Year: 3045 AGD

Month: New Life

Fourth Sixthday

Siniquity

Cyrian Dreadmeir’s Estate

Life around the Estate settled down a little after Tatiana had the conversation with her mother in the dining hall. Shade didn’t know what the Queen had said to her daughter, but it seemed that the Princess was finally starting to take advantage of the tutors that Cyrian had provided. He had even seen her working with a younger-looking Elven woman in the Northern courtyard, Practicing with a pair of long knives.

He had spent a lot of time at Cyrian’s workshop since being introduced to the facility, but even after six days he had only visited a handful of the different research labs. That first day he had witnessed a dissection of perhaps the most disgusting being ever. The Tiridarum was a creature with a dozen tentacles that lived in the swamps on the southern edge of the Great Desert. Each tentacle stretched for twenty feet, and Cyrian said when the thing was alive, each tentacle would act like a separate organism.

The tentacles themselves had small barbs that were used for gripping whatever they managed to get ahold of, and each limb was like a gigantic leech. As soon as it latched onto its prey, it began to siphon the blood from its victim. While the tentacles could work together to take down large game, more often than not, each tentacle would attach itself to a different creature.

Dead, the creature was a slimy, disgusting, and yet intriguing, mound of grossness. Alive, it would mean a horrifying and slow death as it replaced your blood with a numbing agent, making it increasingly difficult to offer any kind of resistance. Cyrian and his team studied everything about the creature, taking meticulous notes and cataloging each piece for further examination and testing.

Shade had spent the first few days looking into the massive amount of records that Cyrian’s team had gathered, but the records, and the creatures that they described were beyond his comprehension. He quickly realized as he perused the archives that he had very little understanding of any of the information they had gathered. Thus, began his campaign of asking every question he could think of to fill in those gaps. After it became apparent that he was not only disrupting their research, but also testing this section’s patience for his questioning, he moved to the next area.

Plants of every size and shape were grown, stored, or cataloged by the botanists Cyrian employed. He soon learned that they were the department that supplied many of the plants that were arrayed throughout Cyrian’s estate and on display in his gardens. It turned out that plants were not only much more interesting than he had realized before, but also potentially as deadly as the Tiridarum. The scariest part was that while the Tiridarum was obviously terrifying, some of the most dangerous plants were absolutely beautiful.

Realizing that if he maintained the pace he had started in the first room, it would take him months to get through the building, he decided that he would spend a day in each department to get a lay of the land and then decide where he wanted to study. With that in mind, he bid the botanists goodbye on Fourthday evening, and he moved onto the next department on Fifthday.

The next department had a slightly more specific field of study than the previous two. Instead of studying all animals or plants, they were focused on the physical similarities and differences between the humanoid species on Terrazil. Shade was fairly certain he could spend years in that lab and still have new things to learn. It was with a mind full of new and interesting information, and great reluctance, that he left the facility the night before.

Shade was just getting ready to head out on another day of discovery when he was informed at breakfast that Master Dreadmeir requested his presence at his earliest convenience. Which meant right now, or a few minutes ago.

“I wonder what he wants now.” Shade was getting used to having a dialogue with the voice in his head; he still was having issues not talking to the former High Commander aloud however.

“Doesn’t matter, he says jump, you jump.” One of today’s guards groused.

This morning, he was accompanied by a surly Human male named Paulino and a large dwarf with ashen skin named Mindk. Paulino was only about a head taller than Shade was, and he seemed to have a complaint or comment about everything. By contrast, Mindk was taller than all the other guards except the Dracani, and twice as wide. The massive dwarf spoke very little, but when he did speak, it was in a thick accent that Shade hadn’t heard from anyone else to date.

“Thanks, Paulino, I hadn’t quite figured that one out yet,” Shade replied. “Do me a favor and remind me again later, just in case. Alright?”

“Smartass,” Paulino muttered.

Smartass, Stewart Cantel agreed. Maybe the Jason fellow that Cyrian was waiting for has returned.

Shade felt like the former High Commander was probably right. They had been expecting the mysterious man’s return for an eightday. Both of them were curious as to what sorts of training he might be able to provide. Stewart Cantel had a need to train that Shade was pretty sure passed the line into addiction. While Shade was interested and excited to find out what kind of training Jason would provide, the former High Commander was rapturous at the prospect.

