Chapter Fifteen: The Tear Beneath the Mountain

Raimie

On the third day of our trip beneath the mountain, I’d begun to think that I’d made a mistake. For what had seemed like forever, we’d followed a set of mine tracks deep beneath the earth, and with each passing day, something distinctly dangerous had rippled through the group.

Without the crossing of the sun or moon across the sky, keeping track of time had been difficult. We’d had to rely on people with so-called ‘watches’ to decide when the group should make camp or march. Considering that these devices mostly existed among the Zrelnach, the few civilians who’d joined us had become disgruntled, which had only been exacerbated by their control of the group’s rations.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Shivering, I rubbed my arms, scanning my surroundings for the thousandth time. I didn’t know why I was doing this. The tunnel we were marching down, a square hole cleanly bored through stone, would never change, but even still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was stalking the group, something that would once more rip the rug out from under me.

A hand landed on my shoulder, and jumping, I spun to meet the amused gaze of my new friend.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” I hissed, “especially with everyone ready to snap right now.”

“Mm. True,” Rhylix said before going distant. “This tear’s aura of panic is strong. I’d say we’re within a day of reaching it. We’ll need to be careful with going forward.”

Was that why the group had been so jumpy? I’d thought it was just the unease of being buried beneath a mountain, but that belief seemed foolish in retrospect. For their whole lives, every resident of Allanovian had lived in caves. This trip shouldn’t be any different for them, no matter that I had a need to sprint, howling, back to the city.

“I’d been wondering about that,” I said. “All of them, including my family, have been acting…”

“A little crazy?” Rhylix said.

Shaking my head, I said, “More than a little. I’m not happy about our circumstances either, but they’re being unreasonable. Suspicious, irritable… it’s annoying.”

“That’s what tears do to most people,” Rhylix said with a shrug.

Halting, I eyed the other man.

“Then, why hasn’t it affected you?” I asked. “Hell, what about me?”

“Who knows?” Rhylix said. “Our world is terrible and strange. I stopped trying to explain it ages ago.”

With a sigh, I resumed my trek.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter why. We should count our luck that someone in this miserable group is keeping their head,” I said, “but you didn’t find me to listen while I ramble. Did you need something?”

“I’m playing fetch, as usual,” Rhylix said with a grin. “Eledis wants to discuss something with you.”

Clicking my tongue, I said, “Of course he does. Where is he?”

“I’ll show you.”

As we threaded through the Esela, I did my best to avoid jostling or otherwise startling them. I didn’t want a sword stabbed through my chest, and with the current atmosphere, not only did such unwarranted violence seem possible, I thought it likely.

The group’s march had slowed down, and people had started squabbling over where to lay their bedrolls. Despite this, a wide gap had been given to those in the lead.

With their campsite already arranged, Eledis and Ferin watched as the rest prepared for bed, tensely chatting, but they fell silent as Rhylix and I approached.

My friend practically skipped across the last few feet.

“One ‘insolent teenager’, as requested,” he chirped.

While Eledis glared at my friend, I fought to stay silent. My grandfather had called me worse names before, but hearing him chastised for his less than silver tongue threatened to send me into peals of laughter.

“Thank you,” Eledis said through gritted teeth. “You may relax for the evening.”

Rhylix looked to Ferin for approval, and when she nodded, he shrugged, clapping my shoulder as he left.

Watching him plunge into the group’s activities, I cursed under my breath. I kept meaning to ask him why he’d had Silverblade forged for me, but other tasks had pushed the question to the side, and when in my friend’s presence, I’d developed the irritating habit of forgetting about it.

It didn’t help that with my training on pause while beneath the mountain, I hadn’t gotten to spend much time with him. This continuation of my ignorance, however, had become a bother. I should fix it.

For now, though…

Rounding on Eledis, I asked, “Is dad scouting again?”

“Yes, he and his friends have gone ahead of us. I don’t like it. If unsupervised, Aramar’s likely to do something stupid,” Eledis said, “but that’s not why I asked for you.”

Really now? I would never have guessed.

Crossing my arms, I asked, “What can I do for you, grandfather?”

“You mentioned that you were willing to learn more about our world,” Eledis said.

“Yes?”

“After much deliberation, I’ve decided on a tutor for you.”

Eledis gestured at Ferin, who raised two fingers in the air, and I wordlessly stared. Was he serious?

“Forgive me for asking, but what can you teach me, commander?” I said. “I’d assume you’re well-versed in anything related to a fight but…”

Smirking, Ferin said, “I’m more knowledgeable than you might think, young warrior. Besides, your choices for a tutor are slim to none right now. If you want a head start on your education, you’ll accept what I have to offer.”

I didn’t know how to reply. Everything Ferin had said was logical, and for that alone, I should eagerly accept this proposal but…

“Eledis, may I have a private word with him?” Ferin asked.

“Why not? It’s not like you can murder him with so many witnesses nearby,” Eledis said, “and I’d rather get comfortable for the night anyway. A good evening to you both.”

He stomped toward his bedroll, and Ferin jerked her head toward an unoccupied section of the tunnel. When we reached it, she whirled on me.

“Say it,” she demanded. “I know it’s been on the tip of your tongue since your second trial, so come on. Ask your question.”

