Sam Bowring - Soul's Reckoning

Above the fort was an extension of the Cloud that had crept out of Fenvarrow, proof of Losara’s success on the ground. Away over lands he did not yet control, other clouds gathered – natural clouds that came and went, emptying and re-forming, unlike this one, which was crafted and maintained by magic. It made him wonder if the Fenvarrow way was somehow against nature, forcing this coverage of the land. And yet there was light in Fenvarrow too, for shadow needed it to exist.

‘What will happen if Arkus is defeated?’ he wondered aloud. ‘Will there be no more light, no more sun? And what if Assedrynn falls – will all shadow fade away, everything left stark and bare?’

By his side Lalenda smiled faintly. ‘No, my lord,’ she said. ‘I have read enough during my days in the library to know that Arkus is not the sun, nor is Assedrynn shadow. They are the gods of these things, and draw their power from them, but the things came first.’

Losara frowned. ‘Then where did the gods come from?

‘It is not known,’ said Lalenda. ‘Only that they are the givers of life, our souls grown from their Wells. Maybe there was an original creator, who created them also. Maybe they came from somewhere else, found our world empty and made it their own. Or maybe Arkus was born of the sun, Assedrynn from the shadows, scions of the forces they represent.’

Losara folded his arms. These were daunting questions, and he did not feel there were any answers to be found in pondering them.

‘Perhaps there is no answer,’ said Lalenda. ‘Perhaps the gods just are , like trees and clouds and wind and sea. A part of the world, like any other.’

‘Except the wind,’ said Losara, looking up at the Cloud he had brought here, ‘does not ask me to kill thousands on its behalf.’

•

She reached up to Losara’s neck, to trace his skin with the very tip of a claw. Breaking the uppermost layer, she left behind the slightest furrowed line. Grinning, she signed it into an ‘L’. He did not seem to notice, for he had already drifted back into that deep place where he spent so much of his time, lost in strange thought. At any rate, as soon as he turned to shadow and back again, he would be unmarked once more.

Below, the mages burying the dead paused warily as the shadowmander moved amongst them. It poked at the ground where a body had just gone down, but the spark of light in the soldier’s soul that had once attracted it was gone. Lalenda was glad indeed for the creature’s existence – if it could turn the tide of battle in their favour, there would be no need for the other idea that Losara hesitantly entertained, the idea that had driven him to go to Bel, to travel with him and learn about him. He had not spoken about it much since, and she hoped that meant he had given it up, and did not simply withhold his thoughts because they upset her.

Then her eyes misted. Her hand fell from Losara’s neck, her knees turning to water. She collapsed, powerless to stop it, but did not feel herself reach the ground, as her mind was taken over by a vision.

She was standing somewhere …she wasn’t sure where. There were things around, maybe trees, but they were blurry, faded into a background mess of other indistinct objects, maybe people. Someone was holding her hand, but he was indistinct too, phasing and shifting as if his body could not settle on a permanent form. There was blue around his head, though it, too, took no definite shape. Something seemed to be tugging at him from his other side, and she leaned out to peer across his chest. There, holding the man’s other hand, the only clear being in the entire picture, was a lithe woman with long ringlets of red hair, her nose studded with a tiny emerald, her eyes green–gold. Although Lalenda had never seen her before, she knew that this was Bel’s lover, Jaya – and she was trying to pull away the man who stood between them.

The world came crashing back in. Lalenda blinked, finding herself staring up at the Clouded sky. Losara was kneeling by her, his shadowy hand on her brow, looking concerned. Relief took over his expression as he saw she was conscious.

‘A prophecy?’ he asked.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows, brushing away his hand angrily.

‘What is it?’ he said.

‘I saw …’ What, precisely, had she seen? She wasn’t sure. And, for the first time, the prophecy itself had not seemed entirely sure either. Yet she knew what she feared.

‘I thought you had discounted that notion,’ she said.

‘What notion?’ he answered, but a moment later his face betrayed that he knew exactly what she spoke about. ‘Ah,’ he went on, admission in his tone. ‘I never said I’d discounted it, only that I hoped it would not come to that – that I could win in other ways, perhaps with the shadowmander. But if it comes down to it, as a last resort …I fear the gamble absolutely, but …’

‘Or maybe Bel succeeds,’ she said quietly.

His void-like eyes seemed to bore into her heart. ‘Lalenda,’ he said, ‘please …tell me exactly what you saw.’

•

The moon, high above, did little to breach the Cloud. They had not brought any dark ice with them, but a few lanterns from the fort had been lit. Losara felt uneasy about using Kainordan fire, as if it was some kind of hypocrisy. They did not need much, however, only slight illumination, to make organising a little easier.

His mages gathered on the plain south of the fort, hopefully away from the eyes of any Kainordans watching. Standing somewhat apart from them was Tyrellan, and every now and then the mander slunk out of the night to return to him, as if checking on its anchor to the world. A group of goblins and men, ordinary soldiers who had followed the mages to the fort after it had been taken, also waited. All were silent, as ordered, even in their minds. Only Losara and Roma conversed, in whispers, just outside the open gate to Holdwith.

‘Is everyone here?’ said Losara.

‘Yes, lord,’ replied Roma. ‘The fort is empty.’

‘Very well, then. Let us move.’

Roma held up a hand and blue energy coursed over his fingers. He waited until certain that all had seen it, then used it to point southwards. In response a thousand pairs of feet began to walk in that direction, their pace as yet unaided by magic. Losara could not risk the outpouring of power required to move so many at great speed, lest they be sensed by the light mages nearby. Some distance would have to be put down first, keeping the fort between them and the enemy.

Losara wondered if the offshoot of the Cloud would remain after they departed, leaving not a single shadow soul in Holdwith. Certainly it would disappear if the light took the fort back. They were welcome to the place – it was no longer much more than a broken shell, battered by magic and dragon fire. If Kainordas wanted to expend valuable soldiers and resources repopulating it when Losara had no desire to return anytime soon, that was something he had no issue with.

Air moved as Grimra wafted past, the ghost’s low growl a familiar heralding for Lalenda these days. She arrived by Losara’s side a moment later, and allowed him to take her hand, for which he was glad. She had been strange with him ever since her vision, angry and quiet. He understood, to a degree – what she had seen was disturbing, and he shared her trepidation over whether it would come to be, and how. An indication of him resorting to his back-up plan? Or of Bel succeeding in drawing him in, using the Stone to turn him into nothing more than the odd thought here and there?

After an hour or so of walking in silence, Losara judged that they were far enough from the fort to use magic without being sensed. Hold , he sent out, and all drew to a stop. We head west , he continued, with all possible haste.