Rachel Aaron: The Spirit War

“I was trying to teach you respect for the spirits!” Banage shouted. “Obviously, I failed. Look at you, a thief and a degenerate, using spirits for your own selfish purposes.” He clenched his fists, his rings glowing brighter as his spirits reflected his anger. “When I think of what you could have been. What I could have made you—”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Eli said, hopping off the table. “I freed myself from your expectations years ago, old man. If you’re going to be disappointed in someone, save it for yourself. You were a terrible teacher and a miserable excuse for a father. If I didn’t turn out the way you wanted, that’s entirely on you.”

Eli started to leave, but Banage moved to stand in his way. Eli reached out to push his father aside, but his hand stopped an inch from the old man’s arm. Banage was looking at him with an expression Eli had never seen on his face before. If it had been anyone else, he would have said the old man was on the verge of tears.

“I am more disappointed in myself than you will ever know,” Banage whispered. “When your mother refused to leave Whitefall’s Council, I took you away from Zarin and tried to raise you as best I could. Every night since you vanished, I’ve been haunted by regret for all I could have done to prevent it. I’ve hated you, Eliton. I’ve despised you, blamed you, but I never, ever stopped loving you.” His hands reached out, fingers trembling, to clutch Eli’s shoulders. “The day I first saw your bounty poster was the happiest day of my life, because that was the day I knew you were still alive.”

“And you sent your apprentice after me,” Eli said.

Banage flinched. “I had to. Whatever you may think, I am responsible for you, as a father and as Rector. I could not let you go on abusing spirits and flaunting the rules of the Court.”

Eli reached up and pried Banage’s fingers off his arms. “I’ve never abused a spirit in my life,” he said. “Ever. Ask Miranda, she knows. So would you, if you knew me at all.”

“And you think for that I should just let you do as you like?” Banage said, his voice growing heated again. “You’re one of the most powerful wizards I’ve ever seen, and yet you insist on being a criminal. If you will not willingly accept the responsibility and self-control that power demands, then it is my duty to make you. If you want to throw your life away, that’s your decision, but you can’t be angry with me for doing my duty!”

“Throwing my life away?” Eli roared. “You finally find me after fifteen years and that’s all you want to talk about? How I’m wasting my power as a wizard? Powers, father.” He looked away in disgust. “All I ever wanted was for you to see that I was worthy of your interest. Me. Not my power as a wizard or my future as a Spiritualist. Just me, Eli, your son.”

He glanced back out of the corner of his eyes, but Banage’s face was sterner than ever. Eli sighed and shook his head. “Obviously that’s too much for you,” he muttered, pushing past Banage and stomping toward the door. “Next time you want to have a private chat, don’t bother unless you’ve got something new to say.”

“Wait.”

Eli paused. He could hear Banage moving, but he didn’t turn back. He didn’t even want to look at the man anymore.

“Your mother is outside,” Banage said, his voice strangely thick. “Will you say something to her?”

“No,” Eli said, stomping down the stairs. “I have even less to say to her than I had for you.”

If he’d looked back then, he would have seen Banage put his head in his hands, but he didn’t. He ran down the stairs two at a time, ducking out at the second-to-last landing, the only landing that had a window. He wiggled through the narrow slit and dropped to the walkway along the sea wall, keeping the tower between himself and the gathered Spiritualists standing at the tower door. He could hear voices on the wind, Miranda’s, Josef’s, and another, a smoky, haughty voice from his memory. Eli stopped, nearly overcome by the memory of fragrant smoke. Then the wind shifted and the voices vanished. Free again, Eli walked to the very end of the sea wall and sat down in the crevice where the wall met the cliff. The fighting had been lighter here, and he was able to find a clean stretch of stone. The fog hid the ravaged battlefield, and staring into the blank grayness, he was almost able to forget where he was and why.

You should have known better, love.

Powers, Eli thought, closing his eyes as the voice filled his mind. Not now.

His ribs burned through his tattered shirt as Benehime’s white arms snaked around him.

I don’t even know why you stayed to talk, she whispered in his ear. To Banage you’re just another duty, another mess to put right. Did you really think it would be any different?

Eli dropped his head. He hated Benehime’s voice at the best of times, but he never hated it as much as when she spoke sense. “Good thing I didn’t call the Spiritualists to go over ancient history,” he muttered. “So long as Banage fights the Empress, I don’t really care what he does with his private time.”

Oh yes. He could hear Benehime’s smile. How goes the good fight? Not well, I’m guessing, considering the sorry state of your darling lava spirit.

Eli set his teeth and said nothing.

He’s going to die, you know, Benehime whispered. Such a waste. I could save him, of course. Him, your swordsman, even your little demon. I could save them all, but oh—She paused. That’s right. You’re not going to ask for my help…

Her voice trailed off, letting the words hang. In the silence, her finger slid across his chest to hover just on the edge of Karon’s burn. The moments ticked on, but Eli didn’t break his silence. Finally, Benehime sighed in his ear.

I’ll be waiting, she whispered, her hands pulling back through her cut in the world. And unlike Banage, who wants you to be something you’re not, or Miranda, who just wants you to disappear, or even Josef, who wants you to save his kingdom, all I ask, all I’ve ever wanted, is your love. Come home, Eliton. Let me help you. Love me again as I love you and I’ll give you everything—your lava spirit, your friends’ lives, safety for this land, everything.

Eli closed his eyes as the Lady’s presence began to fade.

When you’re ready, love, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here for you.

The words echoed in the fog, and then the Lady was gone. Eli closed his eyes as her pressure vanished, clutching his fingers against Karon’s burn.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’ll find another way to save you. But you know I can’t go back.” He felt the water on his cheeks before he realized he was crying. He scrubbed his eyes fiercely and tried to look away, but everywhere he looked, he saw the ravages of war. The dead were little more than shadows in the fog, but he felt them just as he heard the terrified whispers of the spirits all around him, the moaning fear of the winds above, and though he knew it was his imagination, Eli could almost taste the reproach in their voices.

Eli bowed his head. “I’m sorry this is happening,” he said, rubbing his eyes on his sleeves. “I’m sorry I let this happen. I’m letting everybody down. It’s my fault.”

And it was. It was his fault. His fault for thinking Benehime would actually be above starting a war over her stupid obsession. His fault for letting it continue. He could stop it right now. One more lie, that’s all it would take. But…

“I’m sorry,” he said, choking on the words. “I can’t go back to her. I’m so sorry, so, so sorry, but I can’t. I can’t.”

The sob shook him this time, and Eli clenched as his burned chest seized. Despite the motion, Karon didn’t move. Eli swore under his breath and let gravity slide him down the cliff and toward the cold, wet stone, curling into a ball on his side as the mist swallowed him whole.