, they cleared their throat.

“Why haven’t you told King Raimie about me yet?” they quietly said.

I tensed. With a huff, I rolled away, sitting up.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I keep meaning to but…”

Making a face, I reached for my tunic.  I wasn’t sure why Ivelais slipped from my thoughts whenever I was in my friend’s presence, but it was causing issues between them and me. Ivelais didn’t necessarily expect me to present their problem to the king so that they might become human again, but they also weren’t happy to still bear Corruption’s marks, even this long after Raimie had finished cleansing the rest of the kingdom of known Kiraak.

Sighing, Ivelais rolled my way.

“I don’t blame you for it, Ky,” they said. “I’m just worried. You’ve had such a long time to bring it and your own problem up with him, but you never have. What do you think will happen if you continue to let our problems linger like this?”

That had me frowning. My own problem? I’d addressed the issue of Tanwadur and every influence he’d once held on me over a year ago. I wasn’t sure what else Ivelais could mean.

I turned toward them, planting a kiss on their forehead.

“I know. I’ll keep trying,” I said. “Maybe I’ll remember to bring it up tonight! I’m meeting Raimie and Ren for dinner. Those two apparently have important news to share, and I’m one of the lucky few who get advanced notice of that sort of thing.”

Ivelais scowled at me for several heartbeats before sighing. Sitting up, they wrapped their arms around me, almost clinging.

“You can’t keep avoiding this,” they whispered, “not if you want to avoid any disasters he has planned.”

Abruptly, I stood up. With how long I’d spent here, I wasn’t sure how much time I had left to linger. It would take me quite some time to reach the tavern Ren and Raime had chosen as our meeting spot, given it was on the other side of the city. Had I been so wrapped up in quelling my inner monster that I’d made myself late?

“Like I said, I know,” I absently said.

Glancing at Ivelais, I lifted one corner of my mouth.

“Wish me luck tonight?” I said. “You know I might need it with all that distracting alcohol surrounding me.”

Ivelais watched me intently with their brow creased, which soon had me squirming.

Huffing out a breath, they said, “Good luck, Ky. I’ll be here when you get home.”

Nodding at them, I brightly smiled before heading toward the front door. Raimie and my sister hadn’t wanted to have a family meal in a long time. I wondered what was so momentous and urgent that it required such an important gathering.

Chapter 90: An Announcement

Rhylix

 

The tavern that Ren and Raimie had chosen for tonight’s gathering was loud and boisterous, a complete change from our quiet meals in the palace’s confines, but I supposed this change made sense. I’d caught my friend’s recent restlessness, a sign that Raimie would soon make a late-night foray into the city. He’d trawl the streets and mingle in taverns, and of the taverns that Raimie visited, he returned most frequently to the lively ones, the ones most similar to Sigemond’s bar in Tiro.

When a barmaid crossed in front of me, I caught her eye.

“I was told to ask for the dichotomy table?” I asked.

“Oo! The private one,” she said, all bubbles and giggles. “It’s in the far corner, by the fireplace.”

Nodding my thanks, I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd in the indicated direction. When I broke free of the press of bodies, I stopped short at the sight of the table’s single occupant.

“Hey, Rhylix,” Kylorian drawled, raising a hand in greeting. “Figures you’d be here too.”

Ren’s adoptive brother had already started partaking of the evening’s festivities, I saw. Why else would a half-empty mug be resting between his hands?

“Am I early?” I asked.

I slid to sit beside Kylorian, who snorted.

“No, they’re late,” he said, “but I think we can forgive them. Being king and queen would make anyone  busy, and those two like to bite off more than they can chew. They’ve probably stumbled into a new charity project, even though today was supposed to be their day of leisure.”

“Seems to me that you’d understand that, given your own proclivities for charity work,” I said.

With a mild glare, Kylorian slurped from his mug’s contents, leaving me with nothing else to say. Ren’s adoptive brother and I had always had a shaky relationship, but it had gotten worse when I’d dropped the Ryvolim disguise after Elisk’s capture. Apparently, Kylorian didn’t take kindly to being misled, and my deception had nettled whatever good will he might have harbored for me.

As for me, I’d never forgiven Kylorian for causing Raimie unnecessary distress. Despite my friend’s insistence on their ‘friendship’, I couldn’t bring myself to pardon him as easily for the years of rivalry and hostility. Kylorian always rankled my good mood when we were in the same room.

“How’s the ministry job?” I made myself say.

“Busy,” Kylorian said.

And the conversation seemed like it might end there, but then, he continued.

“During peace or war, keeping the streets safe is hard enough without added complications, so when the king issued that proclamation to the world, welcoming Esela to Auden, it made me cringe. Within a year of that announcement, a transient flood had settled in Elisk, and my job’s difficulty has jumped a thousand-fold."

“I personally believe that opening the border to the Esela is an excellent idea, but the realm’s human population isn’t as willing to accept it. You have no idea how many crimes against the Esela I’ve processed in the last year. Every night, an excessive number of my officers patrol their city quarters to make sure no one hurts them in their sleep, and every day is spent handling their complaints of harassment or vandalism. Tell me. How am I supposed to protect Elisk when one problem binds up half of my resources?”

A hooded individual plopped onto the bench beside me.

“I suppose I should have consulted with my Minister of Public Safety before making that proclamation, then, huh?” he said.  “Sorry to have made your job more challenging.”

Jumping to his feet, Kylorian said, “Your Majesty!”

“Sit down!” Raimie hissed.

Waving at the other man, he scanned the tavern for heads that might have turned our way.

“I’m here incognito. Try not to make such a fuss.”

Chastened, Kylorian slowly returned to his seat, and Raimie cocked his head.

“How are you, Ky?” he asked. “How’s the family?”

“I’m fine,” Kylorian said before his face creased. “The family, not so much. I've kept in touch with them, despite... everything."

He and Raimie shared a knowing look, and I wondered what I'd missed.

"Since your investiture, Dury’s struggled with the idea that he’ll be bedridden for life," Kylorian continued, "and he blames his predicament on everyone else. He faults you for holding the ceremony, me for moving to Elisk so I could work for you, and Ren for the marriage…”

He trailed off, leaving the table in awkward silence.

“My condolences to Eliade,” I said, breaking it. “Marriage to someone that irritable must be a handful.”

Raimie and Kylorian laughed, probably remembering a kindly woman with her home-cooked meals and ability to silence Tanwadur with a look.

“Eliade’s adapted well to the situation,” Kylorian says, “but I’ll pass on the sentiment.”

“Good! She deserves every kindness she receives,” I said. “Now, Raimie. Where’s your wife? We only need her to get the evening started.”

“She’ll be along shortly, I’m sure,” Raimie said. “She was visiting with Chela this afternoon, and you know how that healer can be.”

“Healer?” I asked. “Is she sick? If she is, why hasn’t she come to see me?”

“Calm down, Rhy. Ren’s perfectly fine,” Raimie said with a laugh. “Just keep a lookout, all right? She’ll be here soon.”

I did as he’d asked, scanning the tavern, but worry was distracting me. Ren only visited healers when she was extremely sick. She’d rather court death than go near someone who claimed to heal for a living with too many traumatic experiences as a child prompting her visceral fear of them.

Well, fear of all of them but me. 

Raimie insisted that Ren was fine, but… she’d fooled other people before him. Learning that my sister had duped her husband wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

Despite my worry, one person did catch my eye, slouched by the tavern’s door as he was.

“Did you mean to let Pointer follow you here?” I asked Raimie.

Most escapades beyond the palace wall first involved a long game of ‘losing the bodyguard’.

“This dinner was sanctioned,” Raimie said. “By which I mean I told Oswin we’d hold it without his knowledge if he said no, and he promptly agreed to it.”

“He didn’t insist on joining you himself?” I asked.

Raimie shook his hood in a negative.

“Too busy planning security for the ball.”

“Ah.”

Of course the spymaster of Raimie’s Hand would take charge of that duty. The Anniversary Ball would host thousands of people from multiple realms. On that night, the risk to the royals would be great, meaning Oswin and his spies would be extra vigilant throughout the ball’s festivities.

The ball…

I couldn’t decide what I think of the Audish people’s frantic abandonment of their watchfulness. On the one hand, I approved of their revelry in freedom and life, but on the other, I feared what would happen when Doldimar made his return. Each year without the Dark Lord built the Audish people’s vineyard of hope, so when the inevitable occurred, it would crush them like grapes beneath a vigneron’s feet.

Casting aside my fears, I returned to my inspection of the tavern. After the entry and departure of several other patrons, two women strolled inside, arm in arm and laughing at an unheard joke. Recognition failed to register for a moment, but when it did, I smiled.

Since the official wedding ceremony fourteen months ago, Ren and Ring had become fast friends. In the weeks after her ascension to the role of queen, my sister had been miserable, bogged down by other people’s expectations and judgment. She’d especially hated the necessity of a bodyguard and had mercilessly tormented the men of the Hand when they’d served in that role but with Ring…

For some reason, the two had clicked. Ever since then, Ring had become the queen’s permanent bodyguard, excluding the times she was required for other, undisclosed missions.

Tonight, the two women were glowing with happiness. Ring was gorgeous, as always, but Ren… something about her outshone the other woman. Perhaps her beauty stood out like a bonfire in a room of candles because I’d only sporadically seen her in the last few months, too preoccupied with the primeancer school to devote time elsewhere. Perhaps it was her clothes: her favored leggings and a tight tunic rather than an all-enveloping gown, or… or… maybe it was neither of those.

The ladies stopped beside our table, and was that a…? Yes, it was. Ren had a tiny bump where a flat stomach had rested not five months ago.

“You’re with child,” Kylorian hollowly muttered with wide eyes.

“You’re WITH CHILD!” I shouted.

Jumping to my feet, I twirled my sister before holding her at arm’s length.

“How many months along are you?” I asked. “Who knows? Do you have a due date yet?”

“Slow down, Rhy!” Raimie said. “Let her sit down first.”

My friend was on his feet too, and his hood had fallen back, and look at that beaming face! I grabbed Raimie, pulling him close, and let happy tears flow free. Many cycles had come and gone since… this. A creation of new life between two of my loved ones. I wanted to climb on top of the table, shout the news, run down the streets while screaming it at the top of my lungs. My friend and my sister were…

“I’m going to be an uncle,” I whispered, aghast.

Hands helped me get back on the bench, and I thunked into its wooden seat.

“What’s wrong with him?” I heard Kylorian ask. “You’ve brought us fantastic news!” 

More jostling on the bench indicated that the others had settled around me.

“Give him a minute, Ky. He needs to process,” Ren said somewhere nearby. “Let’s you and me talk, brother. How’ve you been?”

Their voices merged into useless mishmash.

An innocent baby directly related to me. When Doldimar found out…

The child hadn’t even been born yet, and it was doomed. Ren’s continued survival was a miracle that I blessed and feared every day. Daily, she defied the cycle’s grind, daring it to crush her. Thousands of lifetimes and every family member murdered. All but her. Could I trust that a baby would be added to that count?

A mug and dish filled with mouth-wateringly aromatic potatoes and meat were slammed in front of me, and a rough voice commanded.

“Drink first. Then, eat.”

Raising the mug, I sipped at its foam, making a face at its horse-piss taste, but the brew was enough to drag me out of my fog, at least partially. I faced Raimie, who’d failed to draw his hood back up.

“Did that help?” my friend asked, nodding to the awful ale.

“Enormously, thank you.”

Despite its terrible taste, I swallowed another draught of the stuff before descending on my meal like a ravenous beast.

“My child will have the best protection that she can get,” Raimie said, interrupting my attempts to inhale mashed potatoes. “She’ll have an army to guard her youth, a school to teach her if she attracts a splinter, a dual primeancer father to guard her sleep, and the Champion of Ele to watch her when her other protectors can’t. Doldimar won’t touch her. If I have any say in the mater, she’ll never even hear of him.”

“She?” I asked, crooking a strained smile.

Flushing, Raimie dove into his mug.

“I’ve always wanted a daughter,” he told its contents.

We silently drank and ate, watching Ren, Ring, and Kylorian excitedly chatter on the table’s far side and yet, a world away. Raimie might be confident in his ability to protect his child, but I couldn’t say the same. His brash overconfidence… it wouldn’t end well.

“It won’t be enough,” I said.

“Maybe not,” Raimie said, “but I can’t live in fear of Doldimar. Not anymore. I will always stay vigilant for his return, but I won’t obsess anymore. You should do the same.”

“Maybe,” I muttered.

The barmaid brought another round of drinks to the table, shooting a strange look at Raimie before leaving. Her brief interruption gave me enough time to finish my meal.

As the contentment of a full belly spread through me, I let it brush aside terror and rising despair. Disaster wasn’t threatening anyone tonight. I’d enjoy that while it lasted.

“How far along is she?” I asked.

“Somewhere between four and five months,” Raimie said. “We’re not sure.”

“How are you not sure?” I asked.

If Ren had been keeping track of her bleeding sequence, timing how long she’d been with child should be easy, but again, Raimie blushed, ducking his head.

“Things have been rather… animated in the bedroom, and running a kingdom has kept us reasonably busy outside of it,” he said. “When she gave me the news, Ren told me it had been two or so months since the last… bleeding.”

He shuddered.

“Ah.”

Yes, vibrant intimacy and a lack of free time would account for their uncertainty. As if fueled by awkwardness, our second round disappeared faster than the first, but the barmaid was attentive to our needs, pushing through a crowded room with a third round almost as soon as we were finished. When she deposited our drinks, she leaned closer to Raimie, squinting.

“I could swear…” she said.

Shifting beneath her attention, Raimie reached for his mug, and that movement shifted his collar to reveal a pair of circles, black and white, on a navy-blue collar.

“Alouin, you are,” the barmaid breathed with her mouth forming a little ‘O’.

Turning, she inhaled to yell until Raimie snatched her wrist.

“Please, don’t,” he said.

“But… you’re the king,” she whispered. “You should have the nicest table in the place, the best ale-”

“I don’t want any of that,” Raimie said. “I want a quiet night in a regular tavern with my closest friends.”

The barmaid pursed her lips, thinking.

“If you want me to keep your secret, you’ll have to pay me,” she said.

Making a face, Raimie released her before digging through his pockets.

“Very well,” he said. “I think I have some spare chits somewhere.”

“Not with money, silly,” the barmaid said, giggling. “With a kiss. I’ve always wanted to kiss a king.”

She leaned forward invitingly.

“Oh!” Raimie stammered, flicking his eyes around the table for help. “Uh…”

And I snickered. I couldn’t help it. This scene was straight from one of those horrible fairy tales that my friend loved, and he’d fallen right into the middle of it.

“Hey, wench!” Ren snapped, struggling to reach her feet. ‘That’s my husband you’re propositioning. Hands off!”

The barmaid whipped her head toward the noise, taking in Ren’s apparel with a sneer, but the ugly look dropped when she met my sister’s gray eyes.

“You’re the queen,” she whispered.

A throwing knife had appeared in Ren’s hand, and she tumbled it between her fingers.

“Yes,” she growled, “and this queen will filet you like a fish if you don’t STEP the HELL away from my husband.”

Without another word, the barmaid fled.

“Thank you, love!” Raimie gasped.

The socially awkward fool probably would have gotten himself in enormous trouble if his wife hadn’t been here to save him. Reaching over the table, Ren yanked Raimie’s hood up.

“Keep it on,” she snarled.

Then, she gracefully sank to the bench and resumed her lively chat with Ring and Kylorian.

“She’ll be fun to deal with for the next four-ish months,” I said.

“I’m already terrified,” Raimie said.

Reaching for his third drink, he downed it in one go.

Someone else brought the next round, which was a wise decision on the barkeep’s part, all things considered. Ren, Kylorian, and Ring’s animated chatter eventually drew me and Raimie into their circle, and soon enough, our table was roaring with laughter and spun tales. 

At some point, I gave up on keeping track of these delightful hours, instead indulging in a contest with Ele over whether I could escape sobriety tonight. When I achieved my goal and the room started to fuzz over, I stopped drinking, and soon after, the king and queen made their farewells with my friend leaning on my sister as they left. Two spies silently followed their path, keeping to a much straighter line than their charges did.

“I think I’ll go too,” I said with my words slightly slurred. “You?”

“I’ll stay for a little while longer,” Kylorian said.

He looked so melancholy that I was reluctant to leave him alone, but I had an early morning lesson planned for my students as well as a field trip at week’s end. I should sober up and rest beforehand.

“Rhy,” Kylorian said, snatching my sleeve, “keep them safe.”

“That’s what I do,” I said.

But I also cocked my head. Was Kylorian that concerned about the royal couple?

Releasing me, Kylorian slowly nodded before returning the full weight of his attention to his mug, and frowning, I decided not to pressure him. Gods, he looked miserable enough right now without his sister’s full-blood brother getting in his face.

“Good night, Ky,” I said.

But then, I was out the door. The outside air was crisp, one of fall’s signals that it would soon turn to winter, and I headed for the palace, absently humming to myself. Alcohol’s pleasant buzz added a skip to my step, especially considering how rare this feeling had been for me to achieve throughout my life.

I took a detour through one of Elisk’s few remaining abandoned districts, examining a wall of stone with a fierce glare. For years now, I’d wanted to climb the cliff face that the palace rested on, and the warmth in my belly had given me the courage to try. I was sure I could handle its height so long as I didn’t… look… down.

I slowed to a stop. Something felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. It tickled at my awareness, setting my nerves on edge, but I couldn’t-

“Really, E. I thought you’d have noticed me by now.”

That voice, emerging from the night like a wraith, made me bristle. It was so familiar, almost as recognizable as my own. Who…? 

Turning toward the voice’s origin, I stumbled with the world violently spinning.

“Are you… drunk? That’s priceless!”

Manic laughter filled the air, and hearing it, I knew who was speaking. I reached out for my source with panic swimming in my veins, but it chose not to respond to me in this, the moment of my greatest need.

“Draw from me, Eriadren,” Creation snapped, appearing beside me.

I was already doing that, pulling enough Ele to myself to banish intoxication’s effects.

“Oo! Neat trick! Can’t wait to try it on Corruption.”

“Why are you here?” I shouted.

Making a circle, I scanned vacant windows and doors, soon coming up empty. Where in the void was the bastard?

“I hear congratulations are in order. You’re going to be an uncle, E! How sweet.”

He wasn’t hidden in a house. He was on one. The rooftop to my left, in fact.

I leapt and lurched until I landed on the home’s pinnacle, and there he was, the voice’s source.

“Answer the question, Doldimar,” I said.

My enemy (friend) made a face.

“You’re no fun, but if you insist, we can commence with our business,” Doldimar said. “Have you noticed how different this cycle’s been? Of course you have. You sent me that note. Your messenger’s fine, by the way. He’s one of my newest Enforcers.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. When I’d caught that boy stalking me after Teron’s death, I’d sent the kid running with a message for Arivor, but turning the boy into an Enforcer hadn’t been the end that I’d hoped for him.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“You’re always so bitter, E,” Doldimar said, “It’s almost enough to hurt my feelings.”

And he almost looked like he was hurt, the bastard. I hated it, hated what Daevetch had made of my oldest friend, hated all the atrocities that he’d committed, the ones I’d have to help Arivor deal with once this cycle ended.

Fuck this curse.

“Are you planning on harassing Raimie again?” I asked.

I didn’t expect an answer, but I had to get my mind off of the cycle. Off of Ele and Daevetch.

“I won’t let you hurt him or the baby-”

“Hardly,” Doldimar said, inspecting his fingernails. “My plan for the upstart king is already in motion.”

I became a man-shaped carving with my thoughts the only part of me to stir, skittering against the ice of my skull. Returning to the palace would be my first course of action, obviously. I’d have to warn Raimie before taking him and the family somewhere safe, somewhere they could hide and wait. Make a plan to-

“No. I’m here for you, E,” Doldimar continued.

Snapping my head up, I looked—truly looked—at my adversary (comrade). Doldimar’s full lips were curled into an eager smile, and despite the night’s weak light, his eyes were twinkling. 

Damnit.

“Are you here to kill me?” I asked.

If he wanted to eliminate the Champion of Ele before the opposite could occur, tonight would be the best chance he’d ever stumbled upon. Before I’d left for dinner, I’d stored my weapons in my room. Without them, I could put up a decent fight, but Lighteater was hanging on Doldimar’s hip. With it there, the fight’s end was already determined.

“I’m here to extend an invitation,” Doldimar said, dashing my guilty hopes. “Since this cycle has diverged so significantly from those of the past, I thought we might visit a long-abandoned home before we cut to the end game."

“Did you know it’s still there? The little cottage, the paintings, the garden. It’s all preserved. I thought that since this has a high chance of becoming our final cycle, we should go to the city Lirilith loved.”

I took a step forward without thinking.

“You don’t say her name.”

Shrugging, Doldimar backed into the shadows cast by a chimney.

“I’ve extended the invitation. You can choose to accept. Or not,” he said. “Our home city is where I’ve been hiding for the last four years: scheming, gathering troops, and turning ordinary Kiraak into Enforcers. Meet me there and see. Maybe if you’re fast enough, you can stop me from inflicting the tragedy that I have planned for poor, tormented Raimie.”

Making a mockingly sympathetic face, he vanished.

“No!” I shouted.

Sprinting along the rooftop’s length, I shoved a hand into the shadows, casting out for the dispersed particles of my enemy (friend), but Doldimar was gone. I screamed my frustration, punching the chimney’s brick, and the resulting sharp pain in my knuckles served as another reminder that I was the weakest I’ve been since the disastrous experiment that had poisoned me with Ele.

Hissing, I sucked on my hand. My course was clear. I could stay here, follow the plan, train primeancers, and prepare for an inevitable assault but…

Doldimar had something specific planned for Raimie. He’d been so confident that he’d accomplish it, but I knew where he was, meaning I had a chance to stop this supposed tragedy before it began.

I didn’t have much choice in the matter, even if it was most definitely a trap. I’d go home and end this cycle.

Adventures of the Hand 5.1

Ring

 

To enter the ballroom was to step into a different time and a beautifully exotic place. The palace staff had outdone themselves with the decorations this year. One need only compare their efforts to the foreigners’ contribution to see the care and attention that had been imbued into the task.

Let it not be said, however, that Auden’s allies had come bearing less than their best gifts.

The Matvai had made a significant appearance this evening, wrapped in their furs and charm-entwined hairstyles. As a sign of continued goodwill between their peoples, the northerners had gifted the Audish with intricately carved ice sculptures that dominated each serving table as well as a small ice palace to ensconce the room’s musicians.

Ada’ir’s representatives had brought beautifully embroidered tablecloths and tapestries to liven the ballroom’s otherwise stark state. The drape of colorful silk and muslin softened the room’s hard lines, providing guests with a sense of hominess.

The food, along with its presentation, was proudly Audish work. This fall, the realm had celebrated its first bountiful harvest, and evidence of their plenty was artfully piled on top of cloth-draped tables, towering so high that the tables threatened to groan.

Floral arrangements, artificially frosted over, joined Ada’ir’s tapestries in hiding the frescoes that the king had off-handedly called garish several months ago. Raimie might not have meant what he’d said or intended what had happened afterward, but his staff was attentive to his every need, including the aesthetic. When his attention had been diverted elsewhere, they’d been slowly replacing the frescoes, hiding their work with disguises when circumstances had called for it. Today, flowers masked their reconstructive efforts.

Doors opening onto the gardens had been flung wide in preparation for the Qenan display later this evening. Scientists from the quaint town could be found in every corner, bragging to anyone who would listen about their discovery: their ‘fireworks’.

Above everyone’s heads hung the king’s contribution. For those firmly planted on the ground, those little lights seemed to airily float by themselves, but of course, that was an illusion, an impossibility. Each glowing source was a small candle, surrounded by a globe of scavenged paper, with that thin barrier effectively diffusing the light. Lines of sturdy wire had been strung through those globes at uneven intervals and inclines from wall to wall.

Raimie had spent hours making impressive acrobatic leaps and disappearing acts to properly rig them, but their effect made his work seem worthwhile. The lights stole the gazes of guests when they first entered the hall, and many exclaimed about how the stars had descended to float among them. A handful had even grown faint at this idea.

And the people! Even after four years of unimpeded recovery, the average Audish citizen couldn’t claim much in the way of wealth, but on this most special of occasions, when the king and queen had invited anyone and everyone into their home, they came dressed in their best.

Deciphering which people belonged to which faction was a rather simple undertaking.

The Matvai with their loud Vasnavai wore their fur-lined caps and knee-length tunics, wrapped with colorful sashes at their waists, and their traditional weapon of choice—the ax—hung between their shoulder blades. They crowded around tables that had been carefully laden with hundreds of glasses, each filled with the vodka that they so thoroughly enjoyed. Drunken singing and shouts were already bursting from them, even at this early hour.

The visitors from Ada’ir wore their elaborately stuffy gowns and suits. Their small number stayed on the fringes, isolating themselves with their air of superiority.