Just remember, this is my body.

Of course, Cantel said. I’m just looking forward to seeing what you can do.

Yeah, well, so am I.

The door to Cyrian’s study was open as they approached, and the men guarding the doorway motioned for Shade to enter. Paulino and Mindk took up positions beside their compatriots as Shade broke off from their watch. As he entered, he saw a familiar face sitting in front of Cyrian’s desk. It was the tall man they had seen in the clearing shortly after the Arch Magus placed Stewart Cantel inside Shade’s mind. His sickly complexion had not improved since they last saw him.

Several steps into the room, he felt one of the guards reach in and close the door. As Shade approached the desk, Cyrian grinned and motioned to the open seat.

“Shade, excellent timing; Jason just finished filling me in on his trip.” Cyrian looked towards the man who must be Jason. “Of course, you remember Shade. He has been greatly impressing the household since your departure.”

“Not surprising,” Jason said, his voice a quiet rasp that fit well with his sickly visage. “Anyone who can make a tree eat two Dracairei has to have a trick or two up his sleeve.”

Shade unconsciously placed his hand over the manacle that was hidden under his long sleeves. While the manacles didn’t work nearly as well as they had before he tore them off in the forest, they still kept his abilities suppressed, and until six days ago he had thought that they were also keeping the creature inside of his mind contained. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Shade said.

“Well at least he’s not denying it anymore,” Jason grinned.

“Yes, that is an improvement over thinking that we’re idiots.” Cyrian ran his left hand over his smooth scalp. “Unfortunately, he has also been challenging every guard in the house, and after a match or two, besting each of them.”

“And I assume word about this has gotten out to the city?” Jason sighed.

Cyrian nodded.

“And now I suppose the council expects you to enroll him in one of the idiotic competitions that they love so much.”

Cyrian raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod.

“And because I’m sitting here, I’m guessing it isn’t the martial contest or the Shaper contest, because he would probably wipe the floor with either of those. Which leaves only one other option.”

Cyrian smiled as he stood and moved to look out over the garden below. The room that Cyrian had given Shade overlooked the same garden, and Shade had found himself standing near the window in his room on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t fault the Blood Mage. It was Cyrian’s garden, after all.

“That’s one of the reasons I appreciate your friendship.” Cyrian sighed. “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask a favor.”

“You want me to see how good the kid can be?” Jason looked straight into Shade’s eyes. The grin accompanied by the pink tinge of the man’s eyes had a disquieting effect.

“Yes, I’d like you to take the boy under your wing. Teach him what is needed to survive next year’s contest.”

“And win.”

“Well, of course he’s going to win. I just don’t want him to get killed because of it.” Cyrian’s silver orbs met Jason’s sickly pink gaze and Shade felt sure he had just missed something.

You’ll figure it out sooner or later, Stewart Cantel said.

Shade hopped out of his chair. “I’m not even sure why I needed to be here. If you guys are just going to talk about me like I’m not in the room, I’ll just be off.”

Before Shade could blink, he found himself sitting back in the chair. He looked around, confused for a moment, before testing to see if he could move. Feeling nothing constraining him, his gaze shifted to Cyrian, who stood near the window with a bemused grin. The Blood Mage shook his head slightly as if to say, it wasn’t me. Shade slowly turned to look at the sickly-looking man in the chair next to him.

Jason sat in the chair, his visage one of seriousness. “It isn’t proper to leave the Master of the house’s presence without first asking his leave.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be sure to remember that next time,” Shade said. He focused his mind before leaping out of his chair to run towards the door. His mind barely registered the movement before he was once again sitting in the chair in front of the desk across from Jason.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt elation bubble forth.

Well I’m glad that someone is amused by this at least, Stewart Cantel grumbled.

I had a feeling that wasn’t you, Shade replied, a little more scared than he had been a moment before.

Remember the memory of the Dragon-turned-Mage Tyrdra when she and her whelp were about to assault the town that was besieged by the Dracair.