Could I speak what had been churning in my stomach for days?

But why wouldn’t I? Now that Ferin had asked me to speak, no social norms were keeping me from it.

“Why did you make me a murderer?” I said. “Rhy’s told me there are other options for a Zrelnach trainee’s trials, so why did you pick the one that you did? Were you simply that determined to see me fail? Why stain my essence as you have?”

As I’d spoken, Ferin had listened with the most serious of expressions, and at the end, she nodded.

“We did have other ways of test your claim to the Audish throne, yes. I wanted to use one of those for your second trial, but I was overruled,” she said. “In the end, I hope some good can come of it, despite how much I hate what happened to you. If you continue along this path, young warrior, you’d have become a murderer eventually. Best for everyone involved if you made your first kill in relative safety. And Raimie?”

As if afraid I’d attack her, she hesitantly rested a hand on my shoulder.

“However it might seem, whether because of my past decisions or what might occur in the future, the last thing I want is to see you fail. My dearest wish is that you will defeat Doldimar with as little trauma done to you as possible, all so you can claim the throne that’s rightfully yours. I need you to understand this.”

Swallowing my questions, I said, “I do. I hope you can understand that, despite my acceptance of your explanation, I may harbor ill-will toward you for a while yet.”

Drooping, Ferin let her hand drop from my shoulder.

“Of course. It’s only to be expected,” she said. “In the meantime, can we work together to prepare you for what’s coming?”

With a nod, I said, “I think that’s for the best, despite the arrangement’s difficulties.”

That perked Ferin up. Grinning, she extended her hand, and a book appeared in the air over it. After she’d caught it, she threw it toward me, and as I scrambled to keep it from falling, Ferin summoned more. Once she was finished, I was haphazardly holding three books, all while a part of me clapped with glee. Even after weeks spent in Allanovian, this had been the first time I’d seen an Eselan use their magic.

“Your assignment,” Ferin said. “Study the highlighted portions of those books. I expect you to have learned their principles by the time we reach the other side of the mountains.”

“That seems… manageable,” I croaked.

“Does it?”

Ferin tossed another summoned book my way.

“Take a fourth, then,” she said. “Good luck, young warrior.”

Humming to herself, she strolled to join Eledis in bedding down, and I released a long breath.

“She’ll be fun to work with,” I said to myself.

Yawning, I meandered between Zrelnach who’d already fallen asleep. Carefully crossing mine tracks, I found a cart sitting on them, and wedging my pack between it and the tunnel’s wall, I drew my knees up, flipping through one of the books.

Most of its text was underlined, but I didn’t think the marks would hinder me. Despite them, I should have the book’s contents absorbed into my mental index by day’s end tomorrow.

As I turned to the first page, scanning line after line, I reached into a pocket, making a face when I found it empty. I’d forgotten about using the last of Rhylix’s sleeping tinctures last night, and finding my friend to ask for more seemed like a hassle. I could deal with bad dreams for one night.

For now, my body and mind were buzzing with energy, so I tackled my assignment. I read for hours: through when my father and his scouting party returned, through when he checked on me, through when the rest of the camp fell still.

“I can’t believe you agreed to work with that woman.”

Glancing over the top of my book, I smirked at Bright and Dim.

“Hello, there,” I said.

Quietly, I set the book aside.

“How are you two feeling today?” I asked. “Any changes?”

Making a face, Bright said, “No, and there won’t be any until you’ve left the break in your reality behind.”

“That should happen soon,” I said. “Another couple of days at most.”

“Thank me,” Dim hissed. “Getting this close makes it difficult not to revert to zzz.”

With a buzzing growl, it strangled the air while Bright looked on with amusement.

“We could always return to fighting one another in our quest for his zzz.”

Snapping its teeth together, Bright clicked its tongue before buzzing a few garbled words.

“Hey! Don’t start bickering yet,” I said. “Who knows when today’s march will catch up with me? Let’s focus please.”

Sighing, Bright said, “Do you really want to tackle our communication hurdle again? It’s getting more dangerous for us to appear to you.”

Pausing, I narrowed my eyes at it.

“Dangerous how?” I asked.

“Let’s just say that if you call for us any closer to the break in your reality, something super fun might happen,” Dim said, bouncing in place.

When I looked at Bright for confirmation, it nodded with a look of distaste.

“Well, shit,” I said. “That would have been nice to know before we headed toward the tear.”

“We didn’t exactly get a chance to share before leaving Allanovian,” Bright grumbled.

And the beginnings of a fire in me were snuffed.

Making a face, I said “Fair. I’m sorry.”

Bright and Dim seemed confused by my apology, so I forged onward without waiting for their reply.

“If you might endanger the people around us, staying out of sight might be best for right now,” I said. “Can you appear to me when you think it’s safe, though?”

Giving an order to these two, even softly phrased as mine had been, made me want to squirm. Over the course of our nightly conversation, I might have grown more comfortable with these anomalies, but I still didn’t know what they were, besides incorporeal and mortal enemies.

“And we see sense in him again,” Dim said. “I wondered where it went.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Will you do as I’ve asked, then?”

“It’s a good idea,” Bright said with a pointed glare at Dim.

“Fine, fine,” it said. “Don’t get into trouble while we’re gone.”

