At first wink of dawn, by the light of a lilac sky, the Imperial company set out from Taeladran. Thankfully, the group did not encounter any rannakim on the way back. In fact, they barely encountered anything at all beyond the barren rocks and sparse desert-plants, which made the return trip particularly bland. Still, it was at least conducive for sombre reflection.
Asphales trotted along on his horse, accompanied by four others. Downcast and downhearted were they all. Though the day ahead was bright and clear, and the rising sun threw back the eastern mountain-teeth’s shadows, a gloom hung around the company and words were little spoken.
With Lord Elan dead, and his murderer also silenced, the decision had been made to return. They had left the city in failure and embarrassment. For not only did they have to contend with the shortcutting of the mission, but also with Darius’ perplexing actions. Asphales glanced over at the Amarant on his black steed. The man’s face was unreadable.
Kasil had taken over the captainship and effective leadership of the city. Though he assured Darius that a thorough review of the city guard would be undertaken and relations with Fara’ethar would remain friendly, he had been forced to compel the Empire’s representatives to leave. Asphales wondered how much longer he would have stayed and how much more he could have learned. Just when he had felt a glimmer of hope against the dark, it seemed the shadow’s servants were a step ahead. The one who had sparked that hope was now buried beneath a cairn topped with a sapphire cenotaph.
As the day turned and the company cleared the dry and narrow passes between Taeladran’s lowlands and the rolling fields leading to Fara’ethar, Asphales found the tide of his thoughts drifting to Adélia. He tried to understand. She was homesick for a home she could not return to. He had to admit, he was not too fond of his own home, but to be so ripped away from nourishment was surely worse. And to carry such a burden, a blackness whose grip she could not slip, was something he could not imagine.
And so his thoughts swirled, from Adélia’s revelations, to Darius’ fierce and sudden action. And all throughout, the Elder’s final words swept through him like a small wind which nudged from within. He tried to hold on to the fact that, somehow, Eltanin had desired this, but it was little consolation in his absence.
It took a while for Asphales to notice that he could no longer hear all the other mounts’ trotting steps behind him. He had gone on as his shadow lengthened and a perfect, golden evening settled on sky and land alike. Someone caught up to him.
‘Lad, we’re about to stop for a break.’ Amarant Darius’ voice.
Asphales reined in his steed and looked back. The setting sun’s light could not brighten the darkness settled on the Amarant’s face.
‘I know we want to speed on to Fara’ethar, and last time we went through here, our stay was not exactly pleasant. But El’enur’s found a nook up near those hills and we’ll be safe for the night.’
That was not Asphales’ concern.
Darius sighed. ‘I get the feeling there is something you wish to ask me. Speak your mind.’
‘Why did you do that?’ Asphales asked. ‘Isn’t there always a better option? There has to be…’ He trailed off, but there was no point hiding his candid query.
Darius brought his horse closer, beside Asphales. He watched the sunset for a while without speaking.
‘I admire your purity, Asphales,’ he said. ‘Perhaps there was, perhaps I could not see it. Still, our time is short and the situation dire. I realised only something drastic would bring the Order to attention. That’s what I intended by my actions. Sometimes, one has to do what must be done, so others can do what should be done.’
Asphales started. ‘But—’
‘This is not to justify what I did. It is my judgment that I carried out what was necessary, but that may be flawed. I don’t say this to seek excuse, only to explain the thoughts of an imperfect man who felt compelled to act. A man who will face his due consequence.’
It pained Asphales to hear such tortured thoughts, but it did not dull the callous nature of the warrior’s actions. He thought of the prisoner in his cell, guilty though he was, felled by a wicked blade in dread and darkness.
‘I can only hope,’ Asphales began, ‘that I can find another way.’
Darius smiled. ‘You are a trustworthy man. I pray such a way unveils itself to you. I feel yet we are in good hands. For Lady Catena has even bestowed her true name upon you.’
Asphales shifted on his mount but did not know what to say.
‘I noticed, lad. Up on Taeladran’s mountain, you called her name. Something that precious could not have been easily taken nor lightly given.’
Asphales caught the Amarant’s turquoise eyes, sharp as ice but not with harm intended for him.
‘I cannot say I understand the bond between you fully. But it is a rare and wondrous thing, another thread I hold to tightly, knowing you two can be better. I stand fully behind you both.’
‘Thank you,’ Asphales said.
At once, Darius’ horse snorted.
‘That’s a sure signal,’ Darius said, chuckling. ‘Masìlminur has had enough, and I dare say, so have you.’
‘You’ve given me a lot to think about,’ Asphales said.
Darius clapped the younger man’s shoulder. ‘Well, come think on it with the others. Let’s make camp.’
‘How did you come to know so much, to know where you stand?’
Darius turned his mount around. ‘Asphales, a head full of wisdom is borne by a heart full of mistakes. It is for men like you that monsters like me hope their mistakes carve a path.’
The Amarant made for shelter. The black blade on his back hung heavy and drear.
