Will Wight - Of Dawn and Darkness

He gathered himself before addressing the Consultants again. He’d lost his place, so he simply made it up. “…where representatives of loyal Guilds will gather to determine your treatment.” That sounded appropriately vague, if not as friendly as he’d intended. Shuffles’ appearance had tainted his mood. “I can say that, if you cooperate, we would be delighted to have an organization with your expertise on the side of the Empire. We only wish for humankind to stand united, as the Elders wish to consume us all—”

He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it.

“CONSUME US ALL!” Shuffles declared, even as Andel chased it across the bridge.

“Andel, Foster, I’m shoving something into a cage as soon as this is over. I’d rather it be Shuffles.”

After another moment to clear his mind, he picked up the captain’s horn again. “I assure you, we have only your best interests at heart.”

“BEST INTERESTS,” Shuffles said with a laugh, making it sound like the threatening declaration of a demented murderer. Calder gave up, tossing the horn to the deck. If the Consultants didn’t get the point by now, they never would.

For a few seconds they didn’t respond, and Calder wondered if they might not have a captain’s horn of their own. He was planning on moving closer before a cloud of mist exploded into being around the enemy ship.

Bastion’s Veil. Only instead of surrounding the Consultant’s island, it shrouded their vessel, rapidly expanding into a solid bank of fog. Calder stared into the cloud, anger and hopelessness warring within him.

They’d gotten away.

Even now, Cheska was organizing a search, shouting her orders to the other Navigators, but he knew they wouldn’t catch up. The majority of the remaining Consultants were aboard that ship, not counting the thousands of Guild members on assignment all over the world. They’d taken Consultant headquarters away, but what had they really gained?

He slumped down to the deck, leaning his back against the wheel, and closed his eyes.

Someone sat down next to him.

He looked over to see Bliss staring at him from two inches away. “In pets, sudden listlessness and lack of energy can indicate that they are sick,” she said.

“I’m not an animal.”

“Then you’re distressed.” She reached into her coat and pulled out a folded-up blanket. It was big enough that it should have made a noticeable bulge in her coat, leading him to wonder irrationally if she’d created it out of nothing. She reached around him, tucking the blanket over his shoulders.

There was nothing wrong with him that a blanket could possibly solve, but it was nice to have someone worry about him for once. He leaned his head back, looking into the sky. “Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

She joined him in looking up, even as all around him the Navigators searched frantically for the vanishing ship.

“The crack in the sky,” he said suddenly. “What is it really?”

Bliss pondered for a moment. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky. What we’re seeing is a rift, such as the Elders use for transportation to and from the void. It is simply very high above us.”

For Bliss, that was a surprisingly coherent answer. He decided to push a little further. “What’s on the other side?”

“Popular belief says it’s where the Elders come from. That’s likely to be true. We can verify that most of the Great Elders use the void for transportation and communication.”

Calder digested that, but Bliss wasn’t through. “You’ve seen Ach’magut’s library, haven’t you?”

He would very much like to know where she’d heard that, but there was no point in lying now. “Yes.”

“While Ach’magut was dead, we liberated our share of books from that library. Stole. Liberated. Liberated or stole? Either way, once we’d decoded the languages, we learned a few relevant facts. First, ours is not the only world out there.”

“I know that, Bliss,” Calder said. “My tutors showed me the planets through a telescope.”

“I didn’t say planets,” she said. “And don’t interrupt. Each Elder pursues something, and they move from world to world through the void in pursuit of it. Ach’magut pursues knowledge. Nakothi pursues the perfect balance of life and death. Urg’naut pursues absolute nothingness. Tharlos…” she paused to push down on her coat, “…pursues change. But wherever they go, they work apart. Against humanity, but neither with nor against one another. As we understand it, it was very rare for one Great Elder to ever encounter another.”

“Then how did we end up with seven ?”

“That part of the books is very clear,” Bliss said softly. He found that he couldn’t tell what color her eyes were, besides ‘pale.’ “They were lured here. Lured and trapped. For untold thousands of years, the Great Elders have bickered and jockeyed with one another, but in the end they all have the same goal. To be free of this prison.”

Calder looked into the cracked sky. If that were true, all they would have to do is hold the door open, and all the Great Elders would leave. It sounded too good to be true.

But one detail stood out, and he had to ask the question. “They’re trapped here…then who trapped them?”

Bliss sighed. “That,” she said, “is a very good question.”

Only four weeks after their encounter with the Great Elder, The Testament arrived at the Capital. Either luck or the foresight of Ach’magut had been with them, because they’d sailed straight through the center of the Aion Sea with no more trouble than a vanishing island and a stray wormcloud. Not even the most optimistic Navigator would promise a trip from Aurelia to Izyria in one month, but they’d done it.

They were still miles away from the Capital when Calder saw that something was wrong. Ships, Navigator and otherwise, fled from the direction of the mainland like startled birds. Some of them were on fire. A few headed back toward the Capital, but it was a trickle compared to a flood. And not one of them responded to Calder’s request for information.

The Capital was so vast that it practically swallowed the coastline; once land was in sight, everything Calder could see stretching north and south was all part of the city. And all of it hung under a cloud of smoke, as though every chimney everywhere had started belching non-stop. Over the water drifted a constant sound that Calder only identified when they got closer: bells. Hundreds if not thousands of bells, all ringing in constant chaos.

The Testament was even closer before they could see the third sign of disaster. The red flags, bearing their moon-in-sun Imperial Seal, had all been defiled. A legion of Imperial flags always flapped above the Capital, ranging in size from those no bigger than a hand to the ones over the palace, which were broader than The Testament ’s sails.

All of them had been scarred with a new addition: a thick black line slashing diagonally down the middle.

Calder’s eyes turned to Andel.

The former Pilgrim removed his hat once more, staring at the shoreline. He pressed the hat over his heart, one final gesture of respect.

“What will it be, Andel?” Calder asked quietly. He couldn’t deny a trembling of his own heart; as much as he’d hoped for this, the Emperor had always seemed constant. Eternal. Even when he’d finally believed that the Emperor would die, there was a difference between knowing it and seeing the evidence.

Andel shook his head. “I’m still trying to make excuses. Maybe the Capital came under attack, maybe there was a rebellion, maybe this is some game by the Elders and we’re still back in Silverreach. But I’m neither a fool nor a coward. I know the Emperor is dead, may his soul fly free.”