The average Audish citizens, gathered from Elisk to the border, sported a similar dress to their cousins from Ada’ir, but theirs was noticeably faded and threadbare in comparison. It also reflected the style of their beloved king. More militaristic when compared to the embroidered and bejeweled gowns of the guests from Ada’ir, their clothing claimed only natural colors. For the most part, the Audish stuck to the black and navy-blue palette that Raimie favored.

A few primeancer students had gathered the courage to descend from their spires and join the fun. Their uniforms stuck out from the rest of the crowd like a sore thumb, following the same lines as the Audish military uniform: the same trousers but in a more pliable material, the same silky undershirt but without a jacket to conceal it. Instead, a circular pin stabbed the undershirt’s fabric where the jacket’s lapel would rest. The pin’s color—white or black—declared the wearer’s primeancy affiliation.

Since this was a formal occasion, many of the students had borrowed jackets that just happened to hide their pins. Even with their pitiful attempt to blend in, people gave the primeancers a wide berth, a fact that surprisingly, they had yet to notice. Students from both sides of the primeancy line giggled and happily screeched with one another. Some of the small ones were openly using Ele or Daevetch as they chased one another through the crowd, and guests scrambled to clear a path for these frolicking children.

If the norms uneasily avoided the primeancers, they hostilely ostracized the Esela, but those implacable people didn’t seem to mind. Over the years, they’d come to expect behavior like this. It didn’t matter that the same antipathy they’d experienced in other realms was also exhibited here. What did matter was that the royal family had invited them to such an important, human celebration in the first place.

Along with the rest, they wore their finest garments, but of all the factions gathered here tonight, their attire was the most eclectic. A handful of Audish military uniforms represented the Zrelnach, and Ada’ir’s finery was sprinkled among the strangeness that the rest were clad in.

Big, poufy pants and bare chests; white robes that fell to the tile; floor-length, silk kimonos, embroidered with scenes of pure fantasy; skimpy cloth strips that covered the bare minimum, all poorly hidden by an airy gauze…

When I stepped into the ballroom for an initial threat assessment, a dancer in gossamer finery was what caught my eye, and on seeing that outfit, my stomach lurched. Hurrying back around the corner, I dry heaved into a fist.

“Is there a problem?” Raimie asked before Ren shushed him.

Her skirt’s rustling fabric was my only indication that the queen had come near.

Gently rubbing my back, Ren asked, “What’s the matter?”

“Visions of a past I thought long forgotten,” I said, wiping my mouth. “I’ll be fine, and you two are safe to enter. No signs of hostile intent.”

Ren hesitated, resting her hands on the bump that her gown was purposefully hiding, and internally, I sang with gratitude for how much my friend cared.

“Go, go!”

I shooed them away with a wave.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

After another concerned pout from Ren, the couple strode into the ballroom. Raimie grabbed his wife’s hand as they turned the corner, and taking a deep breath, I followed them, slinking to the room’s fringes.

I found it funny how quickly the room fell silent when Raimie entered it, remembering a time when his childlike lisp had gone unnoticed in a crowd, and now, his presence elicited an intense response from everyone caught in it. To be fair, Raimie had matured since his Hand training in Daira. At some point, he’d finally, finally reacquired the confident air that he’d lost alongside his mother in his long-past accident, and when he smiled, he oozed charm. He placed a hand on Silverblade’s hilt—not Shadowsteal, always so careful not to touch that sword—and everyone around him knew that they’d found the safest place on earth to be. 

The best part? This charm, confidence, sense of safety? All of this was unintentional. This was Raimie, king of Auden, in his natural state.

So, when he led his queen forward to stand in front of the crowd and tugged on his sleeve, no one else saw a nervous habit. They saw a man perfecting his image, a man comfortable enough to smooth clothing that was bothering him, an altogether forgettable action. When he clasped his hands behind his back, they didn’t know that Raimie was clenching them to stop them from trembling. They only knew that their king wanted to address them. Even the raucously drunk Matvai drifted closer so they could listen to his speech.

“This ball celebrates many things, chief among them freedom from a tyranny that lasted centuries,” Raimie said, “but with that celebration, we must also include the tenacity of the Audish people, a spirit that never gave up, even in the darkest of times.”

He paused for a moment, assuming a faraway look that meant he’d changed his mind and would execute his new plan whether it was a good idea or not. It was a look that the Hand had grown to dread over the years, and so, I casually brushed my fingers over my weapons, scanning the crowd in preparation for what might come.

Relaxing, Raimie dropped his clenched hands to his sides.

“I assume most of you know I’m not from here. Sure, descended from Audish citizens, their king even! But not. from. here,” he said. “When I unearthed Shadowsteal in Ada’ir and reluctantly commenced my journey, I honestly didn’t know what to expect from this place. Because of a years-long embargo between our kingdoms, Auden had become a land of fables and myth in my homeland. So, when Rhy and I were stranded on Auden’s shore, away from our group and with no clue where we were, I greeted this great realm with hesitation. Do you know how it responded?”

He stopped, as if expecting a response, but no one dared raise their voice. When it became apparent that none would respond, Raimie answered his own question.

“It attacked me. With throwing knives.”

The crowd laughed. To the foreigners, the presented image was a funny oddity of this strange land, but to the Audish, it painted a perfect representation of their much-loved home.

After a moment, Raimie raised a hand to call for quiet.

“When I fell asleep that night, tired and afraid, I hated Auden. I thought that I’d sailed to a land that didn’t deserve saving, but over time—”

Facing Ren, Raimie took her hands.

“—I learned that maybe Auden wasn’t as horrible as I’d thought. Maybe I’d found something in this beautiful kingdom worth fighting for. Over time, I grew to love Auden more than any other realm.”

Ren teared up, but with Raimie clasping her hands, she couldn’t wipe her eyes. A single drop spilled over, running down her cheek, before Raimie caught it and swiped it away.

He turned to the crowd.

“For anyone who missed the metaphor, Ren’s the one who attacked her brother and me on our first day in Auden. She shouldn’t, however, be blamed for her hasty actions. When I look back on it, I can say with certainty that we were acting extraordinary Kiraak-like that day, skulking about the shore as we were."

“I’m sharing this story because I want you to understand why I chose her to be my wife. I’ve heard nasty rumors of ‘Esela witchcraft’ floating about court, rumors that frankly, aren’t true. Ren has never used magic on me, a fact that can be verified by the many people who’ve stood beside us since our first meeting. Our growing love wasn’t some instantaneous trick, some entrancing spell. The romance between us was one of years, much the same as what lies between Auden and me.”

The crowd had gone tense, and feeling that atmosphere coming to the point of boiling over, I carefully watched a pair of red-faced Matvai warriors near the front, drawing my pistol to loosely hold it.

“Doldimar—”

A flinch rippled through the crowd at the sound of that horrible name.

“—destroyed Auden,” Raimie continued. “This realm may have the same name, but it is not the same kingdom as the one of old. Every day, I build our new Auden from its ashes, and this realm will be one of tolerance. You don’t have to like the Esela to live next to them, but you do have to LEAVE THEM ALONE and give them their peace. The law states that in Auden, Esela and humans are equal. If you don’t like this rule, move somewhere else.”

Raimie swept his glare across everyone gathered, fixing it on the two fidgeting Matvai, and they quailed before it, taking a step back. As quickly as it had been wiped off of Raimie’s face, a delighted grin bloomed on it once more, and the crowd relaxed.

“I’m sure you’re eager to hear the announcement that I promised, so enough with the reprimand and on to the good news.”

Wrapping an arm around Ren’s waist, Raimie pulled her close

“Go on,” he said. “Tell them.”

Nervously, Ren cleared her throat.

“King Raimie and I are expecting our first child and-”

Cheers drowned out the rest of her announcement. As people rushed forward to congratulate them, the Hand, including me, worked to keep the crowd’s push down to an acceptable trickle. Soon enough, other diversions distracted the couple’s guests, and the three Hand members who were unencumbered by bodyguard rotations were freed to participate in the ball’s activities.

Adventures of the Hand 5.2

Ring

 

With the royals' announcement over, the musicians in their corner resumed the piece that they’d set aside for the king’s speech, and people drifted onto the dance floor. I perched on a table beside an ice sculpture, happy to pick at a nearby roast while I watched.

“You know you want to join them,” Oswi- Middle said as he stepped up beside me.

I jumped, having failed to detect his approach. Having him unexpectedly in my vicinity made my insides go warm, which made me need an excuse for my sudden blush.

“Right,” I said. “Like anyone would want to dance with this.”

I gestured at my crip uniform, my face sans powder and pastes, and my hair, pulled into a tight bun, but after following my gesture down my body, Middle merely offers me his hand.

I let him pull me into a whirling throng of people. This dance didn’t fit the style that I’d trained for as a child, but I knew its steps. I began its first clap and twirl combination, realizing the Middle had been right. 

When was the last time I’d danced? When was the last time I’d let myself dance? Why had I forbidden it from myself in the first place? 

On this floor, I was the master. Let the world see my beauty, my skill, my excellence.

The dance called for me to temporarily join with Middle, and I complied, even if I kept a defiant smirk affixed to my lips. Let this man have the illusion of leading me. I determined where we’d go next.

“Can’t show off too much, Ring,” Middle said with a laugh. “Raimie has a surprise performance planned.”

Which meant I couldn’t upstage whichever dancer he’d planned to take the stage.

Of course he did.

Reluctantly, I relinquished control, letting my partner lead me through the remainder of the song. He twirled me more than I’d like, but Middle was a good dancer, despite that small failing.

After a few stanzas, I surrendered, but it wasn’t to music this time. With him holding me tight, my blood sang while lightning zipped over my skin, and so much joy burbled from the place where happiness was born that I wanted to cry from it. By the time the song faded, my face felt like it might split from my beaming grin.

I wanted to do another, but Middle persuaded me to leave the dance floor.

“Raimie will start the performance soon,” he said. “Let’s stand with him.”

“Will there be danger?” Ring asked.

Giving me a funny look, Middle said, “No! I just thought you’d like to be near him and Ren.”

And I smiled at the reminder that I didn’t belong solely to the Hand.

As Middle and I approached them, the Vasnavai had hold of Raimie’s hands, refusing to let them go.

“-must give him a drop uf vodka every day, ur he wun’t grow strung,” she was saying. “And if yu ever need someone tu watch him, I would luve to du it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Raimie said.

Giving his hands a firm shake, the Vasnavai released them, joining her drunken companions beside the vodka tables.

Eyeing an already half-empty supply of glasses, Raimie said, “I don’t know if we’ve provided enough for them.”

“Drop of vodka a day! Really. It’s no wonder their people have trouble with the simplest of academics,” I huffed. “Please, tell me you won’t be taking her advice, sir.”

“Ren would kill me if I tried,” Raimie said. “Since when have you cared about academics, Ring? You were always more focused on combat training when we were kids.”

I glared at him.  When Oswi- Middle had told me that Raimie had recovered his memories, I hadn’t realized how much of an annoyance it could be. Still, I was glad he remembered our times together, back in Ada’ir.

“Where is Ren, by the way?” I asked.

“She went to bed,” Raimie said. “Something, something, baby’s making her throat burn.”

“Nasty,” Middle said, wrinkling his nose.

Lightly punching him, I hissed, “Don’t let your dislike of children ruin the king’s time of happiness!”

Raimie’s lips twitched.

“It is a bit gross,” he said.

At my disgusted glower, they both dissolved into snickers, and I rolled my eyes, waiting for them to stop laughing. Until it was out of their systems, I wouldn’t get a sensible word from either of them.

When the music faded again, Raimie perked up with his laughter abruptly dying.

“That’s my cue,” he said. “Oswin’s told me that you’re from the Southern Kingdoms, Ring, something you failed to mention in the past.”

He mock-glared at me, which I only shook my head at.

“You should especially enjoy this.”

Taking a few steps forward, he raised his arms.

“If I can have everyone’s attention, please,” Raimie called, waiting for the noise to die down. “We’ll now begin the night’s festivities with a performance from one of our newest citizens. Hailing from Hanif in the Southern Kingdoms, she’s come to show us northerners how to really dance.”

While indulgent chuckles rolled over me, I tensed. The woman I’d seen before, in sheers and jangling bracelets, stepped onto the dance floor, and seeing her, I felt my hand drift toward my pistol through a haze. After a tensely excited beat of quiet, a wild, fast-paced melody burst from the musicians’ corner, and the dancer moved, and my pistol was out, and I was pointing it at the back of Raimie’s head, and its hammer was fully cocked, and a hand was on my forearm, and a mouth pressed against my ear.

“Remember—”

“—your family,” Nasifin says. “If you don’t perform as expected, I’ll ensure that they die in debtor’s prison.”

He flings me forward with my ankle shackles already removed, and I manage to gracefully come to a stop in front of the Little Lord’s throne. Trapped in his gaze, I sprawl across the floor with my forehead to the tile and my arms stretched overhead.

“At least this one’s pretty, Nasifin,” the Little Lord says. “Let’s see how well she dances.”

A double snap precedes the mournful tone that signals the beginning of the dancer’s art. I slowly sit up, reaching for the ceiling, and bend back until my skull touches my heels. Then, I swing my body in a sweeping circle.

‘Make sure you accent your hips, butterfly,’ Papi says with his voice echoing in my head.

I corkscrew up with my hips as my center point, arching my back on the final circle. The tone from before cuts off, and I set the beat, clapping my hands overhead so that my steel and chain bracelets jingle. Now that the pace is set, the song begins in earnest, but I rise to my feet slowly, sensually, defying the beat. I meet the Little Lord’s eyes.

‘This is the most important part, butterfly,’ Papi whispers. ‘Make them see what they want to see.’

As the Little Lord hungrily watches me, I toss him a knowing smile before beginning my dance. I make it my best, undulating and whirling and rolling in ever more eye-pleasing movements. Desperation nips at my heels, but I kick it away. No time to indulge it.

For I am the essence of a dancer. I live and breathe for the dance, and this is to be my last.

I’m not sure how long it lasts. Time loses meaning when I plunge into the rhythm’s flow.

‘Don’t get too immersed, butterfly. It’s bad for your health.’

I kick Papi away too. His advice is well and good when applause and accolades come next but what will follow this…

I dance. My feet stick to the floor, but I adjust to account for it. The music stops, so I compose more in my head.

“Beautiful, talented, and determined,” the Little Lord says. “I’ll take her, Nasifin. Someone see him paid, and stop her. I want her in my bedchamber this instant.”

My stomach drops. Despite knowing my skill, I hoped that my dance wouldn’t impress the Little Lord. He’s the Little Lord, after all. What wonders must he see every day? I hoped… but hope is dead.

Reluctantly, I murder the musicians in my mind, and my body stops. I turn myself off.

Despite how hard I try to avoid them, small things sneak into my hiding place. Sounds. Scents. A bit of touch.

“She’s gone doll, poor thing,” someone says.

“Don’t worry. He won’t care.”

Cool silk under my back. The sound of ripping organza and satin. Grunts and tugging and nothing for a very long time. Finally, a snore.

I sit up, gazing dead-eyed at my surroundings. A room so lavish that it makes me sick. A bed with a man lying beside me.

I try to stand up, to drift away, but wince upon applying pressure to my feet. Lifting them, I nod with satisfaction to see their soles mangled and torn. Reaching for what remains of my clothes, I wrap satin around my feet.

Standing, I start hobbling away when liquid trickles down my leg. Curious, I follow its trail to its origin point, and my hand comes away bloody. With my stomach heaving, I fling my clean hand over my mouth to keep the nastiness inside, but it beats down my defenses, and I can’t hold it back. I can’t…

When the fit concludes, I register with dull surprise that I didn’t wake the Little Lord and subsequently, am relieved because that would have ruined the plan.

Forcing myself to sit beside him, I reach for the pin that’s binding my hair in place. It emerges from my curls sharp, shiny, and deadly. At this point, I’m supposed to be a good, little slave. I’m supposed to plunge this dagger into my heart and fall so that in the morning, the Little Lord is caught in bed with a prostitute’s corpse. All part of the day-to-day politics of what the northerners call the ‘Southern Kingdoms’.

I hover the dagger’s point over my heart. I must do this. My family needs me to do this, or they’ll be sentenced to debtor’s prison. Mami, Papi, Mosfaika, Rinata, even little Levi starving in that dark hole…

Fuck them. I’ve suffered enough. Stretching over the sleeping body of the bastard who raped me, I slit his throat. While he gurgles his death cries, I drag the sheet out from under him. How on earth am I supposed to escape from this place?

Circling the room, I stop beneath one of the decorative grates that those of noble birth use to bring fresh air into their homes. It’s so high up. Can I…? Yes.

If I drag that heavy desk into place, I can reach it, and yes, I might break my fingernails while prying the grate off. Yes, I might have to dislocate a shoulder to fit through it, but on the other side lies freedom.

I can do it. And once I’ve wrestled my freedom to the ground and claimed it, I’ll never let it go.

“—it’s in the past, Ring,” Middle whispered in my ear. “You’re pointing a pistol at your little Raimie. Will you shoot the only boy who could make you laugh when we were kids?”

I blinked, returning to the present moment, and the pistol slipped out of my grip. Fortunately, Middle caught it before it could hit the ground, returning its hammer to a half-cocked position. When he offered it to me, I hesitantly accepted it.

I furtively scanned the room, relieved to see that the exchange had gone unnoticed. My legs gave out, but once again, Middle was there to catch me. After helping me to a chair, he lowered me into it, and I propped my elbows on my thighs, hiding my face in my hands.

“It was the Little Lord, wasn’t it?” Middle asked.

When I nodded, he said not a word, merely placing a hand on my shoulder: a single point of warmth to keep me firmly grounded in the now.

When once loved music culminated in a final crescendo and polite applause rewarded the dancer’s efforts, I relaxed. I should be able to stay in control now.

“What was that?! If it had been anyone other than Ring, you’d be reaming her for her dereliction of duty. I bet you don’t even plan to reprimand her for it.”

Peeking through my fingers at Little, I cringed. What had I been thinking? At least three other people had witnessed what I’d done.

I found Pointer standing near Raimie, and he stared at me with no condemnation. Instead, disappointment lit his eyes. Every member of the King’s Hand was damaged in one way or another, except perhaps for their leader. We were supposed to be resilient enough to keep those wounds from impairing our abilities as spies, and I had failed in that regard.

“What she’s experiencing now is more than enough punishment,” Middle said.

“I let Raimie investigate a tear by himself at his insistence, and you’ve made me do the Hand’s paperwork ever since,” Little snapped. “She points a gun at the king, and her consequence is to sit there, feeling sorry for herself?”

“With your lapse, Raimie almost died,” Middle said. “With hers, no one was hurt, and no one saw it.”

Alouin bless him for coming to my defense, both when I desperately needed it and when I truly didn’t. With his hand still on my shoulder, I followed the line of his arm to his face. He answered his adoptive son so calmly, but I saw the wrinkles of worry and anger creasing the corners of his eyes.

They met mine, and as usual, I was swept up in a wave of uncontrollable—

—hunger. My body is an unwieldy sack of brittle bones and paper-thin skin. The cost of dragging that sack to my corner has finally out-weighed the gains that I’ve wrought from begging there. Something needs to change.

I have no marketable skills besides dancing, and using that talent isn’t an option. I’ll never dance again, not like that, even if it means I’ll starve.

If I get desperate enough, I could rent my body out to sex-starved men, for them to use however they wish. I think I could stomach that indignity, used goods that I am, but first, I’ll try a slightly risker plan.

For the last few months, I’ve been begging in an out-of-the-way city sector, changing my spot every day. With the hunt for the Little Lord’s assassin cooling down, however, I’ll try a spot closer to the alcazar, somewhere passersby are more likely to part with their chits.

Settling in the grand structure’s shadow, I pull my bowl into my lap and wait. I can’t cry out or draw attention to myself like the other beggars. What would happen if I attracted a guard or an alcazar staff member? 

With my pretty face and gaunt figure, chits soon clink into my bowl without any supplication on my part. Faster than I thought possible, its shallow depths fill, and I get ready to return to the rag pile that I’ve begun to call home.

As I draw my shawl over my head, a pair of silver chits drop into my bowl, and I lift my face to cheerily thank the generous donors, but on seeing them, fear freezes me solid. The guards have almost turned away to resume their patrol, but one pauses when he catches sight of my face.

“Say, Rafichi, isn’t that-?”

I don’t wait for them to confirm their suspicions. Flinging the bowl at them, I’m up and running before it and my precious chits have hit the ground. Shouts of surprise rise behind me, and as I round onto the closest cross-street, a bell peals the alarm to every guard in the vicinity.

I can’t stop, can’t blend into the crowd. Slapping feet are following too closely behind me. I try everything I can to lose them: diving through merchant stalls, knocking obstacles into their path, nimbly vaulting over short fences. Nothing helps. In fact, the noise of pursuit increases in volume with every second of the chase.

They catch me in a dead-end alley, one that I thought would lead into a busy market on the other side. With my back plastered against a wall, I take panicked breaths as they draw closer with leery smiles.

“They say she lulled the Little Lord into sleep with the power of her sex,” one whispers.

“Do you think they’ll mind if we use her before bringing the body back?” another asks.

The voice of terror wordlessly screeches in my head. I’ve been so careful, always watching for guard patrols, but my hunger was all-conquering…

That hunger will get me attacked again before they murder me.

A loud bang splits through the alley’s tense air, and a guard falls to the side, clutching at his knee with a howl. The others stare at the hole that his hand covers, where his shin and foot are dangling by strings of muscle and skin from his thigh.

While they’re distracted, I dart past them toward the boy who’s pointing a smoking, metal tube their way. He extends his free hand.

“Follow me, Silivren!” 

There’s no hesitation, no worry of a trap or danger. I take the stranger’s hand and run.

What rode me now wasn’t true hunger like that time, long ago, when we’d been lost teenagers. It was more desire or incredible need.

I’d unreservedly followed Middle on the day that he’d rescued me and on every subsequent day until I’d come to understand why I was sometimes a nervous wreck around him. After that realization, I’d considered running from him, even though I’d become the Ring for the Hand that he led. At the time, I’d thought it likely that I could avoid the search that would surely accompany my dereliction of duty. Fear for my life hadn’t been what had kept me from fleeing.

The reason I’d stayed had tightened my step every closer to his heel. I’d been the first to agree with his crazy plan of forming a Hand for a boy destined to be king, the most eager to hop on a boat that would transport the lot of us to Auden. I’d accepted every assignment, completed every favor. All in the hopes that he’d notice me.

Our tale, if it was to be told, needed to be perfect, a gloriously fitting reward for my suffering, but the timing had never been quite right. Always, some new danger, some urgently required project, some new fear had interfered with us.

As I sat, listening to Midd- Oswin once again come to my defense, I realized that the timing would never be right. As the Middle and Ring of Raimie’s Hand, danger and fear would always tail us. If I wanted a story of Oswin and Silivren, I needed to carve it out for myself.

I was sure that Oswin would wonder why it had taken me so long to come to this conclusion for years to come.

“Little’s right,” I said, interrupting the petty argument between the other two spies. “You favor me too much. My actions this evening have been inexcusable. Come. Let’s discuss what my punishment should be.”

Rising, I floated toward the ballroom’s exit.

Was I doing this? Really?

Yes. Shut up, doubt.

Was he following?

Don’t turn around to check, stupid.

The party and its noise fell behind me, and I smiled on hearing Oswin hurrying to catch up.

Adventures of the Hand 5.3

Ring

On drawing even with me, Oswin asked, “You don’t really think you need a sanction, do you?”

“No, but I couldn’t come up with a better way to separate you from Little. You two would have argued all night if I hadn’t intervened,” I said. “Plus, the kid’s right, Oswin. You do favor me. Why?”

“Ring… it’s Middle between the members of the Hand,” Oswin said. “You know that.”

I shoved him sideways, pinning him to the wall, and at the end of the hall, a pair of guests gasped before skittering away.

“Oswin,” I said with my body demanding answers. “Why?”

He stiffened into rock beneath my immobilizing arms.

“You know why,” he hissed through his teeth.

I did? Thinking back, I carefully analyzed our interactions’ typical rhythm.

Oswin was so formal with me. He tiptoed around me, as if afraid of breaking me, but no. He knew I wasn’t so easily hurt. If he wasn’t concerned about hurting me, who else could he fear for? Our exchanges only include the two of us. Was he afraid for himself?

Shock turned me into glass. His insistence on fixing his eyes on my face when I’d tried to tempt him in the past. The shoulders that had drifted to his ears when he’d learned that I’d used my body to successfully complete a mission. His eyes burning into mine now...

How had I been so stupid?

In a daze, I reached for the latch beside Oswin, pulling him with me into the room behind it. Inside, we found a storage closet filled with brooms, mops, buckets, an assortment of folded tablecloths, and an extensive number of other items that the palace staff might need to keep this building maintained. Claiming a mop, I threaded it through the door’s handle, angling it so that it blocked the door.

“What are you doing, Ring?” Oswin asked with genuine confusion, poor dear. “I know we’re technically free of our responsibilities for tonight but-”

Resting a finger on his lips to silence his protest, I took a shuddering breath.

“I need you to say it,” I whispered.

“Say what?” he asked. “I don’t-”

I pressed my finger harder against his lips.