The group rode out early the next day. They awoke to a chill Kingsdell morning’s bite. Morale was low and so with as little chatter as the day before, they packed the camp and set out. As they breakfasted on the last of their provisions, it was odd not to hear a quip from El’enur, or compensatory laughter from the others. Asphales strapped on his armour. The metal gauntlets were cold to the touch.
They rode faster this day. With a lowering moon at their back, the Imperial company sped on over hillocks and onto the familiar fields pocked with blackened earth. From the end of the Scarred Fields, they beheld Fara’ethar in the distance and Asphales could tell ease began settling over the group.
It was there, some leagues ahead of them. A crown upon a cliff. The rising sun shone onto the ocean beyond and Fara’ethar glinted as if with the sparkle of jewels. Asphales had not spent long at the castle, but already it felt like coming home.
Barely a watch of hard riding later and the company were galloping in toward the Lion Gate to the salute of armed men along the path. The mid-day sun stood watching, far above.
‘Open the gate,’ Darius called. ‘Our coming is grave!’
Had it not been marred by the sorrow which seemed to be on their trail, Asphales would have gladly anticipated this return. Though the sight of castle’s grey stone and lively alleys brought some relief, it was not in triumph that Asphales entered the castle. His heart felt heavier than the gate which scraped open.
Darius charged in like an invader, then wheeled his steed around and hopped off. He summoned a nearby attendant. ‘See to the horses, please,’ he said. Then he turned to the others, who were still dismounting. ‘I go to see Amaleron,’ he said. ‘Be ready for summons, all of you.’
‘I shall look for the company from Sanaros and advise them the same,’ said Adélia. She took off in a different direction.
‘I shall pretend to be useful,’ El’enur said, more to himself, as he struggled with the stirrups. His dismounting was significantly less dignified than the two Amarants’ had been.
Asphales and Valinos came off their horses as well and handed the reins to Darius’ appointed man. The attendant called for others and together, they led the company’s mounts toward the stable. They were left with El’enur in the middle of the courtyard, looking quite idle, as the castle’s residents went about their tasks, some throwing hurried glances at the new arrivals. The archer was huffing and fiddling with his equipment.
‘You get used to this,’ he said. ‘The Amarants running off like that, looking all important, and you’re left with the luggage.’
‘El’enur, I never thanked you properly,’ Asphales said.
‘A moment, Asphales,’ El’enur said, rubbing at his legs. ‘I need to find a seat that won’t move so much. My hind can only take so much battering.’
‘I’m not sure if you speak of yourself,’ Valinos said, ‘or of how our fortunes have been of late.’
‘The discerning man may see many things in the words of the wise El’enur,’ said El’enur as he sat on a stone bench in a patch of light.
The three laughed then, and it was as if the dark curtain was drawn back, just a little. Asphales thought of Eltanin’s encouragement to treasure the light moments, few as they may be.
‘I can’t imagine what would have happened if you had not shown up when you did on the balcony that night,’ Asphales said. ‘We would have been set back even farther. So, thank you.’
El’enur’s shoulders slumped. ‘I don’t feel like I deserve your gratitude. I did all I could, but, well…’ He closed his eyes and sighed. ‘No, I suppose things could have been worse. Thank you, as well. I hope my actions were worth something. And at least we are now a fragment closer to the Elders’ song. Do you feel different, Asphales?’
Valinos turned to his friend.
‘I suppose I do,’ Asphales began. ‘I felt a welling of power that night and feel a lasting energy now.’ He drew his blade and inspected it. ‘I hope it is enough for what lies ahead.’
‘But will it be enough for that?’ Valinos asked as he turned and pointed to a figure approaching.
Asphales followed his friend’s hand and chuckled as he noted Ithilìr approaching. The master-servant walked calmly across the cobblestone courtyard, chin up and hands behind his back. Even from this distance, Asphales could tell the master-servant’s eyes had located them. He was dressed in impeccable black and stepped with formality. He seemed more master than servant as he walked over. Beside him, Asphales recognised Ishak, pacing to keep up. Both men carried themselves with an air of stateliness, but whereas Ithilìr’s features seemed stiff and rigid, the sub-commander’s were natural and inviting. Both men approached.
‘Brace yourselves,’ El’enur said, rising from his seat.
‘So, the rabble returns,’ Ithilìr said, halting in front of them. ‘Darius’ message relayed a grave coming, but you three seem anything but.’
‘I have missed you, Ithilìr,’ Asphales said.
‘And I wish you would still,’ the master-servant replied.
Asphales laughed. ‘How is my room?’
‘Cleaner than you had left it.’
‘That means you’re doing your job,’ El’enur offered.
Even Ishak snorted at that. He looked Asphales and Valinos over. ‘You two seem more worn-in, older,’ he said with a smile.
‘Wiser, too, one hopes,’ Ithilìr added.
‘Not you, El’enur,’ Ishak said, glancing over. ‘You look the same.’ His tone was playful.
‘Thank you,’ El said. ‘I will take that as a compliment to my perfection.’
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ Ithilìr said.