Shade found his mind recalling the dream-like memory of Tyrdra and Dalton’s incursion into the city, and it only took him a moment to figure out what his mind was telling him. As soon as he began to pull in the energy necessary to enact the Shaping to his mind, two things occurred. First, his manacles began to warm up quickly, and second, he felt that deep part of his mind guiding him with the Shaping.

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Trying to duplicate something he had seen in a dream was no easy task, even if it had been the memories of the person performing the feat. Slowly, bit by bit, he felt his mind accept the changes that he and the memories of the Shapers before him were trying to make. The world around him began to slow; he could feel his heartbeat slow to a crawl and he started to panic before a calmness overtook him.

Be calm hatchling, there is nothing wrong; we were successful.

Watching Cyrian’s other eyebrow raise in surprise in slow motion was almost comical, but that wasn’t the reason they had improved his perception of the world. Shade once again attempted to run towards the door, but his body wasn’t used to the speed that he was trying to move, so instead of hopping gracefully out of his seat, he leapt a foot forward and barely retained his balance as he pivoted towards the door.

Even with his greatly enhanced perception, his mind still only registered Jason’s movement in three still frames before he found himself seated back in his chair. His mind recognized the contact of Jason’s hands, where the man must have grabbed his arms when he placed him back in his seat, but even that feeling was gone an instant later, like a dream of a thought.

It’s not enough; I need more. Shade attempted to expand the Shaping, but something stopped him.

You will break your mind.

I think he’s right, Stewart Cantel interjected before Shade could unleash his building rage. I don’t know a whole lot about these things, but I know it takes a lot to accomplish what you just did. To attempt anymore now would be dangerous.

Shade took a deep breath, trying to release the frustration that was bubbling up inside of him. He looked around the room for something to focus on and found the water clock on the mantle behind Cyrian’s chair. He watched as the seconds ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace. His mind was perceiving one second as if it were taking four to five seconds. After about ten ticks of the clock, he turned back to face the man across from him.

“I’m sorry. I can see now that I have a lot to learn.”

“W…h…a…t…..d…i…d…..h…e…..s…a…y?” Cyrian was moving slowly back towards his seat.

“Perhaps we should slow things back down for now?” Jason was grinning in his seat and giving a slight nod as he spoke.

Shade nodded in return and began to work on unraveling the Shaping that he had enacted. The voice of the creature inside his mind seemed willing to let him figure it out on his own, as it offered no advice. Shade tried to remember what Tyrdra had done after the fight to bring her perception back to normal. He felt his cheeks flush as he started from the last moment of the dream and moved backwards to the instant that she set her mind back into proper working order.

Following her example, he realized that she had taken a mental image of her own mind before enacting her Shaping, so that she knew exactly what it should look like afterwards. Not having this option because of his inexperience and haste, Shade had to hope that he didn’t mess things up too badly. He knew that given time, his mind would return to its natural state, but until that time, he would be stuck with whatever mistakes he made.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he managed to unravel the changes made to his mind to increase his perception. He learned a lot just by the act of observing how the energies were influencing the different parts of his brain, and before he realized it, he was done. Blinking several times, he looked back to the water clock to make sure he was perceiving time at the speed that his mind was used to, and realized that if there was a difference, it was too small for him to notice.

Looking down, he saw that Cyrian was sitting quietly in his chair, waiting for an explanation. As he turned to look at Jason, he saw the tall pale man holding up his finger, asking the Blood Mage for patience.

“Back to normal?” Jason asked. The sound of his voice was slightly off, as if Shade were hearing him through a wall.

“Close enough, I think.” Shade said. His fascination that developed while he was unraveling the Shaping had helped curb his frustration more than any other mental exercise could have.

“Alright, can anyone tell me what just happened? Because from where I was standing it looked like the same thing three times in a row.”

“Almost, Cyrian.” Jason said. “The first time it happened without him understanding why. The second time, he figured out why with a little help, but he couldn’t understand how. The third time, he did something to speed up his perception, and though he might still not understand how completely, I’m guessing he has a better understanding of me, and of himself.”

“Well, that clears everything up.” Cyrian did not seem amused.

“Let’s just say that he can learn to be faster; how much, I don’t think any of us know the answer to that, but that’s not why I’m going to agree to your request.”

“I’m guessing it has something to do with whatever he said to you in that jumble of sounds he made?”

