James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Another evening gone, then. He was running out of those much faster than he would like.

Davian sighed, then adjusted his lamp and began sifting through the myriad books that were scattered haphazardly in front of him. He’d read them all, of course, most several times. None had provided him with any answers - but even so he took a seat, selected a tome at random, and tiredly began to thumb through it.

It was some time later that a sharp knock cut through the heavy silence of the evening.

Davian flinched, then brushed a stray strand of curly black hair from his eyes and crossed to the door, opening it a sliver.

"Wirr," he said in vague surprise, swinging the door wide enough to let his blond-haired friend’s athletic frame through. "What are you doing here?"

Wirr didn’t move to enter, his usually cheerful expression uneasy, and Davian’s stomach churned as he suddenly understood why the other boy had come.

Wirr gave a rueful nod when he saw Davian’s reaction. "They found him, Dav. He’s downstairs. They’re waiting for us."

Davian swallowed. "They want to do it now?"

Wirr just nodded again.

Davian hesitated, but he knew that there was no point delaying. He took a deep breath, then extinguished his lamp and trailed after Wirr down the spiral staircase.

He shivered in the cool night air as they exited the tower and began crossing the dimly-lit courtyard. The school was housed in an enormous, Darecian-era castle; Davian had lived here all his life and knew every inch of these grounds, but tonight the high walls loomed ominously in the darkness.

"Do you know how they caught him?" he asked.

"He used Essence to light his campfire." Wirr shook his head, barely visible against the dying torches on the wall. "Probably wasn’t much more than a trickle, but there were Administrators on the road nearby. Their Finders went off, and…." He shrugged. "They turned him over to Talean a couple of hours ago, and Talean didn’t want this drawn out any longer than it had to be. For everyone’s sake."

"Won’t make it any easier to watch," muttered Davian.

Wirr slowed his stride for a moment, glancing across at his friend. "You could still take Asha up on her offer to replace you, if you wanted. I know it’s technically your turn, but… nobody would blame you."

"No." Davian shook his head firmly. "I can handle it. And anyway, Leehim’s the same age as her - she knows him better than we do. She shouldn’t have to go through that."

"None of us should," murmured Wirr, but he nodded his acceptance and picked up the pace again.

They made their way through the eastern wing of the castle and finally came to Administrator Talean’s office; the door was already open, lamplight spilling out into the hallway. Davian gave a cautious knock on the doorframe as he peered in, and he and Wirr were beckoned inside by a sombre-looking Elder Olin.

"Shut the door, boys," said the grey-haired man, forcing what he probably thought was a reassuring smile at them. "Everyone’s here now."

Davian glanced around as Wirr closed the door behind them, examining the occupants of the small room. Elder Seandra was there, her diminutive form folded into a chair in the corner; the youngest of the school’s teachers was normally all smiles but tonight her expression was weary, resigned.

Administrator Talean was present too, of course, his blue cloak drawn tightly around his shoulders against the cold. He nodded to the boys in silent acknowledgement, looking grim. Davian nodded back, even after three years still vaguely surprised to see that the Administrator was taking no pleasure in these proceedings. It was sometimes hard to remember that Talean truly didn’t hate the Gifted, as so many of his counterparts around Andarra did.

Last of all, secured to a chair in the centre of the room, was Leehim.

The boy was only one year behind Davian at fifteen, but the vulnerability of his position made him look much younger. Leehim’s dark brown hair hung limply over his eyes, his head bowed and motionless. At first, Davian thought he must be unconscious.

Then he noticed Leehim’s hands. Even tied firmly behind his back, they were trembling.

Talean sighed as the door clicked shut. "It seems we’re ready, then," he said quietly. He exchanged glances with Elder Olin, then stepped in front of Leehim so that the boy could see him.

Everyone silently turned their attention to Leehim; the boy’s gaze was now focused on Talean and though he was doing his best to hide it, Davian could see the abject fear in his eyes.

The Administrator took a deep breath.

"Leehim Perethar. Three nights ago, you left the school without a Shackle and unbound by the Fourth Tenet. You violated the Treaty." He said the words formally, but there was compassion in his tone. "As a result, before these witnesses here, you are to be lawfully stripped of your ability to use Essence. After tonight you will not be welcome amongst the Gifted in Andarra - here, or anywhere else - without special dispensation from one of the Tols. Do you understand?"

Leehim nodded, and for a split second Davian thought this might go more easily than it usually did.

Then Leehim spoke, as everyone in his position did eventually.

"Please," he said, his gaze sweeping around the room, eyes pleading. "Please, don’t do this. Don’t make me a Shadow. I made a mistake. It won’t happen again."

Elder Olin looked at him sadly as he stepped forward, a small black disc in his hand. "It’s too late, lad."

Leehim stared at him for a moment as if not comprehending, then shook his head. "No. Wait. Just wait." The tears began to trickle down his cheeks, and he bucked helplessly at his restraints. Davian looked away as he continued imploringly. "Please. Elder Olin. I won’t survive as a Shadow. Elder Seandra. Just wait. I -"

From the corner of his eye, Davian saw Elder Olin reach down and press the black disc against the skin on Leehim’s neck.

He forced himself to turn back and watch as the boy stopped mid-sentence. Only Leehim’s eyes moved now; everything else was motionless. Paralysed.

Elder Olin let go of the disc for a moment; it stuck to Leehim’s neck as if affixed with glue. The Elder straightened, then looked over to Talean, who reluctantly nodded his confirmation.

The Elder leaned down again, this time touching a single finger to the disc.

"I’m sorry, Leehim," he murmured, closing his eyes.

A nimbus of light coalesced around Elder Olin’s hand; after a moment the glow started inching along his extended finger and draining into the disc.

Leehim’s entire body began to shake.

It was just a little at first, barely noticeable, but then suddenly became violent as his muscles started to spasm. Talean gently put his hand on Leehim’s shoulder, steadying the boy so his chair didn’t topple.

Elder Olin removed his finger from the disc after a few more seconds, but Leehim continued to convulse. Bile rose in Davian’s throat as dark lines began to creep outward from Leehim’s eyes, ugly black veins that seemed to crawl across his face, leeching the colour from his skin. A disfigurement that would be with Leehim for the rest of his life.

Then the boy went limp, and it was over.

Talean checked Leehim’s vitals, then helped Elder Olin untie him. "Poor lad probably won’t even remember getting caught," he said softly. He hesitated, then glanced over at Elder Seandra, who was still staring hollowly at Leehim’s slumped form. "I’m sorry it came to this - I know you liked the lad. When he wakes up I’ll give him some food and a few coins before I send him on his way."

Seandra was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Thank-you, Administrator," she said quietly. "I appreciate that."

Davian looked up as Elder Olin finished what he was doing and came to stand in front of the boys.