‘I wish it would,’ said Asphales. ‘What do you look like when you laugh?’
‘I believe he is unable to do so,’ Valinos said, joining in the jest, ‘for a statue must keep up appearances.’
Ithilìr did not react to these comments (which did not help to dispel the notion of him being a statue), but simply waited for the laughter to die down. ‘When you are done being foolish, there are matters to attend to in the castle. Now that you are returned from your galivanting, there are errands which need attention. And I expect you all to be involved.’
‘Let them rest, man!’ Ishak blurted. ‘Barely a watch back and you pounce on them like one drawn to a bad smell.’
El’enur gave the master-servant a deferential look then turned to Ishak. ‘Before we do that, I’d like to know if the others from Sanaros are back. Amarant Catena went off earlier to find them. Are they here?’
The brightness on Ishak’s face dimmed. ‘Yes, they are back. We sent Amarant Catena ahead to the Hall of Recovery.’
El’enur did not wait for an escort. The archer ran ahead, weaving through the courtyard traffic.
‘Are you lads coming?’ Ishak asked.
Asphales felt sick. The warriors of Fara’ethar were his companions now, and the thought of them being injured—or worse—for him and his quest was too much to bear.
He nodded.
* * *
Darius knelt in the Hall of the Elders. The steward was before him, framed by thirteen statues and the arches circling the hall like laurels of stone. His presence filled the massive chamber. His face, so sage and serene usually, was downcast. Both anger and sadness were struggling for dominance on his creased and sweating brow.
Darius felt like one awaiting a sentence. He had recounted the events in Taeladran, including the treachery of the guard captain and his own retaliation. Quiet now permeated the blue-grey light of the chamber, as Amaleron considered things.
‘Heavy is the doom lain upon us,’ Amaleron said. He paced the stone dais before the castle’s empty throne. ‘Eltanin, O Eltanin, how bright your star shone ere its sudden fall.’ The steward was more speaking to himself. The light in his staff flared as it clacked along the dais.
‘And so,’ he continued, ‘another fragment of the Ode is sung. Will you recite it for me, Amarant Darius?’
Darius closed his eyes. He could see the words when he focused, etched there in the dark. He could see other images too; a crumpled figure in a dungeon, a blade barely sated. The Amarant chose not to focus on those. He repeated the words, not as powerful as they had been on the lips of the dying Elder, but resonating nonetheless throughout the hall.
The steward nodded. Solemnity washed over his face. ‘The boy is not ready, and Amarant Catena suffers. Yet, we will trust in the design of Regulus.’ Amaleron’s words resounded in the chamber and he gazed up at the statue of Regulus, captured regal and ageless in the aged stone. No immediate answer or assurance came.
‘What now?’ Darius asked.
‘We have learned a little from the division sent to Sanaros,’ the steward said. ‘We believe we have a new target. A direction, at least. A decisive push may be upon us, on to the Dragon’s Eye. We shall convene shortly to arrange the necessary preparations.’
‘My companions,’ Darius said, ‘what befell them in Sanaros?’
The steward’s eyes turned kindly. He bid the Amarant rise. ‘You must see them yourself, Darius. They encountered trouble, and the information came at a cost.’
Something within Darius throbbed. He clenched his fists, thinking of the dangers of Sanaros.
‘Now,’ the steward said, turning to Darius. ‘In the matter of your involvement at Taeladran.’
‘It is as you have heard. But I stress I acted alone in what I did. Spare the others in your judgment.’
‘I understand your actions but I cannot condone them. In this present crisis, you continue to be a valuable asset, I cannot deny that, Darius. Nevertheless, I must request that after this next assignment you step down from your position. Your status as Amarant shall be rescinded.’
Amaleron’s words echoed like a distant thunderclap. So this was it. The hammer had fallen.
Darius bowed.
‘That is only fair compensation for my chosen course,’ he said. ‘I ask merely that I choose my successors.’
The steward’s amber eyes were gentle and warm. Gentle as the day he had found them when the Empire rescued him like a lost pup. Filled with warmth such as he had not experienced in Kerena.
‘It shall be so,’ the steward said.
Darius Inidirōn walked out of the Hall of the Elders with a lighter load on his shoulders. His days as an Amarant were coming to an end. And though the circumstances of his exit were not entirely commendable, he could leave better men in his stead. This age belonged now to the younger, the unstained.
It also meant he could put some distance between himself and those he cared about when the fire rose to devour. For that day would come.
For now, his life and assistance would still be given to the Empire, to his friends. Though the title may be taken from him, his oath of protection would not be nullified. So on he walked, head held high.
The sun was westering as he reached the entrance to the Hall of Recovery and entered its cool shadows. Inside, lit torches in their sconces illuminated sea-green tiles leading to a dark, oakwood desk. Attendants quietly walked about, leafing through ledgers and reports before disappearing in the hallways beyond. Aromatic plants were laid about the foyer to disguise the smell of the sick and the bizarre scents of the remedies used within.