“Don’t play ignorant with me,” I said with a wan smile. “We’ve known each other far too long for that to work.”

When I lifted my finger, he uncertainly eyed me.

“You first,” he said.

I couldn’t say the words before he did, couldn’t bear the pressure, but I had other ways to convey what I meant. Lifting trembling hands, I traced them over his face, over every longed-after speck of it, before rising to my toes and kissing him.

This wasn’t the hungry, passionate kiss that I gave away, like cheap sweets, to every man that my job had required me to seduce. It was gentle. Slow. But firm enough that he’d know exactly what I was saying with it.

When I pulled away, I examined his slackened features, searching for… something.

“Now, you,” I said.

Oswin cleared his throat.

“How long-? How blind have I-?” he stuttered. “What about the other… men?”

“They meant nothing. Nothing, Oswin. You should know after fifteen years as a spymaster that sex is merely another tool in a spy’s hands,” I said, shaking my head at his hesitation. “Now, you.”

“A-are you sure? I’m not the easiest person to deal with once you get to know me,” Oswin said, flicking his gaze around the supply closet. “And look at this place, Ring! It’s not exactly romantic.”

My spirit shrank. Maybe I’d been wrong, only reading what I’d wanted to from him.

“A spy’s life is short, especially one who’s in a Hand. It's a wonder that no one in this Hand have died yet. Every other kingdom’s Ring is replaced within a five-year period, and yet, I’ve served for thirteen,” I said. “Such a length of time is unprecedented, but we shouldn’t let our luck make us cocky, Oswin. Our lives are spent in service to a primeancer king. Death could come for you five-person family at any moment.”

Oswin swallowed, gritting his teeth at the hard truths that I’d spoken.

“So, I’ll give you one more opportunity because while we can, we spies should have every chance to live our lives to the fullest,” I said. “Tell me what I want to hear now, or I’m returning to the ball, and we’ll never speak of this again.”

Still, he hesitated. I shook my head, more at my presumption than anything else, and turned to find the closest source of alcohol. I didn’t enjoy getting drunk, but tonight, I could make an exception to my usual sobriety rule.

“I love you, Silivren! Please, don’t go!”

Stopping short, I smirked. Took him long enough.

I flung myself at him, tugging, pulling, caressing every part, and he joined me with a gasp. The momentary shrieking alarm that always accompanied a man’s passion-fueled embrace never came with him because this time was different. This time it was him, the man I’d grown up with, trained with, laughed with, fought beside. He’d saved my life when I’d been a panic-driven thirteen-year-old girl, and I’d saved his many times over in repayment.

He knew me, and that understanding showed. He was gentle when I needed it, rough when I wanted it. After years where sex had been completely focused on my partner, now I was the only one who mattered, and it brought tears to my eyes. He wiped them away, disgruntled, before kissing me.

“Don’t think about the past. You’re here. With me.”

My giggling fit didn’t start until we were cuddling later.

“What is it?” Oswin asked, running fingers through my hair.

“I’ve wanted this for years, spent so many hours imagining how it would be,” I said, “and we end up here. In a broom closet.”

I let my laughter loudly peal, unable to stop it. Something about the situation just tickled my fancy.

“You’re the one who said we couldn’t wait,” Oswin said, pouting. 

“Oh, don’t get your feelings hurt,” I said, rolling to lay on top of him. “The setting may be funny, but the sex… Alouin, I didn’t expect anything like that from you.”

“So… it was good?” Oswin asked.

Men and their insecurities.

“Oswin. No one’s ever done what you did to me,” I said.

He beamed, I nestled into his chest, and the door rattled, making us both stiffen.

“Is someone hurt in there?” Kylorian bellowed, banging on wood. “Do I need to call for help?”

And hearing that voice, I breathed, “Do you mind?”

Oswin would know what I meant. I was nursing a pet project, the same as every other Hand member. Mine just happened to coincide with work. I would find the traitor plotting against my king, my little Raimie, even if it killed me.

Smiling, Oswin drew me in for one more kiss.

“Be careful, Ring,” he whispered.

‘Thank you,’ I mouthed.

On my feet, I quickly pulled my hair into a bun and straightened my clothes. As a last touch, I pinched my lower eyelids to redden them.

“Don’t get help, Minister!” I called, pulling the broom free of the door’s handle. “I’m coming out.”

After checking that Middle was safely hidden behind an equipment rack, I pulled the door open and recoiled from the intense smell of alcohol that met me. Kylorian wobbled as he peered at me.

“Have we met?” he asked.

“I’m Ring,” I said. “I escorted your sister to meet you the other day. The tavern, remember?”

Kylorian’s face brightened.

“Oh, yes. I remember now. You’ve very… funny,” he said, hiccupping. “Why do you-? Have you been crying?”

“I’m from the Southern Kingdoms, although my parents traced their ancestry back to Auden,” I said. “The dancer at the start of the festivities made me homesick, is all. I found a private corner where I could cry.”

Kylorian seemed like the type who’d prefer a damsel in distress. After years of practice, I could usually pigeonhole a man’s penchants after only a few minutes together, and I’d spent plenty of time with this one.

Speaking of the festivities, a thunderous boom shook the palace, and I crouched with my hand on my sword. So much for the damsel in distress angle.

“What was that?” I snapped.

“The Qenans’ ‘fireworks’, I'd guess,” Kylorian said with a shrug. “I heard something about them starting with that when I left.”

For a moment, he swayed in place, looking so lost that I almost reached out and comforted him, but he soon shook free of whatever had been bothering him, meeting my eyes.

“Can you help me to my room?” he asked. “The world’s spinning like a top right now.”

All of the Ministers had a set of quarters here, somewhere they could sleep if meetings between them took too long.

“Had one too many?” I asked.

“You could say that,” Kylorian said, suppressing a belch.

Ugh.

“It’s happened to the best of us,” I said. “Which way are we headed?”

“This way. I think.”

Kylorian unsteadily tottered away, and winking at Middle, I blew him a kiss before letting the door fall closed.

I hurried to catch up with the poor Minister, who was weaving from one side of the hall to the other. Once I’d drawn even with him, I tossed his arm over my shoulders, bearing the slight pressure that he placed on me without complaint.

Here was a prime example of why Kylorian was so low on my suspect list for the traitor. The man was in his cups too often to make an effective spy. Besides that, Kylorian was truly a sweet man, going out of his way to help those in need. Several of Elisk’s orphanages and charities had been established by Ren’s older brother, and he nightly joined his officers in patrolling the city’s streets. I suspected that Kylorian took solace in brandy as often as he did because he’d despaired of solving the heightening conflict between the Esela and humans in the capital.

If that weren’t enough, he and Raimie seemed to be good friends, often catching an initial drink together when policy meetings had run long. 

With a better suspect already in hand, I’d almost tossed Kylorian out of the suspect pool before tonight, but if I could cross him off of my list for sure, I could focus on my prime suspect, Gistrick, with a clean conscience.

The Zrelnach commander maintained his posting at Da’kul even this many years after Auden’s conquest, a posting that I knew he despised. On the rare occasion that they crossed Middle’s desk, Gistrick’s reports to the king contained nothing but complaints of boredom, but it was widely known that he makes lengthy, unsanctioned trips away from Da’kul. Add to that the bad blood between him and the king and the rapidly narrowing suspect pool, and Gistrick had quickly topped the list of my contenders.

Soon enough, I dragged Kylorian to a stop.

“Aren’t these your rooms?” I asked.

“Oh, look! We’re here,” the Minister said, slurring his words.

Withdrawing his arm from me, he banged the door open, but the ‘firework’ bang that accompanied it was louder. Kylorian hesitated before leaving me in the cold.

“Would you stay with me tonight? Not like that,” he rushed to clarify at the look on my face. “I- I can’t sleep most nights, and tonight was... harder than I expected it to be. I thought having someone in the room might help.”

“I’ll do you one better.”

Smirking, I breezed past him. 

So, here was a Minister’s room. It was rather plain, all told. A fireplace, a simple bed, and a rickety table with a crate beside it were all that occupy the space. I’d expected… more. Nothing here could expose the Minister as a spy.

“I’m an excellent masseuse,” I said. “If you can’t get to sleep after I’m done with you, I promise that I’ll stay overnight.”

Maybe I should botch the massage. Watching over the Minister would give me plenty of time to snoop around this room a little more.

“What would I need to-?” Kylorian asked.

“Take your tunic off, and lay face-down on the bed,” I absently said.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Kylorian said.

He rested a hand at the back of his neck, and irritably blowing a lock of hair out of my face, I circled behind him.

“I won’t judge your body, Ky,” I said, gently pulling his hand away. “I’ve seen many ugly scars in my…”

I trailed off. I wasn’t often wrong when making assumptions, but when I was, the error always caught me by surprise. This one shocked me to a standstill.

Hidden beneath Kylorian’s long hair and high collar, a snarl of Corruption pulsed beneath his skin.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” he tonelessly asked. "I haven't thought about it in years but..."

“I’ve certainly never seen a scar like that before,” I said, nervously laughing. “Not one so small at least. How have you kept it in check?”

Kylorian rounded on me with his jaw set, even as his hands tremble. His body language spoke indecision to a woman long-trained in reading others. I could handle hesitancy, even in an especially drunk person. Talking people down was my specialty.

“Let me get Raimie.”

Don’t mention a possible source of jealousy, and if one must, minimize the source to a simple name. Avoid titles at all costs.

“He can draw that evil crap out of you.”

Offer a viable solution to the problem.

“Ren’s often told me about how excited she is for her baby to meet Uncle Ky. That meeting will never take place if Kiraak Kylorian gives Auden to Doldimar.”

Mention loved ones and the consequences to them if the subject continued along his current course.

“Why did she have to be carrying a child now?” Kylorian breathed.

Now for the dangerous part. I took a deep breath, loudly speaking so that my voice carried over cracks and bangs. The fireworks display must be coming to an end.

“I’m leaving now, but I’ll return with help soon,” I said. “You stay here until I get back.”

I turned on my heel as the pops petered out. A final, deafening bang finished the display, and I got another two steps before dropping to my knees. Reluctantly, I looked down, staring with fascination at the gaping hole in my shoulder and chest.

Kylorian came into view, sobbing.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t be bothered to listen. Prodding at the charred skin around the hole, I tried to laugh—murdered by Oswin’s creation—but I couldn’t find the air. Confused, I tried to—

—take a breath. My rescuer is moving too quickly, and the barely healed soles of my feet are shedding their newly grown skin.

The sounds of pursuit faded long ago, and as if prompted by this development, the boy ducks into the alcove of a nondescript home’s front door. He raps once, pauses, three times, pauses, and twice. After a moment, the latch slides back, and the door opens.

We tumble into such luxury that it makes me cringe, taking my hand out of the boy’s to hug myself. Resolutely turning my back on silks and sheers, I come face-to-face with an unknown man, and shivers race along my spine, freezing me in place.

“Are the alarms in the city your fault?” he asks, eyeing me.

I can’t answer his question. He’s too close. If I move, even to open my mouth, I’ll turn into a wailing pile of flesh.

“Partially,” the boy says, out of view. “I had to shoot one of them.”

The stranger’s eyes aren’t on me anymore, and that gives me the strength to retreat to a safe distance, all while the man reprimands the boy.

“You USED it?” he says. “Great! This was supposed to be a quiet infiltration, a possible recruitment mission. With your slipup, the Southern Kingdoms will know someone’s gotten their hands on new weaponry.”

Southern Kingdoms? These two must be northerners. Why are they so far from home? Why did the boy help me?

What should I do? The man scares me. I can’t stand to be in his presence for much longer. Can I slip away while they’re arguing?

“I’m sorry, spymaster,” the boy says, scuffing his foot along the floor.

Spymaster? Really? Unprompted, a snort flies out of my nose, drawing their attention. So much for slipping away.

“What about her?” the supposed spymaster asks. “How did she do?”

The boy uncomfortably shifts, obviously torn.

“She tried a new tactic today. Good instincts. She wouldn’t have lasted much longer where she was,” he says. “Got caught while trying to leave. That caused the alarm.”

“So, she started this mess?” the spymaster says, shaking his head. “She’ll never make it in the Hand. Get her some food and coin, Oswin. We need to return home. Kaedesa will soon start wondering where we’ve gone.”

“But Aramar!” the boy whines.

The man’s casual dismissal of me riles me so badly that I momentarily forget my fear of him.

“Excuse me. I don’t know who you are or why you’ve been watching me, but it’s a little offensive that you’d reject me from your Hand, whatever that is, because of a small mistake,” I snap. “Am I not allowed to speak in my defense?”

The spymaster, Aramar, bemusedly eyes me.

“You may speak,” he says.

Anger’s quickly draining from me, so I launch into my explanation as quickly as I can.

“I seduced the Little Lord, and after he was finished with me, I slit his throat. While his body lay cooling, I escaped through a grate, dislocating my shoulder to fit through it,” I say. “I’ve survived for THREE MONTHS while the Little Lord’s guards were looking for me. The only reason they caught me today was because of bad luck.”

I almost squeak on the last word, but defiantly, I stare the spymaster down, even if I can’t move. His face goes through a variety of expressions, most of which I don’t understand, and not knowing what he’s thinking has me sipping little gasps of air.

“How old are you, child?” he eventually asks.

I only realize his muscles are straining against his skin when I hear the absolute monotone of his question.

“Thirteen,” I whisper.

Swallowing hard, I dart my gaze to the floor, and fatigue hits me like a surprise visit from boisterous cousins after an especially long dance practice. Swaying, I wince at the spikes of pain coming from my feet.

“Oswin,” the spymaster says.

In an instant, the boy is at my side, lifting me into his arms, and once that’s done, he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Aramar, her feet!” he says, horrified.

“It seems that I have business to attend to in the city,” Aramar hisses. “Try to save her feet as best you can, Oswin. She’ll need them if she’s going to be a member of the Hand. I’m going out. I trust you can make the pitch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I won’t be more than a couple of hours.”

The door slams, and for a moment, blissful silence occupies me as I huddle against the boy’s chest. The room moves around me, and I flinch at the sight of sheers floating past.

“I’m going to set you down, Silivren, but before I do, I want you to know that I won’t hurt you,” the boy says. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

I’m lying on a bed with silks meeting my back, and I want to scream and cry. For some inexplicable reason, though, I also trust this boy. I hold perfectly still while he washes my feet, dabs cloth in a salve, and wraps it in circles around my wounds.

“You’re Oswin?” I say. “That’s a strange name.”

“I had strange parents,” Oswin says with a shrug. “And you’re Silivren. Does that mean your parents are normal?”

“My parents, if they live, thought it was better to sell their daughter to a slaver than to find another way to pay off their debts,” I say, biting back a sob.

Oswin nods, as if knowing that I needed no response.

“Would you like to leave this city?” he asks. “You could train to become a stronger person, someone who can defend herself-”

“Does it mean I get to stay with you?” I ask.

Oswin nods again.

“Then, yes.”

—took a deep breath, but my lungs weren’t working properly.

It was all right. Oswin was here, standing over me, and he’d always take care of me. As long as I was near him, everything would turn out shiny.

I’d meant to tell him something before I’d left. It had been of supreme importance, central to who I was. He was so close now, holding something bright and glistening in front of my eyes, and I fought to remember what it was, but my thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling.

“Did you know I’ve always loved you, Oswin?” I gasped. “From the beginning, I’ve only ever loved you.”

I had more that I wanted to share, plans for our future, places that we should visit together, but my lungs had run out of air. That was fine. Oswin would know. He always knew.

A sob broke through my circling thoughts, the bright gleam moved forward, and a thunk filled my mind. Then, nothing.

Chapter 91: Left in the Dark

Kylorian

 

I looked down at the woman on the ground in front of me, who was struggling to breathe through the hole I’d put in her lung, and everything in me screamed white-hot pain and lurched-

The world is fuzz. I’m floating… somewhere. In the back of my mind? Outside of it? Just like every time HE touched me.

I watch Ivelais talk with their mortal enemy, a tall man with a being of shadow flickering beside him.

“If I do this, you’ll owe me, more than you already do,” he says. “I can’t perform one of my ordered functions in the coming chaos, as it requires me to be in two places at once.”

He rolls his eyes, perhaps annoyed by such contradictory orders. Even I know better than to try getting a subordinate to double themself. I think. It’s hard to be truly logical right…

“Maybe I should be grateful. The first of those tasks will involve me meeting my long-estranged son,” Ivelais’ mortal enemy says before dismissively waving a hand. “As for the other? I will pass it off to you.”

Ivelais bows, gritting their teeth.

“I accept the burden, my better,” they hiss.

Their mortal enemy cuts a hand through the air between the two.

“Don’t call me that,” he coldly says.

Then, he turns, inspecting something at his feet. Dark emptiness bubbles down his arms to make a black pool in his hands and I-

When I woke up the day after the Anniversary Ball, dreams clung to me, making it difficult to tell what was real and what were nighttime fantasies. Something felt… wrong. Something besides…

Wait. Why was I still in the palace?

I shot upright on the cot in my office, quickly scanning the room, but everything looked… fine. Nothing was out of place, exactly as it had been last night. Why had I thought it wouldn’t be? What was-?

“Kylorian.”

Freezing, I glanced over my shoulder, frowning when I saw Ivelais smooshed between my back and the wall.

Lying in my cot. In the palace.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed. “How did you get in? Did anyone see-?”

Sleepily, Ivelais waved a hand at me.

“Calm down,” they yawned. “I snuck in when you came to get me last night. With the celebration as a distraction, no one noticed a single, hooded person in the crowd. Don’t you remember?”

“I…”

Wincing, I shut my eyes, rubbing them. My head was killing me, a sign of all the alcohol I’d downed during last night’s fun, and I couldn’t remember much through the haze cast over the time I’d spent in its embrace.

Alouin, I must have drunk a lot. Usually, it took more to get me into that blacked-out state. I hadn’t achieved it since… since the last time I’d seen my adoptive father.

“My memory is a little patchy right now,” I admitted. “Why did I get you? Did something happen last night?”

Ivelais didn’t respond, staying quiet for so long that I peeked at them from between my fingers. They were looking at me with a frown, concern pinching their eyes.

“You hurt someone, Ky. Badl-”

Their words faded out, lost to the pain blooming behind my eyes. With a grunt, I closed them again. Hell, this hangover was worse than usual for me.

When Ivelais stopped speaking, I said, “Fine, fine. Is there anything I should take care of? Any problems that still need solving?”

For several long moments, Ivelais’ look of concern deepened. I could literally see their racing thoughts reflected through their eyes, but then, they closed off, going blank.

“No. I took care of it,” they said. “All parties involved have been satisfied or… removed. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

That… had felt like a lie.

Cocking my head at them, I tried to figure out why they’d keep me in the dark about the resolution to whatever disaster I’d caused last night. I knew it must have been bad. Alcohol helped both me and them with our inner monsters, but sometimes, those monsters more fully came out to play, especially when I was the one under the influence. I’d been in quite a few altercations since moving to Elisk, some of which had almost landed me in one of my own jail cells. Fortunately, nothing had gone that far.

Yet.

Had last night’s disaster finally tipped the scales out of my favor?

I didn’t know if Ivelais saw my doubt, but whether they had or not, they reached over, pulling one hand off of my face.

“Seriously, Ky. We’re good,” they solemnly said. “You know I’ll keep you safe, right? Just like you do for me.”

“Yes…” I drawled.

Of course they would. But could I trust them to accurately assess the severity of whatever I’d done? They’d gotten worse since moving in with me, especially with how our monsters fed off of each other. Perhaps their perception of morality had shifted alongside the worsening of their Kiraak symptoms.

“Then, you should know that I’d tell you if last night’s activities could get you hurt,” Ivelais said, breaking into my thoughts. “It wasn’t pretty, Ky. I’ll give you that. But I don’t think it will come back to bite you or me. I asked for a favor from… an old acquaintance. He’s vicious but thorough when cleaning up after himself or his friends. The best I know.”

For a moment, I could only gape at Ivelais.

“A Kiraak?” I hesitantly asked.

Because who else could they be referencing? And what had gone so badly last night that we’d gotten one of them involved?

Shrugging one shoulder, Ivelais said, “More or less. Please, Ky. I need you to trust me. I think… I think this is one of those times where if you push, it’ll make your inner monster worse.”

That shut me up, quickly silencing any other questions I might have asked. Ivelais had always been good at sensing when I was about to reach a meltdown.

Still.

“Hell, Ivelais. A Kiraak? In the palace?” I said under my breath.

Here. Near Raimie. Near Ren, who was with child.

Because of something I’d done.

I consigned my face to my hands again.

“This isn’t working anymore,” I said, waving between us.

When Ivelais failed to respond, I reviewed what I’d just said, hurrying to follow up with.

“I don’t mean us.”

Reaching for Ivelais, I clutched their hand tightly.

“We are still more than good,” I said with a slight smile at them.

That grin quickly faded away, though.

“I mean our efforts to keep ourselves under control,” I said. “It’s not working. Honestly, I don’t think they've ever worked. They've just kept our eventual collapses delayed.”

One corner of Ivelais’ mouth quirked upward.

“I may have been saying that for a while now,” they said.

Which only made me groan.

Quiet fell, stretching between us where the tension had lain not long ago. It quickly gained a toehold once more, ratcheting in intensity until I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Smacking my hands to my thighs, I snarled, “Damn him. Damn him for everything he ever did to me. If he’d only acted the way he should have, I wouldn’t have to deal with all of this bullshit, but no. He just had to have a piece of me.”

Somehow, I kept back the scream I wanted to unleash alongside those words. I kept my jaw locked, staring into nothing, until Ivelais’ face came into focus again. They looked stricken, and I wondered if I’d shocked them by speaking the smallest piece of my trauma aloud. In the past, we’d always danced around it.

They quickly relieved that worry, though.

“Ky…” they whispered. “Who do you think he is? Who do you think has caused this bloodlust? Your craving for atrocities that you’d usually never desire?”

That briefly startled me. I’d always thought they knew who I meant when saying that word with that particular inflection. Apparently not.

“Tanwadur, of course,” I said.

With widening eyes, Ivelais drew back. They bit their lip, narrowing their eyes at me for an uncomfortable moment, but then, intensity drew deep lines over their features. They grabbed my hand, squeezing it.

“You need to talk to King Raimie,” they said. “Now.”

And… I was lost. What did Raimie have to do with their last question?

“Why-?” I started.

Ivelais cut me off with a painful squeeze of my hand.

“For me,” they said. “I need you to bring him here. I need you to show him the black under my skin. I think if we try that approach, never outright telling him what we need from him, that we'll finally get his help. Because it’s become quite clear that you can’t ask it of him.”

When I sharply inhaled, they lifted their free hand.

“I don’t mean that you’re too weak to. I mean that something is stopping you from doing it,” they said. “And we badly need his help. We have for a while. So, go. Talk to him now, while we’re both in his palace. Bring him to a room I’m trapped in, unable to leave until much later tonight. Open his eyes to the trouble brewing in the center of his court. If we’re lucky… if he’s as merciful as you’ve always made him out to be, maybe it won’t be too late. Maybe he’ll help us both, and we can…”

I waited for them to continue that thought, but they seemed stuck on it.

“We can what?” I said, hoping to prompt them.

Ivelais shook their head.

“That’ll come later,” they said. “Can you do as I’ve asked?”

“Yes. That’ll be no trouble at all,” I absently said.

I was a little taken aback by their intensity. Sure, I may have accepted that Ivelais and I needed to change our approach when dealing with our inner monsters, but they seemed almost desperate to test this new idea, although maybe that wasn’t so shocking. After all, Raimie could help Ivelais, ridding them of the Corruption under their skin. They’d be human again, unafflicted by that dark power’s temptations.

But what about me? I’d already gotten Raimie’s help with my father. I wasn’t sure what else he could do to quell my inner monster.

Pushing on the hand they held, Ivelais snapped, “Now, Ky!”

“Right.”

I scrambled to my feet, heading for the door. When I reached it, I looked back at Ivelais with concern, but they only stared at me with the same pleading in their voice now on their face.

I hurried away.

I searched the palace for my quarry, spending far too much time doing it before looking for the next best thing.

Ren was holding court today, something she sometimes did for her husband when he was busy. When she broke the proceedings for the midday meal, I trapped my adoptive sister in a corner, asking about Raimie. It seemed odd that I couldn’t find him this morning. As a minister, I shouldn’t have needed so many hours to find my superior.

When I asked, Ren huffed, rolled her eyes, and gave me the unfortunate truth.

Raimie wasn’t here. He’d left at sunrise, apparently on his way to Nephiron.

Ivelais and I had lost our chance.

Chapter 92: Trouble with Her

Raimie

A picture of strife burned in my mind. The battlefield stretched beyond what I could see while the combatants on all sides fought with their faces twisted in anger or desperation. Most of them, I didn’t know, but a precious few were incredibly familiar.

The tenuous peace that I’d forged between the students of my primeancy school had fallen to pieces. The vastly outnumbered Daevetch children huddled behind Tejesper and Nessaira as the Ele students hammered down on them with wave after wave of white light.

