14 Years Ago…

The darkseason was in full swing now. Shadow covered every wall, blackened every garden, seeped into every room.

For once, it felt fitting.

Eyes fixed on the cement floor beneath him, Perelor made his way through the city, grateful for the blazing electric lights above him, so that he didn’t have to look up. At least with his eyes facing downward, he couldn’t see the people staring at him. He could still feel their eyes on his back, but there was nothing to be done about that anymore.

It had been two weeks since Eliel’s declaration, and yet those two weeks had felt longer than all the rest of Perelor’s young life. He’d spent as much of them as he could holed up in his room, begging his father to let him stay home from school. For two weeks, his father had relented. Today, though, he’d finally put his foot down.

And so, Perelor was outside again. With the people, and the staring.

It was raining, and the murmur of the water against the cement kept him from hearing the whispers he knew followed him. Shivering, Perelor finally arrived at the door to his school, and he ducked inside.

“You alright kid?”

Frowning, Perelor looked up. He was greeted by a face with a grizzled beard.

“Dromidius?”

The man shrugged. “Your dad said you’d just left. Said you were nervous, so…” He shrugged again, then laid a hand on Perelor’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright, kid. Always is.” He smiled. “Trust me.”

Perelor shook the hand off. “Thanks. I guess.” He walked away, heading for the nearest elevator; his school was on the highest floor of this building.

“Hope conquers fear,” Dromidius said behind him. “Remember that, kid.”

Yes. Now of all times, I absolutely want to remember a phrase from the Wars of Endowment. That’s exactly what I want, Perelor thought bitterly. But he just stepped inside the elevator, and let the doors shut behind him.

He was alone, and he ascended in silence, the mechanics of the lift whirring softly above him. He closed his eyes, letting the rainwater from earlier slowly drip from his hair and down his cheeks. Like tears from the heavens, given to him to cry.

“Why?” he whispered. “If you really exist Okron, why this?”

It was a question he’d asked several times over the past two weeks. As usual, he received no answer. The door to the elevator opened. Sighing, Perelor wiped the rainwater — and tears — off his cheek, then steeled himself and stepped through the halls toward his classroom.

If there had been eyes on him outside, now it seemed Etheri herself had turned her gaze on him. The whispers were everywhere, too, audible in the tight corridors.

“Did you hear what happened?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“His sister can burn Void. Do you think he’ll go insane, too?”

“It doesn’t work like that, I don’t think. His father is a madman, though, I hear.”

Don’t you dare, a part of Perelor thought. Don’t you dare insult him. Don’t you…

And yet, he’d been questioning his father every step of the way through this. He kept silent, and kept his eyes down, praying no one would notice him.

That prayer, it seemed, was in vain. He was only halfway to his classroom when a hand shoved him violently into the wall.

“You. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Perelor looked up, expecting to see Sekhen, but it wasn’t. In fact, he didn’t recognize the face that greeted him at all — though the other boy clearly recognized him. The fury in his eyes was not something one earned by just standing there.

Perelor tried to fall into a defensive stance, but before he could, a hand lashed out, pinning him to the wall. He thrashed, but the other boy was far more muscular than he, and he couldn’t get away.

So, steeling himself, he met the boy’s eyes.

“What do you want?”

“What I want is to strangle your sister with my bare hands,” the boy hissed. “But I’ll have to settle for you.” He pressed harder against Perelor’s chest. Perelor’s eyes darted around the hall. Drone cameras stared at him. People stared at him.

No one helped.

“Why?” Perelor wheezed.

“Why? Do you have any idea the uproar you and your searing father have caused? Confederacy soldiers, everywhere. Everywhere!” He leaned in close. “They dragged my mom off to Raerok. I can’t bring her back, but you can sure as Torment bet I’ll…”

“Enough!”

Another voice broke the crowd. Perelor turned, expecting to see a teacher. To his surprise, he saw Sekhen walking toward them, a grim expression on his face.

The boy raised an eyebrow, temporarily releasing some of the pressure on Perelor as he turned toward Sekhen. “You want to make this your problem, vret?”