“Thank you,” I told the empty air.

Sighing, I made myself comfortable, diving into the book again. Its words were beginning to swim in and out of focus, but surely, I could get a little further before-

“Hello?” I called into the darkness. “Are you there? I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

Glancing around the inky landscape I was lying on, I sought out the wraith, a tad concerned about what I’d find…

Holy shit, I’d moved my head! Laughing, I sent my hands—both of them—to my face, caressing my nose and cheeks and chin.

Damn, the wraith had made progress. Where was that disturbing man? I should thank him.

I found him lying beside me, curled into my side, and while such close proximity might normally have me shoving him away, something stopped me before I could lay a hand on his shoulder. A quiet, mewling whimper rose from the wraith, a horrible melody that raised goosebumps on my skin, and every so often, he jerked: frantic motions when compared to his shivering.

And of course, there were his staccato bursts of words.

“No- Please! Don’t- It hurts-”

Softly, I called, “Hey, everything’s all right…”

What was the wraith’s name? How did I not know it?

“Wake up.”

Reaching for the wraith, I ran a finger over the edge of his hood, and a bundle of black cloth surged off of the ground. A wail accompanied his skitter backward.

“Wait! It’s ok,” I shouted. “You don’t have to run. I won’t hurt you.”

With his burst of movement turning still, the wraith faced me, leaning back on his hands with his chest heaving.

“Of course not,” he panted. “You would never hurt me.”

Flipping to his hands and knees, the wraith crawled to me, and when he stopped at my side, he tucked his legs under him, clenching his hands in his lap.

“Apologies. I was not expecting you back for a while yet,” he said.

“Happy circumstance,” I said. “I didn’t have a sleeping tincture on me tonight.”

“Ah.”

The wraith said nothing more, and in the resulting silence, I shifted as much as I could.

“Forgive me, but… are you ok? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but that nightmare looked bad,” I said. “Ha! A figment of my mind having a nightmare in my nightmare!”

But still, the wraith didn’t speak. He didn’t even move to cut me free, as he had in the past. The silence quickly turned awkward, leaving me scrambling for something to fill it, but fortunately, the wraith soon broke it instead.

“Do you remember how long you have had this… nightmare?” he asked.

Strange question.

“Um…” I hummed, sucking on my teeth. “Years? I’m not sure how many.”

“Nine,” the wraith said. “You have been trapped here, screaming, and I have been stuck here, listening to your pain, for nine years.”

Well, that didn’t answer my question from earlier, but that was ok. If the wraith wouldn’t share his dream with me, I’d go with the topic he’d provided. For now.

“Oddly specific,” I said.

“Yes, well,” the wraith said, hissing a sigh. “They have been rather hard to forget. When you first spoke to me, I thought the shock of it would kill me, so sure was I that w… you would die like this. I wonder what caused the change.”

Distractedly, I walked my fingers along the ground, brushing against cloth every so often. The wraith had never sat this close to me before.

…I really should ask him for his name.

“It doesn’t line up perfectly, but perhaps it’s related to the other upheavals in my life,” I said. “We started speaking around the time that I found Shadowsteal, after all.”

Stiffening, the wraith jerked his hood toward me.

“Shadowsteal?” he hissed. “Ancient blade of the Audish royals?”

Hmm. Had details from the waking world filtered to this level of my subconscious?

“Yes?” I drawled.

“But that would make u… you the one foretold to free that land,” the wraith said.

Rolling my eyes, I turned away from him.

“That’s what everyone keeps insisting,” I said.

“FUCK!”

With a frown, I peered at the wraith, wincing at the sight of him. Hunched on himself, he had one hand pressed to his forehead, and with his hood having almost fallen away, he rocked in place.

“Oh, my gods, heart of my heart. We are dead,” he rattled off. “We are dead, and this GODSDAMN SPELL is keeping me from helping.”

…We?

No. I needed to calm this man—my only hope of leaving this nightmare—down. Stretching, I reached for the wraith’s hand. It had to be around here somewhere.

“You’re counting me lost quite quickly,” I said. “My people and I haven’t reached Auden yet. We don’t know what we’ll face-”

I grazed my fingers against flesh that wasn’t mine, and at that contact, all thought stopped while something essential zipped through me.

Instinct seized control. Despite the awkward angle, I took the wraith’s hand, and our fingers curled around one another. With the blush of dawn invading it, the ink-black tapestry overhead swirled, and sound entered this place through a filter.

Two children giggled together.

And ghostly fingers played over my cheeks, coming to rest along my jaw.

“I love you, Raimie.”

Despite the flood of bliss that had my body bucking against my bonds, I reached toward the sky. Invisible strands of hair tickled my palm as I slid it down, and my voice mixed with a matching one, coming from all around.

“I love you too, N-”

Shooting to his feet, the wraith hugged himself while teardrops fell to patter on my face.

“I… need a moment,” he said with a thick voice.

Spinning, he marched away, and with my throat closing, I followed his progress, unsure why I was flinging an arm after him.

“Please! Gods, please!” I cried. “Don’t- Don’t leave-!”

Stinging on my cheeks brought me to awareness, and as I shot upright, I swatted at what was holding me.

“I’m awake, damnit!” I growled.