Rhylix had joined a blurred figure in battle. Their fight was catching other, unknown primeancers in the overflow of their attacks, but of all the combatants around me, the two causing the most damage were Bright and Dim. Horrified, I watched as my splinters haphazardly flung light and shadow at one another, and each successful blow tore a thread out of their guise, revealing the seething energy found beneath.

The other fights faded away, gone before I’d registered their passing. The longer I watched my splinters battle, the more their fight lured me in until in a disorienting tumble, I was standing between them. Bright and Dim devolved into indistinct suggestions of Ele and Daevetch. These unformed smudges modeled hands and unnervingly long arms from their blank surfaces, and in a flash, each of them seized one of my wrists and pulled.

The strain on me so quickly escalated that I let loose a yelp, one that transformed into a shriek as a fissure formed between my shoulder blades. This fracture shot in two directions, one to the top of my skull and one straight down, and insistently tugged in both directions, I peeled into two pieces, wrenching free of my body. As I drifted away, I numbly stared at the split-in-half remains of me and woke up with a gasp.

Flailing, I let my hands fly to my knit-together sternum before the dream loosened its grip. For a moment, I lay still, panting, while a cold sweat raised pinpricks on my skin. When my heart stopped thrumming in my chest, I tentatively reached for Ren, grimacing at the idea that I’d woken her up again, and as I’d feared, only empty sheets waited for me.

Damnit.

I rubbed my face, exhausted despite having just woken up. I couldn’t, however, blame this exhaustion on poor sleep or the fun that Nylion, Ren, and I had participated in last night. No, the cause for this was much more terrifying than those simple explanations.

Open doors on the room’s far side admitted the rising Sun’s rays as well as crisp, fall air, and after groaning into my hands, I climbed out of bed.

“Do not go outside yet,” Nylion said. “Let her calm down first.”

Better to get it over with as quickly as possible, Nyl.

After slipping into my clothes, I trudged onto the balcony, plopping across from Ren at the garden table, and climbing on top of it, Nylion sat cross-legged between us, satisfied to let me have control for this morning’s confrontation. Turning her book’s page, Ren sipped her tea with steam rising above its lip.

I waited for her to say something, too tired to do anything more than watch the sunrise. For who knew how long, we sat in silence, but eventually, Ren closed her book and set her cup on the table’s surface.

“You did it again,” she said.

“I know,” I replied.

“It’s been happening more frequently.”

“Trust me. I’ve noticed.”

I refused to look at her. After all, I knew what she wanted, but Ren couldn’t know what she was asking of me. Primeancy was everything to me, something as interwoven with me as breathing or Nylion, and I used it every day.

Ele gave me the comfort I needed to withstand Ren’s touch without an initial surge of fear. I relied on its peace when meetings with my Ministers turned especially frustrating.

Daevetch infused me with confidence. It bolstered me when treating with foreign dignitaries and when dispensing harsh punishment, if the situation required it.

Losing primeancy would be like losing a hand, a survivable experience that would nevertheless haunt me with its lack. Without control of the primal forces, I was… less.

“We need to discuss this,” Ren continued.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked. “I’m not consciously making gray energy.”

Gray energy: the substance I’d used to close tears in the past. What had once brought Alouin’s attention down upon me.

Now, its creation had been happening at the most random of times and without my knowledge. It also had a name, something Ren and I had wordlessly agreed upon for the mystery that had plagued our bedchamber since shortly after our marriage. Gray, because the mist I’d been making while sleeping took on that color. Energy, because whatever the phenomenon was, significant force accompanied. We’d learned that lesson the hard way when that energy’s first manifestation had flung Ren out of bed.

“You lack of control is the problem,” she said. “What happens if you don’t wake me up with your nightmares beforehand and a fall from bed hurts the baby? I can take an occasional tumble. Our child cannot. Not yet.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” I asked.

I met her eyes, daring her to ask again.

“Tell me that you and Nyl are working to understand it,” Ren said. “Perhaps you can coax answers from Bright or Dim? It wouldn’t hurt to try again.”

Slouching, I crossed my arms.

“Their story will never change, love,” I said. “They’re pieces of eternal, primal forces, remember? They can handily resist my puny, human attempts to drag answers, especially those they want to keep secret, from them.”

Ren copied my pose, although the slight swell of her belly kept her from slumping as far as I had.

“Let me try,” she said.

A short laugh escaped me before I could control it. Ren, gods love her, was a norm. What could she hope to accomplish with my splinters when she couldn’t even see them?

“Would you please summon Dim and Bright?” she asked.

Her tone had been all sweetness, an indication that I was skirting trouble, so I did as she’d asked. With a thought, the splinters—who to this point, had been standing in their usual positions at my side—manifested as thoroughly as they could into the physical plane. In this state, other primeancers, ones with connections to Ele and Daevetch's level of reality, could see them, but to those who were rooted entirely in the physical realm, the splinters would never appear. Ren, however, looked straight at Bright and Dim as she addressed them.

“Tell me what’s happening to my husband.”

They traded an uncertain glance, and I waved, encouraging them to participate in this charade.

“When Raimie creates what you call ‘gray energy’, he’s attuning to our wholes’ hold on him,” Bright said, “but we don’t know how he does it or why it’s been happening so frequently in recent years. When he was a child, he forced a balance maybe twice a month. Now, it’s twice a week.”

“When I was a child?” I said. “You’ve never mentioned that before. How long have I been doing this?”

And why would they answer her question but not mine?

“Husband, I am speaking with them right now,” Ren said. “Wait your turn.”

Ducking my head, I murmured apologies. In the last week, I’d argued at least a dozen times with my wife. Each of those disagreements had started much like this, and I had no desire to engage in another one this morning. Arguing with her soured my day.

“I told you to let her calm down first,” Nylion sighed.

Extending his legs across the table, he leaned toward our wife, plucking at her hair, and I glared at him.

You’re not helping with MY calm, I said.

Nylion shook his head with amused irritation flowing over our bond while Ren took a breath.

“That being said, Raimie does have a point,” she said. “How long has he been making this gray energy?”

“Ever since birth, when he attracted us and harnessed our wholes,” Bright said.

“And what are your ‘wholes’?” Ren asked.

At her question, I whipped my head toward her.

“You can hear them?” I asked.

She looked down her nose at me, making me shrink in my chair.

“You’ve told me this before, haven’t you?”

Ren pointedly ignored me.

“Answer the question, please,” she told the splinters.

They looked exceedingly uncomfortable, shooting glances at me several times, but I did nothing to encourage or discourage them from answering. If they wanted to keep their secrets, they’d have to choose to do it. I wasn’t stopping them from speaking, especially not when my wife was the one asking questions.

“You lot call our wholes ‘Ele’ and ‘Daevetch’,” Dim eventually said, making a face.

I winced when the expression split the fissures in Dim’s cheeks wider, doing my best to ignore something that I knew the splinter didn’t want me to notice. Ren made that easy for me.

“So, our problem is connected to primeancy?” she asked.

“I thought that was obvious,” Bright said. “The balancing that he’s unconsciously doing is why he’s not completely crazy by now.”

“Or too rigid to allow change,” Dim added.

When they didn’t start catfighting after this, I frowned at them. Usually when one of them contradicted the other, my splinters devolved into a fierce bickering contest, but… now that I thought about it, that hadn’t happened in a while. Why?

“If Raimie stopped using primeancy, would the ‘balancing’ stop too?” Ren asked.

Stiffening, I abandoned other thoughts with my every sense heightened. There it was again, a glimmer of the impossible demand that my wife had made of me several times in the last few months.

“I’m not sure something like that would stop it…” Bright said.

“And I’m not giving it up!” I said.

I’d tried to remain calm while I’d been speaking. Really, I had, but some of the lightning storm crackling inside of me had leaked into my voice anyway, and Ren noticed it. She jerked toward me, narrowing her eyes.

“Can you think of another solution?” she asked with heat creeping into her voice. “Remember, Raimie. I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about our baby, yet to come. You can’t give up primeancy for however long is left before their birth? Such a sacrifice seems only fair, considering all that I’m suffering for this child.”

It was fair, and I knew it. I’d be more than happy to do as she suggested if the amount of time that I’d go without primeancy had been guaranteed but…

“What about when the next baby comes along? I don’t expect or want you to bear more children unless it’s what you want too, but let’s be honest. We spend too much time in our bedroom for another child to be anything less than guaranteed,” I said. “Do you expect me to abandon primeancy then as well? Do you expect me to set it aside when I need it to run Auden? I can’t stop being the ‘primeancer king’ for several, unexpected nine-month periods, Ren. It wouldn’t work.”

Ren laughed, bitter and scathing.

“Oh, I see how it is. You can’t figure out how to run the realm without primeancy, but I’m expected to learn how to be a queen while with child,” she said. “That doesn’t seem exceedingly unfair to you?”

Flinching from her, I said, “That’s not what I-”

“No, it never is,” Ren snapped. “You never think about how your actions and words will be perceived by other people. Thank Alouin you’re normally a noble person, one others will follow without thinking, or else we’d be in serious trouble, but hell, the times when you’re not… So many disasters, Raimie. You ‘not thinking’ is what got my brother killed, for fuck’s sake. You-”

Slamming my hands on the table, I shot to my feet.

“Why don’t you think about what you’re saying, dear wife? Are you sure your problem with me is because of gray energy and what it might do to our baby?” I shouted. “Are you sure there’s not something else we need to talk about? Because if you’re only godsdamn worried about our child, I have a fucking simple solution for you. Sleep somewhere else. That would solve this problem to your satisfaction, wouldn’t it?”

Ren recoiled from me as if physically hit. The three of us in a warm pile while falling asleep was one of the most sacrosanct points of our marriage, the one time when we could be fully and completely ourselves without the pressures of court bearing down on us. For me to suggest that it stop…

“That was a mistake,” Nylion said with a dangerously angry rumble in his voice, “and I will not let you follow through with such a threat.”

I snapped my eyes to slits, glaring at my other half.

You won’t LET me? I growled.

Nylion sprang to his hands and knees on the table with his face uncomfortably close to mine.

“She is my wife too!” he shouted. “I need that quiet time with her as much as you do!”

Rapidly blinking, I took a step back with little throbs of anxiety squeezing my heart. My other half was never angry with me. Never. And I… I was never aggressive toward Nylion.

Fuck. I’d truly misstepped this time.

Dropping into my chair, I hid my face in my hands, listening to an uncomfortable silence. Punishing myself with it.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” I said after a moment, both to Ren and my other half.

In the cracks between my fingers, I watched Nylion slump back into a relaxed pose with tentative comfort radiating through our bond, and hugging her swelling belly, Ren blew hair out of her eyes.

“Maybe there are other things that we should discuss when it comes to our relationship. Maybe not,” she said, “but they’re not what we’re talking about right now.”

Silently, I nodded, and after a moment, Ren clicked her tongue, taking hold of my hands. She pulled them away from my face, and once they were hers, she kept them.

“I understand how difficult my request would be,” she said. “I’m sorry that I must ask the impossible of you, but I don’t know what else to do.”

Looking at her, crushed by worry, and looking at us, distanced by conflict, I decided it was time to try the one avenue of inquiry about this situation that I’d been avoiding until now.

“I have an idea, but it will involve me leaving Elisk for a spell,” I said. “I realize how terrible it is for me to ask this after… what I said, but can you run the realm by yourself while I’m gone?”

Meanwhile, Nylion crossed his arms.

“Raimie, you are not thinking of finding Alouin once more, are you?” he asked. ‘The last time, we spoke to him, it nearly got us killed.”

When I ignored him, he sat upright, taking hold of my chin.

“I am serious, heart of my heart,” he said. “Please, do not put us in unnecessary danger.”

Meeting his eyes, I asked, Do you see another way?

Clenching his teeth, Nylion compressed into a ball, but he stopped arguing with me, and I returned my attention to Ren, letting her know we’d stopped talking.

“If taking the reins will help us fix this problem, then I’ll do my best,” she said. “What’s the difference between the few days that I’ve done before and a few weeks?”

“In that case, I’ll leave as soon as I’ve finished running Rhy’s field trip for his primeancer students,” I said.

Making a face, Ren said, “I’d completely forgotten about that.”

“Your brother picked a wonderfully perfect time to disappear,” I darkly muttered.

Better to harbor anger toward Rhylix than drive myself crazy with worry. Ren, of course, had chosen the worried path, but then again, she had two loved ones who’d vanished.

Rhylix’s disappearance was a familiar return to the first years after Elisk’s capture, but Ring, a loyal member of the Hand, was another matter entirely. Of course Ren was worried sick over her disappearance.

Ren’s fear for her friend might be understandable, but Oswin’s obsessive anxiety about it concerned me. Since late last night, my old friend had been a neurotic mess, utterly incapable of his spymaster duties, as seen by the royal couple’s lack of bodyguards this morning. Oswin had become so immersed in his desperate search for Ring that he’d failed to assume his rotation after the ball, Thumb and Pointer were off gods knew where while attending to other Hand matters, and Little had been too busy with the aftermath of the ball to notice the problem. The wreck that Oswin had become, dropping everything in his frantic hunt, was enough to make me wonder if perhaps Ring and my friend had finally given in to what everyone had seen in them for years.

“Rhy never dumps his responsibilities on others, especially not the ones that he makes for himself,” Ren whispered with pinched eyes.

Don’t worry. He’ll be fine, was what I wanted to tell her.

“It’s not burden for me,” was what I said instead. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave the capital.”

“The trip will only take you a few days, yes?” Ren said.

“The time needed to get to the coast and one day while there,” I said. “No more than a week total, at most.”

“Well…”

Ren trailed off, intently gazing at the horizon as the Sun made its glorious first appearance of the day.

“You’d better get out of here,” she said. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you can start working on our problem.”

Rising to my feet, I circled the table, leaning over to brush her hair to the side.

“Of course, love,” I said. “Nylion and I will see you soon.”

Ren smiled at me, and I knew that no matter what the current stressor to our marriage might be, we’d find a way to overcome it and emerge from the struggle stronger. We were Joined as one, all three.

I touched my forehead to hers, Nylion engulfed us in an embrace, and we enjoyed a brief moment of unity. Unity of purpose, unity of spirit. Unity across my bond with Nylion and unity in Ren’s trust that I’d solve our problem.

Duty called. I straightened with a shuddering breath, reluctant to retreat from the peace that I felt with the two of them.

“I am coming with you, silly,” Nylion said. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

Snorting a laugh, I meandered inside to get ready for the day.

Chapter 93: Field Trips and Massacres

Raimie

 

Three days after my fight with Ren, the primeancer students and I stood on Nephiron’s dock. The journey to reach this place would normally have taken weeks, but fortunately, my companions and I were not normal people. On our trip, Ele had helped to speed most of the students along, and the rest had shade melded across the same distance in hops and skips. By using these methods, we'd cut our trip’s length to a fourth.

The Daevetch students’ addition to my roster had surprised me, but when asked about it, Nessaira had simply shrugged, claiming that her kids needed real-world practice as much as the Ele students did. I suspected that in actuality, Nessaira had needed rest. She’d been wan, pale, and twitchy, indicating a high probability that she’d ignored Rhylix’s advice from days before.

I’d been more than happy for the Daevetch primeancers to join us. The challenge that Rhylix had prepared for his students would be relatively difficult, and extra hands would be much appreciated.

Unfortunately, their addition to the group was also giving me a headache.

“I won’t have them aboard my ship,” the captain in front of me said. “They’re nothing but trouble, and if you keep them around for long enough, Your Majesty, they’ll eventually go the way of our former Dark Lord.”

Beside his five younger cohorts, Tejesper stiffened, ready to make a scathing comment about the captain’s intelligence; I was sure, but I beat the teenager to the punch. Drawing Daevetch to a hand, I waved it in front of the captain.

“Then, I’d guess you don’t want me on your ship either,” I said. “We had an agreement, captain, but if you’re unwilling to take us all, then we’ll find another crew to sail us to the isles. Someone more willing to accept the throne’s coin.”

Coin that was steadily depleting. Light taxation and the sale of interesting items from Auden’s tears could only do so much to mitigate the enormous cost of revitalizing a nation. It was a problem for another day, but for the captain’s benefit, I flashed a peek of the gold chits filling the pouch at my waist.

“I’m sure we can work this out,” the captain said, stammering. “If they stay below deck and out of the crew’s way, I might tolerate their presence.”

“I can promise that they won’t interfere with your crew, but staying below deck will be quite impossible,” I said. “Today’s lesson will require open air. Unless you want us to accidentally sink your ship?”

The captain unhappily grumbled, but he nodded, holding a hand out. Reaching into my pouch, I placed a small pile of chits into his waiting palm.

“You’ll get the rest once we’ve safely returned to Nephiron,” I said.

“Welcome aboard,” the captain grunted with his eyes fixed on the gold in his hand.

As we climbed the gangplank, I trailed the students with trepidation. I vividly remembered the last sea voyage I’d made as well as its miserable beginnings. Huddling in a corner and shivering from a cold sweat wouldn’t help the appearance that I must maintain as strong, sure, and in control. I hoped my stomach wouldn’t betray me on this short trip across the water.

At the top of the gangplank, Tejesper pulled me to the side.

“Why did you bargain with him?” he asked. “We could just as easily have shade melded to the isles and avoided these people’s scorn.”

“Careful, Tejesper. These people are acting out of fear. Let’s show them that Doldimar’s fate isn’t the only end for those with a claim on Daevetch,” I said. “As for why, do you think I haven’t noticed? For the last two days, you six have sported the stains of foot travel when you've reached our campsite. I know how difficult it is to emerge from the shadows where you want to. I didn’t like the idea of having to fetch one of you from the sea before we reach our goal .Besides, how many of you have sailed before? Look at how excited the young ones are.”

Those five children giggled and shrilly chattered with one another, entangling their hands in the nearby rigging.

“What exactly is our goal?” Tejesper asked.

And my mood darkened.

“Why don’t you gather everyone near the mainsail?” I asked. “I’ll explain there.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Tejesper said.

As he trotted away to carry out his task, I contained my wince. After almost a year and a half as this nation’s king, I still wasn’t used to that honorific, but I was learning to accept it. Being ‘Your Majesty’ was simply an annoyance that I tolerated so I could focus on my passion: fixing this broken realm. Helping the people who called it home.

The students quickly assembled, at about the same time our transport weighed anchor and shoved off. For a moment, I rode a wave of seasickness, one that mirrored my dread, before wrangling it under control. It lurked below the surface, ready for a moment’s lapse, but for now, I’d pinned it in place.

“We must commit this breach of trust,” Nylion said. “It is for their own good.”

He was leaning against the mast with a frown belying his words, but I didn’t acknowledge my other half’s discomfort, one to match mine. I simply nodded.

I know that, I said. Doesn’t make this easier.

The students’ eyes were shining; they were so eager to learn why they’d traveled across the realm for their field trip, and I swallowed, trying to clear the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to destroy their excitement or be the one to steal the peace they’d recently found, but these people, children and adults, were primeancers. Theirs would be a life of strife and turmoil, rarely broken by times of tranquility. It was best to ease them into it as gently as possible.

“I know you want to learn why we’ve come to this far corner of Auden, and while I won’t be happy doing it, I will answer that question,” I said. “We’re here to solve a problem. Over the last three years, some of you may have heard rumors about pirate attacks on our coastline. Recently, I’ve learned from the Hand that these cutthroats, the Serpent Pirate Crew, have established a bay on the northernmost of Nephiron’s three isles. That island is our current heading.”

Nervous mutters rose from the students, but I couldn’t afford to let them speculate about what I’d said.

“I have an assignment for you,” I said. “I require this Serpent Pirate Crew removed from Auden. To that end, I’ve brought you, my most qualified subjects, to drive them out .I’m not asking for a massacre!”

I had to raise my voice to be heard over their alarm.

“Although, if that’s how you choose to take care of the problem, no one will stand in your way. Unlike their comrades, these pirates are the vilest of scum. They deserve whatever fate they receive. So, you may take any course of action that you wish to accomplish your goal, be that violent or not. That is why we’re here. That is this field trip’s purpose.”

The students waited for me to continue, to laugh and tell them it was a joke, and when I didn’t, protests rang out over the vastness of the open sea. I let their anger beat against me until one voice rose above the rest.

“Why would you do this?” Miranon cried. “I thought we’d be safe with you! That’s what you promised us, and now, you’d push us into a fight? How will that keep us safe?”

“All of you have grown while staying with me. A pirate band shouldn’t be a problem for anyone here to handle,” I said before quietly adding. “I’ll keep watch, Miranon. No one will be in real danger.”

“That doesn’t-”

As her voice cut off, Miranon’s face went red.

“Children are with us!” she shouted. “Do you expect them to fight as well? How cruel can you be?”

The Zrelnach among them, Jeme, took a step forward, laying a hand on Miranon’s shoulder.

“He’s doing them a kindness, Miri,” she said. “You know the stories of our kind, the same as everyone else. We inevitably die young. Do you think any primeancers here can expect such a fate, simply because we lead peaceful lives now? The king is going out of his way to provide us with an opportunity to safely hone our skills. He’s doing this in the hopes that some of us will defy the odds.”

Miranon sucked in a breath as if to argue, but instead, she turned on her heels, stalking away. With a small sigh, Tejesper chased her, and the rest of the students stared at me with indecision rife on their faces. They wanted to believe that I, the man who’d provided them with a safe haven, had their best interest at heart, but doubt wavered in all of them save for Jeme. She alone gave me a nod of understanding.

I had no intention of soothing the students’ fear. I’d do what was required to prepare them, and they could judge my actions later.

“We’ll arrive at the isle by midday, so ready yourselves until then,” I said. “When we arrive, remember. I’ll be nearby, if you need me.”

Dismissing them, I marched to a nearby railing. Listening to the quiet conversation rising behind me, I stood firm until the students’ noise had faded to nothing before vomiting into the ocean. With many a comforting murmur, Nylion rubbed my back, there for me. As always.

In the end, the primeancer students didn’t need me. A single ship came from the isle to greet us, and the students took one look at the emaciated bodies and faces of the children working its lines before a spark ignited. Against fourteen Ele and six Daevetch primeancers, the pirates, both aboard their ship and ashore, didn’t stand a chance.

While the pirates’ former slaves boarded my hired vessel, I waded through corpses. Within their base, the pirates had held so many children captive that the poor things had filled our ship to the brim.

Its captain had not appreciated the unexpected influx of passengers, as evidenced by his whining, somehow still buzzing in my ear now. In the end, the man had insisted that with the children occupying so much room aboard his ship, none remained for me or the primeancer students.

With a shrug, I’d relinquished the second half of the captain’s gold, and on hinting at significant compensation for a task well done, I’d extracted a promise from the man to return the children to their homes.

As for me and the students, we’d find another way to the mainland, even if I must individually shade meld the Ele primeancers to its shore.

For tonight, however, we’d rest, recuperate, and celebrate, such that we could. I meant to make the night as lively as possible, driving memories of killing and death out of the students’ minds. Before disembarking the hired ship for a final time, I’d persuaded its captain to leave us a barrel of rum while retrieving the fireworks bundle that I’d been toting around since Elisk, all in anticipation of this outcome.

While we waited for nightfall, I had the students exploring the isle’s beach with no other instruction, save for to keep an eye open for trouble. As I lifted a last body over my shoulders, screeches, laughter, and splashing drifted over the ridge, and I smiled. My plan seemed to have worked as I’d hoped. No one could resist the ocean’s pull for long, not when friends surrounded them.

“We should have gone with them,” Nylion said, standing on the ridge.

With his hands on his hips, he looked down on the students, and I shook my head at him, huffing as I took the last few steps to my corpse pile.

I don’t think they’d have appreciated my presence, I said. It will take them time to work through what I did to them, and before you ask, NO. I don’t hate myself for doing it.

Glancing back at me, Nylion said, “Liar.”

Godsdamn bond.

Ok, fine. I feel a LITTLE guilty about it, I said. Better?

“Much.”

With one final heave, I completed a corpse pile, stepping back to view it with a strange mixture of pride and melancholy. Pride at the efficiency and skill of my fellow primeancers. Melancholy that these pirates had chosen a course that had led to their elimination.

I felt no regret for their deaths, despite how I felt about making the students do the deed. Slavers who specialized in children were a plague upon the world, one that needed to be seared from existence.

Speaking of which. Casting about for a source of flame, I found none in my immediate vicinity, which elicited a groan. We’d made camp far from the battle site, and when I’d returned to the scene of carnage earlier, I’d failed to bring a striker with me. Stupid. How else would I take care of so many bodies?

Coming to join me, Nylion said, “We could let them rot.”

And waste this perfectly fertile soil? I said. I’m sure Nephiron would appreciate the additional farmland, considering how often their mayor complains about food shortages. The city won’t want to wait while the elements reduce these bodies to plant food. No, we’ll burn them. Which means we’ll hike back to camp.

“Fine,” Nylion drawled. “I simply wish to be done with this, both with the bodies and distracting the students. Come to our shared dream space tonight? I-”

“Need a light?” someone behind me asked.

Jumping, I whirled toward the noise while Nylion grumbled about the interruption. Leaning a shoulder against a nearby tree, a blonde-and-blue haired man was intently peering at me with gray eyes, angling his slender body away from the tree’s trunk with his arms crossed, and on seeing the stranger, the splinters at my side recoiled.

