James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

He gave them one last, tight smile, and headed back up to the North Tower. As soon as his door was shut he collapsed into bed, not even bothering to undress.

Oddly enough, now his fate was sealed, he had no trouble sleeping.

The soft, insistent tapping at the door pricked at Davian’s consciousness.

He lay there for a few seconds as the events of the day came flooding back, settling like a physical weight on his chest. He rolled onto his side, staring out the window into the darkness beyond. It was still pitch-black night – he wasn’t sure how late, exactly, but there was dead silence from the courtyard below, a sure indicator that it was at least past midnight.

The gentle knocking at the door came a second time, finally rousing him. He frowned as he sat up. It didn’t sound like Wirr’s usual confident rap, but perhaps his friend was just exercising some extra caution. Being caught out this late, the night before the Trials, would undoubtedly bring down the wrath of the Elders.

He crossed the room and opened the door, blinking in the sudden torchlight. Ilseth Tenvar stood in the hallway, looking nervous.

“Elder Tenvar!” Davian said bemusedly. There was an awkward pause. The Elders conducting the Trials normally stayed overnight in Caladel, making Ilseth’s presence doubly surprising. “How can I help you?”

Ilseth glanced around, clearly uneasy. “May I come in?” He clutched something small in his left hand, but it was covered in cloth, concealed from view.

Davian shrugged. “Very well,” he said, trying not to sound too reluctant.

Ilseth entered, shutting the door behind him. Noting the open window, he crossed the room and shut that, too. Looking around and apparently satisfied, he took the chair at Davian’s desk; Davian perched opposite him on the bed, still trying to deduce what was happening.

Ilseth paused for a moment, composing himself. Then he made a few gestures in the air; streams of energy flowed from his fingertips, settling into the walls around them.

Davian frowned; he’d seen this done before. Ilseth was Silencing the room.

Once he had finished, Ilseth stared at the cloth-covered bundle in his hands. “Before we begin,” he said, tone grave, “ you need to know that I am sorry to put this burden on you.” He scratched his beard, then took a deep breath. “There is no easy way to say this. I know you’re an Augur, Davian.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in.

Davian felt the blood drain from his face; he leaned back, as if physical distance from Ilseth would somehow help. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ilseth held out his hands in a calming motion. “I am not going to turn you in,” he said quickly. “But I do need you to be honest with me. It’s true?”

Davian stared at the floor for several seconds, heart thudding as he struggled to sort through a wild tangle of emotions. Finally he took a deep, steadying breath, squaring his shoulders. There had been no black smoke from Ilseth’s mouth. The Elder was telling the truth - he wasn’t going to turn him in.

“It… might be,” he admitted reluctantly. “I’ve never had visions of the future, if that’s what you mean. But I’ve always been able to tell when someone is lying to me… it could be a form of Reading, I suppose. I’ve never really been sure.” He frowned. “How did you know?”

"We’ve been watching you. Your inability to use Essence is an indicator, and…" Ilseth shook his head. “The details are not important, Davian, and there isn’t enough time to explain everything. What is important is that you trust me. I need you to use your ability now. I need you to Read me, to believe what I’m about to tell you.” He looked Davian in the eye. “Will you do that?”

Davian nodded. He was concentrating on what Ilseth was saying; his ability would do the rest. “Go ahead. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

Ilseth gave him a relieved smile, then began unwrapping the package in his hands. The white cloth fell away to reveal a small box made of bronze, with intricate details etched into each face of the cube. Ilseth held the box carefully, almost gingerly.

“Our meeting in town today was no accident. I came looking for you,” the Elder admitted. He hesitated. “What do you know of the Boundary?”

Davian frowned. “The barrier of Essence in the north? It’s… old. Impassable.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. "It’s from the time of the Eternity War, I think. From the golden age of the Gifted. So it was created… a thousand years ago? Two?"

“Closer to two.” Ilseth didn’t take his eyes from the box in his hands, its burnished surface seeming to glow in the dim light. "And do you know why it was built? How it came into being?"

"Only what the stories from the Old Religion say." Davian scratched his head, trying to recall what little he’d been taught of the Eternity War, drowsiness still slowing his mental processes a little. "It was to seal off Aarkein Devaed and his creatures… to trap him before he completed his invasion. Before he wiped out everyone in Andarra, if you believe that sort of thing."

"That’s right." Ilseth’s tone was serious. "It’s not a myth, though. Devaed was very much real - not the embodiment of evil the Old Religion would have you think, perhaps, but he was certainly a very powerful, very dangerous man. And the creatures he commanded were real, too. Truly terrible things that even the Darecians, at the height of their powers, couldn’t kill."

Davian frowned. "How can you be sure?"

"There were once entire books devoted to that period of history. Accounts from people living during the Eternity War." Ilseth gave a rueful shake of his head. "Like everything else, though, we kept them at the library at Tol Thane. I’m one of maybe five or six people still alive who once took an interest in that era."

Davian nodded slowly. Tol Thane had been burned to the ground in one of the first attacks of the war, and the vast store of knowledge the Gifted had kept there had been destroyed. He’d often heard the Elders lamenting how much had been lost that day.

"I believe you," he said eventually. "But what does all this have to do with me?"

Ilseth gazed at Davian for a long moment, assessing him. He took a deep breath. "The Boundary is weakening, Davian. Failing. We know how to fix it, but it was created by the Augurs… and without the Augurs' powers, we can’t do anything about it." He rubbed his hands together, a nervous motion. "Devaed is long dead, of course, but there have been… incidents in the north. People disappearing, or dying in the most violent ways imaginable. Sightings of creatures that match the description of dar’gaithin, eletai, shar’kath - some of the worst monsters from the time of the Eternity War." He shook his head. "Some things have already got through - things that no-one alive today is equipped to deal with. There’s no telling what else is waiting beyond if that barrier fails completely."

Davian looked at Ilseth in disbelief. "And you want me to help? But… I have no training. No idea how to -"

"That’s okay." Ilseth made a calming gesture. "Have you heard of the sig’nari?"

"Of course. The Prefects - the Gifted who served directly under the Augurs."

Ilseth nodded. “I was one, before the Unseen War. A few of us survived, and we’ve been watching for the return of the Augurs. For you, and others like you.” He held out the cube towards Davian. “We’re gathering the Augurs again, Davian. Trying to fix this before a terrible evil is unleashed upon Andarra, and hopefully help the new generation of Augurs in the process. If you are willing, this will lead you to somewhere you can be trained. To people who can help you understand and use your abilities.”