Once I was released, I scanned a tunnel and a mine cart and my father while scrubbing at my eyes. With a frown, I pulled my palms away, cocking my head at the moisture found there.

Had I been crying? Why?

Shaking my head to clear it, I winced when I saw my father’s grim expression.

“Did something horrible happen?” I asked. “Or equally as bad, did I have a nightmare?”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Your screaming woke nearly all of the Zrelnach,” my father said.

“That explains the sore throat,” I said. “I don’t suppose you have a water skin for me, do you?”

As if expecting the request, my father extended the desired object to me, and while I guzzled from it, he offered me a hand up. How many times had we repeated this pattern for him to know its proceedings so well?

Lowering the water skin, I examined how many people were watching us. Too many, I determined.

“Bad one, then?” I asked.

Nodding, my father pointed at my feet, where the books that I’d been studying were scattered across the mine cart’s tracks. Wincing, I collected them, hoping Ferin wouldn’t be upset if I’d damaged any.

“You kept saying something between bouts of shouting. Something about needing to be free, but I woke you up before I could make it out,” my father said. “Did you remember anything this time?”

Sighing, I rubbed my temples.

“Nothing,” I said. “Same as always.”

“That’s a shame,” my father said with a sigh, “but perhaps it’s for the best. I’ll have Rhylix make you more of those fancy potions. In the meantime, we’ll have to hope that a day of normalcy will soothe the others’ unease.”

“Alternatively,” I drawled, “we could get me out of sight. Let me go scouting with you.”

Shifting in place, my father said, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We’ll probably run across the tear today, and while I may have gotten used to its affects during my training, you’ve never been near one. I’ll already have several people joining me this morning so-”

“What’s one more?”

With a nervous glance at the Zrelnach, I shoved books into my bulging pack.

“Besides, have I acted like most everyone else over the last few days?”

Expression dropped off of my father’s face as he wordlessly examined me.

“No,” he said. “No, you haven’t.”

“Great! Then, will you please get me away from these suspicious people?” I asked. “I can fix this disaster once we’re on the other side of the mountains.”

Glancing behind him, my father grimaced.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Are you ready to leave now, or do you need a moment?”

I shrugged the pack on my shoulder in answer.

“Follow me, then.”

Rather than heading into the mass of Zrelnach behind us, my father led me further into the tunnel. As we approached the spot where torches had yet to be lit, illumination gradually diminished, and at the line where shadows started forming, a group of four Esela, three of whom I recognized, was waiting. They were putting as much distance between themselves and the fourth person as they could, and as we approached, one of the three, Gistrick, brightened.

“Aramar!” he called. “Will you please tell this healer that he can’t come with us?”

Sighing through his nose, Rhylix shook his head above his crossed arms.

“Why not?” he asked. “I’m as proficient of a fighter as everyone here, have had no issues while traveling toward the tear, and can fix up the injured if we run into trouble.”

“Plus, I want him with us,” I said.

With his eyes widening, Gistrick blinked as if just now seeing me.

“Raimie, why are you here?” he asked. “You can’t-”

“He’s joining us today,” my father interrupted.

He stopped between the estranged parties while I kept quiet. For now, I was content to fade into his shadow.

Glancing at Rhylix, my father said, “You think this is a good idea? The tear-”

“Won’t affect me,” Rhylix said with a bright smile. “I’d like to keep an eye on my new… friend.”

After a sharp nod, my father jerked his head toward the darkened tunnel.

“He’s coming,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“But… Aramar!” one of the unknown women said.

Already striding into the dark, my father called, “I said let’s go, Aya.”

With many a grumble, the Zrelnach trailed after their friend while I hung back with Rhylix. The two of us strolled more slowly down the tunnel, and every so often, we watched the Esela ahead of us light the torches on the walls.

“Are you ok?” Rhylix asked. “Last night’s nightmare sounded much worse than the ones you’ve had before.”

“Maybe it was. I wouldn’t know,” I said with a shrug, “but yes, I’m ok.”

I refused to look at my friend, certain I knew what he was thinking. I’d had this conversation often enough to predict how it would go.

After a moment, Rhylix asked, “What do you mean ‘you wouldn’t know’?”

Sighing, I scrubbed at my face.

“I mean I don’t remember it,” I said. “The damn things have plagued me since I was a kid, and not once have I remembered what I was dreaming about.”

“Hmm. That’s unusual.”

Laughing under my breath, I said, “You’re telling me.”

Thankfully, Rhylix didn’t press the issue, not for a while at least. In silence, we hiked down an unusually smoothed path for what seemed like hours, and all the while, I struggled with how to ask the questions I had for my friend. Chewing on my lip, I listened to the chatter of the scouts ahead, considering where to start, but before I could decide, Rhylix stepped into our quiet.

“These nightmares…” he said as if musing. “I wonder if their strength is what’s had you blazing through my tinctures more quickly than you should. Did you know that the ones I’ve mixed for you are twice as potent as my normal dose?”

“Really?” I said, crinkling my brow.

That seemed odd.

Nodding, Rhylix said, “Indeed. The reason for it has puzzled me over the last couple of weeks. But why am I bothering you with this? It’s a healer’s concern.”