“Raimie, run right now,” Dim whispered in a trembling voice. .

The splinter’s tone stirred similar emotions in me, but I couldn’t do as Dim had said. The sound of the students’ carefree conversations was still rising, indistinguishable, over the ridge. I couldn’t leave them here, not until I’d assessed the threat. If there was a threat. It seemed like that was the case, but… I’d always found it better to give people, including those who snuck up behind me and freaked the hell out of my splinters, the benefit of the doubt.

…Maybe I wouldn’t, though, just this once.

Resting a hand on Silverblade’s hilt, I tried to appear relaxed, even as I made ready to flee at the slightest sign of danger.

“Where did you come from?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ve been watching you for quite some time,” the stranger said. “Wasn’t sure when I could safely approach, considering how many people your friends slaughtered here but…”

He shrugged.

“You look like you’re finished, only sticking around to burn the bodies. So. Need a light?”

“If you have one, I’d appreciate it,” I said.

As the stranger moved toward the corpse pile, I eyed him, taking several silent steps away. Something was severely off about him, besides the fact that he’d appeared from nowhere. He was Eselan, which wouldn’t by itself ring alarm bells in my head, but combined with the continued rarity of the Eselan race in Auden, I found it somewhat unsettling that this stranger had popped from thin air in this out of the way corner of the realm.

And of course, Dim’s warning and both splinters’ readily apparent fear were rattling me. They’d retreated as far from the stranger as they could while still remaining within my reach.

Nylion, hovering closer to the stranger, abruptly straightened. He strode my way, steps eating the earth in his haste to reach me.

“I think we should follow Chaos’ advice,” he said. “Better to be wrong and look foolish than to be dead, if that is who I think it is.”

And who do you think it is? I asked.

The Eselan conjured fire to his hand, and as he reached to let it catch on the pile, I took notice of how badly deformed that appendage was. Nylion’s answer to my question went unheard, and all thoughts of danger slipping from my head as I rushed forward.

“Your hand!” I said.

Crouching, I clutched the Eselan’s wrist, inspecting the damage.

“Good gods, what have you done to it?” I breathed, horrified. “Come with me. I have a salve that might help, and maybe my friend will look at it too. We can-”

The Eselan doubled over with laughter, nearly toppling me. Hiccups interrupted his giggling’s wide range in pitch, which might have been more unnerving if I hadn’t been itching to reach camp and treat his wound.

“I’m sorry,” the stranger gasped. “You’re exactly like everyone says you are. The ally has never been so genuine before. No wonder E likes you.”

“Would you please let me help you?” I asked.

I tugged at the Eselan’s wrist, but he merely ripped it out of my grasp.

“You can do nothing for my hand,” he said. “The damage was done years ago.”

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

The stranger cocked his head with a fascinated smile quirking at his lips, and only then did I register Nylion. My other half was pulling on my shoulder as insistently as I had been with the Eselan while the blue of his eyes was lost in white, and his breath hissed between clenched teeth.

“-NOW!” he was saying. “Heart of my heart, listen to me. We need to go. Please, get up and get us out of here. Gods-”

Ok. I hear you, I said. We’re going.

Clearing my throat, I said. “My work here is done.”

I gestured at the fire, which was already gaining purchase on the pirates’ bodies.

“Thank you for your help,” I said. “Will you join me and my students for dinner? I’m sure we have rations to spare.”

I didn’t wait for an answer. Once I was upright, I started in a casual stroll toward camp, praying I wasn’t showing how much my skin was crawling. I hoped the Eselan would leave well enough alone, even knowing that would never happen—the man hadn’t shown up here for no reason—but if he insisted on following me, I’d be leading him to friendlies: twenty powerful primeancers who could help when this situation turned to shit.

Behind me, the Eselan said, “You don’t want to make that offer.”

Or the man could decide to tumble us into a confrontation now. Slowly, I faced the Eselan, instinctively reaching for Nylion’s hand.

“I am here,” my other half said. “No matter what happens, I am here.”

I know.

With a brittle smile, I asked, “Why is that?”

Shaking his head, the Eselan rose from his crouch with firelight sending faint glimmers over the black leather wrapped around him.

“Gods, boy. You haven’t even asked who I am. Is exchanging names not considered proper etiquette in this day and age?” he said. “I know you’re Raimie, king of Auden, and here’s where you ask…”

He fluttered a hand toward me while I narrowed my eyes.

“Who are you?” I asked, already certain I knew.

Grinning, the Eselan pressed his ruined hand over his heart, bowing to me.

“Doldimar, Dark Lord of Auden, formerly known as Arivor, at your service.”

That was what I’d thought.

Chapter 94: Fancy Meeting You Here

Raimie

 

I should be terrified. I should be running as fast as Ele would carry me away from this place, but all I was in this moment, finally meeting my enemy, was cold.

And so was Nylion.

So, I drew on Ele, unsheathed Silverblade, and flashed across the distance to Doldimar, touching my sword’s tip to the hollow of the bastard’s neck as he straightened. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t go for a killing blow. I was acting on instinct right now, moving as my body and subconscious demanded, and by the time I’d registered how little of a threat I was to Doldimar, he’d swatted the blade away with a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I could squash you like a bug if I wanted, but I haven’t. I’m here to surrender.”

To my shock, Doldimar, the one I’d spent six years trying to destroy, tossed a weapons belt at my feet before raising his hands above his head. Slowly, with my eyes fixed on him, I crouched to retrieve the belt, throwing it over my shoulder, before retreating several paces.

“Bright? Dim?” I said under my breath. “Would one of you check whether he’s hiding any other blades?”

Bristling, the splinters transferred petrified gazes from me to one another, letting a silent conversation take place, until Dim threw their hands in the air with a groan. As they edged forward, glimpses of black peeked from beneath their clothing with their cringing only getting worse as they got closer.

“Sure, don’t listen to me,” they said to me. “Stay right fucking next to my whole’s avatar. That seems like a great idea.”

When Doldimar snapped his eyes to the advancing splinter, Dim turned stiff as a rod while their complaints cut off with a pained whine.

“I assure you that if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now,” he said. “I like my games and my playthings. I’m not such a child that I’ll destroy them before they’ve outlived their usefulness.”

And all the while, Dim’s quiet screech got louder.

“Let. Dim. go,” I growled, raising Silverblade.

Doldimar snorted.

“Dim. Is that what you call it?” he asked. “All right. Have the disobedient piece back.”

He wiggled a raised finger, and gasping, Dim zoomed to cower behind me.

I’m so sorry, I breathed to the splinter.

Shaking, Dim rested a hand on my shoulder, revealing cracked skin with glimpses of shadows beneath it.

“I’m fine,” they gasped.

They weren’t fine. I could tell, but with their visage steadily decaying over the last few years, the splinter hadn’t been fine for a while now. I couldn’t do anything about it right this moment, though, nor was it a good idea to focus on it.

“Why are you really here?” I asked. “And if you’re powerful enough to wipe me off the face of the earth without a thought, why have you been in hiding for the last four years?”

“I haven’t been hiding,” Doldimar scoffed, wrinkling his nose. “I’ve been watching. Surely you can tell the difference.”

I didn’t grace him with a response, which was a smart decision as it turned out. He appeared not to have wanted one.

“No? Not as smart if I took you for, in that case,” he continued. “As for why the sudden desire to throw myself on your mercy, E told me that he’s figured out how to break the cycle. I couldn’t find him, but your location’s always been a blazing beacon in the shadows. You’re his ally. You’ll eventually lead me to him, so… here we are.”

“E? Who’s that supposed to be?” I asked.

“Eriadren,” Doldimar said, making a face, “my old friend from another life.”

“You mean Rhylix,” I said with my voice going soft.

“Yes, yes,” Doldimar said, dismissively flapping a hand. “Whatever he’s calling himself now.”

Warily regarding the Eselan, I said, “You expect me to believe you’ve overruled the command that Daevetch holds on you because Rhy gave you a slim glimmer of hope?”

“Oo… he has told you our story!” Doldimar said with a giggle. “And yes. That’s what I expect.”

No way in hell did I trust the man who’d once dominated my kingdom, but the Eselan had twice mentioned the marvel of my continued life. Considering the enmity between us, I should be dead. Earlier, Doldimar could have killed me rather than offering to light the pirates’ pyre. I hadn’t heard or felt him coming.

“I did. I should have said something earlier. I am sorry,” Nylion said. “Do not, however, take this bastard at face value. Put Silverblade away. It will make us look confident, but do not let your guard down.”

I never do, I said, and don’t apologize to me. I should have listened to you earlier.

Nylion squeezed my free hand.

“You were being you, offering aid to someone who seemed to need it. It is one of the things that I love about you, so never apologize for it,” he said, “and please. Do as I said, heart of my heart.”

I did feel a little silly brandishing a sword at an unarmed man, regardless of the primeancy that said man could wield. What could I hope to accomplish with my blade in any case? The only one who could kill the embodiment of Daevetch was Rhylix, and my friend had vanished like a forgotten dream.

Sheathing Silverblade, I said, “We’ll see. Come with me. I have a task to finish before I can get you to Rhy.”

I made to leave the ridge, but Doldimar interjected, lowering his arms.

“A moment. I hoped you might satisfy my curiosity before we’re surrounded by your friends,” he said. “You’re not wearing Shadowsteal. It’s typically E’s weapon, but I understand that this cycle has seen the sword given into your hands. So, my question. Why isn’t it with you?”

Coming from my enemy, the question seemed intrusive, but I couldn’t see the harm in answering it. Replying would cost me nothing and gain Doldimar little.

“I don’t like what it does to me,” I said. “Seeing the world in slow motion and vibrating to the tune of Ele’s power aren’t exactly pleasant experiences.”

“Ah. Perhaps you should try my blade, then. Lighteater,” Doldimar said.

He pointed at the two-handed sword hanging from my shoulder.

“Completely the opposite of its counterpart.”

Did he think I was stupid? Shaking my head, I pointed ahead of me.

“Go on. You first.”

I kept a close eye on Doldimar’s back as we marched toward this evening’s campsite. In the past, I’d never considered surrender as a possible outcome for this conflict. The idea had seemed too far-fetched, and yet, here we were. I half-expected Doldimar to turn on me at any moment, but we arrived at our destination without a single surprise.

As the students’ excited chatter reached me, I turned grim. I’d wanted to make tonight special, a glorious evening of fun and frivolity to drown out their guilt, but with this—I needled my gaze at the small of Doldimar’s back—my plans were ruined.

The two of us came into view, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of the students, my fellow primeancers, in their unguarded state. The group had decided to let their ocean-soaked clothing dry on their bodies while their drenched hair lay flat on their heads. Games from the beach had carried up the ridge to the campsite. Young ones were chasing one another in rings around the fire, and the adults amusedly poked and prodded giggling children into meal preparation and bedroll arrangements.

An Ele child, Pavensu, caught sight of first me and then, Doldimar, and the excited grin that had bloomed at the sight of her protector froze on her face with her eyes widening. She and a Daevetch child, Calium, had been sneakily examining my fireworks when Doldimar and I had emerged from the trees, but her behavior made Calium turn, and on seeing us, his features went slack, as if drunk.

Pavensu screamed, and after seeing what had distressed her, all twenty primeancers settled into battle stances, although the response times for the Daevetch aligned were slightly more sluggish.

“Raise your hands if you don’t want to get blasted by fourteen Ele streams,” I said with pride warming my otherwise tight voice.

Doldimar did as I’d suggested, if more slowly that I’d have liked. He stared with fascination at the light and shadow-coated limbs confronting him.

“It’s all right, everyone,” I shouted, stepping in front of Doldimar. “Everything’s under control.”

The students flicked fearful eyes between me and their former oppressor, so I bade Ele to cover my hands, broadly displaying them.

“See? I couldn’t call on Ele if he’d caught me in a Vice,” I said. “Doldimar and I just need to… discuss a few things. Go to the beach. Wait for your orders. Jeme, can you hang back?”

The Zrelnach warrior nodded, and gradually, the other students retreated, taking their confusion and uncertainty with them. I pointed at the ground beside the fire.

“Sit,” I said. “Stay.”

While Doldimar arranged himself, I grabbed Jeme’s arm, dragging her away from the campsite.

“What’s going on, Your Majesty?” she asked. “You’re not under his control, so why isn’t the bastard dead?”

“You have such confidence in my ability to kill him,” I said.

“Can you not?” she said.

I brushed the question aside.

“Doldimar’s surrendered. That’s why he’s not dead yet.”

“Your Majesty…” Jeme said. “You can’t believe he’d truly do such a thing.”

“No, of course I don’t, Jeme!” I said with a strained laugh bursting from me. “Doldimar is the most manipulative son of a bitch I’ve heard tell of, but every minute I spend with him, pretending I do believe him, is another that Auden can use to prepare.”

When her eyes widened, I nodded.

“You must send word as quickly as possible. Doldimar’s appearance can only mean that he’s ready to make his move,” I said. “Have Tejesper shade meld home with the news, but once he’s delivered it, he and the other Daevetch students are to translocate to our fallback position. You saw how they reacted to Doldimar’s presence, a hesitation that’s sure to get them killed in battle. I won’t be responsible for sending children to their deaths.”

“Understood, sir,” Jeme said. “What about the rest of us?”

“You’ll have to find your own way home. My original plan for getting you to shore is no longer viable,” I said. “Return to the capital with all haste. Get my wife out, and as soon as I can, I’ll join the fight.”

Assuming I survived the coming conversation, of course.

“I have some ideas for reaching the mainland,” Jeme said. “Any other orders, sir?”

“Spread the word as fast as you can, Jeme.”

I looked toward camp and the solitary figure sprawled beside it.

“Doldimar’s coming,” I said under my breath.

“Understood,” Jeme said. “Good luck, sir.”

“And to you.”

By the explosion of light around me, I knew she was already gone.

“Keep him delayed,” Nylion said. “Great plan but we should also try to pry information out of him.”

Nyl, of course I’m going to do that, I said. Gods, we’re dead. You know that, right?

“If we die, at least it will be in defense of our home,” Nylion said. “And at least we will be together.”

Yes. Thank Alouin for that.

Resting my palm on Nylion’s cheek, I kissed him, and while this didn’t feel the same as it did in our shared dream space, it was enough.

Pulling away, I said, Keep a close watch while I speak with him. You’re better at detecting subterfuge than me.

“Of course,” Nylion said. “I love you, heart of my heart.”

With a half-smile, I said, I love you too.

Chapter 95: What Do You Want?

Raimie

I trudged into the fire’s vicinity. Retrieving strips of salted pork—a traveler’s standard fare—from an abandoned pack, I tossed some to Doldimar before settling opposite him.

“How in the void have you gotten Daevetch primeancers to work with the Ele infected?” the Eselan asked.

Given the lack of preamble, he must have been restraining that question since our initial confrontation with the students, and I cast an annoyed look his way.

“With great difficulty,” I said.

Tearing a chunk off my dinner, I chewed on it, amused by the frustration that flashed across Doldimar’s face. I’d give him nothing, playing the game for as long as I could before my enemy got bored and moved on to his next tactic.

“What was that about?” Doldimar asked next, gesturing to where I’d given Jeme her orders.

“I’d think that was fairly obvious,” I said. “Unless you think I was planning on keeping my students on the same island as you, which… ha!”

Doldimar drew his eyebrows together, looking confused, which was strange to see on someone who was supposed to embody evil.

“Oh,” he said after a moment. “No, I wasn’t talking about the conversation you were holding. I meant the touching the air and talking to no one bit.”

I froze with a strip of meat raised halfway to my lips.

“None of your business,” I woodenly said.

No fucking way was I letting Doldimar learn about Nylion. Keeping his existence secret wouldn’t protect my other half much—what happened to me happened to him, after all—but I wouldn’t put it past the Champion of Daevetch to find some way to torture Nylion after learning about him.

“I’ve obviously hit a nerve,” Doldimar said with a laugh in his voice. “Careful, young one. Don’t give away your weaknesses so easily.”
Ignoring him, I finished off the strip I’d been holding before leaning back on a hand.

After watching me for what seemed like forever, Doldimar eventually growled, “How long do you expect us to sit here?”

“A boat should return for pickup in the morning,” I said around a mouthful. “We can find Rhylix once we’re on the mainland, but no way are we shade melding there. I don’t trust you with the technique. In all honesty, I should probably induce sleep in you with Ele, but I don’t plan to, not unless you give me a reason for it.”

“Fair enough.”

To my surprise, Doldimar, living embodiment of Daevetch, tore into his share of dinner. Watching him eat, I could almost believe that my companion was an ordinary man, but I’d seen far too much of his devastating handiwork to accept the illusion.

As he finished his meal, he said, “Thank you. For the food, I mean.”

“It was no trouble,” I automatically said before wincing.

“Polite too,” Doldimar said. “You look at me, and I see no hate. Disgust for my choices but no disdain for me.”

“Rhylix has shared your story. I know that you have little control over your actions, and this cycle, my friend has been long delayed in freeing you,” I said with a shrug. “Three hundred years of Daevetch without Ele to counteract it. The world should’ve burned to nothing by now. I’d guess that we have you to thank for our continued existence.”

Doldimar wordlessly stared at me before flinching, snapping his gaze to the side.

“No,” he growled. “Not yet.”

“Is that your ‘babysitter’?” I asked. “Which aspect monitors you? Rhylix’s is Creation and yours…?”

Again, Doldimar stared, but this unblinking gaze was one of calculating evaluation.

“Corruption,” was what he eventually shared.

“Order. Chaos,” I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at my splinters, “but I call them Bright and Dim. Their actual names are too stuffy for me.”

“You’re a strange man, Raimie, king of Auden,” Doldimar said.

“Thank you. I think.”

The fire spit sparks into the air between us, and I traced those glowing embers’ rise into the air until they cooled, becoming ash.

“Would you like to know a secret?” Doldimar asked. “It’s about your family.”

I tensed at the change in the Eselan’s voice. It had gone darker and colder, and I knew we’d reached a tipping point, the reason Doldimar had ‘surrendered’ in the first place.

“My family has many secrets,” I said. “I doubt you could say much on the subject to surprise me, but you’re welcome to try.”

“You were correct before,” Doldimar continued, apparently content to ignore what I’d said. “Three hundred years is a long time, even for ones as long-lived as E and me, but I vividly remember your ancestor, the king who gave me Auden. Did you know he tried to negotiate with me?”

He barked a laugh.

“Of course, I had no intention of honoring any agreement we made. That deception kept Daevetch occupied for years. Being its Champion is a delicate tightwire to balance. Feeding Daevetch chaos, destruction, and deception is demanding enough on its own, but sustaining it just enough that it’s distracted from unleashing hell upon reality is nearly impossible, especially on the days when my sanity flees from me.”

The Eselan fell silent with his eyes unfocusing, and I gave him time. Every minute of his distraction was another Auden could use for her defense. I almost laughed aloud at the thought, so similar to what my enemy had said.

“In any case,” Doldimar eventually continued, “I was speaking about Auden’s last king, the one before you. You should know that he wasn’t a coward, despite what the history books may say. King Eledis was simply too cautious with how he defended Auden, and as a result, he, along with his wife and best friend, were all cursed in their separate ways.”

“Wait, Eledis?” I said. “As in like my grandfather, Eledis? Why would his parents have named their child after such a failure?”

Doldimar flashed his teeth at me. With our latest conversation topic, his features had morphed from amused to something else, something much more threatening, and I had to restrain a shiver at the sight of it.

“Listen quietly to my story, boy, and I may give you a chance to stop what’s coming,” he snapped.

To my dismay, I couldn’t stop my breathing from quickening in response, which only made Doldimar smile.

“As I was saying, the three were cursed, or blessed depending on your point of view, by the Eselan bitch who foretold of your eventual triumph, Raimie, king of Auden.”

“Emir, the king’s Eselan bodyguard and best friend, was forced into a permanent shape change, one of a human’s features. His curse reflects his sustained reliance on shape change while in the Audish court. He now goes by the name of Marcuset, I believe.”

“Illasaya, the king’s wife, was burdened with a memory that wipes itself clean when she sleeps. Her curse reflects her willful ignorance of her husband’s misdeeds. Her newest name is Kaedesa, queen of Ada’ir.”

“Now, Eledis, he was afflicted with aging, his body to become a plain truth of the years that he’s lived. His curse was made in response to his disguises, meant to deceive the world into believing him an Ele primeancer. He never changed his name, moving on with his life until his descendant found Shadowsteal. Until you.”

“And in case you haven’t realized it yet, all three were cursed to live until they correct their mistakes by ridding the world of me.”

Rising to his feet, Doldimar deeply bowed, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

“Is that enough of a surprise for you?” he asked.

Reeling, I desperately searched for something, anything for me to cling to. First, the revelation years ago that my family had hidden my true past, stealing Nylion from me, and now, this. Was there anything genuine or true in my family? How false were the men I’d spent my childhood with?

“We have another family now, Raimie. We have Ren,” Nylion said. “Do not let the deceptions of the people who spawned us make you lose focus. Doldimar is playing with us.”

My other half might as well have been talking to thin air. I couldn’t truly hear him, not with my thoughts churning through what Doldimar had exposed.

What rocked me about this revelation was how obvious it was, concerning Eledis at least. So many of that man’s inexplicabilities made perfect sense in the context of him as the exiled king of Auden. My grandfather… ancestor’s eagerness to accept the quest of liberating Auden, the friendship between him and Uncle Marcuset, his frustrations with me as king, the average Audish citizen’s hateful reactions to him, the initial hostility between him and Auntie Kaedesa…

Kaedesa. I’d almost married her. Fuck, I’d be sick!

Scrambling away from the fire, I coughed up dried meat chunks while Doldimar’s snickering gave chase, and Nylion’s nausea only compounded mine. When my body gave me control again, I marched on the Eselan, binding the Ele in his body to the ground’s. Doldimar dropped with an oomph, and I planted a foot on his chest, resting Silverblade on his neck.

“What do you have planned?” I snapped. “I’ve spent years preparing for your return, knowing it would never be enough. So, tell me what will happen to my people, and I might not hurt you before sending you to sleep.”

Doldimar laughed, great gasps that sent my planted foot up and down like it might move during an earthquake.

“Your threats mean nothing to me, boy,” he said. “You can do nothing that I haven’t experienced a thousand times before.”

The gray eyes set above Doldimar’s manic grin screamed the truth of what he’d said, and seeing that, I shrank inside. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath.

“We truly were looking for a solution to break you free from the cycle, you know,” I said.

Then, I induced sleep in my enemy.

What a mess. I wished Rhylix had left me a note, a message, some indication of his intended destination before taking off. If my friend had completed that one small task… if I knew where he was, I could retrieve him and bring him here.

As it was, Doldimar would be free to enact his plan as soon as the Ele in his body dissipated, and I couldn’t stay here to refresh it. I needed to fly home and rally the troops. If only I could keep my enemy pinned…

“Why not try Lighteater?” Nylion said. “It is not the best solution, but it might work.”

Oh, Nyl! Gods, I’m sorry I ignored you, I said. I just-

“It is fine, Raimie. I could feel how you reacted to Doldimar’s story, the same as you could with me. It was… intense. Let us not worry about that but our current problem,” Nylion said. “So. Lighteater?”

You think that’s a good idea with how heavily he baited us to hold the sword earlier? I asked.

“I cannot think of another solution. Can you?”

I drifted my gaze to Doldimar’s weapons belt, discarded by the fire.

Lighteater. It was Shadowsteal’s mirror. I’d watched Teron use it to obliterate Bright. If it could destroy a splinter, could it pin the Champion of Daevetch in place, even if it was associated with the same primal force? If it could, I wouldn't need to worry about Doldimar escaping my hold, not on this remote isle. He'd stay in place, long enough for me to find Rhylix, and together, we could decide what to do next. 

Hesitantly approaching, I leaned over the blade with my fingers shaking when I paused.

Did I want to do this? The sensations that Shadowsteal imposed on me were bad enough. Did I want to learn what its opposite would inflict?

The alternative was to leave an immensely powerful Daevetch primeancer here, to be freed at an unspecified time. Better to try a shaky plan than to do nothing at all, even if Bright and Dim were violently shaking their heads no.

I drew Lighteater.

The moment my palm touched the grip, a surge of power lazily flowed up my arm, unnaturally swelling my muscles until they pushed against my skin. At this oddity, I’d have dropped the weapon if I hadn't been so distracted. 

My surroundings had changed. Shades of black were painted across the world. 

Fortunately, one thing had stayed the same. Dim appeared as their normal, unassuming self at my side, to my relief.

Because the rest of the world had skewed. In this view, fire went dark rather than glowed, deeper in hue than grass or tree, and its gay liveliness had taken on a violent tone with tongues of flame hungrily reaching for me. Anything that had life in it had twisted and contorted into grim distortions, becoming sickly and wan.

Two total abnormalities occupied my immediate vicinity. The deep-within-the-caverns-of-the-earth, far-from-the-sun form must be Doldimar, which made the rigid fixture beside me Bright. In my hand, Lighteater twitched toward the fixture, but I willed it to stay still. I didn’t have time to recompose a splinter today.

