Eldin

The streets were emptier than Eldin had ever seen during the

star shower. Parties normally went on long after it had ended, but he

supposed with the Unmapped burning, no one felt inclined to celebrate.

At first, the alchemist's shop seemed locked up tight, but the

light of a lantern penetrated the cracks of the shutters. He touched the

lock with a single, long finger.

“Māra.”

The door jumped as a force of shadows struck it and swung

open. The overwhelming scent of alcohol pressed firmly against his

nose with no heed for the mask. Glass bottles full of ground herbs and

tinctures lined the walls. Eldin stalked behind the counter and down the

short hall toward the light. A young man sat at a table with glass bottles

full of herb mixtures and alcohol heating over a tiny fire. He measured

a brown liquid into a phial and wrote the results down on a piece of

paper.

“Alchemist.”

The man jumped, almost spilling his phial, and knocked his

pencil to the ground. He looked around and spotted Eldin in the

doorway. The color drained from his face.

“W-what do you want?” He scrambled to his feet and put the

table between them.

“My friend has dragon fever. I need medicine.”

The young man flinched as Eldin reached for his money pouch

and dumped out a handful of coins. He stared at the gold and silver on

the table, swallowed, and nodded.

“Follow me.” He led Eldin back out to the front of the store,

grabbing the lantern on the way, flame flickering as his hand trembled.

On the end of the top shelf, he pulled a phial with a greenish paste

within. “Elderflower, yarrow, and white willow bark. Tea if they’re

awake, rub it on their lips if not. If it doesn’t help within two days, bring

them here.”

He dropped the phial into Eldin’s outstretched hand and

snatched his fingers back.

“Thank you,” Eldin said, and shadowed from the shop. He rode

the shadows until he was back at the inn. The flicker of firelight shone

from only a couple windows, the only open one belonging to Zin and

Rowan.

Instead of shadowing in, he pressed his back to the cool

building and closed his eyes, reveling in the silence and seclusion. For

a single moment, he allowed the responsibility that came with

companions to fall from his shoulders. Neilan had been the only one he

had traveled with, and his old master never chatted as much as these

two.

Neilan. What had become of him? Surely, he had answers about

the memories that plagued him. Since finding Rowan, their intensity

had faded, which gave him a much needed break from Zin’s pestering,

but he could feel deep in his bones they meant something more,

something he hadn’t figured out.

Sighing, he shadowed to Zin’s room, materializing in the

darkest corner. She sat on the bed next to Rowan, tying a white ribbon

around his wrist and dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth.

“How is he?” Eldin asked. Zin jumped and put a hand to her

chest.

“Oh, Eldin. He woke up delirious, but he’s asleep again.”

Eldin glided over, taking the top off the phial and dipping his

finger in the tincture.

“You got it!” Zin scooted over.

“Yes. Luck was on our side. The alchemist was still in the

shop.” Eldin sat in her spot. Rowan was no longer shivering, but his

cheeks were still bright red. He dabbed the mixture onto Rowan’s lips,

and he automatically licked them. Eldin stood, setting the phial on the

table and taking his cloak off. He pulled down his hood and walked to

the open window. There wasn’t much of a view, only the alley between

buildings, but it was better than the stuffy room.

“Eldin?”

He turned to the touch of her fingers. She stood close, her

inquisitive eyes watching him.

“Will he be okay?”

“We can only wait and see. The alchemist said to bring him in

if he doesn’t get better.”

Zin nodded, leaning out the window with him. Their shoulders

touched and Eldin could feel the heat of her skin through their clothing.

“What was Rowan like when you were kids?” she asked.

“From the memories I have, he was fearless. Didn’t care what

the other kids said.”

“He cared what you thought, though.”

Eldin glanced at her, tilting his head in thought. “That’s…

possible. Why do you say so?”

“Oh, just something he said while he was delirious.”

Eldin stilled, watching a rat scurry through the alley below.

“And that was?”

“He thought I was his friend, Rourke. He thought this was a

dream.”

“And?”

“And he wished you liked him more than me.”

“What? I like you both–”

“Not that kind of like, silly.” Zin bumped his shoulder with her

own.