At the counter, Darius inquired after Guldar Kene’dorn and was directed to an eastern hallway. That is, after confirming his identity, leaving Blackfrost under their supervision, and filling out the appropriate paperwork, of course. Darius would certainly not miss these administrative trappings in his retirement.
Bursting through a set of double-doors, Darius emerged into a waiting room lined with white walls and white benches. The others had already arrived. He noticed El’enur first, pacing the room, looking frazzled. The archer’s eyes lit up for a moment when the doors opened, but it was clearly not Darius he had been waiting for. On a bench beside him, Amarant Catena sat with Asphales and Valinos close by. The three were speaking quietly. She appeared more at ease, more connected.
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Asphales seemed worried. If he had been allowed weapons in here, he surely would have been fidgeting with his new blade. Valinos was harder to read. Calm, but clearly occupied with his own thoughts, he looked over when Darius came in and gave a quick nod of acknowledgment.
In the whitewashed light, the company’s colours were accented. Though they were tired, the Amarant’s scarlet hair, Asphales’ brown locks, and the darker shades which covered most of Valinos’ appearance looked all the more pronounced on them. Then there was El’enur; golden-haired, navy-cloaked, and restless with impatient energy.
‘Commander,’ he called out. ‘Glad you could make it. But not much has happened. We’ve been waiting to see them as well.’
Just as he spoke, another door clicked open. A woman with her midnight-black hair swept by swirls of ocean blue walked in. Lady Nelesa gasped when she saw the gathering in the waiting room.
The archer practically skipped over to her.
‘El! You lived!’ She ran to him and threw herself in his embrace. ‘See, riding a horse was not so bad.’ Darius was sure only El’enur was deaf to the affection in her voice.
‘Speak for yourself!’ he said. ‘What happened?’
The others stood up and looked on expectantly. Nelesa drew back from the archer’s arms and glanced around at them, and then pursed her lips. ‘Follow me,’ she said.
Turning back the way she had come, she led the group through a well-lit hallway lined with wooden doors. Passing through another double-doored barrier, Nelesa took them outdoors along a tiled passageway down the hall’s courtyard. The heart of the Hall of Recovery was a rectangular garden, open to the sky, sheltered by the building’s walls all around. Flowerbeds and trees grew in areas marked by stones, and a fountain or a stream could even be heard among the foliage. Higher up the two-storeyed walls which encircled the garden, windows looked into chambers where patients were tended and waited for healing. An array of wild birds provided music to the recovering.
Nelesa hurried to a door on the first floor, not far from where the garden took its first corner. She approached an attendant waiting by under an awning and spoke in a lowered voice. The attendant nodded, gave the approaching group a look, and then admitted them inside.
El’enur, Darius, Lady Catena, Asphales, and Valinos all filed in, with Lady Nelesa following last of all and shutting the door. She signalled her thanks to the woman outside.
The chamber was larger than the windows had suggested, with several beds laid out in order against a light, aspen-planked wall. Discrete panels acting as dividers separated each bed so their occupants could rest privately. Streaming light from a window fell on to a hulking, bandaged man. Guldar’s dark complexion and bright eyes stood out, and he flashed a smile of recognition as Darius walked in.
‘Hah, this is not how I would’ve liked to be found by my commander.’
Darius returned the smile, but was bit by the truth that shortly, he would no longer be his friend’s leader. His thoughts, however, were soon lost in the flurry of greetings and the excitement that reconnection brings. Lady Catena was led to a bed where Lady Leara rested. The navy sub-commander’s usually rich, black curls were hidden under bandages, and she bore clear bruises. Across the room, Asphales and Valinos were hailed by Amarant Nadros, who shifted in his blanket with some difficulty. And even El’enur was visibly relieved to see Guldar alive and well. As well as he could be, at least, albeit sporting new wounds.
‘You look hale, my friend,’ Darius said.
Guldar chuckled and fingered the wrappings near his forehead and on his forearms. ‘Just more scars to the add to the collection, that’s all. I’m lucky Innareth finds them attractive.’
‘I’ve always said you look good,’ El’enur teased.
‘Boy, you’re lucky I’m confined to this bed.’
El’enur flicked his hair and skipped around, as if to rub in the freedom he enjoyed. Guldar laughed.
‘Innareth was here not long ago. And now you. It’s like you all care, or something. But trust me, I got off easy compared to the old man over there.’
Guldar waved his head in the direction of Nadros’ bed. The old Amarant was chatting to the two young men, no doubt telling his story with some flourish.
Before he could head over, Lady Nelesa walked up to Darius and spoke quietly. ‘Lady Leara would like to speak with you.’
Darius left El’enur and Guldar to recount their own adventures and walked over to the bed in the far left of the chamber. Lady Catena stood by. Leara caught a glimpse of Darius and smiled.
‘Hello, you,’ she said.
Darius nodded. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Like I’ve drunk three bottles of a strong Kerenan brew and then someone did me the kindness of smashing those bottles over my head.’
Darius chuckled. ‘I wager you smashed four bottles over their heads in return.’
