It has long been claimed that another land may lie across the seas. Many expeditions have set out to discover if this is true. Those who return have stories of nothing but water and monsters even after flying at top speed for days on end.
But most simply never return.
-An Explorer’s Journey
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Desten 6 was not hard to find. While the rumors of scandal surrounding him had lessened somewhat with his reappearance, they hadn’t died down entirely. And the fact that he left a bevy of scorned lovers in his wake meant that a great many people had reason to dislike him.
Quite intensely, in some cases. I found him by following the sound of a furious tirade being leveled at him. Though, to be fair, he was screaming back with the best of them. A very unexceptional-looking woman sat beside him, her expression stony as she watched but did not interact with the shouting duo.
“Dare you deny it to my face? After everything you’ve promised, you liar?”
“I never make promises I can’t keep! Never! Not once in my life have I promised that which I could not and did not deliver. If you are so mis-informed as to truly believe the slander you’re so repetitiously spewing in my direction, then you are truly pitiable!”
“My daughter has your letters, your own words in your own hand, and yet you still deny your promises?”
“I make no promises! Do you think me an idiot? I know the game better than you, old woman, and I’ve certainly played it with skill far in excess of anything you could bring to the table.”
She slapped him across the face, prompting a brief golden glow as his power pulsed to heal the irritant. “You are a charlatan and a thief. If you have not returned to my family what is ours by the time you depart this city, I will demand satisfaction.”
“Gladly,” Desten snarled. “I would not touch anything of your stupid daughter’s inheritance were it not forced upon me by her own insistence. If I were you, I would take a firmer hand in her discipline. She clearly does not understand how to carry out her family’s honour.”
“I’ll expect my heirlooms returned, then.”
“Send a list to my servants. I’ve better things to do than handle shipping.”
The woman raised her chin. “Typical Varon. Thinking you’re above the rest of us.”
“Only, in my case, I actually am. Significantly so. In fact, I’d very nearly suspect you of pushing your daughter at me deliberately in order to grasp at some fraction of my glory, were it not that such a scheme would require you to have at least a modicum of intellect and forethought,” hissed Desten 6, rising from his seat. “Now be gone.” His power rose around him in a flickering yellow halo, not quite an aura bubble, not quite flames, but something in between.
The woman took a hasty step back, but couldn’t resist trying to get in the last word. “Curse you, Desten Varon. Curse you and your family.”
“I’ll be sure to relay the salutation, teirna.”
The woman’s breath hissed in sharply and for a moment I thought she’d slap him again, fire aura or no fire aura, but she thought better of it and settled for simply a muttered, “Varon slime,” before she spun and stalked away.
Desten exhaled slowly, his ring of light fading away, then smiled with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Next?”
I stepped forward before anyone else could, and the people around began whispering at once. I swore I heard my name mentioned, which probably meant they’d heard about my escapade. Oh, well. I had a reputation now, whether I wanted it or not, but that wasn’t going to stop me.
“Excuse me, Eirn Desten. We haven’t met, but I’m conducting a study on the impact of—”
“No thank you. Next!”
“Please, I simply wish to know if you—”
His eyes glowed yellow as he glared at me. “Go. Away.”
I went, heart suddenly racing. The menace of his glare brought back every memory, every nightmare, every thought of being hunted and killed like Fylen.
I retreated to a quiet corner and considered.
Desten 6’s hair was a bit longer than I’d remembered from the forest, wavy and unbound around his shoulders. His voice carried a strident tone now which killer Desten’s had lacked, but that could well be attributed to the context. Here, he was in his element, toying with those he’d wronged. There, he’d been about to fight for his life.
If it was him. It might not be. I couldn’t jump to conclusions, just because he was angry and scary and never lived well by anyone’s standards at all, let alone the careful responsible Fylen’s. It still could have been any of them. Well, not any.
I was actually finally getting close to checking off all the Destens in one way or another. I at least knew something about them all. Except those two randomly in Oros, despite having no family ties to Varon. That was weird enough. I couldn’t write them off. I’d need to head to Oros as soon as reasonable and figure out their deal. But in the meantime…
1: plausible. He has a temper, and the power to be capable of it. Motive, though, kept snagging on motive. Political reasons? But why would Reirn Ushan set me on the killer’s trail if it was his own nephew? Unless Desten 1 was acting alone? But he was already third in line for the throne, what would he have to gain? Potential, but I felt it unlikely.
2: wrong voice, wrong hair, too controlled. I stood by my decision to rule him out.
3: political motivations, possibly? But unless Fylen’s definition of ‘living well’ meant ‘getting out of the house more than once a decade’ I didn’t feel like Desten 3 fit. Plus, I’d never seen him exhibit any particular ability to utilize power beyond its absolute basic applications. He had to rest halfway just flying between local cities! I was pretty sure he had neither the temperament nor capability of carrying out the attack in the forest.
4: still in a coma. Had been since months before Fylen’s death. Easy one to rule out, there.