Eldin didn’t look at her. He was a Ghost, damn it. He wasn’t

supposed to like anybody and nobody was supposed to like him. A

feeling akin to claustrophobia settled over him, and suddenly it was all

too much.

Taking a step back, Eldin opened his mouth to make some

excuse to leave, when one made a timely appearance. Shadows ran like

liquid from the corners and hissed into steam around him. A job.

“Aww, can’t you refuse it?” Zin bit her lip and glanced at

Rowan.

“Not this time. This one is special. I must return a favor. Take

care of him. Give him the medicine one more time before going to bed

and in the morning if I’m not back.” Eldin grabbed his cloak from the

chair, swung it over his shoulders, and glanced back at Zin before

allowing the shadows to take him.

The vacuum of nothingness pressed on him before spitting him

out into the White Lily and into chaos. Two groups stood on either side

of the tavern. Kera, the barkeep, stood at the head of the locals on his

right, her feet planted and her hands on her hips. The group on his left

consisted of ten knights pointing their swords threateningly and yelling.

Kera glanced over and relief flooded her features. She gestured

for him to join her. Eldin glided between the groups, eyeing the knights.

“You bring another one in here?”

“How’s that going to solve your problems, lady?!”

Eldin glanced at Kera. “What are they talking about?”

She shot a worried glance at the knights, then took Eldin’s arm.

“Over here.”

The townspeople parted for them, a few nodding at Eldin. At

the back of the circle, a figure huddled on the ground, hands on their

head, rocking back and forth. They wore a black cloak, and Eldin could

tell it was another Ghost.

He knelt and put his hand on the man's shoulder, and he looked

up sharply. His hood fell off and crystal eyes stared out at him from

beneath sand colored hair. Eldin’s eyes widened, and he nearly lost his

balance.

“Neilan?”

“Eldin.” His old master whispered. His eyes darted left and

right before settling on Eldin again. “Did you remember?”

“Neilan, what happened? Where have you been?”

“It doesn’t matter, I escaped.” He giggled. “Do you remember

the before, Eldin?”

A clash of steel turned Eldin’s head. The knights were

attacking. “Wait here, Neilan.”

“No!” His master dived at him, clutching his wrists and staring

into his eyes. “Do. You. Remember?”

“More every day,” Eldin said, taken aback.

“It works,” Neilan breathed. Without warning, shadows slid

from around them, wrapping around his arms and legs like tentacles.

“Neilan, what’s going on?” They were behaving in a way Eldin

had never seen the shadows behave towards a Ghost before.

Neilan’s eyes bulged, and he bucked against the shadows with

no luck. “It found me. Eldin, listen, I don’t have much time. My blood

doesn’t let you forget. Keep remembering.” The shadows pulled on

him, swirling thicker and thicker. “Keep remembering. You witnessed

something, something important.” Only one eye showed through the

thick black cloud. “Don’t let me down.”

Neilan let go of Eldin’s wrists and disappeared, swallowed by

the shadows. A scream brought Eldin around, throwing knives leaping

to his fingers. With a quick glance at the location of the knights, he

chose his victims. Knives flung through the air. Three slammed

between the helmed knight’s eye slits. Two screamed, backpedaling,

and one slumped to the ground.

“Tak je,” he whispered, and the shadows brought him behind

the rest. With a flick of the wrist, he withdrew the knife at the small of

his back and stabbed a helmetless knight in the neck. A sword came at

him from his left, and he pulled the knife from the knight's body and

angled it so the sword deflected away from him.

Eldin kicked the knight in the knee and he staggered, giving

him enough time to pull the tie on his cloak and flip backwards over

another man coming from behind, enveloping him and pulling him

backwards with a crash.

“Look out!”

Eldin grabbed the empty chair next to him and twirled, cracking

it against the knight with the throwing knife stuck in his visor. He went

down on top of his comrade, whimpering and holding a hand to his

helmet. Muffled swearing came from the man stuck in Eldin’s cloak.

The townsfolk were slowly inching around the fight to the door.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Only Kera stayed in the tavern, picking up a fallen sword to help Eldin.