“Partly. He apologized and said he had a lot to learn.” Jason smiled.

Shade expected the man’s smile to give his pallid features a ghastly expression, but instead it showed him a hopeful yet tired man. As he looked into Jason’s eyes, he saw more than a lifetime’s worth of joy, sorrow, fear, and anger. Someone who had tried for a long time to be the best version of who they could be, but somehow failed to meet their own expectations every time.

“The other part, however, is how quickly he mastered his anger and frustration and recognized that he wasn’t physically or mentally capable of solving this problem yet.” Jason lifted the glass next to him and took a sip. “I have met old men who still haven’t figured that one out. Knowing your own limits and accepting them as temporary obstacles is the first step to self-improvement.”

“I’ve always felt much the same way.” Cyrian eyed Shade before pulling out a cloth and Shaping the water out of the air to fill it with moisture. “You are going to show me whatever it was you did?”

Shade caught the damp cloth as it was tossed in his direction. He was confused for a moment before he noticed the small trail of smoke rising from his sleeve. He pulled back the cloth and applied its damp surface to the heated metal, and a slight hiss ensued. Repeating the procedure on his other arm, he marveled at how well the scales that had developed along his forearm had insulated him from the heat.

“Are those what I think they are?” Jason stood and moved closer to Shade. “I thought I saw fragments of the manacles at the site of the High Commander’s death, but the silver that lined the edges made me think I was imagining it. That pattern is unmistakable, however; where did you find these?”

“Yes, from what my sources have been able to discover, it seems that Council member Yandarian felt that an eight-and-a-half-year-old boy required one of the most powerful artifacts ever created, that just happens to be older than The Great Destruction, in order to be kept in check.”

“Well, if this kid is the one who nearly burnt down the man’s manor a little over a year ago, he might have had reason.” Jason smiled. “Was that you, kid?”

Shade shrugged. “Apparently, but I don’t remember any of it. Whatever happened, it made him mad enough to suppress whoever I was before.”

“Unless doing that is what triggered the episode.” Cyrian shrugged as his guests turned to look at him. “There are whispers from the servants of a fearsome beast in the guise of a child who went on a rampage that night. ‘His shadow was that of a mighty dragon, and his rage seared all who opposed his onslaught.’”

Cyrian pulled a stack of papers out of his desk and rummaged through until he found what he was looking for and passed it to Jason. “That’s only one of the more colorful explanations of what occurred that night; some are more descriptive, and others are sheer speculation based on secondhand accounts. Put that together with the fact that the guards I assigned to you inform me that you talk to yourself more than a little bit, and I would say you have some sort of dissociative identity disorder.”

“Delving into the archives again, I see?” Jason rolled his eyes. “That’s an old draw, even for me.”

“Yes, well, speculation must wait, I’m afraid,” Cyrian said, suddenly a flurry of motion. “I’ll let you two figure out your training schedule. Shade seems to have a fondness for bothering my researchers, so if you could try to keep him occupied a few days a week, that would be great for their productivity.”

Before Shade had time to process the previous conversation, he found himself being swept out in the hallway with Jason.

“Was it something I said?” Jason laughed. A dry rasp that cut off quickly. He then winked and started off down the hallway. “Meet me in the training yard tomorrow morning at dawn.”

“Dawn?” Shade heard the whine in his voice and cringed a little.

“I want to make sure you have enough time to get good and tired before nightfall.”

You know, I like this guy. Stewart Cantel said.

You would.

Fourth Seventhday

Siniquity

Cyrian Dreadmeir’s Estate

Shade was sprawled out on his bed. Something had awoken him, but he wasn’t sure exactly what that something was yet. He could see no light through his closed eyelids, so either the sun hadn’t come up yet, or someone had closed the curtains. A short cough followed by a rasping wheeze filled the void a moment before he reached out with his other senses. His mind just barely registered a form moving through the room at inhuman speeds before he realized there was a sharp object against his throat.

“You need to trust your instincts more. You’ve been awake for at least ten seconds and didn’t move a muscle. Remember, stillness will give you away just as well as overacting.” Jason’s raspy voice filled the darkness.

“Not like I could have stopped you anyway,” Shade whispered as he opened his eyes, acutely aware of the tip of the dagger at his throat.