Leara closed her eyes and breathed in. ‘Nel tells me I did as much, but I can’t remember much of the time on the island.’
‘The medical masters say she’ll be fine, though!’ Nelesa cut in, trying to assuage Darius’ worry but sounding worried herself.
‘I am fine,’ Leara protested. ‘Only reason I’m still in here is so they can declare it all official after more observations. Don’t you worry, I’ll be back in action soon.’
‘I’m glad to hear that,’ Darius said. ‘But let them do their job, and rest well.’
He turned to leave.
‘You’re not carrying your sword,’ Leara noted. ‘We don’t often see you like this, commander. It… suits you.’
Darius nodded and headed toward Amarant Nadros. One day, I’ll put it down for good. I promise.
At the old man’s bed, Asphales and Valinos sat on stools, rapt listeners to the Amarant’s tale. Nadros cut off as Darius approached.
‘We had them,’ he said, his eyes finding Darius. ‘We nearly had them.’
‘What happened then?’ Asphales asked.
‘We had her cornered,’ Nadros continued. ‘By the ocean’s blackened bones, it was an actual member of the Order. But then a group of Kerenani pounced. She got away in the melee. And the bastards did this to me.’
The old man flicked the sheet covering his lower half, unveiling a bandaged stump where his right foot should have been. There were winces and gasps from those around the bed, but the old man almost seemed to relish in the effect.
‘Don’t worry, they didn’t take anything more vital, so my sailin’ days ain’t over yet. But I’ll be here awhile.’
‘These things have a way of coming back to bite,’ Guldar said from his bed. ‘The mercenaries who attacked us were led by that disrespectful rat you threw in the sea, Darius. He recognised me.’
Darius looked over his companions. All fatigued, many bruised and wounded. And even those who bore no scars surely carried unseen wounds of the mind and of the heart. He knew that their missions had not been in vain, and even the disastrous turn of events in Sanaros bore fruit, but this did not vindicate the road he had taken or make bearing his companions’ pain any easier.
‘I’m sorry,’ Darius began. ‘To all of you, for everything. Trouble seems to follow me, and it’s often those around me who pay the price.’
El’enur jumped to speak but Darius put up a hand.
‘No, let me apologise. And let me confess. You would’ve heard by now of what I did at Taeladran.’
There were silent nods around the room.
‘Whatever you think of that, all that matters is that it is done and, for better or worse, events are in motion because of the way I proceeded. I intend to see those events through. But, you need to know the steward has made up his mind, and I agree with him. I will remain for one more mission, and then I am to be dismissed.’
There was a collective cry, and almost everybody tried to speak at once.
‘Like hell you are,’ Leara said above the rest.
‘Please!’ Darius cried. ‘Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.’
The room hushed. Darius took in each person present in turn. Lady Nelesa was close to tears. Asphales and Valinos were ghost-faced. Guldar was frowning. This was not like disappointing an unreasonable and heartless parent. He knew that trust and respect would have to be earned afresh. But he would entrust himself to the love of others, for once.
‘I appreciate your concerns, but it is right for this to happen. I only ask for your forgiveness, my friends. I will still be with you, and will give all that I am. You are free to give only that which you are willing.’
‘I am with you,’ Amarant Nadros said, almost immediately.
‘I am with you,’ El’enur followed.
‘I’ve been with you through worse,’ Guldar said, ‘so don’t think this will keep me away.’
Each of the others followed with similar pledges. As they spoke, something within Darius moved, something which told of things beyond the winter of his heart and the flame of vengeance. Something he had not realised he’d known but had been enveloped by all this time. Undeserved, unearned companionship.
They spoke of lighter things after that, until a cobalt evening fell and Lady Nelesa suggested they let the wounded rest. Upon leaving the Hall of Recovery, an announcement came that there would be a delay to meetings until the opportune moment came. Given the state of both returning parties, Darius was sure all welcomed this.
Later, with no immediate duty to attend to, Darius found himself alone with his thoughts in the silence of a barracks chamber. The rest of the company had returned to their lodgings, though some were at Commons enjoying a well-deserved night off. He had finished oiling Blackfrost and seeing to its maintenance after the engagement with the rannak. The blade now rested on the wall, alongside many other weapons.
He was alone among the steel and stone.
And there, Darius wept.
* * *
There was still light in the sky when Valinos left the Hall of Recovery. Still time to do what he wanted. So far, there had barely been time to react before they were herded on from one thing to another. Valinos was sure Ithilìr would be hunting him and Asphales down to set them on some inconsequential chore right away.
Not this evening.
Once the others had said their goodbyes for the day, Valinos made his way to the Hall of Residence, carefully picking his way through the crowd. His eye was always out for a solemn, black-clad figure.
He made it to his room unpursued and set to stowing away his luggage. He bathed as quick as he could and changed from his travelling attire into something more suited for an evening out. Valinos smoothed the folds of a black doublet and threw on a fine cotton vest. Black, of course, but with hints of silver running through the deep fabric.