Sekhen responded by walking forward, then decking the boy in the face. Yelping, he stumbled back, releasing Perelor, who sucked in a needed breath. The boy growled, pulling back a fist and swiping at Sekhen, but Sekhen dodged the blow, then lashed out with his leg, tripping the bully and sending him tumbling to the floor. The boy groaned, then yelped again as Sekhen kicked him in the ribs, then turned to Perelor.

“C’mon.”

Perelor hesitated. What was this all about?

The boy stirred beneath Sekhen. Looking down, Sekhen kicked him again. “I’d lay low if I were you,” he whispered. He turned back to Perelor. “C’mon. We’re late to class, you know. Jelador won’t be happy.”

Perelor frowned. “You… why?”

Sekhen paused, face falling a bit. “We can talk later,” he sighed. “For now, let’s leave.”

Hesitantly, Perelor followed Sekhen, who acted like a bodyguard as they walked the rest of the way to their class, glaring at anyone who stared too long at Perelor — and that meant a lot of glares.

No one bothered them further than stares, though, and they slipped into the classroom only a few minutes later. Eyes flickered to Perelor again, but Jelador, prim as always, snapped his fingers, calmly ordering the class to pay attention, and the eyes moved back to the lecture. Perelor didn’t miss the frown that crossed Jelador’s face as he walked in, though.

There were only two seats open, in the back, next to each other but not to anyone Perelor was familiar with. Hesitantly, Perelor sat down, and Sekhen plopped down on the seat next to him. Perelor glanced at Jelador, ensuring the man was caught up in his teaching, then turned to Sekhen, leaning toward the other boy.

“What are you doing? I thought you hated me.”

Sekhen’s face was suddenly torn, though he quickly hid it. “We’ll talk later.”

Cause that clears so much up, Perelor thought bitterly. But Sekhen quickly looked away, up to the front of the class, and, sighing internally, Perelor followed. It could’ve been worse, he supposed. Sekhen could’ve just helped the other boy beat on him.

Class went surprisingly normally. Perelor was startled by how much that bothered him. A part of him, it seemed, wanted nothing more than for everything to return to how it had been. Yet another part of him wanted to tear Jelador’s hair out as he lectured them on thruster designs. Didn’t he know how much had changed? Didn’t he see the worlds falling apart?

But Jelador was just doing his job, and the occasional glance or whisper from the other students was enough to remind him of the chaos still transpiring. So he kept his eyes firmly on the teacher and the holoprojector behind, trying his best to focus on the rocket theory at hand.

Okron, he hated rockets.

Finally, after what seemed half an eternity of numbers, symbols, and Sekhen shifting uncomfortably beside him, school ended. Immediately, the other students stood, snatching up bags and leaving. Most didn’t even look at Perelor as they did; hours of math had bored them enough to forget the matter.

Sekhen was one of those who grabbed his bag, and, pointedly looking away from Perelor, he started walking for the door. Before he could get far, though, Perelor stood, grabbing his shoulder and meeting his gaze.

“Why?” he hissed.

“Does it matter?” the other boy mumbled. He had already looked away from Perelor.

“Everything else is falling apart for me,” Perelor said. “If you’re going to start going crazy, too, I’d at least like to know what’s going on.”

Sekhen hesitated, drew in a deep breath, then finally met Perelor’s eyes. “I did it because I wanted to. Me.”

“Why though?”

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“Because…” he sucked in another breath. “Because sear my parents. The night it happened, they kept yelling and screaming, and yelling and…” Tears suddenly began rolling down the other boy’s face. “And sear them!” He broke off his gaze again, striding for the door. Again Perelor caught him.

This time he, too, hesitated, hardly able to meet the boy’s eyes. How long had they been enemies? Perelor couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t been.

And yet, those tears…

“Hey. We can be friends, you know.”

“I… I know. I didn’t, but…” Sekhen sucked in a shaky breath. “I can’t keep doing what they want. I can’t.”

“I understand that.”

Sekhen snorted. “You don’t. Your dad is searing wonderful.” His voice softened. “But thank you.”

Perelor forced a smile. “They didn’t even talk to you about kicking that kid.”

“Should they have?” Sekhen, too, smiled. It looked forced, though Perelor suspected his own grin looked the same.

“Naw. Unless they wanted to know what it felt like to kick a Voidling.”

“Amen to that.”

Perelor paused, then cleared his throat. “How soon do you usually get home from school?”

