James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Asha stared at him blankly for a few seconds. “These are all Vessels ?” she asked in disbelief, gesturing to the vast assortment of objects on the shelves.

“Mostly. There are some books thought too valuable to burn. Plenty of things confiscated for spite rather than because they posed a threat. But if you pick something up, chances are it’s a Vessel.”

Asha shook her head, dazed; given the price Administration put on Vessels, the contents of this room represented hundreds of thousands of gold pieces. Maybe more. “How do you….”

“One of the many benefits to having the head of the Administrators on our side. Aside from Elocien, there’s only one other man who has access – Ionis, Administration’s chief adviser in the palace. He rarely comes down here though, so we should be safe.”

Asha took a closer look at one of the shelves. The items on it looked innocuous enough. “What do they do?”

“All sorts of things. Administration took anything they thought could be used as weapons, but nearly half were confiscated because the Tols couldn’t give a satisfactory answer as to what they were for. Some fire bursts of energy, plain and simple. Some can blow a hole through ten feet of stone, or put people to sleep, or create illusions.” Erran smiled. “Some allow you to turn invisible.”

Asha paused. “ That’s why I didn’t see you come into my room, back at the Tol.” She’d wondered about that a few times since she’d arrived, but other questions had always taken precedence.

“We didn’t want anyone to know we were there until we could talk to you.” Erran moved over to a nearby shelf and picked up a torc. It was similar to the twisting, sinuous shape of a Shackle, but this one gleamed silver, not black. “This is what we used. We call it a Veil.”

Asha frowned. “How did Elocien use it, though? He doesn’t have a Reserve.”

“Neither do I.” Erran gave her a crooked smile. “As long as these are filled with Essence beforehand, they’ll work. Without a Reserve to tap into, they last about an hour before the Essence decays.”

Asha frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t have a Reserve?”

“None of us Augurs do.” Erran shrugged. “We can use Essence, but we get it from external sources. We’re not like the Gifted in that respect.”

“Oh.” Suddenly Davian’s struggles with Essence made a lot more sense. The thought, as with all involving Davian, came with a sharp pang of loss. “So… do you have the Mark, then?”

“I don’t – we only get one if we use quite a large amount of Essence at once. Fessi doesn’t have one either, but Kol got his before we realised what would happen. He has to keep his arm covered all the time now.”

“I see.” Asha stared at the torc in Erran’s hand. She hadn’t missed being Gifted more than at that moment.

Erran bared his forearm, then touched the open end of the torc to it. Immediately the metal twisted, became fluid, melding itself to his skin until his arm was rippling silver in the torchlight.

Then he vanished.

Asha blinked. “Erran?”

“Still here,” came Erran’s voice. Suddenly he was visible again, the silver torc back in his hand. He held it out to her with a grin. “Want to try it?”

Asha hesitated. A part of her did want to – badly – but she knew, deep down, it would just be a disappointment. A hollow echo of what it was like to use Essence. She shook her head.

“Why did you bring me down here?” she asked, looking away.

Erran’s smile faded as he saw the expression on her face. Nodding to himself, he moved over a few shelves and located a bound book. He handed it to her silently.

“What’s this?”

“The Journal from before the war.”

Asha stared down at the tome in her hands. “The… Augurs’ Journal?”

“Yes.” Erran gently opened the book for her, then flipped through some pages. “Here. Read some of these.”

Asha did so, her frown deepening as she scanned through the pages of visions. One entry spoke of an earthquake in the south, destroying the city of Prythe. Another described a massive fire in Ilin Illan, with the palace burning to the ground, along with many of the other buildings in the Upper District. A different vision foretold an assassin taking Emperor Uphrai’s life, plunging the Eastern Empire into civil war. Each one was long, detailed, and confirmed by other Augurs.

“None of these happened,” she said eventually.

Erran nodded. “You want to know how I deal with what I See?” He gestured to the Journal. “I hope I’m like them. I hope I’m wrong.”

Asha stared at him, then back at the book in her hands. “So the invasion you foresaw….”

“No. Don’t get the wrong idea,” said Erran hurriedly. “Nothing Fessi, Kol or I have Seen has ever failed to come to pass.” He sighed. “Honestly, I don’t think it’s likely that I’m wrong, Ashalia. We have to assume that everything we See will happen. But… it still gives me hope. And that’s something.”

Asha flipped further through the book, a little stunned. Her brow furrowed as she came to the end. “There are pages missing,” she said, pointing to some ragged edges near the spine.

“Quite a few,” agreed Erran. “We think whoever recovered the Journal after the Night of Ravens must have taken them before handing it over to Administration. With the Augurs and their Scribe dead, there was no way to know what was in them.”

Asha nodded. She kept looking through the book for a while, then handed it back. “Thank-you,” she said sincerely. Erran had been right. Knowing just how wrong the Augurs had been once before… it helped, somehow. Made their visions just a sliver less terrible.

Erran inclined his head. “It’s only right that you have all the facts, anyway. You’re as much a part of this as us, now. You need to know it’s possible.” He put the Journal back in its position on the shelf, then gestured to the door. “We should head back before Representative Alac comes looking for you.”

Asha gave an absent nod, but her mind was on something else. She stared around at the rows upon rows of Vessels stretching away from them. “The invasion… wouldn’t some of these be able to help against whatever is coming?”

Erran shook his head. “The First Tenet would still prevent the Gifted from using them. Even from charging them, in most cases – it’s still intent to use Essence against non-Gifted.” He sighed. “We thought about it long and hard, believe me. But many need a Reserve to even work, and most of those that don’t still need the mental training to control them. The Veils are an exception – and there’s only three of them. Nearly everything else was designed to be used by the Gifted.”

Asha nodded, disappointed. “Of course.” She hesitated. “One last question before we leave. Who’s Commander Hael?”

Erran grimaced, taking a few seconds before replying. “You wouldn’t have seen him, I think - he’s only around the palace now and then. He’s in the army, as you’ve probably already deduced.” He gave an uncomfortable shrug. “I’ve Read him, a couple of times, just to be sure. He doesn’t even know who I am, and he’s not an especially violent man. So… I have no idea why he would stab me.” He stared at the ground, and Asha could tell he didn’t want to talk about it any further.

“Sorry,” said Asha. “I shouldn’t pry.”

Erran shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve just never talked about it with anyone before.”

“Not even Kol and Fessi?”

“Especially not them.” Erran raised an eyebrow. “We can’t discuss our visions, remember? Otherwise this whole system is pointless.”