He left Anfrìr and Gulren with the rest of his battle gear. He would not need them. There was indeed more to him than angry focus and fighting. Valinos pocketed his winnings from the card game at Taeladran and, with a glance back at his weapons, shut the door.
Downstairs, he expected to see Asphales with dirty cloth in hand, polishing the counters or something, having already become a victim of Ithilìr’s plans. The fisherman-turned-warrior was present, indeed, but he was simply enjoying a meal. Before he was noticed, Valinos took one of the dishes set out along the benchtop and sat beside his friend. He dug into his food before even greeting him.
‘You’re eating with the speed of someone who’s about to shirk his chores,’ Asphales said.
Valinos shrugged, chugging down a chunk of meat. He hadn’t been giving much thought to what he was eating. ‘I’ll make it up to the master-servant another day,’ he said.
Asphales chuckled. He was savouring his meal at a much more proper rate. ‘He’s not that bad. I think he’s taken to us a bit, you know.’
‘Probably doesn’t know what to do with us. We are something of a curiosity, I wager.’
‘Well, here’s to being curious.’ Asphales raised a glass of drink utterly inappropriate for toasting.
Valinos shook his head and rose, cutlery clinking on his empty plate.
‘Where are you off to anyway?’ Asphales asked. ‘You’re looking remarkably well-dressed. The feast has done wonderful things to you, my friend.’
Valinos put down his napkin. ‘The sky awaits,’ he merely said.
He walked over to one of the servants who was busy behind the counter. ‘Excuse me,’ Valinos interrupted. ‘Where can I find the nearest trader?’
The man looked up from his task. His hair and moustache were prim, as if perfectly moulded to his face. ‘At this hour? Perhaps the stalls near the Hall of Records.’
‘Thank you,’ said Valinos. ‘If Ithilìr asks, I was not here.’ Valinos flicked a tiny gem over the counter. The servant caught the moonglint chip with a keen eye and nodded. The chip vanished in his breast pocket and the servant returned to his task as if nothing had occurred.
‘I’ll cover the evidence,’ Asphales called out. He made a move towards Valinos’ empty plate. If he expected a chip coming his way, he would be sorely disappointed.
Valinos signalled to Asphales and dashed out the door.
A quarter of a watch later, Valinos’ pockets jingled with coin. Eleven solid shelehi, in fact. As the bribed servant had indicated, Valinos had found an evening trader within the castle walls and exchanged most of his moonglint chips for more practical currency.
With minimal haggling, for the set of gems he had won Valinos received almost as much as one would give for a full complement of armour. He remembered selling his first set when working besides his… well, working with Paran, at least. That seemed a different life now. Here he stood now, forging a new path ahead.
With recollections playing in his mind, Valinos almost did not realise he was crossing the overpass leading to the tower of Birdswatch. The fresher breeze and open air alerted him as walls fell away and he was met with sheer sky and sea and land around him. He smiled and entered the tower.
He bounded up the mossy steps. He cherished the feeling when the closeness of the tower’s walls passed and opened into the freedom of the viewing platform. And he hoped that the one who had shown him this freedom would be there waiting. He wondered what he should say first, how he should surprise her.
He broke out onto the platform. Evening light filled the open space like a gentle flame.
There was no one to surprise at the top of the tower.
Valinos slowed as he looked around, one hand caressing the old, weather-beaten pillars. There was no person attending the tower this moment. Neither Hasel nor Fen’asel could be seen or heard around the platform. Even the dozens of small birds in their aviary were quiet this time.
At their roosts, the two smaller eagles were there, seemingly getting comfortable for the evening. Valinos could not quite remember their names, but he greeted them nonetheless as he passed.
And at the far end, perched on his throne against the sun like a king of the sky, Gidius stood. A majestic, breathing emblem. Valinos wondered why it was not the symbol of the eagle which decorated the banners of Fara’ethar. Gidius watched with sharp gaze, as if noticing all that happened in its domain.
The eagle was not why Valinos had come, but he supposed he would not throw away the chance to see the marvellous creature. He approached.
Gidius raised itself and opened its wings. The gust of wind blew Valinos back and he had to raise his arms and shield his eyes. The creature’s shadow overcame the space of the platform. It was not a threat, merely a reminder of who the true ruler of this place was. Even the other birds seemed reverential in their cages, as if bowing to their monarch.
Awed but undeterred, Valinos stepped forward more carefully. He kept his eyes on the eagle and approached, arms out and hands open.
I acknowledge you are king here and not I.
With this hierarchy established, Gidius folded its wings and lowered its head to meet the visitor. Valinos caught sight of the bone-like structure around the eagle’s head. Though he did not know what it was, he conceded it was truly fitting for such a regal creature.
He was only a few feet away now. He stared up at Gidius and took in the lustrous coat of the eagle’s feathers, the sheen of its beak. Gidius’ clawed feet shifted slightly as Valinos drew nearer. It watched him with deep-set eyes of true gold.
Valinos was entirely enveloped. He was face to face with the sky made manifest.