A brute broke from the group and went after her. She blocked the first

swing, but it knocked the sword from her hands and she stood

defenseless. Eldin ducked as a sword hissed over his head, signing as

he did so.

“Tsa’yr.”

Kera screamed as the knight raised his sword for a second blow.

As it came down, the shadows coalesced into a second Eldin, who took

the strike for her. The real Eldin winced and stumbled, feeling the pain

his doppelganger took, but it gave Kera enough time to push through a

door behind the bar and lock it.

Only five knights remained. They were the smarter of the

bunch, the ones who hung back to assess his fighting style. Now they

surrounded him, blades drawn, helmets dawned. Despite the pain, Eldin

stood tall, drawing his own sword. The blade was shorter and skinnier

than the typical one handed sword, made for defense, not battle.

“Leave now and you leave with your lives. Stay, and you won’t

leave at all,” Eldin said, his voice calm, commanding.

“This little Ghostie thinks he can beat all of us.” A tall knight

laughed. The circle took another step toward Eldin. He held his sword

at the ready, eyes tracking their movements. As he suspected, the first

attack came from his blind spot, directly behind him. The whoosh of

the blade through the air alerted him of the attack. Eldin stepped

forward, dodging the blow and coming face to face with a mustache

sticking from between the slits of a man's helmet.

The knight's eyes narrowed and he brought a fist into Eldin’s

stomach, except there was nothing but air. He had twisted sideways,

avoiding the fist, but now the rest of the knights swung their swords at

him. Pain burst on his right thigh and left shoulder as he was unable to

dodge the points of two swords.

With a sign and a word, Eldin shadowed from the middle of the

circle, leaving the knights fighting each other until they realized he had

vanished. By that time, a blade stuck from the armpit of one knight and

another’s knee shattered from a well-placed stomp.

The knight under the cloak finally freed himself, took one look

at the carnage, and ran out the front door. Seeing him run, three others

followed. The only one left was the tall knight who had assumed Eldin

couldn't beat them.

“Last chance,” Eldin said, pulling his sword from the downed

knight.

“I won’t run like a coward.” He lifted his sword. “Fight me like

a man. No shadowy shit.”

Eldin shrugged. “Your funeral.”

The knight attacked, rushing forward and screaming. Eldin

didn’t move until the sword was an arm’s length away. He flicked his

own upward, not catching the larger sword, but forcing it to slide off

and used its own momentum to swing much farther away than the

knight expected.

Eldin used the opening to drop to the ground and kick the

knight's feet out from under him. He crashed, armor denting against the

wooden floors. With a strike from the hilt to the knight's wrist, his grip

slackened and the sword clattered to the ground. Eldin kicked it away,

pulled the dagger he kept on his thigh, and slammed it into the knight's

palm, trapping it to the floor. The blue swirled hilt wiggled back and

forth as the knight screamed.

With a tug, Eldin pulled the helmet off the man's head. He was

younger than Eldin expected, around his same age, with long dark hair

and blue eyes filled with pain and rage.

“You chose the wrong tavern to mess with,” Eldin said,

stepping on the knight's other arm to keep him from removing the

dagger. “What’s your name?”

“What’s it to you?” The knight spit.

“Thought it might make the coming torture more personal.”

Eldin put his weight on the man’s arm. He grunted in pain, swallowing

the scream, but he couldn't hold back the fear in his face.

“What happened here?”

“Just trying to rid the realm of the likes of you,” he snarled.

“Good try.” Eldin reached down and twisted the knife. The

knight howled. “Try again.”

Sweat gleamed on his face, and he was panting, but said

nothing. Eldin shrugged, took his foot from the arm, and placed it

against the knight's neck instead, and slowly put pressure on it. The

knight grabbed his foot with his free arm, clawing at it, but try as he

might, Eldin wouldn't move. His face turned red, then purple as he

struggled for breath.

Eldin released the pressure, and the knight gasped for air.

“So?” Eldin raised an eyebrow.

“My name is Erik, son of Allyn.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Eldin purred. “And why were

you here?”

