5 - INNOCENCE

We set up camp on the beach. Justinia collected enough driftwood to start a small, meager fire; we put up a tent, though Justinia didn’t want to use it. We ate a light meal consisting of salted meat and bread, figuring we may as well eat it while it was still relatively fresh.

“How this is going to work,” Justinia said, “is that one of us is going to be awake at all times. We’ll sleep in shifts every night. What you’re trying to do—it’s just too dangerous for us to be taking risks.”

“But we haven’t even done anything yet. No one will be looking for us—”

“Better to get in the habit. Anyway, they don’t have to be actively searching. The Autarchy is plenty dangerous regardless. The Order of the Seeking Hand has agents everywhere.”

There was no point in arguing, so I just nodded. “Wake me when it’s my turn.”

“Of course. And if you’re on guard, and you see anything at all that concerns you—don’t second guess yourself. Don’t worry about bothering me, either. Just wake me up. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good. Now, go sleep.”

I slept, though not very well. A bedroll inside a tent on a beach wasn’t something I was used to. My bed back at Shadow Castle had been nothing special, but it had been familiar, and there’s something indescribably comfortable about the familiar.

At some point, Justinia crawled into my tent and nudged me awake, and I took up her position next to the fire. There was nothing to do but study the stars. I realized, then, that one of my great enemies would be boredom. Back home, I’d never been bored—there was always something to read or study. I’d sketched a lot and even tried my hand at music on occasion. Now I had nothing except an empty tome inside my travel bag.

I brought it out and ran a hand across the leather cover. I hadn’t put it in there. Who had? Almost certainly my father. I cracked it open.

And there, on the first page, a note in tiny, neat handwriting: Aurion, my son. This is my gift to you. Use this book to record everything you learn in your travels—about yourself, about necromancy, about the world. Record your knowledge. If you are to be the great necromancer we all need you to be, you must be constantly learning. Go forth, Aurion, and discover the universe.

I gently closed the book, face tight with emotion. No, my father and I had never been close, but…still, I felt sudden and unexpected fondness for the man. I wished, then, to talk to him, man to man, in a way I never had.

I would never get the chance.

We packed up camp as the sun began to rise. Justinia led the way off of the beach. We traversed a rocky slope that brought us to the top of a hill. A field stretched out before us, long grass swaying in the cool salty wind. Mountains in the distance. A river cutting its way across the land. Birds soared overhead, small and noisy. It was a beautiful view. A beautiful moment. The world seemed infinitely large, infinitely exciting.

“Right,” said Justinia, hands on her lips. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

I turned to face her. “I’m sure there are a lot of things we need to talk about.”

“This is particularly pressing.”

I gestured for her to continue.

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She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s the rather obvious question. Where in the fuck are we going? What’s our goal? Listen, I know you have a grand destiny and all that—a grand mission. I haven’t been away from the Isles for so long that I’ve forgotten why I left in the first place. Fact remains, however, that it’s all terribly vague. So—let’s clear it up a little. Otherwise we’ll be wandering around in circles.”

I stared at her for a long, long moment, my mind racing.

It was, I realized, a very good question.

Where were we going?

I knew what the end goal was. But what did the journey look like?

“Oh no,” Justinia said, face falling. “You don’t even know, do you?”

I grimaced. “Well, the thing is…”

Justinia closed her eyes.

“I suppose,” I said slowly, “that I need allies. And I need to practice my necromancy—to learn how to better control it. And to become more powerful.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. This next part was awkward and I wasn’t sure how much I should even tell her. But my father had told me to trust her completely, and so that’s what I decided to do. “Do you, uh, know what I am?”

“Aside from a clueless, bumbling fool?”

“That feels a little unfair, considering you hardly know me.”

“The Deathlord Prime?”

“Yes,” I said, “there is that. More specifically, however, I am a Soul Eater.”

She said nothing. Waiting, perhaps, for me to say more.

“Souls have power—” I began.

“Don’t lecture me as though I didn’t also grow up on the Isles.”

I cleared my throat. “My apologies. The point, however, is that because of the special circumstances surrounding my birth…I am able to…to, well, consume souls. To take them into me. And to use them as fuel. And the more souls I devour…the greater my power.”

Justinia didn’t move. She remained silent. Horrified? Bored? She was so difficult to read—and I was not so good at reading people in the first place.

“I already knew this, of course,” she said. “Your father made sure I was well informed when I first set off.”

“May I ask—what exactly have you spent the last decade doing?”

“A great many things,” she said, “including the accumulation of a small fortune. I have also formed a plethora of alliances and friendships all across the Autarchy. A lot of people owe me a lot of favors. I also understand the Autarchy. I know how to get around.”

I clicked my tongue, deep in thought. “What is the closest Autarchy city to us right now?”

Justinia squinted into the distance. “Tymora, I’d say.”

“Right. Then we’ll go to Tymora. Do you have friends there?”

“I have friends everywhere.”

“Then it seems as good a place to start as any.”

Justinia slowly shook her head. “I don’t like this. To simply wander into an Autarchy city without a specific purpose in mind is foolhardy. You do not understand how tightly the Autarchy controls their people. And Tymora in particular is a troublesome place—it wasn’t so long ago that it was conquered, and its people still identity with the old Dominion, even if Marak has done everything in his power to erase their memory. That city is swarming with agents, with secret police, with soldiers and Sun Knights.”

“Then what do you suggest?” I was already beginning to grow impatient—and even annoyed at myself for not having a clearer idea of what I needed to do.

“If you need souls,” said Justinia, “it would be more practical to simply wander the countryside and hunt for whomever is most vulnerable. We will kill them and then you can suck out their souls with impunity.”

“No,” I said sharply. “Listen to me right now. I need to make something abundantly clear. I am not a killer of innocents. Justinia, the whole point of this is to do a good thing in the universe. The gods are a threat to humanity, as is Marak—that’s why they need to be destroyed. But common people? Humans just trying to live their lives? They’re the whole reason why I’m doing this in the first palace.” I crossed my arms. “I’ll die before I commit any evil act.”

Such an easy thing to say—at the time.

I miss my old innocence.

The problem with innocence is that once you lose it, you can’t ever get it back.

Trust me—I’ve tried.