Should I tell him? Every time I’d brought this subject up in the past, it hadn’t ended well. In fact, those instances were the only times I could remember my father getting angry with me.

At the same time, seeing if this issue was as unnerving as my father had implied would be nice. Plus, I’d meant to tell Rhylix about it for weeks now.

“I may know why,” I mumbled, half-hoping my friend wouldn’t catch the words.

From the wrinkle of his face, that hope seemed dashed.

“You do?” he asked.

Nodding, I fiddled with my tunic’s hem with the ground having become my focus.

“So, I have this-”

Hell, what was the best way to describe it? Swallowing hard, I tried again.

“There’s a void inside of me, one I’ve had for years,” I said. “It’s not the typical emptiness that everyone gets throughout life, though. This is persistent, like someone’s taken hold of my essence and yanked a piece of it out and-”

Alouin, but it ached. It always did when I acknowledged it, but this time felt worse. Hugging my chest, I held an invisible, throbbing wound together.

“Years ago, I stopped telling dad about it because he doesn’t like hearing that it’s there. That’s why I haven’t spoken about it with you,” I said, “but anyway, I think it’s related to my nightmares. Lately, I’ve woken up from them, and I’ve- I’ve heard a voice in my head. It makes the hurt go away, which seems like an indication of correlation. At least to me. But what do I know?”

This was where Rhylix called me crazy. What else was he supposed to think after such an insane confession? Even my family had trouble accepting this part of me.

“Hmm. I’ve never heard of something like that before,” Rhylix said, “but that’s ok. Maybe together, we can figure out why this void is causing your nightmares. Or maybe it’s vice versa?”

He shrugged.

“I’m sure we’ll find out one way or… What is it?”

Several paces ahead, Rhylix was looking back at me, and jolted into my body by the question, I cleared my throat.

“It’s… nothing.”

Did my voice sound as tight to Rhylix as it did to me?

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Ok…” Rhylix said.

He resumed his hike, and after shaking myself, I hurried to catch up. When it came to this sense that I wasn’t whole, no one had taken me seriously. It usually got brushed off as youthful dramatics or something similar. But Rhylix…

Hell, I thought my eyes might burn to cinders in their sockets while that warmth seeped into my chest, but I couldn’t let Rhylix see how much his acceptance had affected me. What would he think after learning how extreme of a reaction I’d had? Would he pity me?

So, no. I’d keep this to myself, moving onto another topic.

“You never told me why you had Silverblade made for me,” I said.

Giving me a sidelong glance, Rhylix said, “What do you mean?”

“Before my second trial, you said you were giving me the blade for reasons that you’d discuss after I passed it,” I said. “Well, I’ve passed. So?”

Lifting his head, Rhylix suddenly seemed to find the stone above us fascinating.

“I’d hoped you’d forgotten about that, at least for a little while longer,” he said.

“Wha-?”

“Raimie! Rhylix! Get up here.”

Ahead, the tunnel widened, and at the mouth of this opening, the other scouts were waiting. Rhylix darted to meet them, and I narrowed my eyes, hoping he felt needles shooting into his back. My new friend was hiding something.

I didn’t like it.

When we’d joined the others, I took note of their foreboding expressions and silently sighed. Two days these people had encountered nothing on their quests into the dark, and something had come up on the day that I’d joined them. Of course. It was probably just the tear, which we’d expected, but still.

“We’ve reached the cavern that holds the tear,” Gistrick said.

Oh, goodie. I’d been right.

“From here on, we should stick together, otherwise the tear might have us doing… bad things,” Gistrick continued. “We should also send someone back to the main column, letting them know how far they are from this place. I’d volunteer Raimie and the heal- Rhylix for the job—”

Crossing my arms, I fixed the man with a flat stare.

“—but I get the feeling they wouldn’t let that happen,” Gistrick said with a chuckle. “Anyone else want the job?”

An unknown man raised his hand, and Gistrick nodded.

“Off with you, then. Aramar, am I forgetting anything?”

My father never moved from where he was staring into the black ahead.

“Whatever you do, don’t approach the tear,” he said. “I know that seems obvious, but we have newbies with us.”

“And you haven’t done this in a while,” Gistrick said.

Relenting in his challenge of the dark, my father faced us.

“No, I haven’t,” he said. “Raimie, it’s a straight sprint to the other side of the cavern, maybe half a mile’s distance. It shouldn’t take long, but do try to keep up.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Dad, who’s been running around the forest for the last few years, and who’s been busy with playing house?”

“Fair,” my father said with a wince. “Hopefully, we’ll get lucky, and the others will catch up with us before we’ve finished recovering on the other side. If things seem normal in the cavern, I’d rather not cross it for a second time.”

Gistrick pounded my father on the back.

“None of us would,” he said, “but come now. Let’s get this over with.”

Making a face, my father moved as close as he could to the dividing line between light and dark, and after the group had formed around him, we ran.

I’d been skeptical about a sprint through pitch-black, but once we left firelight behind us, the soft illumination that it had hidden came to the forefront. A flickering white light brushed along every inch of the cavern—its floor, rolling like hills, and its unnaturally smooth walls, marred only by a far-distant hole—but I wasn’t sure where it was coming from.

