James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Davian rubbed his temples; his head had begun to ache. He sat in stunned silence for a few seconds. “Do the other Elders from the Tol know about this? About… me?"

“No.” Ilseth grimaced. “The truth is, Davian, very few of the Gifted can be trusted with your secret. The Tol has been split for years on what to do should an Augur ever be found. Regardless of what is happening at the Boundary, people like me see the Augurs as our way back to restoring balance in Andarra, to stopping the oppression of the Gifted.”

Davian gave a slow nod. “And the others?”

“Would see everyone with those abilities dead.” Ilseth said the words flatly. “And they are in the majority. You said it yourself – many Gifted still hate the Augurs for what happened, for what they seemingly threw away. And like it or not, people will think of you as one of them, no matter how you differ from what they eventually became.”

Davian was silent for several seconds. Ilseth hadn’t lied.

He leaned forward, taking the bronze box from the Elder.

“You said this will guide me, somehow? How does it work?” Davian turned the box over in his hands. It emitted a slight warmth, more than it should have from simply retaining Ilseth’s body heat. It was covered in minute, strange symbols - writing, perhaps, though it was no language that Davian had ever seen.

“I’m… not sure,” admitted Ilseth. “I think it’s a Vessel, though it’s older than most I’ve seen before. But I don’t know how to use it.” He made a face. “I’m only told what I need to know. That way, if I’m ever discovered, I can’t give away anything important.”

“Then what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Just take it north. Do that, and I promise it will take you where you need to go.” Ilseth leaned forward. “You see now why I needed you to Read me, Davian? You’re going to have to take a lot on faith. You need to leave tonight. Now . If you stay, by sunset tomorrow you’ll be a Shadow, and all of this will have been for nothing.”

Davian gazed at Ilseth for a moment longer, massaging his temples again to ease his aching head. No puffs of black smoke had escaped Ilseth’s mouth while he’d been speaking. He was telling the truth. Davian felt a little dizzy, trying to take it all in. “I need to talk with Elder Olin.”

“ No .” The force of Ilseth’s response surprised Davian. The older man hesitated, then sighed. “I’m sorry, Davian, but if the Elders here find out, they will tell your Administrator. And you may have a good relationship with Talean, but if he finds out you’re an Augur, he is bound by the Treaty to turn you in. You know that.”

Davian opened his mouth to respond, but Ilseth held up a hand, forestalling his protest. “Even if I’m wrong, and you can trust the Elders not to say anything - do you really think Elder Olin would just let you go? Leave the school without a Shackle, unbound by the Fourth Tenet, with no explanation, on your word? Even on mine? You can trust me because you know I’m not lying. No-one else has that advantage.”

Davian hesitated. Ilseth was right; none of the Elders would just let him leave, no matter how much trust there was between them.

He acknowledged the statement with a terse nod. He was trapped, underwater with nowhere to surface. The entire conversation felt surreal.

Ilseth watched him closely. “I know this is a lot to take in,” he said, “ but I have to know. Will you go?”

Davian shook his head, not wanting to have to make the decision. “What of the people here? What will you tell them?”

“Nothing.” Ilseth’s tone was firm. “They will think you’ve simply run away for fear of becoming a Shadow - we both know it’s common enough. They’ll send people to look for you, but Tol Athian doesn’t have the resources to waste on runaways for long. At worst, they will tell Administration… but you’d need to be avoiding run-ins with them anyway.”

Davian’s stomach twisted. Asha. Wirr. What would they think? He couldn’t go and explain what was happening now; even if there was time, he had no doubt that they would try to stop him.

He hesitated, then looked Ilseth in the eye. “If I go, you need to promise me you will tell my friends why I left. They can keep a secret.”

“The two I saw you with earlier, I assume.” Ilseth sighed. “They know of your ability?”

“Yes.”

There was silence as Ilseth thought for a moment, adjusting his glasses absently as he did so. “Very well. I’d advise against it, but if it will make your decision easier, I will speak to them after the Trials tomorrow. You have my word.”

Davian nodded. It did make the decision easier – not palatable, not comfortable, but it did help.

And, he realised with surprise, he’d made that decision. Ilseth hadn’t lied once. The chance to finally confront this strange ability he had, the chance to be around people who could tell him something about the Augurs – he had longed for it for some time. And compared to what would happen if he stayed….

“So. North,” he said quietly, hefting the cube in his hand.

“Yes,” said Ilseth with a visible flash of relief. He obviously hadn’t been certain that Davian would go. “I was told only that you need to head northward for as long as it takes, and that you will know exactly where to go when the time comes.” He spread his hands in an apologetic gesture. “I hate to be so cryptic, but that is all the information I have.”

Davian just nodded. He was accepting so much else on faith, the vagueness of the directions seemed hardly surprising. He looked around his room, mind clearer now that he knew his course. “It will take me a few minutes to gather my things.” He paused. “Someone will be on duty at the gate.”

“Leave that to me.” Ilseth drew a small pouch from beneath his robe. It clinked as he tossed it to Davian. “For your journey. Stay away from towns where you can, but you’ll need to buy food, and there will be some nights where the only option is an inn.”

Davian peered inside. A number of gold coins glittered in the heavy pouch – enough to feed him indefinitely, and more. A small fortune.

"Fates," he breathed, a little stunned. “Thank-you.”

Ilseth stood, laying a hand on Davian’s shoulder. “If you can learn to become a true Augur, lad, then it’s worth it a hundred times over.” He headed for the door. “Give me a quarter hour to take care of the guards, then leave. No later, mind you. I won’t be able to distract them for long.” He paused. “And be very careful over the next few weeks, Davian. Stay out of sight where you can. People will be looking for you.”

He opened the door and slipped through, shutting it again behind him.

Davian sat for a few minutes, just holding the bronze box Ilseth had given him, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. Was this really happening? Dazedly, he recalled what he’d overheard earlier that day. Could he be the boy Talean and Ilseth had been talking about, that the Northwarden himself was so interested in? He dismissed the idea immediately. If the other Elders had no knowledge of his ability, there was no way the Northwarden would.

He stood mechanically, fetching a bag from beneath his bed and throwing his scant belongings into it. A couple of plain woollen tunics, a pair of trousers, the cloak Mistress Alita had given him for his last birthday. He had not bothered to undress for bed; he tucked the pouch of coins safely into his belt, hidden from view. Bandits would be an issue on the road anyway, but there was no benefit to tempting them.

The box Ilseth had given him, he wrapped in its cloth and then slipped into a pocket. It was bulky, but if it was as important as Ilseth said, the discomfort was worth having it on his person.