James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

The world blurred for a moment; he lost concentration and everything dropped away, including his sense of kan. He gasped, holding his head, feeling like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over it.

He looked up. Malshash was watching him intently. “Well?”

Davian felt a chill run through him. “You were on the road yesterday. You passed a merchant who sold you food.” He snorted. “You ate all the good stuff before you got back here.”

Malshash considered him for a few more seconds, then broke into a wide smile. “Exactly right.”

Davian smiled back, still examining the memory in his head. It was an odd feeling. He knew the recollection wasn’t his, but he could picture the open fields, the fair weather, the greedy smile of the merchant knowing he could charge double for food so far from a town. It was remarkable.

“Can we try again?” he asked, elated.

Malshash shrugged. “I’ll have to choose a different memory and isolate it, but yes, I think so.”

Davian gave an eager nod. “So is that all there is to it?”

Malshash laughed. “It’s a start. But learning to really understand memories… that’s tricky." He paused. "For example. You just said I ate all the good stuff . Was that your assessment, or mine?"

Davian opened his mouth… and hesitated.

"I suppose… yours," he conceded eventually, brow furrowed. "I don’t really care for figs."

"And the weather was…."

"Fair?" Davian replied, a little uncertainly.

Malshash grinned. "Was it? Were there no clouds, or was it just brighter than I’m accustomed to here in the city? Or was I simply in a good mood?"

Davian shook his head. "I don’t think there were clouds. I can’t picture any. But now that you mention it…. I don’t know," he admitted.

Malshash clapped him on the shoulder. "And that’s the hard part. Even though you relived that memory far more clearly than I ever could have, it’s not just a sensory record of what happened. You’re experiencing the memory as my mind remembers it. Everything is always seen subjectively, coloured by emotion. Memories can even change over time, be affected by new information. Reading a memory one day can be a different experience from Reading that same memory the next."

"So you can’t take what you see for granted?"

"Exactly. That’s not to say it’s completely unreliable; it just needs some experience to interpret what you see. And… you have to be careful. Once you Read someone’s memory, it becomes yours, too. If you’re not careful, that can change you."

He paused, watching Davian to make sure the seriousness of that statement had sunk in before continuing. "Once you’ve mastered memories, there’s still learning how to Read what someone’s thinking at that exact moment. That is difficult. Even people who haven’t been trained have natural barriers protecting their thoughts. You need to learn to get around those, without harming them.”

Davian frowned. “They could get hurt?”

“Yes.” Malshash’s expression was solemn. “All these powers are dangerous in some way, Davian. You can’t just go forcing your way into someone’s mind, not without the mind pushing back. If you do, it can have serious consequences. Their mind could be permanently damaged; in some cases they may even die from the experience.”

Davian paled, thinking back to what Taeris had told him about the smuggler Anaar. “Why didn’t you tell me this before we started training?”

Malshash waved away his concern. “I have everything else walled off. Don’t worry, Davian. You can’t hurt me.”

Davian nodded in relief. “Good.”

Malshash held up a finger in warning, though he had a half-smile on his lips. “By the way - you should know that I always shield my mind from being Read. It’s natural for me now; I do it without thinking. So don’t imagine you can try it sometime when I’m not ready.”

Davian grinned; he hadn’t really considered the possibility. Then his smile faded. “Have you Read me?”

“Oh yes.” Malshash chuckled as he saw the horrified expression on Davian’s face. “Only a little, now and then. To get myself… acquainted with what kind of man you are.” He waved his hands in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry. You’re a good one, in case you were wondering.”

Davian found himself caught between a scowl and a smile; eventually he gave up and chose the latter. “You will have to show me how to shield myself, then,” he said in a begrudging tone.

Malshash nodded. “It’s easy enough. Visualize a box in your mind; anything you want to protect – memories, thoughts, emotions – you lock away inside that box. Anything you don’t need to protect, you leave outside.” He shrugged. “It’s a mental trick, not anything to do with kan. The mind has its own natural defences; as I said, it already goes to some lengths to protect our thoughts. For some reason though, this tricks it into raising even stronger defences. Most of the time, that makes it impenetrable.”

Davian looked at Malshash warily. “It sounds a little easy. How do I know you’re not just telling me this so you can continue to Read me whenever you want?”

Malshash sighed. “You told me that your one ability up until now has been to see when people are trying to deceive you,” he said. “Use it on me. I won’t take offense.”

“It doesn’t work on anyone who can shield themselves,” Davian pointed out.

“Of course it does. Shielding can mask it, but when you see that someone is lying, your mind is in some small way connected to the other person’s. And believe me, people know when they’re lying – it’s not something you can fully hide away, no matter how skilled you are. The signs might be different - may be too subtle for most other Augurs to pick up - but someone with your specific talent should still be able to tell.”

Davian shook his head. “Not that I’ve noticed.” Then he paused. “Tell me something false, then true, then false again.”

Malshash crossed his arms. “I have never met you before. It is seventy years before you were born. Traversing the time rift back is not a risk.”

“And again?”

Malshash repeated what he had said, and Davian sighed.

There it was. A slight pain, a pressure on the temples that he automatically tried to massage away, on the first and third sentences. It had been there all along, and he just hadn’t known what to look for. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy – his confidence in his ability had been badly hurt after Tenvar’s betrayal – or furious that he hadn’t figured it out sooner.

He decided to choose the former. “It works,” he said with a tight smile. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Though for all I know, you could be messing around in my head about this, too.”

Malshash chuckled. “Sorry Davian, but I’m not that interested in what you’re thinking at any given moment.” He grinned to soften any perceived insult.

Davian smiled. “Of course. Sorry.”

Malshash shrugged. “I can’t blame you, I suppose. Once you know what people with these abilities can actually do, it becomes a lot harder to trust them.” He gave a small yawn, glancing around. “That’s probably enough for today, anyway. Nightfall is coming.” He began walking, back towards their house.

Davian squinted at the mists surrounding them, but could detect no change in the light. That was the way it always was in Deilannis: a constant dull grey, enough light to see by, but never bright, never cheerful. Still, Malshash had seemingly been living here long enough to know when day became night.

“So we continue working on Reading tomorrow?” Davian asked, trotting to come up alongside Malshash. This version of the shapeshifter was tall, and his long legs meant his stride was hard to match.