5: young, lost. I couldn’t say whether he was powerful enough to do it, or why he might want Fylen dead. And the ‘never living well’ thing seemed a bit harsh to level at someone so young who hadn’t had a chance to decide if he’d live well or poorly yet. Still, I also couldn’t rule him out. I had no strong evidence either for or against him. I’d have to stop by his house again sometime once they were back from touring, see if he’d open up a bit more. I didn’t want it to be him, but my personal feelings weren’t enough to declare it fact.
6: total jerk. Unknown motives, but of all the Destens I’d met he certainly met the ‘didn’t live well’ requirement. And he threw his power around causally. And scared me half to death. But, again, personal feelings shouldn’t be making the calls. I should ask around, find out more about him from others if he wouldn’t speak to me himself.
7: had a wife and child, yet was traveling more than usual. That was suspicious right there. I wondered if Vess had found anything more yet.
8 was a woman. Metako was pink. Utrenad didn’t travel and was a good friend according to Aneeyha. I should ask her what colour his power was, just to be sure, but it probably wasn’t him.
So that left me with Varon 1, 3, 5, 6, 7, Oros 1, or Oros 2 as possible suspects. I’d eliminated almost half of the Destens from consideration, and nearly half of those remaining were iffy.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
I hoped it would be easily and obviously one of those I hadn’t met. I didn’t want it to be any of them. Even Desten 6, now that I wasn’t staring into his terrifying angry eyes, didn’t seem like a murderer. Sure, he played around with people’s affections, broke hearts, ran off with heirlooms, was the subject of countless scandals. But killer Desten, there was something wrong with him. He’d been acting decidedly abnormal, and I’d seen no hint of insanity in Desten 6.
I glanced back at where he held court, this time arguing silkily with another young man. The woman beside him, presumably Trancy if the rumors I’d heard were correct, seemed to be growing agitated far more than either of the men. The second man slammed a hand on the table, and a pulse of red light pushed him and Desten 6 away from each other. He continued gesturing for a few minutes, then stalked away.
Desten 6 seemed to be very good at making people angry.
Fylen had been angry.
But I didn’t want to let an intense personal dislike interfere with my judgment, and I was none too impressed with Desten 6’s personality myself.
So, now that I was here, how to go about finding more about him without approaching him directly?
Fortunately, and somewhat to my surprise, Abridged wasn’t made up of the usual boring parties. All the events took place in a single city, instead of being spread across a house’s territory. Only the first - tonight’s - and final events would involve the usual wandering around socializing. Those in between would be visits to local attractions or shows put on specifically for those touring.
That would undoubtedly make it easier for me to maintain my own sanity, at least. But whether it would make asking others about Desten 6 easier or harder I couldn’t say.
In the end, Trancy left to find food while Desten continued his ongoing arguments with everyone and sundry, so I slipped after her.
I waited until she was a safe distance away, then caught her eye and bowed slightly. “Eirn Trancy?”
“If you think I’m going to help you get Ten’s attention, you’re mistaken,” she said flatly, annoyance clear in everything from her tone of voice to her stance. “I swear, this year has been nothing but morons trying to get something out of him.”
“I’m not trying to get anything out of him. I just want to know more about him without relying entirely on rumor and gossip. I’m researching the impact of a famous influence on people, and Reirn Desten is a pretty significant person to be named after.”
She laughed unkindly. “Really. You think some long-dead reirn meant anything to that man? I don’t think even a live reirn could change him.”
“But perhaps unconsciously, subtly. What is he like when he isn’t wheedling or shouting? What are his interests, who does he befriend?”
She sighed and gestured for me to follow. “I still need a drink. If you must bother me, at least you’ll keep the others off. Pack of dragonspawn the lot of them.”
She set off toward the bar, and I followed, unsure if I should keep asking questions or if she needed her drink first. But about halfway there, she started talking again.
“You know, of everyone who approached me with their personal agendas, no one else has really asked what he cares about. It was all either accusations or warnings or straight jealous inanity. A year ago, I’d have thrown you out for being presumptuous. Is it strange that I find it refreshing now?”
I shrugged. “It can’t be easy. I’ve only been here a few hours, and I’ve already heard more than I care to about his private affairs.”
Trancy grimaced. “Yes. He has had a great many of those.”
“How long have you—”
“Been the chosen one?” She smiled, and there was something of a glint in her eye. She went from appearing weary and uninterested to suddenly dangerous in a heartbeat. “Since around the end of last touring season. If he’d had his way, we’d still be in seclusion, but I wanted to have one last chance to dispel any rumors about us before we disappear for good.”
“Is that what this is supposed to be? Dispelling rumors?”
We reached the bar and she spent a moment picking out the drink she wanted, a pale forest green liquid that was almost transparent. She downed it in one gulp, set the glass down, and picked up another. “At least give people some closure. I’m not the first one he’s tried to take advantage of, just the first one to outplay him at his own game. And I want everyone to know he’s mine now, and they’ve no choice but to put their own schemes aside.”
Wow. That was not the direction I’d thought this was going.
“So, what is he like? When he’s not being a schemer and breaking hearts?”