‘You are freest of all and bound to none,’ Valinos found himself saying.
He raised a hand, inches away from Gidius’ rich, brown plumage. All else melded away. There was only him and this eagle.
‘What can you see, I wonder, from your perch among the heavens?’
Finger touched feather. Shaking, Valinos stroked the creature. Once, and again. He ran his hand down. Gidius did not object. The bird felt soft and rich, like finest silk which draped a ruler. There was firmness also, and the heavy texture of one who had weathered much through the ages and battled with the wildness of the elements.
‘Would that you could show me what lies above our lands, beyond what our small minds and eyes can fathom.’
The eagle shifted. Valinos startled and took a step back. Gidius changed posture, facing out toward open land and lowering itself until its back was level with Valinos’ midsection. Was this… an invitation, an answer to Valinos’ wish? He was taken aback by the creature’s intelligence, even if slightly terrified by the prospect of what could happen here.
Surely not. Valinos exhaled. His heart raced. He looked around, fretting with indecision, and yet knowing his desire to seize this opportunity would win out. Spotting a length of cloth among some supplies, he grabbed it and tied it around the eagle’s neck. Gidius did not seem to mind the makeshift reins fastened around him.
Valinos hopped on. He felt the eagle’s musculature beneath him, the strength of its sinews and wings. This is folly beyond Asphales’ level, I’m sure. Yet even with that thought, he did not want to miss this. He did not turn back. Could he do this? How would he tell limits from lies if he did not take to the skies?
‘I’m ready.’
The eagle cawed and leapt into the wind’s embrace.
Valinos felt his stomach lurch as Gidius launched off the platform and dove. There was a rush of air. He held on to the reins, white-knuckled and unable to open his eyes. He could feel the sloshing of his hastily-ingested dinner.
Another violent jerk and Valinos was pushed right against the eagle’s neck. He heard a mighty flap and the feeling of falling subsided, blessedly. Valinos figured he must have screamed, for his throat was sore. He righted himself and took stock of where he was and what he sensed. His feet dangled, no solid ground beneath him. He could not feel his hands, but thanked them for not letting go during the dive.
And finally, he opened his eyes. It took a moment to adjust to the light and wind.
The initial stab of terror told him he was not dreaming, even though the view was certainly dream-like. From above, Anardes was composed of pastels of smeared colour. Unlike the static perspective from Birdswatch, here was Valinos racing, soaring, wheeling, tumbling over the land. Forests, hills, and towns, all sped beneath him in a blur. What people or animals could be seen were mere momentary specks as he flew on. Only the frames of mountains and the ever-wider canvas of the sea were constant.
Gidius flapped again and turned as they neared a cliff. Valinos found his balance and leaned into the eagle as it shifted beneath him. The wind resonated with each beat of the creature’s wings. He was stunned by the force making its way through the sky, cutting its own path through the gale.
This is it. This is what I have wanted.
As boy and bird swung around, Fara’ethar came into view. Even the majesty of the castle was minuscule from this vantage point. The tower of Birdswatch was a mere pebble in the distance.
‘Higher, Gidius. Let’s go higher.’
The eagle obeyed. It cried and the sound split the air around them. From three hundred feet, they rose higher. Four hundred feet. Five hundred. A thousand. At nearly two thousand, Valinos gave a signal and Gidius ceased its climb. The castle could still be made out, but everything else below was an indistinct streak.
It was an entirely different world up here. The air was colder. Valinos looked around at the palace of clouds slowly morphing around them. The light played with a multitude of silvers. Valinos had never before appreciated the varied colour of the sky. They seemed to be higher than the sunset, and it felt as if the daylight itself was within reach.
This was tranquillity. Undaunted by the heights, bitterness couldn’t climb here. Nothing could reach him and bring him down. Valinos whooped. No one may have heard the boy’s cry, but it was the most liberating sound he had ever made.
Looking higher still, Valinos saw the Sundered was there, nearer than ever. Almost attainable. Perhaps that threshold would wait for another time. This was enough daring for one day.
An almost-sound distracted him. A pulse, a thrum from somewhere rang in Valinos’ ears. He twisted around as Gidius flew on, trying to discern its origin. It seemed to come from the direction of the sea, calling from far beyond where waves ceased and an unnatural depression formed. The Scar, as it was called, that abyssal collapse in the ocean itself was there in the distance too, though from here it seemed a simple bruise against the wideness of the sea. Was that where this sensation was coming from?
Valinos could not be certain that it was not his mind playing tricks on him. Perhaps the air at this height or the churning in his stomach was confusing him.
‘Now, how do we get down?’ he mused aloud. ‘Gidius, can you descend gently?’
The eagle took to this petition and angled itself in a slow, circling descent towards the castle. Valinos marvelled that the creature listened to him. Yet he did not feel in control, merely at the whim of a benevolent superior. One to whom the constraints of gravity did not apply. Otherworldly, but somehow approachable.