Sekhen’s expression soured. “Whenever I feel like it. They don’t searing care.”

Perelor grinned, far more sincerely this time. “If they don’t searing care, what do you say we go to my place for a bit?”

Sekhen hesitated, conflict flashing across his face again, for a long moment.

Then he nodded. “I think I’d like that.”

***

Several hours after school, and long after Sekhen had left Perelor’s house to return to his own, Perelor stepped out of the washroom, white pajamas on, still damp from the pressure washer. Yawning, he opened the door, then froze.

Eliel was waiting there, which wasn’t unusual for this time of day. However, her eyes were bloodshot, and she was trembling.

She looks on the verge of an episode. Perelor tensed, but forced himself to relax; he saw no red light around her.

“Hey,” Eliel said. Her voice was hoarse.

Perelor grunted. “Hey.” He walked past her.

“I’m sorry,” Eliel said behind him. “I didn’t mean for this to be so…”

Perelor whirled. “So what?”

Eliel wilted.

“Say it,” Perelor snapped. “I want to hear you say just how ludicrous this all is.”

In the other room, something creaked. Perelor’s father, probably, coming to resolve this, but in that moment Perelor didn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” Eliel whispered.

“Being sorry doesn’t make it better.”

“And your anger will not take the scar off her skin.”

Perelor winced, turning around to see his father standing in the hallway, arms folded, lips pursed.

“I’m sorry,” Eliel repeated. Her eyes were on Rion now, but Rion held up a hand to silence her.

“This isn’t your fault.” He sighed. “It’s none of our fault, really.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Perelor growled.

Rion raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think getting angry at your sister — or me, for that matter — will somehow change everyone’s opinion?”

“No. Because they’re searing right!”

“Are they now?”

Perelor’s eyes darted between the two of them. His father, leaning against the wall, his eyes so firm. His sister, trembling, slouching. Finally, he leaned in toward Eliel.

“You don’t honestly think you’re… you’re…” Okron, he couldn’t even say it. “That you’re that?”

Eliel winced, shaking even harder for a moment. Then, closing her eyes, she let out a deep breath, then reopened them.

“I am what I am.”

“She burned all Three Powers,” Rion noted. “And you’ve seen the scar now.”

“That means nothing. The Six had the scar!”

“The Six were liars. Do you think I’m a liar, son?”

Perelor hesitated. No. No, I don’t.

That’s what scares me.

He should’ve said it. Should’ve apologized. Instead, he just growled, then stormed off to his room, diving into his cot, slamming his pillow into his face.

His father did not follow. Anger quickly turned to exhaustion, and sleep came.

At least, it came for a little while.

***

Perelor awoke to screams.

He didn’t recognize them at first, instead rolling over, wondering why his nightmares continued. He pressed his face harder into his pillow as the shouts grew louder, then, groaning, he finally stood, legs trembling from tiredness.

And the screams did not stop. In fact, Perelor could hear the words now.

“Dad! Help! HELP!”

Tiredness fleeing instantly, Perelor rushed to the door of his room, throwing it open. He dashed across the tile hallway, following the sound until he arrived at Eliel’s room. He threw open that door, then froze.

Black mist, that somehow glowed with an ethereal darkness, filled the room, most of it grouped into thin tendrils, like snakes of light. Two of those tendrils pinned Eliel to the floor, who, aglow with white Purity, was desperately trying to bat them away, the black mist sizzling wherever she touched it. Within the darkness, two red, beady eyes glowed. As Perelor stopped in the entryway, they fixed on him.

Who are… ah. The boy. Oblivion told me you would come…

The voice echoed in Perelor’s mind. In his very soul; fear filled him, down to his bones, and he stumbled backward, screaming at both the strange sight and the otherworldly sensation. He could only tremble as a tendril whipped toward him, slamming into his head, sending his skull crashing into the wall.

He fell to his knees, scream ceasing, head ringing. The tendril twisted around, slamming into his gut, and he doubled over, sinking to the floor.

I cannot kill you, the Voidling hissed. Oblivion was very explicit about that. But all the same I will enjoy making you suffer…

“Be gone, fiend!”