“He’s always a schemer. If you don’t know him, you may think he isn’t, that he’s transparent and moody, but that’s all his game. Entirely. He’s charming one minute, sad the next, domineering the next, and it’s all because he’s playing his emotions just as much as he’s playing you. That’s the first thing you have to understand about my Ten, he is never out of control. Never.”
She emptied the second glass and selected a third.
“I, on the other hand, am completely transparent. I think that’s what threw him, in the end. He tried so hard to trip me up, put so much on his interpretation being right, on me being just like him, and then when I turned out to be simply stubborn and straightforward it threw off all his calculations. IS that his one weakness? His assumption that everyone around him must be either stupid or exactly as brilliant as himself? So when you turn out to be neither of those, it throws him off his game? I think that’s it.”
“So, if you’ve been in seclusion all year, where were you?”
She gestured in a circle with the glass. “Around. I kept him at my estate for a while until his disappearance wasn’t major news any more. Then we spent some time in a cottage away from the cities.” She smiled again. “But I can’t keep him isolated forever. That would drive him mad, I think. He needs people. As much as I despise them.”
She drained the third glass and took a fourth, this time switching from the clear green to a murky red. She did not drink this, but set out back toward where Desten was arguing intently with an older woman. I could see what Trancy meant. He seemed to approach each argument as a different individual. While in the first he’d been ranting as though on the edge of losing his temper, the second he’d approached like a debate, and this he spoke in a low voice with quiet intensity.
The seeming genuineness of it threw me. I’d never observed such an expert in deception, in changing his persona to fit the mood effortlessly.
I almost envied him.
“Have you been to Sarosa?” I asked before I could think better of it. “I know a lot of Varons spend time in Sarosa.”
“Me? Of course. I do tour.”
“No, I mean, with Desten, er, ‘Ten’, after leaving the public scrutiny for your retreat.”
“No, we stayed mostly in Wightok. I own a great deal of land there. Plenty of privacy, and it wouldn’t be associated with him.”
“So you can safely say that he was not in or near Sarosa at all this winter?”
She stopped walking and narrowed her eyes at me. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, only, I was in Sarosa this winter, and I thought I saw him. But if you say he was nowhere near there, then I must have been mistaken.”
“I can assure you, whoever you saw, it wasn’t Ten. He took my orders to stay away from any cities very seriously.”
I wanted to press further, that wasn’t enough of a denial to rule out downcity rural areas, but before I could think how to approach the question we’d reached Desten’s table. She passed him the drink, whispered something in his ear, then resumed her seat.
When I hesitated, she waved a hand at me. “You can go.”
“Could I talk to you again another time?”
She ignored me.
I hung around another two hours, watching. Desten continued to work his way through everyone who had a grievance against him - seemingly half the Leetan population - and his handling of them remained flawless. Some he sent away satisfied, or at least no longer angry, others he whipped into rages and made to look foolish; some he spoke to calmly, others he engaged with their fury as though he were the one wronged.
It was fascinating to watch, and terrifying. I could no longer so easily assume he was simply a social player. With such complete emotional control over himself, I couldn’t assume anything about him.
Trancy had resumed her blank-faced observation, deflecting or waving off anyone who tried to approach her directly. A few times, she spent a minute or two conversing before dismissing her interlocutor, but most of the time she simply ignored them if they didn’t leave at her first insistence.
And then the evening came to an end. Desten and Trancy linked arms and walked away, their bodies moving in perfect sync as though they’d spent weeks practicing exactly how to walk together for maximum impact, her silver and his gold both adorned with tiny red sequins as accents, matching and yet each unique.
They were a stunning couple, at a distance. No amount of adornment could fully conceal the blandness of her face, but when seen at a distance it didn’t matter.
I returned to my apartment, unsatisfied. Trancy’s answers had been just vague enough not to truly rule him out. She had only insisted he’d stayed away from Sarosa cities, not the territory as a whole. Wightok was a good distance away from Sarosa, though, so if that’s where they were staying chances were good they wouldn’t have happened to stop up for a murder. There was no obvious connection to Fylen. But, then again, none of the Destens had an obvious connection. Whatever Fylen had been doing in secret, that could have been with anyone.
Sometimes it felt like everything I learned only made things more uncertain.
As I prepared to sleep, I realized that I missed Desten 3. Of everyone I’d met since coming upcity on this desperate venture, he was the most like me in temperament and interests. Even after our falling-out in Leetan, even when not speaking to each other for days, there was a sort of camaraderie in being a pair of scholars, together against the madness of touring season. He wanted to change the world, I wanted to bring a killer to justice. We were similar on a deep level.
If I was going to stick with being Astesh forever, I should put in some effort to repairing our relationship. I could easily see myself hanging out in his library talking about politics or whatever new topic he came up with in years to come. Even if he was a naive fool, there was an endearing genuineness to him. He truly thought he could make a change, and if we could find a way to actually make it happen, that drive of his could prove truly valuable.
I really hoped it wasn’t him.
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