Terry Simpson - The Shadowbearer

“Impossible,” Stefan whispered. The possibility of a Dagodin using a divya to Forge Mater in this fashion would change the scope of every war.

“Normally, I would agree,” Galiana said with a slight nod, “but I’m inclined to believe the Chronicles.” She held out the sword to him.

Gingerly, he took the weapon, turning the scabbard in his hands. The leather was of simple yet intricate craftsmanship. Nothing stood out at first, but upon closer inspection, he could not discern where one part of the material joined with the other. The pieces appeared seamless. He unsheathed the sword. Lamplight glittered off the blade’s edge. He was willing to bet the sword would cut metal if he tried. Runes and glyphs ran up and down the flat of the blade. A tingling sensation crept up his arm and through the rest of his body. He held the weapon out before him and frowned. The sword felt as if he’d wielded the thing for years, one with his arm, like an old lover’s tender caress.

“One other thing about this,” Galiana said.

“Hmm?”

“It is said to be able to warn you if a shadeling is close.”

Mouth dropping open, Stefan was at a loss for words. A weapon able to identify shadelings? A hand stroking his chin, he shook his head as he considered the sword. No wonder the Tribunal had kept such a thing hidden deep within the Iluminus. How many of these did they possess?

“I can see your mind work, Stefan,” Galiana said. “I checked myself. The Tribunal’s Imbuers attempted to duplicate this for nearly two hundred years. Every one of them failed. This is the only divya of its kind.”

“Makes sense then. They would have conquered the rest of the world long ago if they had more.” He sheathed the sword, unclipped his own weapon from his sword belt, and attached the new one. The scabbard felt as if it belonged. “How did you manage to escape with this anyway?”

Galiana smiled mischievously. “I Forged a construct that was an exact duplicate. By the time they realized, I was long gone.”

A sudden thought struck Stefan. “Why do you think this was meant for me?”

“Part of the passage concerning the weapon … it said:

‘When the Setian once again become an empire,

A King shall be blinded by memory lost and desire

To wield the power the gods wrought

He shall sow chaos as his lot

Under the influence and with armies of shade,

Man and child sacrificed for the way laid

Mater feeds life, Darkness descends,

Ever encroaching until the light transcends,

Wielded by a warrior from the line of thorns

The first part of the Aegis will see their ancient line reborn.’

One eyebrow arched, Stefan asked, “That refers to me how?”

“One from the line of thorns,” Galiana explained. “In ancient Seti, your name Dorn means thorn. Your lineage is what the passage speaks of. This sword belongs to the Dorns. Supposedly, only one of you can harness the power residing within it. Coupled with your triumph over the Astocans when the King officially declared Seti to now be an empire, and considering his plans, the conclusion seemed obvious.”

“But you also suggested he will turn to the shade,” Stefan said. “That, I cannot believe.”

Shin Galiana shrugged. “I would not believe he would try to tap into the Forging used to create The Great Divide either, but that is his intention. No one can tell what will happen then. The power in the Divide is as unfathomable and unstable as anything I have ever witnessed.”

“Maybe he knows something you don’t? That none of us do?” Thania said, lips pursed.

“Possible,” Galiana said, “which is why I wonder about the mention of the sword being the first part of the Aegis. If he found out what the Aegis is, that would explain some of his interest in The Chronicles.”

“What is this Aegis?” Stefan asked.

“The Chronicles refer to it very vaguely. It is some type of weapon or power strong enough to defend against or to protect the gods.”

“You seem to suggest they’ll escape the Nether somehow or if they did, would need protection.” Stefan smirked as he touched the sword. “They’re gods. This is simple silversteel.”

“Why the gods would need protection is beyond any of us, my dear,” Thania said.

“Are you certain he isn’t aware of this?” Stefan touched the new weapon’s hilt.

“Unless he can get someone into the heart and soul of the Iluminus past several dozen High Ashishin, Raijin and worse, then, no.”

Stefan whistled. “They moved the Chronicles into the Halls of the Exalted?”

“Indeed,” Galiana replied.

“So, until we find out how to use the sword, what do I do?” Stefan regarded Anton and Celina even now doubting the decision he was being led to make.

“Nerian is willing to give you a year to spend with your family before he begins his campaign,” Galiana said. “He will use the time to recruit. I will translate the other parts of the Chronicles I have copied by then.”

Stefan paced across the room. “I don’t know. If all this is true, if Nerian is threatening my family, if he is now a lunatic like you say ….” He shook his head. “Pretending to side with him, hiding my feelings might be beyond me.” Every fiber of his being told him to take his family and flee, but he also knew he could no such thing without guaranteed safety. Not to mention his men to whom he’d promised peace and a prosperous future. If this was all true, the lives of many rested on his shoulders. He stopped. What if Galiana is lying and this is some Tribunal plot? What if it isn’t? Stefan squeezed his eyes shut.

“My dear heart, I don’t think you will need to hide how you feel,” Thania said. “For this to work, for you to keep us safe, you must let Nerian see your anger. Let him be aware of how this situation fuels you. Only then will he believe you’re sincere in aiding him in this endeavor. Anything less and he will be suspicious. Not only will he not let you close to him then, but he may take us anyway.”

Stefan stared tenderly at his children, gritting his teeth against hopelessness. “What if he decides to take you all regardless of what I do?”

“Until now Nerian has followed the teachings of the Disciplines more closely than anyone,” Galiana said, “including you.”

“‘Demand honor but first show righteousness,’” Stefan quoted, temper flaring. “His recent actions violate the third Discipline.”

“Unless he thinks what he’s doing is righteous,” Thania countered.

Stefan bristled at his wife’s words.

She shrugged. “There’s no distinction to determine exactly what’s righteous.”

He looked to Galiana for support but the wry smile on her face told whose side she supported. “Fine,” he said grudgingly. They were correct. Some of the Disciplines were left open to their moral interpretation. This allowed some freedom in the decision-making process for any leader who followed them. One thing became evident over the passage of years. A leader who followed them developed a strong belief from his men that led to victories skill alone could not achieve His own Unvanquished were living proof. Following this line of thought, Nerian would allow him to lead because the men fought with a fervor for Stefan they might not have for their King.

“One year.” Stefan sighed, and then peered longingly toward Anton and Celina.

Self-sacrifice is often the greatest motivator for man and nation. Another of the Disciplines . He would treasure the time he had left with his children; it could be his last. When Perta entered moments later with a flagon of his wife’s kinai wine, Stefan barely noticed the taste.