Perelor’s vision swam with black dots, but he recognized his father’s voice, and the black dots subsided as blue light washed over the corridor. Groaning, and gripping his still-aching stomach, Perelor hauled himself up into a sitting position, his vision clearing just enough that he could see his father, holding a blue Surge in front of him as he stalked toward the Voidling. His skin was already filled with azure Ever.

Where did he get that? I thought he hated using the Powers…

The Voidling’s two red eyes fixed on Perelor’s father. It waited for a moment, tendrils hovering in the air, foreboding, but hesitant. Then it chuckled, a metallic grating sound that echoed in Perelor’s skull.

You think that is enough to stop me?

“Begone!” Perelor’s father shouted again. He raised his Surge higher. He was trembling.

Okron, he was trembling. And if he was scared…

Torment. We’re going to die. I’m going to die…

The Voidling just chuckled harder. The sound felt like someone was slashing Perelor’s ears. Tendrils flew forward towards Perelor’s father. He snarled, burning Ever, and plasma crackled through the air, incinerating the tendrils, but more continued to race towards him. Growling, Perelor’s father drew in more Ever from his Surge, then lashed out with even more plasma, burning nearly all of his Ever at once to send a wave of heat rolling down the corridor. The tendrils puffed away, and the plasma slammed into the Voidling’s main body. Mist hissed as the Powers struggled against one another, and nearly the entire hallway was filled with blackness.

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Perelor’s father’s glow was almost gone now, and sweat beaded on his brow.

But he killed it, Perelor thought. We’re safe. Coughing, he stumbled to his feet.

Then froze as two red eyes blazed back to life.

Perelor’s father cursed — one of the few times Perelor had heard him swear. He burned the last of his Ever, sending a bolt of plasma racing towards the two red eyes, but a tendril twisted, blocking the blow. A second tendril lashed out into his chest, throwing him backward and against the wall. There was a loud thud as his head slammed into the plaster, and then, groaning softly, he slumped down to the floor.

“Dad!” Perelor immediately fell to his knees beside his father, reaching out to check his pulse, but before he could, the very tendril that had incapacitated his father latched onto Perelor’s torso. Breath fled his lungs as he was yanked backward, dragged against the floor and toward the Voidling’s red eyes.

No. No. No! He thrashed violently. The movement was useless; he didn’t know how to fight this creature, and the panic rising in his chest kept him from thinking straight enough to form a plan.

Pain spiked up his leg as it rammed into the side of Eliel’s doorway. He screamed. “Help! Help!” He didn’t know who would even come, but it was all he could think to do. In his peripheral, he could see Eliel, encased in makeshift titrite, a hole in the wall behind her. Tendrils slammed into the armor, over and over. It was beginning to crack. Another tendril squeezed around Perelor’s neck, and his shouts ceased; he could hardly draw breath now.

Oblivion doesn’t want you dead, the Voidling mused. But your sister…

Eliel’s titrite helm exploded as five tendrils at once smashed into it. She yelped, holding up her hands to shield her head. It was no use; the tendrils snatched her arms, prying them away from her skull, and another tendril snaked toward her neck…

No. No no no no…

He screamed. It came out as a rasp through the tight pressure on his throat, but he couldn’t contain it. He would not let his sister die!

Endowed or not, he realized, she’s still Eliel. No!

And something snapped into place within him.

Memories flashed through his mind. Visions of the first time he’d held a sword. Of his mother, who had died years ago, holding him. Of his sister, sticking to his side the first time they’d gone to school.

His whole life flashed before him, all at once, everything laid bare. He trembled for a moment at the sheer clarity of it.

And then, as quickly as they’d come, the memories burned away. For a moment, time held still.

Then Perelor exploded with blue light.

It raced through his veins, then blazed into his skin. The entire room was suddenly aglow with an azure warmth that made the Voidling’s red eyes look like barely a candle flame. It screamed.

THEY SAID YOU WERE NOT READY YET! THEY SAID…

The Voidling’s shouts turned into muffled screams as Perelor, acting on instinct he didn’t know was there, threw his hand forward, mentally willing the Ever — for, though he wanted to deny it, he knew it could only be Ever — outward. Astonishing heat ignited in front of him. The black mist hissed away, and the Voidling’s red eyes went dim. Flames washed over Perelor.

The last thing he saw before unconsciousness overtook him was Eliel, staring at him, jaw open in unconcealed awe.