As when I held Shadowsteal, motes coalesced around me, but these were solid, black shadows rather than white orbs. When the motes sped toward me, I didn’t flinch from them. I knew these Daevetch fragments wouldn’t harm me, much like those of Ele never had.

Or so I thought. After my skin had absorbed several dozen of them, a high-pitched whine assaulted my ears, and the black world shimmered and cracked. From these cracks, formless monsters of oozing shadow slithered, advancing on me.

I took a step back, lifting Lighteater, and as if prompted by my retreat, a host of phantasmal whispers started. I didn’t know how I could hear them over the ear-splitting eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee all around me, but half-whispers, unfinished threats, and promises drifted alongside that maddening noise, and I clutched at my temples with my fists, trying to block it out. I barely kept from slicing my shoulder open at the same time.

“I see you’ve claimed my sword.”

At first, I thought this voice was simply another whisper, but the statement it had uttered hadn’t been half-completed. I raised my eyes toward its source with difficulty, fighting against my brain going into overload.

Doldimar’s pitch-black form stood a pace away with its head cocked. I could imagine the fascination surely contorting those features, lying on the plane above that faceless black.

“Finally!” Doldimar said. “Catch me if you can, Raimie, king of Auden.”

And he disappeared.

“It is a trap, heart of my heart!”

A thread of warning had been thrown into the whispers, a splash of fear added to mine, but I barely registered these things before discounting them. Instead, my rattled mind slogged toward a conclusion that should have been instantaneous, and when it hit, I shade melded after my enemy.

When I skimmed among the shadows this time, I somehow retained my sense of self, but on this trip, something new, something dangerous, accompanied me as well.

I considered abandoning Lighteater beneath the world’s skin. A hiss negated that option. I didn’t understand how or why, but the formless monsters that had crawled through reality’s cracks had joined me in the shadows, and they were prepared to chase me to the ends of the earth.

Panicking, I fumbled for a remnant of my enemy, and when I brushed against a cloyingly sweet taint, I latched on and zoomed along its trail. The journey seemed to last forever, a prolonged struggle to burn through Doldimar’s remnants as quickly as I could. 

Behind me, the hisses never ceased pursuing me. I could feel their glee in the hunt.

I knew I was nearing the end when the shadows’ core changed from one of acceptance to one of distaste. Soon enough, they wouldn’t tolerate me anymore, and I’d be spewed from their embrace.

I was forced to blindly trust that Doldimar wouldn’t dump us at the bottom of the ocean or the middle of a volcano. The destination snapshots that usually accompanied my shade melding weren’t flashing before my eyes, so when I stepped out of the shadows and breathed clean air, I shook with relief while relaxing long-clenched muscles.

That was when Daevetch slammed into me. Its impact wasn’t a steady stream of motes gently absorbed into my body. It was a carriage running me over, an outpouring of shadows from the glowing halo opposite me, and the black river eagerly stampeded over my body to gather around the sword I was holding.

I flew through the air for a split second before smashing into something cold and hard. Pinned there, I listened to the dissonant sound of Bright and Dim shrieking, all while peeling my fingers off of metal.

Lighteater fell out of my hand, and I dropped to all fours, gasping and coughing. Nylion’s hand slapped over mine with his arms violently shaking.

“Ra… mie… watch…”

A shuffle sounded somewhere nearby, but before I could rise to confront Doldimar, a boot tip connected with my chin, snapping my head back. I fell sideways, and a crackling rumble gave me an instant’s warning before the stone above me came crashing down.

When its thundering roar ceased, I unclenched my body, amazed that I was still alive. As I opened my eyes, their lashes brushed against stone, and I turned to ice, inside and out. Carefully, oh so carefully, I traced the perimeter of my dimly lit prison.

Prison wasn’t the right word. A cell gave the prisoner room to move around in. This was a coffin.

The air seemed to go thin. I could see, which meant that a hole in this coffin was letting light and fresh air inside, but that knowledge didn’t change the fact that I couldn’t breathe. Stone caressed me everywhere, and I tried to pull away from it, only to touch more. My frantic fidgeting left abrasions on my exposed skin while blood welled to the surface with every increasingly agitated twitch. A scream built in my chest, but before I could unleash it, a voice splashed into my panic.

“Thank you for doing exactly as I hoped, Raimie,” Doldimar said. “I’ve been trying to bring Lighteater near a tear for ages.”

Metal scraped on stone: the Dark Lord probably retrieving his blade.

“Ahh…” he sighed. “That feels much better than I expected.”

“My people won’t make this easy for you, Doldimar,” I shouted. “We’ve had years to prepare, and this time, we have the advantage of knowing what you’re capable-”

“I know about your preparations,” Doldimar said. “Kylorian has kept me appraised.

I went very still with my breathing, even my heartbeat pausing.

“Kylorian?” I whispered.

I’d thought… we were friends. We’d spent so much time together and- and-

“That son of a bitch,” Nylion breathed somewhere nearby.

No, I couldn’t believe it. Kylorian wouldn’t do this. He loved Auden too much to work with its former oppressor.

“Yes, Kylorian. That man has been such a mess to handle. So moody,” Doldimar said. “It took me a while to drag his name out of him, but I eventually got what I wanted. As I always do. It helped that his own father had carved such deep paths for instant obedience and mental avoidance into his brain. I’ll have to thank the man, if I ever meet him.”

Fucking hell, that bastard actually had betrayed me.

I screamed, thrashing against the stone restraining me, and outside of it, Doldimar cackled.

“I love that noise, Raimie, former king of Auden,” he said. “I look forward to hearing more of it when I return from destroying your pathetic kingdom.”

And I was alone. I screamed again, pounding my fists on the ground, letting the ugliness inside of me pour into the world.

When I was calm enough to think logically, I searched for my sources to either Daevetch or Ele, but I found neither. I tried to shade meld home, but the shadows wouldn’t accept me without Dim. Shuffling in micrometers, I eventually found a peephole that I could peer through, and my heart sank.

I hadn’t wanted to believe what Doldimar had said, but there, outside of my coffin, hung the proof: a nauseating slit of black haloed by white strips. No wonder Bright and Dim wouldn’t respond to me.

Another fit of rage and frustration took over, one that slowly morphed into something much worse. With hot tears blazing down my cheeks, I clawed at stone while pain flared from my nails. My mind was screeching at this immobilization until a forced wave of calm rolled over me.

“Stop, Raimie,” Nylion tiredly said. “There is nothing you can do. We are trapped.”

Chapter 96: Home

Rhylix

 

‘This is impossible.’

As I dazedly wandered down the streets of the city I’d once called home, this was the only thought that occupied my mind. The structural damage from Doldimar’s first successful military campaign had been erased with no half-collapsed buildings or shattered cobblestone anywhere in sight. Beautifully familiar homes and intervaled braziers dotted the hill I was climbing, all exactly as my carefully constrained memories insisted they’d once been.

The memories that were now threatening to break free.

It really is too bad about the coin purse. With it, I can pay you, and I was looking forward to doing the same by treating you to dinner.

A flash of bewilderment and intrigue.

Will you need that help, once we’re alone tonight?

Anticipation and excitement.

We… we’re having a baby?

Yes.

The tinkle of laughter, accompanied by joy.

Uncle Eri?

Despair and hopelessness.

I would love to answer that question, just like I need to know what happened to you, but Arivor needs you right now.

Gratitude to her and anxiety for what comes next.

I’m so sorry. I should have been-

Were doing what… needed.

 A hole in my heart and DEVASTATION.

I struggled to bury my memories and their sharp spikes of pain beneath the weight of my thousand past lives, and with a gasp, I ended up clinging to a brazier’s pole to keep from sagging. Once control had reasserted itself, I continued down the street with my feet unconsciously walking a path they’d trodden many times before.

Maybe it was time to face those memories instead of running from them. Time to sort the grim from the good, time to confront the trembling mess that the ghastly ones made of me.

But not here, not now. Not in this well-known city, coated by a thin film of Ele. Not while I was surrounded by fidgeting, muttering, twitching Kiraak.

My control of my invisibility bubble hadn’t dropped with the past’s violent attack on my mind, thank Alouin, and the black-vined people around me continued to aimlessly amble or lounge nearby, undisturbed by the cessation of my quiet, hitching sobs.

Swallowing hard, Eria- I tried to get my bearings once more. With my ingress delayed for a day by Ele’s reluctance to come at my call, I’d only set foot in the city a few moments ago. I’d entered through the east gate, which made this… the slums. The place I’d come from. I hurried down the street, pushing aside fleeting images of neighbors, lifting their hands in greeting.

Soon, not soon enough, I blew into the merchant’s district. Glass and obsidian shops replaced wooden homes, and the street widened into a large square, occupied by a single, massive oak tree. The pathway narrowed on the other side of the marketplace. It would continue to enlarge and constrict—to breathe—until it smacked into the line that divided the merchant’s district from the district of the divine, and there, it would die, once more becoming a smooth, inanimate path.

My destination didn’t lie that way. Instead, my feet took me to the side, along an artery that funneled the people—the city’s lifeblood—into its lungs.

I encountered little pressure while striding away from the city’s heart. My old hometown was long dead, and parasites infested its corpse. The further from the marketplace that I traveled, the fewer of those parasitizing Kiraak clogged the streets until I realized I hadn’t seen one for at least a mile.

Unease bubbled in my gut, slowing my feet, as I halted in front of a two-story cottage, marked with a modest supply of obsidian trim. Home. I reached for the door with a shaking hand and gently pushed it open, soon greeted by the shadows within.

Checking that no Kiraak had snuck up on me, I dropped my bubble of invisibility, pulling Ele through my source to make a torch of my hand. Taking a deep breath, I plunged inside.

Close the door behind you, Eri. You’re letting the cold inside.

Numbly shutting the door, I glanced around an empty living room. It was exactly as Doldimar had described, exactly as I remembered it from that last, awful day. The paintings on the wall, the small dresses mixed in with tossed-aside laundry. Yellow, the color of happiness.

Sharply sucking in a breath, I ran to the back door. The fire that had eventually consumed the garden had left no trace of its passage. Trees and flower bushes flourished, blossoming in the same spots where they’d been planted long ago—Look, Eri, this dress is ruined! I’ll never get the dirt out—and an assortment of pots that should have been shattered was precariously balanced by the door instead. Only three new plants invaded the scene of an undisturbed, happy past: an azalea bush, a squat apple tree, and rarest of them all, an Eselan-crafted iceflower.

I approached the apple tree first, ignoring the other two. Resting my palm against its trunk, I opened my mouth before shaking my head.

“I’m sorry, Rafe,” was all I managed to say.

Letting my hand slip away, I trudged to the other two.

“Hey, girls,” I said on standing between them. “Sorry I’ve taken so long to visit since I… buried you. Arivor’s kept me busy with fixing my mistake, with-”

I choked on the lie. Slowly, I folded to the ground before I could lose my balance.

“I’m a coward,” I said. “I was afraid of what a visit would do to me. My solitude is bad enough without a reminder of what I once had. I miss you two so much.”

I trailed my fingers through the azalea’s leaves before crawling to the iceflower.

“I’ve made a friend, Lirilith,” I said. “I think you’d like him. His compassion and disregard for society’s rules remind me of you. He’s helping me with healing.”

Closing my eyes, I entertained the pretense that my wife was nearby and watching.

“I don’t know if this would come as a comfort or a betrayal to you, but Arivor and I… no enmity lies between us anymore,” I said. “My argument rests with Doldimar, the bastard who replaces my friend every cycle, but we shouldn’t discuss him. I won’t desecrate this place with a hint of his presence.”

But I had nothing else to say to her. Leaning over, I cupped the iceflower’s chill petals, breathing in its mildly sweet scent, before standing.

“The next visit won’t be a thousand years from now. I promise,” I said.

Tucking my chin to my chest, I stormed to the shed in the corner of the garden, my old laboratory. Doldimar was somewhere in this city, but this place was vast. Searching it in its entirety would take a few days, and I needed somewhere to rest my head at night, an enclosed place that the Kiraak wouldn’t disturb. I couldn’t stay in the house—too many triggers that might spill memories over—but the lab? Here was a place of refuge without that danger in it.

Even before going inside, however, I knew something about the shed was off. As I approached it, a sick feeling churned in my stomach, but I dismissed that as a result of the unpleasant task I’d just undertaken.

I’d forced myself to confront my girls, the source of the hole in my heart. As a rule, I didn’t stab at open, festering wounds. I ignored them until they’d rotted from the inside, requiring excision. When I went against my natural inclinations, especially where Ele was concerned, I got nauseous, and my body ached in reaction to stress. I assumed the same held true for this most recent trial.

When I closed the shed’s door behind me, wearily leaned my forehead on it, and opened my eyes, however, I knew I’d been wrong, just as I remembered something I’d long forgotten. Woodenly, I faced the source of the wispy light that was illuminating the shed’s interior, and the tear’s draw instantly captured me.

Its attraction was a million times stronger than when Raimie had closed Da’kul’s tear or when I’d shown my friend the Accession Tear. Then, I’d been complete, but for years now, I’d been partially separated from Ele, and so, the energy that made up my life force sang to me from this break in reality.

I took a hesitant step forward, raising a hand to reach for it. Maybe if I touched its black slit like Raimie had, Ele would rush to fill the empty, gaping chasm in my essence.

“Rhylix,” someone behind me said.

I stopped. My hand drifted to my side.

“It’s good to see you, son.”

The world hushed while numbness spread from my head down my limbs and to the tips of my fingers and toes. I finally gave voice to the thought that had been a wheel, rolling over and over in my mind, since I’d stepped into this city.

“This isn’t possible. It can’t be! Ren said… she said you’d been taken. That she found no sign of you when visiting our old hometown, but

I couldn’t believe that, not after what I left you with.”

“That’s true,” the voice said. “I was facing six Kiraak when you ran.”

And I flinched away from that near-physical blow.

“You told me to run!” I said with a whine crowding my voice’s fringe.

“Face me, Rhy.”

It was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t want to see the ghost of my recent past brought to life in this vestige of my long-abandoned home, didn’t want to see what had become of the man I’d once called father. Not in this city. Not in what had to be the enemy’s headquarters.

But my father’s voice had made that request. The man who’d ignored racial prejudices to fall in love with my mother and had accepted me as a son. A man who’d willingly become a stop-gap for the hole that my birth father had created with his death. The man who despite my long-practiced efforts to hide it, had discovered what I was before my mother. Who’d watched me escape death’s clutches after a horrible hunting accident. Who’d never once said a word about something that most would view as a miracle or a curse. (It was a curse.) The one who’d insisted on defending me from the Kiraak, despite the knowledge that I could easily survive everything those monsters threw at me. How could I refuse him?

So, I turned until I saw his feet, and I reluctantly raised my gaze. My father’s black eyes steadily met mine.

“An Enforcer?” came my strained whisper.

In a city’s noise, that question would have been hardly audible, but it boomed in the shed’s stillness.

“He made you an Enforcer?”

I’d known Doldimar had probably made my father a Kiraak, if he’d been taken like Ren had suggested, but…

Flinching, my father crossed his arms.

“What did you expect to see, Rhy?” he asked. “Doldimar’s owned me for years.”

“I’m sorry,” I breathed.

For not staying to fight with him. For returning too late. For not searching longer for his corpse. For the urge, deep inside of me, to rip my father apart, making it as if he’d never been.

My father squeezed his arms tighter around his chest, looking away.

“How’s your sister?” he said to a spot over my head.

“Good. Happy,” I grunted, balling my hands into fists at my sides. “With child.”

Surprise flickered across my father’s face.

“I’m going to be a grandfather?” he whispered with something unspeakable crinkling his face.

Then, he returned his eyes to me, wincing.

“Gods, it must ache to resist killing me. Your control has always been admirable, son,” he said, “but in this case, you should have succumbed to your needs as soon as they made themselves known.”

Aghh… I must rid the world of the filth in front of me. I was carving crimson crescents into my palm, and my arms were shaking, so badly did I need this. That filth, however, was my father, and I wouldn’t be the one to end him. Not when Raimie might cure his affliction.

“Why is… that?” I huffed through clenched teeth.

My father sadly smiled at me, but a hint of something else glittered in the black of his eyes.

“Because, son,” he said. “I’m the distraction.”

A foreign chill stabbed through my back, plunging deeper, deeper, until it reached my heart and twisted. For a moment, I stood there, examining the sword point jutting through my ribs, but shock couldn’t long stand against such devastating damage to the body.

All I was became pain, such staggering pain. My chest was fire while a fist squeezed my body’s engine, and I couldn’t breathe. I gasped and coughed and hacked, but nothing relieved the pressure in the space where my heart had been, the vacuum that was crushing my sternum to my spine.

Someone unseen snaked a limb under my arms and around my chest, taking my weight as my legs gave out.

“Hey, E,” they whispered. “Glad you could make it.”

That supporting arm lowered me to my side while my head lolled. All energy was diverted to maintaining the spark of life in my irreparably damaged body.

“Nice bit of acting,” someone said.

“Thank you, Your Greatness,” my father replied.

It didn’t make sense. Pain, my old friend, had come to greet me, and I was dying again, but this time was so. much. worse. A ripping, searing blaze located not in my chest, not where my heart had been, but in the threads of Ele that kept me rooted in this world. The absolute, mind-consuming, screeching AGONY.

My back arched, and a shriek was lodged in my mouth, on the verge of unleashing, but it was unable to go further, not with my muscles tautened to stone.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” said my murderer.

I fought through the fog to identify that voice, and when I did, disbelief numbed me. How had I not felt…?

Dread broke through the gradually ebbing clench in my chest.

“Dol… di… mar,” I managed to gasp.

“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure if you’d realize before you died,” my enemy (friend) happily chirped. “Isn’t this exciting? I’ve never won before, E.”

Oh, gods. The world… the world without Ele…

Doldimar chuckled at the desperate whine keening from me, a snicker that my father joined.

My father… I was… dying, and my father stood there and… laughed.

“Why” was the world flashing in and out of focus? What was this darkness tugging on me? I’d died so many times before, but this… nothingness was new, different, and it terrified me. I struggled to stay in the world of light and life, pushing against nothingness with what remained in me.

Which wasn’t much.

“Why, what?” Doldimar asked.

What.

I’d meant to ask something before this nothingness had come calling, but my new fight had driven it from my mind. What had it been?

“He wants to know why me.”

My father had supplied both the question and the answer.

“Oh!” Doldimar said, clapping his hands. “This is the best part, E! Let me introduce you. Meet Coleath, aspect Deception.”

Ah, that was it. Why was my father standing, laughing, by Doldimar’s side while his son died? Painfully. Slowly. Had Daevetch… already ensnared my father…?

The pressure where my heart had once beat went still, making the only source of continued pain the flare consuming Ele, starving as its fuel burned to smoke.

And nothingness nipped at my heels. I took another shuddering breath, hoping air—blessed, clean air—would drive it away, but it only advanced more quickly. It stole my past lives, my origins, and my current life until only the idea of Rhylix stood and fought.

Fought to keep Ele in the world. Fought for forgotten friends and family. Fought simply to be difficult.

“What’s taking so long?” someone I’d hated (loved) whined.

“Without the heart, the body can last a few minutes before expiring,” said someone I… I… “Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon.”

“I want it over now!”

A blunt object crushed my skull, and nothingness dragged the screaming remnant of me under.

Chapter 97: That Was Close

Rhylix

 

When I woke up surrounded by Ele, all I could do was lie still and stunned.

“Huh,” I grunted.

“What a total fuck up, Gaelen.”

I shot upright, but it wasn’t because of the man speaking to me. I searched for and found the never-ending Daevetch landscape, separated from me by a thinning, gray line. When I sprang to my feet, meaning to sprint to the border, Alouin caught my shoulder.

“He’s not there.”

Sucking in a breath, I shrugged Alouin’s hand off of me, and in a fugue, I paced, twining my fingers in my hair.

“What do I do?” I gasped. “What do I do?”

Losing control of my legs, I painfully landed on my back with the breath knocked from me.

“Ships, you’re annoying sometimes.”

Alouin’s twitching fingers gave me a clue about how I’d ended up on the ground.

Shaking his head, he continued, “You do nothing, silly man. I do everything. Again. I swear. Your iteration drains more from me than the sum of the others. Get your shit together, Gaelen.”

Galen…?

“What’s wrong with you?” I snapped. “You should know better than to manipulate me with your strange magic, and my name hasn’t been Gaelen in ages. It’s Rhylix now.”

Stopping with his annoying habit of playing with the air, Alouin coldly stared at me.

“Do you want my help or not?” he asked.

I wanted to stay. I wanted to be free of this curse, as I might be with this change, but the world…

And Raimie…

“Please,” I hissed. “If you can… if it’s possible for you to take a side in this miserable war, please help me.”

Alouin nodded with his fingers caressing the air once more before kneeling at my side. He moved to poke my forehead but paused midway to touching me.

“Can I ask,” he said with a troubled expression crossing his face, “who’s your friend? He came here once. Insisted that we’d met. I’m afraid I lost my temper and pushed him away before he could explain, though.”

Only one friend had ever made the slightest mention of meeting Alouin.

“Who, Raimie?” I said. “What do you want to know about him?”

“Raimie.”

Alouin said the name like he was chewing on it, trying it out for size, before focusing on me once more.

“He’s a… What do you call it in your iteration?”

“A primeancer?” I asked.

Because what else from my world could interest this unfathomable being?

“Yes, thank you. That. Of which primal force?” Alouin asked.

“…Both,” I said, now utterly confused.

I didn’t believe in gods, never had, but over the millennia, Alouin had shaken that conviction. I couldn’t fully commit to calling him a god, but he was immensely powerful and could always answer my many questions. Shouldn’t he know that Ramie was a dual primeancer?

“I thought I felt both energies in him after reviewing that visit,” Alouin said, as if to himself.

When he fell silent, I barely held my own tongue, itching to get going. I needed to have control of my feet and go home.

“When I stabilized the tears after my release, I noticed there were two fewer in your iteration,” Alouin soon continued. “Your friend’s doing?”

If I could, I would have cocked my head.

“Over the course of our journey together, Raimie has closed tears, yes,” I said.

Alouin fell still with his eyes so wide that I was afraid they might fall out of their sockets.

“Finally,” he breathed. “Hope.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant one that might warm the people who saw it. It was cold, calculating, triumphant, and on seeing it, I suddenly wanted to be nowhere near this being. Wishing I could fidget, I cleared my throat.

“If you can get me back to the physical plane, could you please just do it?” I asked. “I have time-sensitive issues to address there.”

The spell that had frozen Alouin shattered, and his smile softened. It was the first time he’d looked like himself throughout this strange encounter.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Thank you, Rhylix!”

He pressed his finger to my brow, and white light blinded me.

A shaky gasp broke the stillness of my old laboratory. Gingerly, I sat up, wincing at the tugging ache in my chest, and when I removed my hand from my breastbone, it came away sticky, making me groan. Over my heart, blood was soaking my tunic and ever-trusty cloak, front and back. At least the fabric’s saturated state could hide its torn rents. For now.

“Oh, thank the whole!” Creation said in a rush. “I thought the war was lost.”

The splinter was kneeling beside me, and at the sound of their voice, I jerked away from them, grunting at the wash of pain that followed the sudden movement.

“Creation,” I said once the twinge had passed. “Where’ve you been?”

“Busy,” the splinter snapped. “Not busy enough to miss the wrench across the iterations when Arivor stabbed you, nor to feel you completely cut from the whole. To feel when you died in truth. How are you alive? Your death should have ended this cycle, albeit in the enemy’s favor for once, but ended it nonetheless.”

“Alouin helped,” I said.

I was still unclear about why or even how that being had helped, but for now, I wasn’t going to question it, not when I had somewhere to be.

Groaning, I delicately climbed to my feet. Creation was silent while I trudged to the door, but then, they snapped in front of me, shoving a shaking finger in my face.

With fear widening their eyes, they whispered, “You cannot accept Alouin’s help, Eriadren.”.

“Why not?”  I asked, pushing through Creation and moving outside.

Night had fallen, but the glow of a city wrapped in Ele almost fooled me into thinking otherwise. In the dark, light blazed, a glistening beacon that promised comfort and warmth to the weary traveler. It was beautiful.

I shook myself out of my reverie, realizing that Creation had continued jabbering while the view had distracted me.

“-tip the scales of the war!” they said in a barely contained scream. “You must promise me, Eriadren. Do not accept his help.”

Should I ask for a repeat of their explanation? Creation could have unintentionally revealed something important in the jumble they’d unleashed but…

Honestly, I didn’t care right now. My body ached, my chest felt like an elephant had stomped on it, and exhaustion was wearing me like a second skin. I was wrung-out and couldn’t be bothered to listen again so…

“An easy promise to make,” I said. “I don’t like accepting his help in the first place.”

Sagging, Creation clung to their knees.

“Thank you.”

I wanly smiled. It truly hadn’t been a hard promise to make.

“Come on, you,” I said. “Let’s find Doldimar. I have a debt to repay.”

