James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

“No – there are several Lockrooms, actually, all around the palace. A relic from the Gifted era.” He pointed to the doorknob. “They each have the same keyhole symbol, just above the handle. It’s worth remembering because around here, you’ll find that there is always someone listening. You should avoid even mentioning the word ‘Augur’ unless you’re inside one of these rooms.”

“Understood.” Asha shifted in her seat. “Anything else I should know?”

Erran thought for a moment, then nodded. “There’s the Journal, of course. You really should have a look at it. It’s in Elocien’s office – stay here, I’ll get it for you.”

He slipped out of the room, and only a few short minutes had passed when he returned with a leather-bound book.

“Have a look,” he said, handing it to her.

Asha flipped through the pages. Most were blank, but the first twenty or so were filled with the same elegant, precise handwriting. She stopped at a page that had been marked with several asterisks.

Vision - Kol

I was standing at the entrance to Fedris Idri, and people seemed to be fleeing Ilin Illan. It wasn’t panicked, exactly, but the streets were full of travellers with carts, horses, anything to carry their possessions away from the city. Everyone looked worried and a few people were upset, crying. Fedris Idri itself was crowded, and from what I could tell at that distance, so were the docks. There didn’t seem to be many ships left in the harbour though.

I listened for a while to one man arguing with his wife - he was claiming that the invaders had no chance of reaching the city, and that everyone was overreacting. His wife replied that the battle was going to take place only days away, and that if General Jash’tar was not victorious against the blind , there wouldn’t be time to pack up and leave once they heard of it.

The weather seemed warm but not hot. The trees lining the Festive boulevard were losing their leaves – it was probably the end of summer or maybe autumn, rather than spring.

Then a gap, followed by:

Confirmation - Fessiricia

It was night, but from where I was in the Middle District, it looked like the entire Lower District was on fire. The smoke was so thick it was difficult to see through, but I definitely saw a group of soldiers running past, all in black armour. They were moving together at the same time, perfectly in step – but the strange thing was that there were no eyeholes in their helmets, no way they could have seen where they were going.

In the distance, I could hear screams and the sound of a battle. I thought it was coming from the Upper District, towards Fedris Idri - but when I started to follow the soldiers to find out more, the vision ended.

There were two more confirmations along a similar vein, one from Erran and another from Fessi. Asha’s stomach turned as she read them. “How many of these have already come true?” she asked uneasily.

“Most of them,” said Erran. “Unless something’s really important, we only tend to See a day or two into the future.” He paused, noting the page she was on. “Those ones are obviously further away than that… but they will happen eventually.”

“You really think someone is going to attack Ilin Illan? And get inside the city?”

Erran nodded. “It seems that way.”

Asha shook her head in dismay. "Do you think it has something to do with why someone is trying to hurt Wirr… Prince Torin? The timing seems…."

"Suspicious. I know," said Erran. "And certainly, anyone attacking Andarra wouldn’t want the Gifted to be freed of the Tenets. But Elocien’s still alive, and while he is, I would have thought King Andras was more of a threat than Torin." He looked about to say something more, but remained silent as the door opened and Elocien walked in.

“The Athian Representative has arrived, Ashalia,” he said without preamble. “He has asked to meet you.”

Asha rose, suddenly nervous. “I’m ready.”

"Good. You can use your real name, by the way - but if anyone asks, you’re from the school in Nalean. I’ll alter your records at Administration to indicate such." The Northwarden glanced at the book in Asha’s hand, then at Erran. “You’ve shown her the Journal?”

“Yes.”

Elocien gave him an approving nod. “Lock it back in my office for now; we’ll keep it there until Ashalia’s quarters have been arranged.”

Erran ducked his head in acquiescence, accepting the Journal from Asha with a friendly smile. “I’ll find you tomorrow sometime, show you around.” He left.

“I should warn you,” said Elocien conversationally as they exited the Lockroom, “ I would not expect the warmest welcome from whomever the Tol has sent. I cannot imagine they will be pleased to be working with a Shadow.”

Asha just nodded in acknowledgement. She suspected the same thing.

Soon they were heading down a passageway into a part of the palace Asha hadn’t seen before; a minute later they arrived at a large, sumptuously furnished waiting room. A man was within, his back to them as he looked out over the perfectly tended gardens. Elocien gave a polite cough.

The man turned, studying them. He was younger than Asha had expected – perhaps in his early forties, lean and athletic-looking, his movements reminding her more of a warrior than an Elder. His short black hair showed no signs of thinning or fading to grey. He smiled, and there was genuine warmth in the expression.

“Representative Michal Alac,” said the Northwarden, “ please meet Ashalia Chaedris, your new colleague.”

Michal stuck out a hand, which Asha hesitantly shook. Thus far at least, she was seeing none of the displeasure she’d expected. Elocien, too, watched the exchange with eyebrows slightly raised.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ashalia,” said Michal.

“You too, Elder Alac.”

“Please. Just Michal. No need for formalities between the only two Athians in the palace.” Michal turned to Elocien. “Thank-you, Your Grace. If you’ll excuse us, I need to go over Ashalia’s duties with her,” he said politely.

Elocien nodded. “Of course.” Once Michal’s back was turned he gave a slight, nonplussed shrug of the shoulders to Asha, then left the room.

Michal sat, gesturing for Asha to do the same. “Elder Eilinar has told me that you are here because the Council thinks it could be advantageous. That in negotiations, some of the Houses might see the presence of a Shadow as Tol Athian reaching out, showing that we aren’t above working with non-Gifted,” he said quietly. “Let me say this straight out - I don’t believe that is the reason. Not for a second. Fortunately, I also don’t care. You’re here, and you’re my assistant. As long as you do this job to the best of your ability, whatever else you do in the palace is your own business.”

Asha swallowed, but nodded. “I’ll work hard,” she promised.

Michal stared at her for a moment, then inclined his head. “Good.” He leaned back, looking a little more relaxed. “Then let’s begin.”

Wirr woke and for a few blissful moments he just lay there, not quite sure where he was.

Then his memory returned. The slow, sickening realisation that it hadn’t been a nightmare twisted through him.

Everyone from the school in Caladel was dead.

He lay there for a while as the truth settled deep in his chest. How long had he slept? No more than a couple of hours, probably; grief had robbed him of his tiredness for much of the night.

He focused on his surroundings. It was still dark, only the faint glow of the street lamp outside providing the faintest of illumination. Soft breathing from the pallets on the floor indicated Davian and Caeden were asleep. On the opposite side of the room though, a dark shape hunched on the edge of Taeris’ bed. The older man was awake.