The change in my companions slipped beneath my notice until we were almost halfway across. My father and Gistrick seemed fine, although they’d gritted their teeth and hunched their shoulders, and Rhylix appeared the same, if with a slight weave to his step.

The other Esela, however, had me pulling closer to my father. They were muttering under their breath, jerking their eyes across the cavern, but more concerningly, they’d rested their hands on their weapons’ hilts.

“We’re getting close,” Rhylix said with his words slurred.

Following the line of his gaze, I found a corona of brilliant, white light capping a hill at our side. A sliver of black peeked between the stone’s crest and this arch, but before I could ask if what I was seeing was the tear, buzzing burst on my ears.

When I jerked toward the noise, my stomach fell through the floor. Several feet ahead, Dim and Bright had appeared, and they did not look happy with one another. Of course, they usually didn’t, but this was different. Watching them brought to mind an image of two armies lining up for battle.

Then, Bright opened its mouth, and the resulting screech echoed in the cavern.

Stopping short, I clapped my hands to my ears, cringing. Damn, that had hurt. A sharp sliver of ice had been driven through my ear and into my head, and as the noise continued, I almost crumpled to the ground.

“Son?”

My father’s voice sounded like it was coming through water, garbled and muffled.

“We need to keep going. Now, before-”

“There’s something in the shadows!”

An Eselan—Aya, I believed—had halted between Bright and Dim, drawing her sword as she spun.

“Don’t you see it?” she shouted. “How do you not see it? Unless…”

“Aya, calm down,” Gistrick said. “This is the tear talking.”

He moved toward the woman with his hands raised, and she wavered, lowering her sword with a question in her eyes. Seeing it, I let out a breath. I should deal with Bright and Dim before they made this situation worse.

Before I could decide how I’d do that without adding to the aura of insanity hovering over me since this morning, my anomalies resumed their screeching match, advancing on one another. As if in response, Aya snapped her blade back up, and Gistrick retreated toward my father.

“I hate to suggest it, but we should leave her here,” he said under his breath. “Once everyone’s on the other side, we can return for her.”

Perhaps Gistrick had been trying to stay quiet, but it hadn’t been enough. The second, unknown Eselan leapt away from us, bringing his weapon to bear as well.

“No Zrelnach leaves another behind,” he hissed. “How could you suggest such a thing?”

“He did what?” Aya growled. “Maybe I’m right, then. Maybe Doldimar’s swayed him… somehow. All of us know the stories of what that bastard can do, and with them here, Allanovian might have drawn his attention.”

“And who would have brought that focus here?” the second Eselan said. “Who’s been acting strangely since he returned?”

They turned on me, and around them, Dim and Bright ceased their bickering. Both of them looked my way, which was bad.

“He has acted nothing like the Raimie we knew,” Aya said. “Less of a ruthless edge.”

“What are you saying?” my father snapped.

He stepped between the Esela and me.

“Do you actually think Raimie could hurt people like you?” he continued. “That’s ridiculous.”

I didn’t know how these strangers could know me well enough to answer my father’s question, but when it seated doubt in them once more, I didn’t scrutinize it. Before my twins could cause more problems, I ducked around my father, hurrying to the instabilities in our midst with my hands raised.

“You have valid concerns, ones that we should discuss,” I said, “but let’s do so when we’re safe. Far from the tear.”

“He’s… right,” Aya breathed.

Beside her, Dim crossed its arms, inclining its head while it buzzed.

“But what if it’s not Raimie?” the unknown Eselan said. “What if it’s him?”

He pointed, and behind me, Rhylix released an exaggerated sigh.

“Hell,” he breathed. “Really?”

Bright started jabbering, marching toward Dim with a finger pointed in accusation.

“That would make sense,” Aya said. “Raimie’s been under his care since returning to us.”

“You’re…. right,” Gistrick said before violently shaking his head. “Aya. Dozat. We can’t discuss this here. This is the worst possible place to have an argument.”

“And I’d have noticed if Rhylix was manipulating me,” I say. “Stop this! I know Rhy’s not your favorite person, but this is ridiculous. Let’s stop shouting at each other and get somewhere safe.”

I glared at Bright and Dim while saying that last part, but they didn’t hear me. They circled one another with dusk and light in their hands, and seeing no change in them, a string of curses ran through my head.

“What's going on here?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I sucked in a breath. Another group was approaching us, and with blood draining from my cheeks, I angled my body so I could see both parties. One, my twins, was a known danger. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the other.

Ferin strode toward us with more Zrelnach behind her.

“Rhy?” she asked as she got closer.

Wincing, Rhylix closed one eye as if in preparation.

“The tear’s manipulating them?” he hesitantly said.

Spinning, Dim roared at Rhylix, and Bright took advantage of the opening, tackling its counterpart. Unlike with their other fights, they didn’t disappear after making contact, scuffling on the ground instead with many a scratch and bite.

“We’re not-!” Aya growled. “No. It doesn’t matter. All unknowns are a threat, especially the humans. We should kill them.”

“Excuse me?” Gistrick said.

But the other Eselan, Dozat, had no words like his ally. He raced for his closest perceived foe, and I backpedaled, drawing Silverblade. Unfortunately, everything I’d recently learned about fighting had fled from my head, so my sword was less than useless, and I didn’t know if I could run with an enemy this close.