The street that my home bordered was empty, but it had been abandoned as I’d approached it as well. Maybe I’d get lucky for once and avoid the Kiraak while on my way to find my old enemy (friend). Where could he have gone in this city we'd both once called home?

Then again, why should I worry about stumbling across one of Doldimar’s minions right now? After what had happened, I doubted I’d need to worry about them for a time. I could probably meander my way through a crowd of them without comment now that Doldimar thought I was dead.

As I strolled toward the markets, I hummed to myself, enjoying the imagined look on Doldimar’s face when I shoved a sword through his heart. A blank slate of black hung above my head with the stars drowned out by the city’s light.

My city. Maybe in the next cycle, I’d find time to lead my fellow Esela here, guiding them in the old ways. I could show them…

Having arrived at the closest marketplace, I screeched to a stop, both in stride and mind. Where before Kiraak had crowded this square, now it was deserted. Fearful of what I’d discover, I cast my senses in all directions, as far as they’d go, searching for any sign of Daevetch, and came up empty.

“Where are they?”

I rounded on Creation with my stomach plummeting.

“How long was I out?’

“If they’re not here, you know exactly where they’ve gone,” Creation said, “and you weren’t dead for long. Maybe half a day? I lost track after panic set in.”

“Damnit!”

The invitation here, the presentation of my father; it had all been a ruse. To kill me, yes, but more importantly, to get me out of the way. Away from the city that I’d, in part, protected with my very presence for the last year and a half. Elisk.

Gods, Raimie and Ren! I’d left without saying a word. Auden had enjoyed peace for four years, long enough to believe that said peace might be permanent. They’d never see the attack coming.

“I have to get back,” I moaned.

But the task’s futility was already slashing through my heart.

“You’ll never make it in time,” Creation said, echoing my budding despair.

I ignored the splinter—easy after years of practice—and fled a city of memories, careening into the night like a bullet of light aimed for Auden’s heart.

Letter: Seer Drena

Seer Drena,

I thought you might like to learn where I am right now, although let’s be honest. You probably already know it. But since we’ve been pretending you can’t see the future for years now, I’ll tell you anyway.

I’m in Elisk, waiting for the end.

Don’t worry your pretty, little head about Emir. Our son is safely out of the city, doing what he does best: follow orders. He tried to persuade me to go with him, poor dear, but I refused him.

You see, I have a purpose for staying in this doomed city with these doomed people. After all the years when I’ve come home to you, I want to know if you’ll do the same when asked. Whichever way you eventually choose, I’ll happily die knowing whether you ever really loved me.

Was I simply an extension of your will for all these years? A tool with which to complete your agenda? Did you feel anything for me?

I have trouble believing that you did. A reasonable person doesn’t manipulate the one she loves, but perhaps that’s the problem. Perhaps your ability to the future has warped you as far from reasonable as it’s possible to be.

Do you know how difficult it is to be married to you, Drena? Never surprising you, always knowing you could be watching me. I was happy to accept all of these things and more. Because I loved you.

Meanwhile, you…

You lied to me. How could you?

Why did you keep the truth from me? Did you think I wouldn’t accept the truth that we couldn’t be saved, that our efforts would only help future generations? Well, I’ve got news for you, my dear. I’M NOT THAT WEAK!

You shouldn’t have offered me hope, only to snatch it away at the last minute. If I’d known the plan from the beginning, maybe I wouldn’t have felt so guilty for hating the man you insisted would save us all.

But you don’t read these letters to hear my grievances. You read them for one reason, and so, I’ll answer your questions. Yes, I did as you bade me. Yes, I argued with the Audish king’s Ministers until I was blue in the face. Yes, Eledis is free and headed for you now.

I have nothing more to say to you. Join me in Elisk or don’t. I’ll spend the time until Doldimar comes pretending that I don’t care.

Chapter 98: This Is It for Us

Raimie

 

“We’re going to die here, aren’t we?”

Stone, intruding on all sides, muffled my question. My words sounded as if they’d come through thick cloth until they bumped into one another in my head. Fortunately, Nylion heard me without a problem.

“Probably,” he said.

Nylion’s voice had come from outside of our coffin, a pinpoint I latched onto. It was helping with my cling to sanity. If I pretended my other half was really out there instead of trapped in here with me, I could continue breathing in an even rhythm rather than devolving into hyperventilation.

The only problem with this situation? With him outside, I couldn’t touch Nylion in any way, but although we both desperately needed that comfort, it wouldn’t ward off a debilitating panic attack, one that I couldn’t have. We’d tried having Nylion lie in this coffin with me enough times to know that now.

Alouin, Nyl. Tell me what you really think, I hissed.

But my mouth curled at the sour tone in Nylion’s voice. How did he always know how to cheer me up?

“Would you rather if I lied to you?” Nylion said. “Because I am not sure if I can. I have never lied to you before.”

That ripped the blossoming of something resembling a good mood out by the roots.

Never lied? I growled. What do you call hiding that our mother spent a huge chunk of our childhood beating us?

Nylion kept quiet while I simmered, in tune to our boiling blood, the powder keg waiting for a single spark.

After that heat had faded, he said, “I took what I thought to be the healthiest path, mentally, for us. I am sorry.”

It was my turn to stay silent. The ache in my neck had weakened, so I stretched to reach my peephole out of this coffin, eager to absorb the view of something other than dimly lit stone, mere inches from my nose.

“I know, Nyl,” I whispered.

Followed by I don’t blame you and How could you? in my head. Thankfully, Nylion didn’t comment on the thoughts that I knew he’d heard.

Just like I knew I wasn’t angry at Nylion. Not really. I might be a little irritated that he’d shouldered the burden of our mother’s abuse alone, without asking for help, but the white-hot, bitter RAGE that kept me from sleep on most nights, that required a self-medicated dose of alcohol to quell it, was directed at myself.

For years, I'd been oblivious not only to Nylion’s presence but also to what he’d been protecting me from. My debt to my other half was a drained gulf. It could never be filled, never repaid. I could try to do that for the rest of my life, and my efforts would never be enough unless…

No. I could never bring myself to surrender control, never be the one condemned to watch our life played out through our eyes, and that selfishness was why self-loathing had been my constant companion these days.

“Let us try again,” Nylion said.

I jumped; I'd been so consumed by drowning in misery. Again, how did Nylion always know how to cheer me up? Right when I began to crumble, there he was, throwing me a lifeline.

I cleared my throat, almost coughing.

“Bright? Dim? You two listening?” I called. “You saved me in Qena. Think you can do it again?”

Silence answered me, and as usual, when I sought my sources, I found nothing.

Do you think Doldimar destroyed them? I asked.

At the idea, a thrill of fear zipped under my skin.

“The bastard only had Lighteater with him, not Shadowsteal, so only Order was in danger,” Nylion said. “As for what could be keeping Chaos away, I have no idea.”

They’ve seemed weaker lately, I said. Have you noticed the cracks in their disguise? The ones they try so hard to hide from us?

“Yes. Gods, for a Daevetch splinter they are terrible at concealment,” Nylion said. “Do you think their weakening has something to do with their current lack of response?”

We ARE beside a tear, a glimpse into the primal forces. What do you think a weakened Daevetch splinter would do when confronted with their ‘whole’? I asked. Doesn’t explain why I can’t FEEL them, though.

Our current speculation was much appreciated, as was anything that could distract me right now. I couldn’t think about the certainty of stone’s weight above and around me, the inability to move—

It’s not right! Please, don’t hurt me! It’s not right!

—the loss of my Daevetch and Ele sources, the knowledge that my enemy was marching on my home while I lay here, trapped. The certainty that it and everyone I loved would be destroyed.

“Raimie, focus,” Nylion said.

With deep breaths, I beat back the fear that was clawing up my throat and the need to get out of my itching skin. Fuck, if only I could sleep. If only our circumstances, including a tenuous cling to sanity, weren’t keeping me and Nylion from our shared dream space, somewhere we could touch without the fear of spiraling into a panic attack. It didn’t matter to me that retreating like that would be selfish to an extreme, not anymore. Not after how long I hadn’t been able to move or breathe easily. Gods…

“How long have we been here?” I said, mostly to myself.

It must have been at least through the night. Grit scraped my eyes when I closed them, and my mind was wandering too freely. An empty void had taken the place of my stomach with every passing hour dragging more of my body into its grip, and my throat was a desert with my lips chapped and my tongue swollen. I was sincerely regretting the brandy skin that I’d drunk to steady my nerves before reaching the isles. It was better not to think about what was stiffening my clothes because of that.

“One day, thirteen hours, forty-two minutes,” Nylion said.

That’s an oddly specific number, I said. Where did you pull it from?

“An excellent internal clock?” Nylion said before laughing. “I am guessing, heart of my heart. I have no idea how long it has been since Doldimar left us here. At least a day.”

Which meant that depending on where the bastard had been hiding for the last four years, Elisk could already be under attack.

Flinching from that thought, I instead focused on the tear outside. My only realistic way out of this death trap would be with primeancy use, and even then, escape would be difficult. I’d have to shift collapsed stone with Daevetch and use Ele to prevent another cascade, all while holding perfectly still without an outside view. The task seemed more than a little daunting, but it was possible. Or it would be if I could reach either of my sources, which the tear was preventing. Dear gods, I hoped that was the case, at least.

Maybe… could I draw Ele or Daevetch from the tear? It was a hole into the plane that the primal forces occupied.

Hesitantly, I reached for a point of rigid calm or angry chaos beyond the black oval, but all I got was dread and panic, the typical reaction to something so obviously unnatural, so wrong.

With an exasperated sigh, I gave up on my attempt, although I didn’t relent in my glare. The tear was inanimate, a break in reality. It couldn’t respond to me, but I couldn’t help myself.

“If you’re going to block my splinters, the least you could do is give me another way out of this mess,” I shouted.

After a beat of quiet, Nylion chuckled.

“I like this game,” he said. “Will you relay something for me? I have a few choice words for those damn things, always trying to destroy me when…”

He trailed off as, as if in a delayed response, the middle of the waist-high tear bulged toward me, and for a moment, I was outside Qena, trying to bring their rip in reality under control again. I forgot that stone had ensnared me, forgot that I couldn’t move, and roughly jerked away. Rock ripped patches of skin off of my back and arms, and I stifled a scream while the bulge reached further… further…

Something stepped out of it. In a snap, black shucked away from a humanoid form before returning to its unnaturally natural formation.

A woman. The tear had just dropped a woman into the world.

“Well, that is new,” Nylion dryly said.

Shaking herself, the woman curiously took in her surroundings.

“Yup, this might be it, but don’t get your hopes up,” she said under her breath. “Remember Vathaylia.”

As she came closer, the tear’s halo of wispy light let me get a better look at her. With dirty-blonde hair, brown eyes, and a petite frame, she looked like an ordinary human. That perception was only marred by what she was wearing and the bulging satchel thrown over her shoulder.

A thin, silver chain was circled around her neck, accenting the soft lines of her jaw and exposed collar bones, and an embroidered jacket with knee-length coattails hung in an open cut over her chest, partially hiding a vest and buttoned shift beneath it. A pair of tight pants finished the picture with its cuffs tucked into leather boots that rose to mid-calf. With all of it in wine-red and black colors, it was a strange outfit, and if I hadn’t been so desperate to get away from this woman, I might have liked it.

“If this is home, the door to it opens onto the worst possible exit point,” she sighed. “I don’t see a crack in this cave’s walls. Do you?”

Who was she talking to? Carefully, I scooted as close to stone as I could, scanning her once more. Ordinary female, strange clothes, out-of-place accessories, and a white ball with brightly glowing, blue stripes circling it, one that was rolling alongside her. In my surprise, I must have made a noise because the woman snapped her head in my direction.

“Hello?” she said, reaching for her satchel’s flap. “Is someone there?”

Oh, gods! What should I do? She was coming my way, and what was she? Would she hurt me?

“The only way to find out is to talk to her, Raimie,” Nylion snapped. “Maybe she can help us.”

Oh.

While I’d panicked, the woman had started backing toward the tear with its black ovoid stretching eager fingers for her, and I cursed myself for almost letting a source of possible rescue walk away.

“Wait!” I shouted. “Please, don’t go. Can you help me?”

The woman stopped with the tear close enough to touch her. With her head cocked, she didn’t come closer, but at least she wasn’t leaving. If I could only get her to stay…

“I’ve been trapped by a cave-in, and I can’t move,” I said. “Please, I don’t know who you are or how you came through a tear, but I need your help. Will you give it to me?”

Tensed all to hell, the woman had her hands balled into fists with words tumbling from her lips.

“Don’t intervene, don’t intervene, don’t intervene-”

“Please!” I cried, although my voice was clogged with unshed tears. “My home! My wife! My child! They’ll die if I don’t return soon. Do you require a price from me for your help? Name it! I’ll pay anything, whatever you want. Just please! Help me!”

As the woman hissed a long sigh, tension fled from her.

“I’m going to regret this,” she said.

But she strode toward me, and I couldn’t leash the burn in my eyes any longer. I was sobbing, breathing through my mouth as my nose clogged, screaming in my head at the panic that this impediment added to an already overwhelming pile.

Somewhere nearby, Nylion reached for my hand, almost as wrecked as me. I could feel it, even if I couldn’t see him, and I reciprocated the only way I could: by meeting Nylion’s blind grab through our bond.

“Thank you,” I hiccupped.

“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t figured out how to free you,” the woman said. “Ailig. Light, please.”

The ball at her feet shone with white light, and with a hand on her hip, the woman absently surveyed the rock piled atop me while removing the chain from around her neck. Once it was gone, she spoke, letting a jumble of unintelligible syllables tumble from her lips in a nonsense pattern. Frowning, I tried to make sense of it, grateful for something to help quell this outpouring of emotion.

“I’m… sorry?” I said. “What…? I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

Why didn’t I understand, though? Was she speaking some type of code? I knew Oswin occasionally translated the Hand’s reports before they ended up on my desk, but I’d never heard of anyone from any nation speaking code.

With a sigh, the woman fastened the chain around her neck again.

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t think it would work,” she said. “Keep talking to me. It’s helping me figure out where you are in this mess.”

What should I say, though?

‘Who are you? How did you get inside a tear? Where are you from?’

In the end, I decided on a simpler topic than any of those.

“Can your… companion use Ele?” I asked.

“What’s Ele?” the woman said with her gaze lazily tracking above me.

What was Ele? Everyone knew the answer to that question. Where had she been living? Under a rock?

But then, I hadn’t known much about the primal forces before meeting Rhylix. Given that, I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere in the world, people had never heard of them.

“Ele, the primal force of light, life, order, et. cetera,” I said. “Never heard of it?”

“No,” she said.

She met my eyes through the peephole with a predatory smile flashing over her face.

“Found you!”

“Creepy…” Nylion said.

Oh, like you’re one to talk, I said.

Opening her satchel, the woman dug through it until its lip touched her shoulder, which was… impossible. The bag couldn’t possibly contain her whole arm within it. Chalk it up to another of this woman’s oddities.

Making a triumphant noise, she withdrew a set of gloves. Made of hexagonal, shimmering fabric, glowing tubes had been laid in a spiderweb across their backs with one tube connected to each fingertip.

“Have you heard of the United States of America? Texas? Houston?” she asked.

As she slid the gloves on, I was at a loss for how I should reply. It was like she’d started speaking gibberish again.

“Thought not,” she continued, “but those names are commonplace in my iteration. Don’t judge me for my lack of knowledge about yours. More light, Ailig.”

The little ball brightened considerably, all while she knelt.

“What are those names?” I asked. “Houston?”

I’d hoped that by expressing an interest, I could smooth ruffled feathers, but my tongue tripped over the pronunciation. It almost made me miss when the woman fell still with her features tightening.

“Home,” she whispered.

Shivering, she rubbed her gloved hands together.

“Let’s see if these still work.”

When she grabbed the boulder closest to her, a whine—steadily rising in pitch—screeched against my ears, and I winced. My hands twitched, so badly did I want to block out the noise, but they were helplessly trapped at my sides. Mercifully, the jarring noise soon stopped while the boulder puffed into a cloud of fine, white granules.

Giggling, the woman kissed her palms.

“Good job, my lovelies!” she said.

And I lurched free of my shock.

“What was that?” I yelped.

She snapped stern eyes toward me.

“No. I’ve already done more, said more, than I should. I don’t want a repeat of Hiyuki,” she said. “You’re getting nothing more from me, stranger, so why don’t you talk instead? Tell me your life story. Make us strangers no longer.”

I understood stubborn women better than most—my wife was one, after all—so I knew when I should retreat, lest I unleash an onslaught of petulance. If I wanted, I could try coaxing more information from this woman later. For now, I told her about Auden, Ada’ir, and me in between sporadic bouts of my coffin’s destruction.

Sometimes, the pauses between those vanished boulders stretched long, and in others, the woman asked me to be quiet so she could consult with Ailig. It was a delicate process, exhuming me. If she incorrectly shifted one rock, I’d become meat paste between the rubble above and the cave floor below.

Even with those breaks in my talking, I exhausted safe conversation topics in what felt like no time, although it must have been hours. I tried to match the woman’s silence, but quiet had never agreed with me.

Unless I was alone. Which I never was with Nylion in my life.

Can I-? I started.

“Tell her about me?” Nylion said. “I have no issue with it. I doubt she will be around for long after helping us. Plus, I would kill to fill this silence right now.”

So, I strayed into my most guarded secrets and fear, starting with the other half of me, but I also talked about my splinters, Rhylix, my mother, meeting with Alouin, and the fear that those meetings had only been the product of a dying mind.

The last two were the only revelations that elicited a response from the woman. I’d long since stopped craning my neck to watch her work, so my only indication that I’d caught her by surprise was a choked gasp at the mention of Alouin’s name.

“Out of everything you’ve heard, that’s what surprises you?” I asked with amusement.

The whine of another rock’s crumble cut me off mid-question, and when the noise fell silent, I stubbornly held my tongue, certain she'd interrupted me on purpose.

“Sorry. That was rude,” the woman eventually said. “Alongside rips in reality, Alouin is one of the fixed concepts in every parallel universe, although he’s not always called ‘Alouin’ and the reality rips aren’t always apparent. You and one other man are the only people I’ve come across who’ve met him. As for the rest of your story… I don’t know what to say. Life’s dealt you a rough hand.”

Frowning, I shifted in place as much as I could. I didn’t think my life had been so bad. Sure, it was hard at times, but the good outweighed the bad, or at least, I thought so.

Was I missing something?

Clicking my tongue, I shoved that question aside.

“Who else among your acquaintances has met Alouin?” I asked. “And was this other person’s experience similar to mine?”

The woman’s shuffling had grown louder recently, but now, it seemed to be coming from the other side of the closest stone.

“His name was Kasai, and he was my… friend,” she said.

But she’d spoken the word ‘friend’ so mournfully that I could almost feel her grief as my own.

“And yes,” she continued, “it was similar.”

Another high-pitched hum assaulted my ears with another rock puffing into dust, and with it gone, light spilled into my coffin. Seeing it, my heart soared.

“You should be able to squeeze through- whoa!” the woman shouted.

I couldn’t blame her for shouting, though, frantically scrambling past as I was. Gods, I’d almost knocked her over, but there was Nylion with his arms outstretched, and I was barreling into him, even if I had to stop my own momentum. I was crying with my face buried into Nylion’s neck and by the void…

I could breathe again. I could MOVE.

“We are free,” Nylion roughly said. “Gods. Heart of my heart, I thought we were dead but-”

“We’re free,” I breathed.

I didn’t know how long I stood there, just sobbing and rocking from foot to foot. So much of what I’d been repressing came flooding forth with violent trembling following it, and my other half and I took turns battering each other with our relief and joy and fucking hell…

Pulling away, I said, “That was awful.”

“Yes,” Nylion said.

But we were together. Even now, we were one.

“I love you,” I said.

“Mm. I know,” Nylion hummed. “I love you too.”

With a closed throat, I kissed him, nothing passionate or heated, simply two people abso-fucking-lutely thankful to be alive, but still, when someone cleared her throat, it quickly broke us apart.

The woman!

Spinning, I grabbed her gloved hands, absently taking note of how uncomfortable that made her look.

“Thank you,” I said. “A thousand times, thank you. How can I ever repay this debt?

The woman wrinkled her dust-coated face.

“Your payment was your story, which you’ve already given. Consider us even,” she said. “Besides, don’t you have bigger problems to deal with right now?”

Hearing those words, it was like I’d been punched, which forced the woman to take my weight for a moment.

Doldimar. Elisk. Ren. In my giddiness over breaking free of stone, I’d forgotten the reason behind my urgency to escape what should have been my grave.

“Looks like I dug a path out of this cave while unearthing you.”

Dragging myself free of my detachment, I noted the woman pointing to a hollow crevasse between the cave’s wall and the unsteady rubble pile that I’d been lying beneath.

“You’re free to ‘go forth and save the kingdom’.”

She giggled into her hand.

“Always wanted to say that.”

I pulled myself free of the woman’s support, yearning to squeeze through that crack and run, sprint, fly home, but her presence kept me momentarily tethered here.

“What about you?” I asked. “Will you come with me or…?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ve done enough damage here already,” the woman said, throwing her hands up. “Besides, this isn’t my world. There’s nothing for me here.”

“In that case, thank you once again,” I said. “You’ve done me a great kindness, Mistress… huh. I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“I guess it won’t hurt to tell you that,” the woman said. “It’s Bren.”

“Mistress Bren.”

Stepping back, I bowed low to this woman who’d saved my life.

“I wish you luck on your journey and in your endeavors,” I said.

With a delighted giggle, she said, “And to you, Raimie. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

Flashing me a bright smile, Bren stepped up to the tear with Ailig rolling behind her. A glittering effervescent rope uncoiled from the sphere, and when it touched the tear, something like a doorframe outlined it. Its black center eagerly reached out for them both. As it touched them, Bren waved before it drew them into its embrace.

And she was gone.

Much as I wanted to gnaw on the impossibilities that I’d seen in this place, I couldn’t. I had a catastrophe to avert.

“Bright? Dim?” I asked.

When no one new filled the empty cave, I shook my head.

“Maybe once we are away from the tear?” Nylion said.

I certainly hope so.

Because the alternative was a long hike via mundane means from wherever I was to Elisk, during which time Doldimar would have reasserted his control on Auden.

As I squeezed through the gap, the cave made one final attempt to contain me. My already lacerated back screeched protests at its further abuse, and when I reached the other side, I purposefully ignored the drench of cold sweat soaking me. I wasn’t trapped right now.

“We are free, heart of my heart,” Nylion said.

I know.

On this side of the rubble pile, a narrow passage gradually sloped upward, and the dim glow of sunlight shone down its length. I darted along it, racing for the surface. At first, this race seemed to last minutes and then, days, all as my brain swirled from a lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of…

As I reached the end of the slope, a frustrated shriek echoed down the passage and into an abandoned cave.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I hissed.

“That is… unfortunate,” Nylion said.

He walked out onto a sparkling, frozen, never-ending sprawl of empty landscape, one that offered freedom and hope. My many explorations of the northern wastes should lend me the knowledge I needed to find a beacon of civilization here, and I could start my journey home from there, so that wasn’t why I wanted to godsdamn punch the tunnel’s wall in frustration. The problem was the sheet of clear ice blocking my way, distorting Nylion’s form beyond it.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” I growled. “Melt my way out with my body heat?”

“Certainly a possibility,” Nylion said, rejoining me inside the tunnel, “but-”

“Thank the whole! We found you.”

Bright’s long sought-after voice boomed inside the passage. I spun to find both them and Dim behind me, where no one had previously been standing. They were back, thank Alouin! I wanted to ask where they’d been but-

“We lost you shortly after you followed Arivor,” Bright said. “Where have you-?”

“No time,” I said, tripping over my words. “Dim, I need a precise shade meld. Can you help?”

The Daevetch splinter had been staring down the passage with an almost drunk look creeping over their face, but when I said their name, they jumped, focusing on me.

“I- I can try,” they said.

That response was a bit worrisome when combined with the evidence of Dim’s weakening that I could clearly see, but I couldn’t afford to think about that now, not when Doldimar could be in Elisk at any moment.

“Let’s go, then,” I said.

After regaining my footing, I got my bearings. I was standing on the plains that surrounded Elisk with the city in the distance, and at first glance, everything looked fine. Maybe I’d gotten here in time.

“Raimie…” Nylion breathed.

He pointed, and looking where indicated, I saw a black smudge, spilling over the wall, and the faintest flicker of orange between buildings further up the hill.

The city was in flames.

Interlude 4: The Fall

King Eledis of Auden

18th of Seventh, 3484

My fears have proven true. The peace is over. My son is dead.

1st of Ninth, 3485

Thirteen months, an entire year, of juggling my secret with resisting Doldimar’s sniping attacks. That’s how long Nebailie gave me before sharing my lack of a splinter with the ministers. Two months passed until the cowardly lot had the palace guard arrest me and what’s left of my family. I can hardly blame them for those decisions, especially not my brother. For weeks, Nebailie has been dropping hints of what was to come, like the alms he’s so fond of dispensing to the poor.