“We were just passing through. Sent from Kingston to keep the

peace.”

“You mean you are hunting for the missing prince.”

Sir Erik’s eyes widened a fraction, but he said nothing.

“Was the Ghost here when you got here?”

Sir Erik shook his head.

“He showed up after?”

He nodded.

“Tell me.” Eldin put the tiniest amount of pressure on Sir Erik’s

neck, but there was no need.

“He just showed up out of nowhere in the middle of the tavern,

screaming the name ‘Eldin.’ He was obviously out of control. We tried

to subdue him, but the tavern bitch gathered her friends and they

wouldn't let us.”

“By subdue, I assume you mean kill.”

Sir Erik’s silence was answer enough.

Eldin nodded, reached over and yanked the dagger from Sir

Erik’s hand.

“Get out of here,” Eldin said, stepping off the whimpering

knight.

Sir Erik scrambled to his feet, holding his hand to his chest and

not taking his eyes off Eldin as he stumbled backward through the

tavern and out into the night. Eldin wiped the blade clean on a fallen

knight's cloak and started the process of retrieving his weapons from

the bodies.

The door behind the bar creaked open and Kera’s huge brown

eyes stared out at him. When she saw it was safe, she flung open the

door and hurried out, face pale as she took in the bodies strewn about

the tavern.

“How are you still alive?” she asked, her voice strangled.

“Ghosts are extremely hard to kill,” Eldin said, replacing the

throwing knives in his wrist holsters and grabbing his cloak from the

floor.

Kera ran to the front door, locking it before turning back to the

bodies.

“I’ll take care of them,” Eldin said, noticing her gaze. “Just tell

me what happened.”

As he went around touching the bodies with the Rite, Kera

recounted her side of the events.

“The knights came in already drunk by the sounds of it, and

were going around to every table asking if anyone had seen a red-gold

haired man about twenty-four passes. Of course, no such man has been

through here, but they insisted on asking everybody. Then, out of

nowhere, that other Ghost appeared, right in the middle of the tavern.

He kept muttering your name and looking around. If you ask me, he

wasn’t all there, but he wasn’t hurting anybody, just looking for you. I

saw the knights eyeing him, so I called you right away, and when I came

back out, they were harassing the poor man. I got between them, and

the locals banded together to help me. That’s when you showed up.”

She said all this extremely fast, and in one breath.

The bodies dissolved into shadow at Eldin’s touch, quiet as he

lost himself in thought. His hunch about his memories going above

finding Rowan was right, but they must be connected somehow. And

Neilan was part of it all, too.

As he finished, he turned to Kera, who stood watching him,

wringing her hands.

“Don’t worry about the blood,” she said. “I’ll have the guys

come help me clean it. It’s not unusual to clean blood off the floor once

in a while. Although this much… I’ll owe them lunch for a week

straight.”

Eldin smiled beneath his mask. “Thank you for calling me.”

“No, no. Thank you for helping us. I hope the other Ghost was

able to tell you what he needed, the poor soul.” Kera walked up to Eldin,

reaching up to the messy bun on top of her head, plucked something

from her hair, and held out her hand. He reached out and she dropped

the object into his palm.

“I don’t have much to give in way of thanks, but please, take

this. It was my mothers, given to her by a boy whose life she saved, and

now I give it to you, for saving me and my tavern twice.”

Eldin held it up. It was a bead like the one Zinnia wore in her

hair, but this one was heavy, made out of a shiny, smooth black stone.

He felt the shadows in the tavern shudder and grow darker. Kera didn’t

seem to notice.

“It means more than money ever could,” Eldin said, closing his

fingers over the bead.

The grin on Kera’s face shone like the sun. “You know, I

thought you Ghosts were scary, but you aren’t so bad.”

Eldin ducked his head, and when he raised it again, he locked

eyes with her. “Some of us retain enough reason to continue being

decent, but not all of us. Do not assume every interaction will be the

same.”

Her smile faded, and she nodded solemnly. “Thank you,

Eldin.”

“I’ll always be one call away,” he said, flicking her a coin and

disappearing in a whirl of shadow.