James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Wirr nodded. They had already heard murmurs against the king - rumours suggesting he had started to take a hard line against the Gifted, just when he should be courting them and considering the possibility of modifying the Tenets. It was hard to know how much was true, and how much was just people’s nervousness - it was only grumbling, the odd word here and there - but the message was clear enough. People were frightened by what they’d heard of the Blind. They wanted the invaders defeated by any means possible.

“Whatever the Blind are, it sounds like what we saw was hardly the worst of what they’ve done,” Wirr noted. Word had begun to trickle in a couple of days ago from those refugees who were brave, or foolish, enough to come to Ilin Illan to help fight. Villages burned to the ground, entire towns razed. Men, women and children – regardless of whether they resisted, fled or surrendered – being slaughtered and left for the animals. “I hope we’re making the right choice, going back to the city.”

“Given the circumstances, it’s the only thing we can do.” It was Taeris interjecting; he’d drifted closer to them and had evidently overheard. He lowered his voice, looking at Wirr. “Before we reach Fedris Idri, Caeden and I will need to part ways with the rest of you.”

Wirr nodded; he’d known it would probably be necessary. “If there’s any way I can help….”

Taeris shook his head, looking up ahead at the steadily growing silhouette of Ilin Tora. “No. Needless to say, Wirr, even though it’s been a few years and my face has… changed, once inside the city I’ll need to tread lightly. I was known to a lot of the Administrators. If I’m caught… well, the last thing you need is to be associated with me.”

Wirr acknowledged the advice with a nod, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Taeris was right; he couldn’t afford to be found travelling with any of the Gifted, let alone with two accused of murder.

“Still. There must be something I can do, even if it’s not directly,” he said. “My name won’t carry much weight in political circles just yet, but Karaliene will be back from Desriel by now. I can probably convince her to use her connections, put pressure on the Council to help you, should things not go well at the Tol.”

Taeris raised an eyebrow. “To do that, you would need to tell her that Caeden and I were in the city. And she didn’t exactly take a shine to us when we last met.”

Wirr nodded. “True - but a lot has changed since Thrindar. You warned us about the Boundary weakening before the invasion began, and that will count for something. I know my father and uncle won’t believe a word of your theory, but Karaliene’s always made up her own mind about things. I think I can convince her."

Taeris looked dubious, but nodded. "I leave it to your judgment, Wirr," he said quietly.

“Then I’ll try. If you fail at the Tol, come to the palace and ask for Aelric or Dezia. I’ll make sure they know what to do. At worst, they have to turn you away.”

Taeris clapped Wirr on the shoulder. “That’s very generous. I hope it won’t come to that, but should the Council be unwilling to listen, I’ll take you up on that offer. There won’t be many other places for us to turn, to be honest.”

Wirr inclined his head. “I’ll also be listening for any notable arrests in the city. If the worst should happen and you get caught, I’ll see what I can do with Administration. It will be risky, but aside from anything else, getting Caeden’s memories restored is too important at the moment.”

Taeris smiled slightly. “You’re a handy man to have around, Wirr.” He glanced over at Caeden. “I should let him know what to expect, I suppose,” he murmured to himself, detaching himself from the group.

Wirr took a deep breath, glancing across at Dezia. “So I suppose this is it. Everything changes,” he said, tone grim despite his best efforts. Ilin Tora was now clearly visible up ahead; Wirr could even make out the gap in the mountains where Fedris Idri lay.

Dezia nodded, almost to herself. “Everything changes,” she repeated quietly.

Caeden looked up as Taeris tapped him on the shoulder.

"We’re nearly at the city," the scarred man informed him. "We should talk about what’s going to happen next."

Caeden nodded. "I’d been wondering." He’d already gathered that Taeris was not on the best of terms with the Tol, and actively wanted by Administration. The end of their trip was going to be no easier than the rest of it, it seemed.

"First, we’re going to split up from the others soon. Before we reach the city."

Caeden frowned. "Why?"

Taeris shrugged. "Justified or not, we’ve been accused of crimes, and the others have not. Aelric and Dezia have reputations to protect, and it’s in Wirr’s best interests if he’s not associated with us either. Starting out in the Tol can be hard enough without that sort of introduction."

"Oh." It made sense… still, he felt the slightest sting of betrayal. It was irrational, he knew, but the others were his closest - only - friends.

Taeris saw his expression and gave him a sympathetic smile. "It was my decision. I insisted," he added. "The others understand the logic behind it, but it’s not something they would have asked for."

Caeden opened his mouth to reply.

Without warning, screams split the air.

Everyone froze as chaos erupted on the road just ahead of them. Travellers in front of them scattered, fleeing across fields, away from a figure swathed in black. A figure hard to focus on, as if somehow deep in shadow despite the noonday sun shining on it.

It was surrounded by bodies – four, Caeden thought. None of them moved.

Taeris gripped his shoulder. “Get ready,” he muttered. “There’s nowhere to run this time. We can’t beat it without you.”

The sha’teth was coming now, walking steadily towards them, though it was covering the distance at an unnatural speed for its gait. Dezia had already unslung her bow and was notching an arrow; Caeden watched in stunned fascination as she loosed and the creature moved smoothly to one side, impossibly fast, the arrow clattering harmlessly to the road behind it. Aelric was trying to push his way forward, sword drawn, but to Caeden’s relief Wirr dragged the other boy back again. Steel would have no place in this battle.

In moments, the creature was standing only twenty feet away.

“You were warned, Taeris Sarr,” it hissed. Its face was covered by its hood, but Caeden could feel the malice of its gaze on him. “I told you that all you needed to do was relinquish him, and no-one else would die. Now, your companions will all pay for your foolishness.”

Caeden closed his eyes, concentrating. He knew what to do.

He moved several paces in front of the others, stretching out his hands towards the sha’teth and tapping his Reserve.

A torrent of energy exploded from him, a blinding wave of yellow-white light. This was power. He gloried in the strength he felt, how vivid the colours of the world were, how right the feeling was.

He released Essence, panting a little from the exertion, almost laughing at how easily it had come to him.

Then he stumbled as the memory crashed into him.

The cold wind of Talan Gol swept silently through the deserted stone streets, sending a shiver down his spine. He increased his pace. Seclusion was an area of Ilshan Gathdel Teth where no living thing survived for long, and powerful though he was, he had no desire to find out why.

He glanced to his right; Gellen was walking alongside him, lost in thought, apparently unperturbed by where they were. That was his way, though. Unflappable, silent unless spoken to but always observing, always thinking. A strong successor to Chane.