James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Davian shifted uncomfortably. “Are you going to untie me now?”

The stranger glanced at Wirr and the young man on the floor, then shook his head. “No. I have the means to verify at least some of your story, so I’ll do that first. I do believe you… but then I’ve met some good liars before. Even ones as young as you.”

Davian scowled. “Do you at least trust me enough to tell me your name?”

The man nodded. “Taeris Sarr,” he said, watching Davian’s face for a reaction.

The name took a moment to register. The same name as the man who had saved him three years ago, who had supposedly broken the First Tenet to kill his attackers.

The man who had been executed by Administration.

“No, you’re not,” said Davian, his brow furrowing. “Taeris Sarr is dead.”

The man smiled. “Is that what they’ve been saying? I wondered.” He shook his head in amusement. “But no. Definitely not dead.”

“You’re lying.” Davian’s voice was flat.

“Is that what your ability is telling you?”

Davian went silent. No puffs of black smoke had escaped the man’s mouth.

“How?” he asked after a few seconds.

The stranger rubbed his disfigured face absently. “I escaped. Presumably Administration decided to tell everyone I’d been executed as planned, rather than face public embarrassment.” He shrugged. "I fled here - one of the few places no-one would think to look for me. Though it seems I cannot escape my past entirely," he added in a dry tone.

Davian made to protest, then subsided. Again, the man was telling the truth.

This was Taeris Sarr.

“It’s… it’s an honour to meet you, Elder Sarr,” said Davian when he’d recovered enough to speak. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished I could thank you for what you did.”

“Taeris will do just fine. Anyone overhears you calling me ‘Elder’, and we’re all dead.” Taeris cleared his throat, looking awkward. “And you don’t need to thank me. Three grown men attacking a thirteen year old boy? I’d have been a poor excuse for a man to not intervene.”

“Still. I’m grateful.” Davian shook his head, dazed. “I have so many questions.”

Taeris glanced out the window. “There is time, I suppose. We cannot do anything until the other two wake, anyway.” He gestured. “Ask away.”

Davian thought for a moment. “Did you really break the First Tenet, when you saved me?”

Taeris chuckled, though the sound held little humour. “Ah. So you still don’t remember, after all this time?” He sighed. “No, lad. I had a couple of daggers, is all. I told them to stop, and they attacked me. So I defended myself. They were drunk, and I’m faster than I look… but after it was done, all Administration saw was three dead men, and an old Gifted who couldn’t have possibly overpowered them.”

“And I was useless as a witness,” realised Davian, horrified. “I’m so sorry.”

Taeris waved away the apology. “You were unconscious for most of it, truth be told – and even if you hadn’t been, your word wouldn’t have been enough. Administration were set on making an example. I was a nice way to remind people how dangerous the Gifted could be without the Tenets. Without them .”

“So how did you escape?” asked Davian.

Taeris hesitated, then drew two small stones from his pocket, one black and one white. “These are Travel Stones,” he explained. “Vessels that create a portal between each other. They’ve come in rather handy, over the years. That day was no exception. Nor was last night, actually.”

“Ah.” Davian had wondered how Taeris had managed to quietly transport three unconscious boys from the middle of the forest to an inn. “So why are you in Desriel? Why were you after him?” He jerked his head towards the young man on the floor. “Are you looking for the sig’nari, too?”

Taeris grimaced. “I have some bad news for you, lad. The man who sent you here - Tenvar - has misled you. There are no sig’nari in Desriel.”

Davian scowled. “That’s not possible. He wasn’t lying.”

“And you’re sure about that? You said you haven’t been able to learn anything about your ability.”

“I’m sure,” snapped Davian.

Taeris looked at him appraisingly. “Does it work through a Shackle?” Davian nodded. “Then let me show you something. I will tell you three things – two truths and one lie. Let’s see if you can tell me which one is false.”

Davian shrugged. “Very well.”

Taeris closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating. “It is midday. We are currently in a town called Dan’mar. I am forty-five years old.”

Davian frowned, his head throbbing a little as he tried to process what was happening. No puffs of darkness had escaped from Taeris' mouth. “They were all true,” he said slowly.

Taeris shook his head. “It is mid-afternoon, we are in a town called Anabir, and I am forty-eight.”

Davian stared in disbelief. Again, nothing.

“How did you do that?” he asked, stunned.

Taeris shrugged. “An old trick. Not one many of your generation would know, but common enough knowledge back when the Augurs ruled. It’s a mental defence, a shield against invasions of the mind. It takes training to do for any period of time, but most people could hold it for a few minutes effectively enough.” He shook his head, seeing the stricken look on Davian’s face. “I am sorry, lad. Truly.”

“But…” Davian stared at the man on the floor. “Who is he, then? Why did Elder Tenvar send me here?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. For what it’s worth, I don’t believe Tenvar was lying about the Boundary. He probably had to lace his tale with as much truth as possible, to be sure he could fool your ability.” Taeris rose. “I have a few enquiries to make in town. If your story checks out, we’ll talk some more.”

He started walking towards the door, then paused, indicating the man sleeping on the floor. “It’s not likely he’ll wake before I’m back, but if he does… best to pretend you’re still asleep. I don’t know why Tenvar lied to you, but if he went to such lengths to send you here, he probably didn’t have your best interests at heart. Which means that man probably doesn’t, either.”

He left. The door closed behind him, leaving Davian pale and shaken.

Tenvar had lied. It had all been for nothing.

Daylight was fading outside by the time Wirr finally stirred.

It didn’t take Davian long to explain to his disbelieving friend what had transpired. Wirr took the news about Ilseth’s deception stoically, for which Davian was grateful. It was Davian’s blind trust of his ability that had led them here, placed them in such a perilous situation. He wasn’t sure he could have handled anger from Wirr atop his own guilt.

Once Davian was finished, Wirr shifted awkwardly on his bed, evidently trying to stretch out some stiff muscles. “So you’re sure it’s Taeris Sarr?”

“As sure as I can be.”

Wirr bit his lip. “Dav, if it is… I know the man saved you, but… you should know that I’ve heard things about him. He’s supposed to be dangerous. Unbalanced, even. If he -”

He cut off at the sound of a key rattling in the lock on the door.

Taeris bustled in, apparently oblivious to the fact he’d interrupted their conversation, and gave a satisfied nod when he saw the man on the floor was still unconscious.

“Davian’s told you who I am?” he asked, turning his attention to Wirr.

Wirr nodded, watching the scarred man with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. “Yes.”

“Good.” Taeris went on to ask Wirr a series of questions about the past few weeks; once he was satisfied that Wirr’s and Davian’s accounts were the same, he strode over to Davian’s bed and began untying him. “My contacts in town were able to verify parts of your story. A well-known Hunter killed in a scuffle in Fejett. A man in Talmiel who collapsed under suspicious circumstances, and woke up with the last two years of his life missing. Not much, but enough for now.”