“Fucking… gods… damnit!” someone shouted, getting steadily closer.

Dozat swung at me, and with a dry mouth, I raised Silverblade, unsure if I could block the strike. Something tugged on my tunic—

“Get behind me!”

—and as I stumbled away, I watched Rhylix bat Dozat’s blade aside before punching him in the face.

Spinning, he shouted, “Go! I’ll cover you.”

I didn’t think to question him. Finding the closest empty spot, I sprinted that way.

I didn’t know how no one landed a blow on me before I reached it, but soon, I shot out of a spreading pool of violence, stopping with my hands on my knees.

Gasping, I glanced over a mass of Zrelnach, fighting with civilians in their midst. At the center of this, my twins had yet to stop rolling on the ground, beating on one another.

They’d been right. Their presence had caused a disaster.

“Damnit, Bright and Dim,” I grumbled.

“Who’re Bright and Dim?”

Glancing up at Rhylix, I straightened.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Any ideas for how to stop this?”

Rhylix slowly shook his head.

“I’ve never figured out how to negate a tear’s influence. The only thing that works is moving away from it,” he said, “and I don’t see how we can get these people doing that.”

People who were slowly killing each other while Rhylix and I dithered.

“The tear’s causing this,” I said to myself.

If we couldn’t move away from it, could we move it?

No, that was ridiculous. It was a rip in reality.

But rips could be stitched together. Tears could be closed.

“Yes?” Rhylix drawled. “We’ve already established the cause of our crisis.”

Oh, this was a bad idea. I didn’t like thinking about what might happen to me if I followed through with it, but looking over the people fighting each other because of Bright and Dim, I knew I didn’t have a choice. If this continued for much longer, I wouldn’t have any allies to stand with me against Doldimar’s minions.

“This will get me killed,” I said.

“Will what now?” Rhylix asked. “Hey!”

But I’d already taken off, sprinting for the tear as fast as I could. If I went any slower, I wouldn’t outrun the terror fighting to overwhelm me, and from what Rhylix was shouting at my back, my friend might stop me too. So, I dashed over stone hills, only faltering when the tear came into view.

An oval almost as tall as me hung in a wide valley, hovering a handspan above cracked stone. Those cracks radiated outward from beneath it, and when I hit the first of these, I swallowed. Alouin, my eyes were so wide that they might pop out of my head.

The tear itself nearly sent me fleeing from it. A void—an ellipse made of a black so deep that it sucked light into it—sat in its center, and yet, a white glow danced around its circumference, defying what was trying to extinguish it.

Looking at this marvel, I thought I might be sick while my body protested something that should not exist, and I knotted my fingers in my hair, tugging on it. Something inside my head clamored to be released, reaching out for the tear in desperation, and I found my free hand lifting to match it.

I didn’t want to do this. It would kill me!

I needed to do this. “Can’t you hear the call of something… something…?”

The tear sang to me, and I brushed a finger against its inky—

—black. I was floating in nothing, a non-existent place that was so dark it reminded me of… somewhere else. I thought.

But this place was good. This was nice. This was ho-

A wash of images spilled through me, projecting into my vision. Snippets of people who looked nothing like me and places that couldn’t exist. Scenes of events that I could only watch with bafflement, unsure how their participants grew plants with the flick of a wrist or zipped across snow with only planks on their feet.

The deluge saturated my mind in what felt like seconds, but who could keep track of time in a place where nothing existed?

Nothing except the images.

And the voices.

They jabbered nonsense at me, words with no meaning and concepts that I could never understand, and with both streams of information pouring through my head, the accumulated pressure threatened to burst my skull into bits of bone and brain.

Why had I thought this was…?

When I screamed into oblivion, the heat of lightning, crackling inside my brain, boiled off as it left my tongue, but it kept building and building and building and building.

Until it stopped.

Limp, I let viscous liquid drizzle from my nose, trying to remember what I’d been doing.

“It’s him! Light, it’s actually-”

“That can’t be right. It’s not time… No, it IS right. Shit.”

“It’s him, it’s him! The successor!”

What… was this? It seemed like the voices from before had focused. Yes?

But if they could do that, did that mean something sentient lay behind them?

“We should kill him now. Stop Alouin’s future before it comes to pass.”

“No! Of the seven, he’s the one most essential to us, especially if we want to get rid of THEM.”

“So, do we…?”

I couldn’t listen to their nonsense.

Coughing, I rasped, “Help me. Please.”

And a million-million voices coalesced to ask.

“Would you like to make a deal?”

A… deal?

“What would be the terms?” I asked.

“Well, that would depend on what you want now, wouldn’t it?”

Of course it would. I was such an idiot, just as the voices had said.

Had they said that?

But, no. What was it that I wanted? I could swear I’d known a minute ago.

“I need to close a… tear,” I gasped.

Oh, the pressure in my head was mounting again. It was going to kill me. It would!

Laughter burst into the void, discordant and rankling, and with each bounce of it, multi-colored spheres blinked in and out of existence. There were so, so many of them, spreading in every direction, and sluggishly, they drifted around me. Transfixed, I reached for one, but before I could touch it, the voice’s merriment abruptly ceased, and the spheres disappeared.