I’m almost grateful that it’s come to this. No more struggling with my inability to wield Ele. No more hiding.

At the same time, I want to throttle my jailors because they’ve trapped me in a prison cell with only my angry wife, my terrified heir, and my grief for company. For not only have I spent fifteen months fighting Doldimar, but I’ve also been fleeing the inescapable image that’s burned into my brain. The one where I opened a box that contained my son’s piecemeal body.

Now, I have nowhere to run.

I’m so proud of that brilliant boy. I’ll never know how he kept his evil, son of a bitch captor appeased for five years, but he gave us time to prepare, although after the last year of war, I know that no amount of preparation would have been enough.

The sad saps who are currently discussing my family’s fate have no idea. If they think they can resist evil’s embodiment better than I have, then they’re welcome to try. I only wish they’d make up their minds more quickly about what to do with us.

I know what’s delaying them. The ministers want to publicly execute the three of us, but Nebailie has constantly argued against corporal punishment like that. I doubt he’d back down from that conviction when it comes to the brother he once loved, and he controls Auden’s military. The ministers can’t afford to anger him.

As an added surprise, my family has gained an ally in the Eselan diplomat. Alouin knows why he’s been pleading for us to keep our lives. I’ve shown him nothing but contempt when he’s visited in the past.

Supposedly, he’s sided with us at his seer wife, Drena’s, bidding. The woman must have provided a compelling reason for keeping us alive because we’ve been waiting in this cell for three days, and still, they argue.

I just want to know if my deception has damned us. My gloriously gorgeous wife. My fantastically intelligent heir…

It seems that I’m about to find out. I can hear the tramp of guards’ boots on the prison stairs. Whatever fate awaits us, I thank you, my longtime companion, for being the best of listeners. Hopefully, I can write again soon.
 
 

Enjoy it while it lasts, old man.

Chapter 99: Confrontation

Eledis

 

I told you to inspect that gifted horse with a fine-toothed comb! Now, your entire team's diseased, and you're stranded with no rescue in sight.

-Unknown

 

Kaedesa had been acting strangely during her most recent visit to Auden, but her behavior right now was bordering more on the erratic side of strange. She continually shifted her hands to the pockets where she stashed her journals, a nervous fidgeting that set my skin into a slow crawl. After dismissing the guard hovering over her, she’d hardly partaken of the feast set before her, picking at the bones of her dish, and alternated between bouts of pleased conversation and moody quiet.

I didn’t know what to do with it.

“How are you finding our fair city this year?” I asked while buttering a roll.

She probably couldn't reply with much more than empty compliments. Since her arrival for the ball a few days ago, Kaedesa had yet to leave the palace. This dinner was the first time she’d emerged from her quarters, which was an outlier for her behaviorally.

While she loved to complain to anyone who’d listen about events like a ball, my experience with her belied those assertions. Social butterfly that she was, she’d never miss an event as widely anticipated as Auden’s Anniversary Ball, one where her beloved Raimie had promised momentous news, unless something truly intriguing had preoccupied her.

The acceptable length of time needed for Kaedesa to answer my question came to an end, sending us wandering into the territory of the awkward, but she never noticed. She fiddled with her utensils, hunched over her meal with a curtain of hair hiding her face.

“What’s wrong, ‘desa?” I asked.

Maybe if I used Marcuset’s nickname for her, it would get a reaction, and indeed, it did. Kaedesa winced, which made me cringe and suppress a need to apologize.

“Don’t, Eledis,” she said. “Don’t use that name. I like it when you call me ‘saya.”

Lash-framed emerald eyes peered from behind Kaedesa’s hair, daring me to meet them, and I answered that challenge, even as a tingle of nervous anticipation zipped down my spine. Shivering, I folded my hands in my lap while lazily reclining in my chair.

“Why use the name ‘saya?” I asked. “That nickname holds no resemblance to your-”

“I remember, Eledis,” she said, cutting me off, “or rather, this helped me remember.”

She withdrew a notebook from her pocket. Its pages wore the marks of use and age well, holding together despite its yellowed must and crinkled corners, and at the sight of it, warmth drove ice out of my chest. I still remembered her smile when I’d given that journal to her.

Then, a hollow pit carved through that warmth. After that blasted seer had cursed us, I’d helplessly watched her sob while she’d scribbled everything she’d need to remember into the journal.

She’d read it. She remembered. My heart couldn’t take the anxiety of what she’d say next.

“You’re the one who reminded me about the archives,” she said. “I store my oldest and most important journals there, among the many transcriptions of them that I’ve had made. When I came home after my last stay in Auden, I visited the archives in the hopes that you and Aramar might have missed something in your purge of your family from my memories. Instead, I found this.”

For how thin and airy it appeared, the journal loudly thumped to the table when she dropped it.

“Illasaya…” I breathed.

I was clenching my hands so tightly that my finger bones ground against one another. The times when she was her instead of an adopted, false persona were few and far between. What should I say to her? I’d thoroughly demolished our relationship during my negotiations with Doldimar. Giving our son over to him as a hostage had seen to that.

So, could I say anything to fix what we’d had? Considering how our old nemesis had vanished without a trace, our curse might soon break. This might be my last chance to make amends.

“I’m sorry, ‘saya,” I started.

But anger squeezed that apology into silence. Almost three hundred years had come and gone, and she still hadn’t forgiven me.

“He was my son too!” I said in a strangled cry. “Do you know, I have moments when I look at Raimie and I ache to hold our son, the two are so similar? I miss him too!”

Illasaya scraped her chair along the floor, gripping the tabletop so fiercely that her knuckles turned white.

“Our baby died a lifetime ago, Eledis. I've long forgiven that mistake,” she said. “Do you know what I couldn’t stand?”

I matched her in stance and volume.

“What?” I snapped. “What action of mine was so horrible that you felt the need to marry another man?”

Circling the table, Illasaya got in my face, and my traitorous heart skipped a beat, despite the singe of anger surging along my veins.

“Your self-loathing, doubt, and pettiness were what distanced me from you, not some monstrous act,” she shouted. “For years, I tried to snap you out of your slump, but all you could think about, talk about, Alouin even show passion for were Auden and destroying Doldimar. You turned our dead son into the mark of your shame, the banner of your revenge, never seeing the blessing we’d been given. Life for as long as we wanted it! Together with one another.”

I tried to cut in, but sharp pain across my cheek halted that effort.

“You warped our living son into an unrecognizable weapon because of your guilt. He died thinking he’d failed you, and you’ve branded your mark into each of our descendants since, all because of a remorse you refuse to surrender,” Illasaya said, rubbing her palm. “Where did my husband go? Where’s the smart, poised, charming man I married?”

Once her words had trickled to nothing, I warily eyed her.

“Are you quite finished?”

Stepping away with heat coloring the back of her neck, Illasaya nodded.

“Then, let’s go,” I said.

I’d almost made it out of the room before her strangled voice chased me.

“What?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I said, “You said you wanted a life together. I’d assume we don’t need to lead it here. So, let’s go.”

She always had looked cute when shocked. Something about the frustrated gape of her mouth…

“I don’t follow,” she said.

“Obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes, “otherwise, we’d already be out the door.”

I chuckled at her growl.

“‘saya, I only ever fixated on Auden because I thought you wanted it,” I said. “I won’t deny that the idea of wiping Doldimar from existence sustained me during our exile’s initial years. I also wouldn’t disagree that I blamed myself for the disasters that ended in our exile and our children…”

I trailed off, unwilling to face how much the sacrifice of one son had cut me off from loving the other or any of the descendants who'd followed. 

Shaking my head, I continued, “But I never cared about Auden. I cared about you and your desires, and you didn’t seem happy without a realm to rule. So, I endeavored to get you one.”

A tiny squeak accompanied a faint flush in Illasaya’s cheeks, but she still looked unhappy.

“If that’s true, why did you keep obsessing, even after I claimed Ada’ir as my own?” she said.

That… was a harder question to answer.

“When you married Belqarim—”

On speaking that name, I twisted my lips into a sneer.

“—I thought you’d left me for good. I had nothing to live for, besides the vain hope that giving you Auden would return you to me.”
Pathetic, really, but it was the truth. I wasn’t sure what Illasaya thought of my confession, not with her face having gone carefully blank.

“What about your family?” she said. “Aramar and Raimie? They weren’t enough for you?”

“Aramar…”

I trailed off, scrambling for a sensible explanation.

“He made an irreconcilable mistake when he married Samantha. She was trouble from the moment the tear spat her into our world, but even knowing that, he proceeded to get further entangled with that woman,” I said. “I couldn’t forgive him for it, despite his potential. Still can’t. As for Raimie, you know why I don’t like him.”

“He’s a constant reminder of what you perceive as failure,” Illasaya said.

I reeled away from her frank assessment.

“How did he attract not only an Ele splinter but a Daevetch one as well?” I growled, lifting my hands to my hair. “Why not me? If an Ele splinter had come to me like it was supposed to, perhaps Doldimar wouldn’t have risen to power. Perhaps our son-”

Illasaya pried my hands off of my head. When had she crossed the room?

“There it is. Your self-loathing,” she said. “You did the best you could in difficult circumstances. Forgive yourself. I certainly have.”

How could she say that? How could she forgive me? I didn’t deserve…

But wasn’t that the point of forgiveness? To be given to the underserving?

Drawing a shuddering breath, I laughed. Here I was, complaining that Illasaya had never forgiven me for my mistakes, and when she did just that, all I wanted was to scream that it wasn't warranted, that I deserved her hate. Alouin, I’d been using the perception of my wife’s loathing to feed my lack of self-worth.

When she gently squeezed my hands, I brushed hers with my lips.

“You’re correct, as usual,” I said. “If you’ll stay by my side, I promise to work on it until I can find the man you married once more.”

“A promise I can easily make,” Illasaya said.

A dense knot that I’d been carrying since our exile loosened, and for the first time in centuries, I could breathe easy.

“Let’s leave this palace of memories, my love,” I said. “The world awaits us.”

“After you,” Illasaya said, smirking.

Oh, I’d missed her.

With a contented sigh, I opened the dining room door and nearly collided with Oswin.

Dismissively waving at the man, I said, “Whatever it is, I don’t care-”

“Sir, your presence is required in the Ministers’ Chamber,” he said. “We may have a problem.”

I took in Oswin’s ashen complexion and jerky eyes before slumping. It looked like this damn kingdom would rope me into one final service to it before I could leave.

Chapter 100: Wrecked Plans

Eledis

 

Storming into the Ministers’ chamber, I roared, “All right, you lot! What’s so difficult that you couldn’t figure it out on your own?”

I’d been so close to happiness with Illasaya, only to have it snatched away at the last moment. It was enough to make even the most congenial of men irritable, and congenial, I was not.

This had better be good.

The Minister’s Chamber was decidedly less populated than when I’d been king. Five people: Kylorian, Oswin, Marcuset, and the two Eliskians whose names I could never remember—Umvarith? Xyro?—versus the dozens who’d crowded the room centuries ago.

They were huddled in front of the windows that overlooked the city with an unspoken anxiety tautening the air. I strode to join them, and as if breaking free of a haunted reverie, Marcuset faced me with his hands raised.

“Eledis…” he said.

The petrified look on my friend’s face quickened my step rather than slowing it, as Marcuset had probably intended, and I soon drew even with the other ministers.

For a moment, I didn’t understand what had them so concerned. Elisk presented the perfect picture of a peaceful evening with citizens going about their business in their usual, unhurried pace, but when I inspected the plains outside the city wall, my heart skittered to a stop.

A moving carpet of flesh and armor had blanketed what had once been flourishing grass while the fading sunlight glinted off steel. An army, one that we’d never called for, and-

I clutched my chest, leaning against a window frame as my heart tried to break out of its flesh-and-bone cage.

An enemy was approaching Elisk, and no one was waiting on top of the wall to greet them.

“How did this happen?” I hissed. “How did Doldimar—”

Because who else could it be?

“—sneak up on us like this, and where are our soldiers?”

“Over the last few days, the city guard’s been needed more than ever to soothe the tension between the races,” Kylorian said. “I had to pull defenders off of the wall to keep the peace.”

“All of them?” I growled.

I rounded on the younger man, the one who looked so like Nebailie, and as Kylorian cowered before my wrath, a cold wash dampened the heat of my anger. It was the same face my brother had worn when our father…

I sighed.

“Go rally the troops, Ky, fast as you can, and we might have a chance,” I said. “Their orders are to defend the wall the best they can, focusing on the gates. When they’re overwhelmed, they’re to fall back to the palace.”

Curtly nodding, Kylorian made to leave before I pulled him up short with a final instruction.

“Take Marcuset with you,” I said. “He can help.”

“What?” both men exclaimed before diverging.

“My place is with you!” came from Marcuset.

“I don’t need any help,” said Kylorian.

Alouin, mortal beings and our insistence on letting emotions rule us.

“Kylorian, you’re about to face Doldimar,” I said. “I assume four years haven’t dulled your memory of what the Dark Lord can do?”

The younger man roughly recoiled, slapping a hand to the back of his neck, before staring at his feet.

“That’s what I thought,” I said. “You’ll need all the help you can get, and Marcuset has more experience with battles like this than you ever will. He goes with you. Understood?”

Kylorian moved his head the merest fraction of an inch in acceptance.

“And Marcu… Emir.”

Lowering my voice, I infused warmth into it, adding a tinge of urgency to denote what I must wordlessly convey.

“Watch him.”

My best and only friend clicked his heels together as he held a hand over his heart, bowing.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said.

He rose, cocking his head as if to ask Did you like the performance? and I’ll see you on the other side, right? Imperceptibly nodding, I shooed both men away. My friend led Kylorian out of the room, peppering the younger man with questions while he summoned a host of weapons from Alouin knew where.

Good. That was settled. It was a stopgap move for now, but it was better than nothing.

When I returned my attention to the remaining ministers, I smirked at their ruffled composures, although… anxiety had become a standard look for Oswin in the days since the Anniversary Ball.

“What?” I snapped. “Don’t pretend that you haven’t noticed my exact resemblance to the old king in the years we’ve worked together. I assumed you three knew that I was him, based on your constant hostility toward me.”

Opening his mouth to retort, Oswin reached for his weapons, but I waved him into silence.

“Don’t worry. Now that I know my heart's desire won't demand the throne, I’m not a threat to Raimie,” I said. “I want to be king as much as I want to lose the coming battle. Raimie can keep the title and all the pressure that comes with it.”

The tension holding Oswin upright loosened, and he clutched at the windowsill as if his strings had been cut. That man did not look good. A disconcerting mix of red and bruise-like purple rings hung beneath his eyes, and his normally impeccable hygiene had taken a hit, leaving behind a patchy forest of stubble and knotted, mussed hair. Even his uniform had suffered with several snapped buttons and stains marring the front of it.

I’d hate to distress the man further—he’s been a useful tool over the years—but…

“How exactly did an army of that size sneak up on the capital without the Hand noticing?” I asked.

“The five of us-” Oswin started.

“Four, I think it’s now safe to say,” the human minister—Umvarith, I decided—interrupted.

Oswin sucked in air as if gut-punched, and that intake stiffened and straightened him until he towered over the rest of us. I watched him struggle to keep grief off his face, to stop his tears’ insistent crawl to the surface and internally nodded.

Good man. We couldn’t afford for our best spy to devolve into a shuddering pile of pain, not now. He could indulge in it once this was over.

“The four of us,” Oswin slowly said, “aren’t enough to cover the entire realm by ourselves, especially if we’re expected to safeguard the royal family as well. Protecting Auden as a whole is the military’s job.”

“If I were to guess, I’d say that this army marched from the former Eselan Haven. Elisk’s proximity to the Haven might have allowed the enemy to advance on the city without a warning reaching us first. A threat like this is why I’ve been pushing for the establishment of a garrison on the Haven-Auden border, but the ministers have never provided enough troops or funds to support one.”

Oswin stopped, letting his unspoken accusation hang heavy in the air, until eventually, the Eselan minister—Xyro?—cleared his throat.

“The past is the past. Let’s focus our efforts on our current disaster,” he said. “How do we plan on surviving the army that’s coming for us?”

No one had an answer for him. Even I was relegated to silence.

At Raimie’s insistence, we ministers might have made several plans to resist the eventuality of Doldimar’s return, but all of them had assumed that we’d have time to prepare before the enemy stood on our doorstep. As it was, we had—I glanced out the window—an hour, maybe two. If Kylorian and Emir could convince our troops to man the wall in that short span of time, I’d count it as a miracle, but even then, how long could we last?

For the first time, I caught myself wishing that Raimie was with me. Much as that boy’s presence disturbed me, certain situations called for him. For instance, when his minsters balked at solving a problem, who did they usually turn to for a solution?

A crash broke our silence, and I spun, hardly daring to believe that my thoughts alone had summoned Raimie, but that hope was quickly squashed. A few feet distant, a teenager was fighting to disentangle himself from the curtains that he’d gotten caught in. Out of breath from that struggle, he sprang to his feet, scanning the room without truly seeing it.

“OhthankthegodsIfoundit,” he exhaled in a burst.

“Tejesper,” I cautiously said.

The Daevetch primeancer recoiled from the noise I’d made with his hands coated in shadows, but the confusion clouding his eyes quickly cleared when he saw us.

“Ministers!” he said, dispelling his summoned dark energy. “I’m sorry to be short, but I must see the queen. Where is she?”

Alouin, he was twitchy. Swallowing hard, I slowly backed away. The more distance I could put between me and a possibly mad Daevetch primeancer, the better. In contradiction to me, Oswin moved forward with his hands extended.

“Calm down, Tejesper,” he said. “What’s wrong? Where’s Raimie?’

“He’s on the isle, distracting Doldimar, or he was when I left,” Tejesper said with the words almost vomited from him. “I’m not sure how long I was lost in the shadows.”

His eyes landed on the door.

“I must inform the queen that an attack is imminent!”

Dismissing us, he briskly strode toward what must seem like an escape.

“We already know,” I said, halting Tejesper mid-step.

When I pointed toward the windows, the teenager stumbled in his dash to press his nose against the glass.

“No…” he moaned. “No, no, no!”

A strained noise wrenched through the teenager’s despair.

“Tejesper,” Oswin said with something awful in his voice, “what do you mean ‘Raimie’s distracting Doldimar’?”

The Daevetch primeancer snapped his tear-streaked face toward the spymaster.

“What I said,” he said. “Doldimar came to play his games with the king, but Raimie wasn’t having any of it. He sent me here to raise the warning, but I’m too late, and we’re going to die…”

He returned to the view outside, drawn like a moth to the flame, and once he’d fully faced it, his face slackened as if in the beginning stages of intoxication.

“Take me to him,” Oswin said. “I won’t let that idiot get himself killed when I can help him. Not again.”

“Can’t. Orders are to retreat to the fallback point once the message is delivered,” Tejesper said in a sing-song voice and with a grin pulling at his lips. “Apparently, me and mine will be useless against Doldimar, despite hopes to the contrary.”

Retreat. Fallback point. Take me to him. Hearing these things, an idea started tickling at the back of my mind. If only the others would hush long enough for it to fully form.

“I don’t give a damn about your orders!” Oswin growled. “I care about my friend. Take me to him! Now.”

He reached for Tejesper’s shoulder, but before his hand could land, the spymaster was on the ground with Tejesper’s shadow-covered fist where Oswin’s stomach had just been.

“I follow the king’s orders, not yours,” he said.

Then, he slumped against the glass with the fingers of one hand splayed there, and my stomach twisted as I realized exactly why Daevetch primeancers would be problematic in a fight against Doldimar.

“Then, why—”

Struggling to his feet, Oswin coughed.

“—aren’t you following your orders? Why aren’t you at the fallback point with your brethren?”

Fallback point. Retreat. Take me. Brethren.

As a plan crystallized in my head, I somehow managed to hide my hiss, all while suppressing a savage desire to lash out at someone.

Oh, Illasaya… she’d forgiven me for so much. I hope she could forgive this.

“Tejesper’s stayed because he’s realized that he and his fellow primeancers can do more for the king’s people,” I said. “Everyone knows that their safety is Raimie’s highest priority. If he were here, he’d change his orders for the Daevetch primeancers.”

Both Oswin and Tejesper were staring at me like I’d lost my mind. Unlike them, the ministers were doing their best to become invisible, but this was good. If I could capture his attention, the teenager wasn’t completely lost in Doldimar’s sway.

“Exactly how would the king change his orders?” Umvarith eventually said.

I was glad someone had asked.

“The Daevetch primeancers can evacuate the city,” I said.

Single-word questions burst on my ears, and making a face, I waved for the others to be quiet.

“Daevetch primeancers have the ability to travel across long distances near-instantaneously, and when using it, they can take other people with them,” I said. “On the day of his investiture, it’s how the king rescued the queen.”

“All true,” Tejesper said before raising a finger, “but! Shade melding requires extreme force of will, and it’s not exactly the definition of precise. My trip to reach Elisk took at least a dozen tries. Only the exceedingly powerful among us manage to land where they want to go on their first try.”

“We don’t need precision. Being anywhere besides the city would be preferable right now,” I said. “Do you know what will happen when the gates fall and the Kiraak stream into Elisk?”

Tejesper curled his hands into fists.

“Yes,” he said, “which is why I’ll stay and retrieve Nessaira from wherever she’s hiding, but you shouldn’t involve the others. They’re only children. I can barely resist Doldimar’s pull. What do you think will happen to them, if they’re exposed?”

I pointed at a steadily advancing army and the tranquil city below us.

“Children also live on those streets. They laugh and play while their parents watch over them, but their short lives are about to be uprooted,” I said. “Your people can help those children. They should be given the chance to do so.”

The other four people in the room held their breath while Tejesper fought against my conclusions, but soon enough, the fists at his sides unclenched while a long sigh escaped from him.

“I’ll ask,” he said. “What’s our target destination when we return to evacuate the city?”

“The gardens,” I said.

Rhylix’s forest was the most easily recognizable landmark in Elisk, and as an added benefit, a second wall surrounded it. Under its canopy, Rhylix and Nessaira had taken their primeancer students to train many times before.

“Aiming for a familiar target will make our task easier. Thank you,” Tejesper said. “I’ll bring help as soon as I can.”

Stalking into a patch of shadows, he vanished.

“So, the civilians are handled,” Oswin said. “How do we hold the city?”

“We don’t,” I said, “or rather, we hinder Doldimar for as long as we can in order to evacuate as many Eliskians as possible.”

“But-” Xyro started.

“Look at that army, minister,” I said. “How many Kiraak do you see? A thousand? Five?”

“Looks more like twenty thousand,” Oswin said, answering for the other two. “Fifteen, if we’re lucky.”

“And how many of our soldiers are in the city, rather than scattered throughout the kingdom?” I asked.

“One thousand, four hundred and sixty-four,” Oswin said, hugging himself.

That gave me pause. Why were the city guard’s numbers so low?

“Exactly,” I managed to say without my voice shaking. “My hope is that we can last long enough to evacuate a significant chunk of the population, but those hopes aren’t high.”

“So, that’s it?” Umvarith drawled. “The plan is to fight for as long as possible and then run? Sounds to me like you’re taking the coward’s way out. Again.”

I took a calming breath. The other man was using sarcasm and anger to blunt his terror. He hadn’t meant what he’d said.

“Do you have a better idea?” I asked. “Because if so, I’m all ears.”

Umvarith merely clenched his lips together, unable to speak.

“If not, I’d appreciate it if you, Xyro, and your respective networks gathered Elisk’s citizens in the gardens,” I said. “I know it will be difficult, but try to keep them calm. You should be good at appeasement like that, or you wouldn’t hold ministerial positions.”

The Eliskians met the challenge with puffed-out chests and blustered words of acceptance before rushing out of the room.

Staring after them, I muttered, “Huh. That’s the first time I’ve guessed a minister’s name correctly.”

“What about me?”

And I jumped. Somehow, I’d forgotten about the spymaster. Even when he was part of a conversation, he blended into the background, but since he was here, what mission could I relegate to Oswin…?

Oh! Perfect for a spy!

“Find Ren and try to convince her to leave,” I said. “Protect her.”

Oswin blanched, which I found amusing. I could hardly blame him, though. The queen had been getting increasingly irritable the longer she’d been with child, and if that weren’t enough, she’d probably mirror her husband’s habits, insisting that she stay with her people until the last possible second.

But this was needed.

Grabbing the spy’s arm, I said, “Oswin, listen to me. Your task might not be the most important from the city’s standpoint, but it’s essential for Raimie’s sake. If either Ren or the baby dies…”

Nylion would assume control.

“I know you’ve always found my family’s foretelling silly, but you didn’t know the seer who made it like I did. Drena was many things, but she was never wrong. Raimie is required if we’re ever to rid the world of Doldimar. Don’t let the deaths of his wife or child compromise him.”

Gently, Oswin removed my hand, all while regarding me with inscrutable eyes.

“I understand and accept the task, Eledis,” he said. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you planning to do?”

I smiled. How did I convey that despite my despair that this source of redemption had come in such a devastating way, joy was singing along my every nerve, saturating my mind with bright liberation?

“I plan to fight,” I said.