James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

The Orkoth formed in front of them, as nightmarish as Davian remembered it. Its eyeless gaze sent a shiver down his spine… however the creature did not seem aggressive. Instead it just stood there, motionless.

Awaiting orders, Davian realised with horror.

“ Adruus il. Devidri si Davian ,” said Malshash, gesturing towards Davian.

“ Devidri si Davian ,” repeated the Orkoth.

“ Sha jannin di ,” said Malshash. The creature bowed – bowed! – and seemed to disintegrate into black smoke. Within seconds the mists had faded again.

“You see,” said Malshash. “Nothing to fear. Orkoth knows you now. He will not attack you.”

Davian gaped for a few moments at Malshash’s back as the older man kept walking, then had to jog to catch up.

“Why can you control it?” he asked quietly.

Malshash waved the question away. “A use of kan. Simple enough when you know how.” He turned, raising an eyebrow at Davian. “I’m sure you have more important questions, though?”

Davian was tempted to pursue the matter, but some of the questions he had thought of in the past few hours came bubbling to the surface. “When I go back,” he said, “ will I go back to the same time as I left? Can I save Nihim?”

Malshash shook his head. “If what I suspect is true, then… no. A part of you – the shadow of a shadow of you – remains in your present. That is what will draw you back, when you’re ready. As much time as you spend here, the same amount of time will have passed when you return.” He shrugged. “The Jha’vett bends the rules, but it seems it cannot break them entirely.”

Davian nodded; he’d hoped it would be otherwise but somehow the answer didn’t surprise him. “Why did you bring me here?” he asked. “How did you get this ring?”

Malshash didn’t stop walking. “I did it to see if I could change things,” he said softly. “And I had the ring because you… left it. Left it for me, I suspect.”

“So we’ve met before?”

Malshash shook his head. “Not exactly. But our paths have crossed - in my past, your future. Briefly. I was trying to prevent you from going to that time," he admitted, looking uncomfortable. "But you must have dropped the ring knowing what I would do with it, I suppose. Knowing this younger version of yourself would end up here.” He laughed, a little bitterly. “Clever.”

Davian hesitated, trying to grasp what Malshash was telling him. "So… you know my future, then?"

"Not really." Malshash gave him an apologetic smile. "Before yesterday, all I knew was your name, and that you were able to travel through the Rift. I did see you at a distance, that one time… you had another scar, on the other side of your face. That was a long time ago for me, though." He shrugged. "That’s all I can offer, I’m afraid."

Davian sighed, massaging his temples. "Then why choose me?"

"You were the only person I knew of who had survived the Rift. This was… a first step. A relatively simple way to see if the past could be altered."

"So you wanted to use the Jha’vett to change something?"

Malshash stared straight ahead. "Yes. And the reasons behind that are my own." His tone indicated he would say no more about it.

They walked for a few more minutes in silence, until finally they came to a large building with white marble columns at the front and an enormous dome. They climbed the stairs and stopped in front of the massive double doors, which were closed. Malshash gestured at them, and they swung open without a sound.

“The Great Library of Deilannis,” he said, indicating Davian should enter.

Davian gaped openly once they were inside. A gentle yellow glow bathed everything, similar to the lighting used in the library back at the school at Caladel. They were in a large room – massive, really – and every wall, every inch of wall, was filled with books. They stretched away into each corner; further along Davian saw an open doorway, through which it looked like there was another room also full to the brim with tomes.

“How are we supposed to find anything in here?” he asked, both awed and a little dismayed.

Malshash grinned. “Fortunately, the Darecians were a rather clever people.” He guided Davian over to a short, squat pillar in the centre of the room, atop which was a translucent blue stone. “Place your hand over this, and think of what you need to know.”

Davian touched the stone lightly. “But I don’t know what book I need.”

“You don’t need to know the name of the book. Just think of what you’re trying to find out.”

A little cynical, Davian took a deep breath and concentrated. He was there to learn to use his Augur abilities, so he could go home. That was what he needed.

The stone beneath his palm began to glow; Davian snatched his hand away as if burned, though there had been no physical sensation. A thread of blue light crept from the stone, slowly but surely stretching out, moving towards the wall until it came to rest touching the spine of a small red book. Another tendril appeared, this time in nearly the opposite direction, eventually attaching itself to a book on the other side of the room.

Three more tendrils appeared, Davian watching in stunned silence. When it became clear there were to be no more, he walked over to the first book, which seemed itself to be glowing with the gentle blue light.

He took it carefully off the shelf. It didn’t have a title, so he flipped it open to a random page.

His eyes widened as he read. It was a discourse, thorough and frank, on the best ways to practice reading another person’s thoughts. He flipped to a different section; this one talked about natural offshoots of being an Augur. Even his own ability – the ability to sense deception – was briefly discussed.

He read on in fascination. There were methods to subtly engage a person’s thoughts, in order to manipulate them. Implied rules, discussions of moral implications. Techniques of focus, ways to achieve clarity when two minds were linked.

It was all there, written plainly and simply, as if it were nothing at all remarkable.

He was lost for a while, flicking pages back and forth in complete fascination. After a time there came a polite cough, and he looked up to see Malshash watching him in amusement. Davian flushed, realising he had been caught up for several minutes now.

“Sorry,” he said, a little abashed. “It’s amazing.”

Malshash smiled. “You’d be wise to at least skim all of them,” he said, gesturing around. Davian glanced up to see that the other books touched by the tendrils of blue light were still glowing. “The Adviser is rarely wrong. It will have picked out only the very best books to satisfy your query.”

Davian looked at the blue stone. “It’s called an Adviser?” He gave a slight smirk.

Malshash rolled his eyes. “ I call it that… you can call it what you want. Just use it. Learn the theory, and I’ll help you put it into practice.” He gestured around grandly. “All the knowledge of the Darecians is here, Davian. They weren’t perfect, but they were more advanced than any other civilization that has walked this earth. Believe me.” He turned, heading towards the doorway. “You know the way back? I will be gone for a few days.”

Davian froze. “You’re leaving?”

“Only for a short while.”

“But….” Davian floundered. “I thought you were going to train me?”

“I will,” Malshash reassured him.

“What if someone else comes?” pressed Davian. The thought of being left alone in the city frightened him. “Am I safe from the Orkoth?”

Malshash grunted. “I told you, Orkoth won’t harm you now. And there is no-one and nothing else here to fear.”