“True, but what if it hadn’t been me?” Jason pulled something out of his pocket at the same moment Shade felt something warm drip onto his neck.

A soft light flooded the room, emanating from the stone held in Jason’s grasp. The dark room had already been sharply defined to Shade’s eyes, but the soft glow allowed him to distinguish color. Most notably, the dark red liquid that coated Jason’s dagger.

The tall man stepped back, placing the glowing orb on the nightstand before pulling out a square of cloth to clean his blade. Shade sat up and looked around the room, his eyes quickly locating the source of the blood. Near the entrance, the still form of a Dracairei lay on the floor, his body still convulsing as his heart continued trying to supply the assassin’s brain with vital oxygen. That wouldn’t happen though, as the man’s throat had been sliced open, and all of the blood that his body was trying to send to the assassin’s head was being pumped out onto the carpet.

“Someone seems to want you dead,” Jason said.

Shade looked from the dying assassin to the tall pale man who had just saved his life. He opened his mouth to speak, but it took him several tries before the words came. “Why?” followed by, “Is it normal to send assassins after kids?”

“The Elves do it all the time,” Jason mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You do seem to have some Elven features, but no, it isn’t common for a Dracairei to be dispatched for a child.” He gave his dagger one last look, making sure it was clean before sheathing it. “I’ve only heard of the like for royalty and extremely rare, extra-special grudges. Even those are usually just general hits, not targeting anyone specific, just anyone they can get their hands on. This one is personal, and this wasn’t the first one to make the attempt, so the price must be good.”

“Great.” Shade realized that Jason’s demeanor, along with the stoic strength emanating from the bundle of memories that was Stewart Cantel, was helping him maintain some semblance of calm, but deep within his mind, Shade could feel the burning rage and frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t going to take control though. He told himself that a dozen times, and yet his body still shook, and his voice trembled. “How many?”

“This was the third one.” Jason walked over to the dying Dracairei and made a tsk sound. “Cyrian is going to be upset about the carpet. At least he has plenty of lackeys that can clean it up.” He made a wiping motion with his hand. “They just stare at it until it comes out. Never could get the whole magic thing down.”

“Three?” Shade mumbled, a moment before the rational half of his mind registered what the man had said. “You can move faster than people can blink, and you are impressed with someone getting blood out of a carpet?”

“If you ever had to clean blood out of a carpet, you would be impressed as well.” Jason let out a quick bark of laughter. “Yeah, three. Well, really only two. Two professionals, and a stupid kid who the guards caught and held until I got back. I had to teach him a lesson and sent him back to the streets. The first one was only a few days after we got back from ‘rescuing’ the princess. Figured it would be a few eightdays before anyone tried again. Luckily, I was right where it mattered.”

Stewart Cantel was doing something to mute the flood of emotions that were emanating from deep within. It allowed Shade enough strength to stop his body from shaking, and the moisture on his cheeks to lessen. The twitching of the assassin’s body had just begun to settle when light began to filter in through the window as the sun’s rays defied the looming shadow of the mountain to the north.

Shade realized that he was supposed to meet Jason for training in only a short while. “Why were you here?”

“I always keep an eye on the place at night when I’m around.” Jason shrugged. “Also, I was going to come get you soon anyway so that we could sneak off before the guards realized what was going on.”

“Sneak off?” Shade swung his legs over the side of the bed and wiped his face with his hands. “I thought we were meeting in the yard for training.”

“Lesson number one. Don’t always trust what people say.” Jason threw him some clothes. “Get dressed. I did what I could to stop the bleeding for your guards, but if we don’t get them some help soon, they won’t make it.”

It took a moment for Shade’s mind to put the information together, and he felt stupid for not realizing that the assassin would have had to incapacitate or kill his guards to get into the room. He hadn’t talked to the guards on the night shift very often, but now that they had almost died for him, he figured that should change.

They were just getting ready to leave the room when a shrill voice was heard in the hallway calling the alarm.

“Well, everyone is up now, let’s go make sure they know we aren’t dead. I suppose we’ll have to do some ‘training’ in the yard now.” Jason sighed as he opened the door. “I was hoping to get some actual training done today, too. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.”