Still, this was something, this apparent connection with Gidius. Fen’asel had not mentioned that anyone had ridden the eagle before. Some pride filled him, knowing that he was perhaps the first to do this, the first to be afforded the wonder of what he could see. Perhaps Valinos did not have innate impressive abilities, no latent stores of starlight to draw upon like Asphales. But this was different. And it was his own.
Look to the sky, Nathariel had said. That traitor held back of what he knew, Valinos was sure. He had been so close to the Order again, so close to potential answers. The chance had been snatched from him. But Nathariel had deserved his execution, had he not? Whatever others thought of Darius, that was action. Valinos questioned the justice of a system which punished one who dared to do what was right, even if it was extreme. His only regret was that he had not been able to extract more information before the fool died.
Perhaps it was the clear quality of the air, or the exhilaration of the flight, but something snapped into focus as Gidius bore him back toward the castle. He would not be blown about any longer; he would take charge of his own destiny. Valinos knew what he had to do.
The sky had turned violet when Gidius hovered near the platform. The descent had been gentle, indeed. The eagled spread its wings and slowed on its approach to the overhanging platform from which they had taken off.
‘Valinos!’ someone cried out as he drew near. He was still in the air.
It was Fen’asel. ‘What?!’ she sputtered. She ran along the platform as the eagle glided by. She leaned over the barrier and watched Valinos borne in majestically.
Gidius barely touched down when the girl ran to him, incredulous. Valinos could barely keep back laughter as her eyes struggled to comprehend the sight.
‘That was… that was you?’ she asked. Even bewildered, her voice had the loveliest tone, like a singing breeze. ‘I saw Gidius in the sky, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw someone riding him… but it was you?’
‘Hello, Fen’asel,’ he said. ‘I’m back.’ Still atop the creature, Valinos figured he must have looked regal himself.
Fen’asel let out a half-formed word, at a loss for what to say. It was good to see her. As she stood speechless, Valinos realised how he had missed her energy and playfulness, her wonderful presence. In her usual attire of subdued tones, she was still more striking than the setting sun.
‘How… how did you do that, Valinos?’ she asked at last.
‘Uh, I had a moment of madness.’
‘I can see that. You’ve given Gidius a kingly scarf.’ Fen’asel stepped over and admired the purple cloth hung around the eagle’s neck. Valinos had not yet dismounted. A second idea sparked, perhaps even more crazy than the one which initially led to this excitement.
‘Would you like to come with me?’ he asked.
‘Oh, Val… but I have so many things to do.’ She tucked a plait behind her ear and looked away. There were traces of half-opened sacks and other tools lying about the platform. Valinos’ arm was still outstretched.
‘Gidius, what do you say?’ asked Valinos, ‘Shall we go again?’
The eagle let out a sound, as friendly as could be produced by such an enormous creature. Valinos raised his eyebrows.
‘Fen, you showed me something wonderful when I first arrived here. Now it’s my turn.’
Fen’asel took his hand. She hopped on and squealed when the eagle stirred. She latched on to Valinos. The added weight seemed of no concern to Gidius, whose graceful movements went on unhindered. It prepared for a dive once more.
‘I’ll have to be careful,’ Valinos said, getting into position for take-off. ‘Otherwise, your old man will have my head and feed me to the birds.’
Fen’asel laughed and clung tighter.
Gidius launched into the air once more. This time, Valinos relished the fall and the sudden rise. Fen’asel seemed to have taken to the flight better than he did the first time.
‘That felt rather heroic,’ she said as Gidius eased into level glide and took them around over Guladran. Lights were beginning to spring to life, both above and below. Daylight was relinquishing its hold over the wooded hills in the distance and the snow-blanketed mountains. In its place, fires from the town beneath lit through the maze of wood and stone. And above, the first stars twinkled. The sea, not long before awash with the glow of sunset, cooled into a murky blue.
‘This is incredible,’ Fen’asel said. Valinos felt her twisting side to side. He wished he could see her face. Her grip was firm and warm.
‘You once said you regret not being able to fly,’ he said. ‘I hope this changes how you feel.’
Valinos could not see her reaction. She buried her faced in his back. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly, almost inaudibly over the whistling breeze. A few heartbeats later, she sang.
Like rushing rain that falls through empty air
Or feathered clouds which rise without compare
I am a mewling bird which swoops and soars
The freedom’s mine, this joy without a care
A skyward bliss, this peace is mine to share
Her voice mingled with the wind and fluttered off into the descending night. They passed over the town in silence. Valinos wondered if anyone would look up and notice them. What would they think? It mattered not. This moment was theirs.
‘It’s good to have you back,’ Fen’asel said.
Valinos reached up to his chest with one hand and found hers. Their palms settled into one another’s like they had always belonged together. Fen’asel leaned in again, closer.
Some dark feeling told Valinos this could not last. It told him that soon his road would take an unpleasant fork. It would be a turn she could not follow, if he were to do what needed doing. But tonight, he pushed that feeling away. Though the day was dying, Valinos would enjoy the freedom of the sky for another moment, before he was sent off on wilder winds again.