“You want to close a rip in reality? Oh gods, earth and fire, Sgaradh, light! We’ll need no payment for a request like that. Watching you try will be recompense enough.”

The voices fell silent, and I hissed at the bloom of an ache in my skull.

“So… help?” I said.

“Right. You need us to tell you. Ok. Reach out, Raimie. Feel what’s around you. Then, share what you find with us.”

What was around me? Nothing was around me, not even the spheres anymore!

But… I couldn’t afford indignation or doubt, so I did as the voices had asked. Closing my eyes, I stretched out my senses, paying attention to what they might tell me, but there was nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing-

Wait.

Yes, nothing lay in the void but BEHIND it…

A war. A never-ending struggle. A push and pull. Life versus Death. Perpetuation versus Disintegration.

“Order versus Chaos,” I said.

I’d felt something like this before, hadn’t I? When Dim and Bright had showed me their true forms.

“Hmm. Such powerful aspects you’ve attracted, but it makes sense. You are the successor, after all.”

“Great. I’ve found something that I don’t understand in a place I have yet to wrap my head around,” I growled. “How does that help me close a tear?”

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stay here. Not that I knew how to leave.

“So impatient. Very well. Do you feel the energies coming from Order and Chaos?”

Energies? What did that-?

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Draw those energies to you, blend them, and feed them to the reality rip. Once that’s done, it will be done. Your answer, Raimie.”

That sounded simple enough. Well, simple, even if I had no idea how to do the individual parts, but I wouldn’t get much more from the voices, and I had one vitally important question left.

“Thank you,” I said. “I was also wondering… how do I get home?”

The void hiccupped, and I could swear that the voices were staring at me with tilted heads, even having no bodies as they did.

“What does he mean ‘home’? Is he not already…?”

“Ohhhh. He means the Auden iteration. That makes sense.”

“Silly child doesn’t know yet.”

“What?” I yipped.

“Until next time, successor.”

“Wait. No!” I shouted.

Please, not another—

—mystery of the tear drew me in, even as I screamed my voice raw, and somewhere far away, someone called my name. I couldn’t pay these things any mind, though. I had to finish what I’d started before the unknown turned my brain to mush.

What had the voices told me to do? Call on energy?

Reaching for what I’d found, I drew threads of Chaos and Order from the tear, gathering them into separate bundles. They repelled each other, to the point that it threatened to rip me in two, and I knew of only one way to stop it.

Forcing them closer, I wove the edges of those energy together, no matter how loudly they squealed in protest. I would amalgamate them. They would fucking blend, damnit!

And they did. And I was whole.

Well, nearly whole. Nothing could fill the piece of my essence that was forever lost.

Still, I’d never experienced a greater sense of peace in my life, and as I clutched it to my chest, the idea of releasing it made me recoil, almost removing my touch from the tear.

“Raimie, let it go now!” someone roared in my ear.

Why should I care about what Rhylix said? This peace was mine. Mine, mine, mine, and Rhylix…

Rhy. My father. Eledis. They were trapped in conflict, and as long as I hoarded this harmony to myself, they’d stay there until they died.

Oh… oh, oh, oh… this wouldn’t be fun.

Taking a deep breath, I unleashed my combined energy… Balance… onto the tear, and it wavered.

I might have seen more of this if returning strife hadn’t had me curling on myself. Every fragment of thought and effort went into pouring peace out of my body, and as the last drop was wrung from me, something in my core wrenched.

Falling to my knees, I swayed in place with the cavern’s sudden darkness matching my spirit. Oh, Alouin. Something was wrong with me.

Someone shook me, saying my name. I couldn’t be bothered to answer.

Because something was wrong.

A warm hand led me along. Bitter liquid flowed into my mouth, and my jaw was held closed until I swallowed. Scratchy fabric settled over my body, and words were spoken in tight voices.

Couldn’t they see? SOMETHING WAS WRONG!

But no one noticed, so I huddled beneath the surface, licking the wound on my mind like a dog. I was content to stay here. What was the point in returning to the world?

“Did we…?”

A cough interrupted the question.

“Did that break him?”

“If anything could, it’d be trying something so stupid.”

A different tone, a different person.

“Impressive but very, very stupid.”

I knew those voice.

Rushing to the surface, I jumped to my feet, spinning on Bright and Dim.

“What the fuck was that?” I shouted.

The anomalies flickered, there and gone again faster than I could keep track. Their clothes had turned ragged, and they’d shed patches of their skin, revealing limbs of light and shadow.

What had happened to them? They looked horrible.

Wait. Why did I care?

“We were taking a path beside something that’s known to drive people mad, and you started a fight? Are you kidding me?”

Cringing, Bright said, “We didn’t have control-”

“I don’t give a damn about your control,” I said. “You don’t endanger people over petty disagreements!”

As I took a step forward, Dim slid in front of me, raising a hand.

“If I may,” it said.

“I’m not finished,” I snapped. “From the way you’ve treated me, I know you want something from me. I’m not an idiot. If you’d like me to give you whatever it is, I. can’t. be. dead.”

I jabbed a finger into their faces. Their first appearance during the Zrelnach trials had almost got me skewered and now this? It was too much.

“An efficient way to keep me alive would be to STOP TRYING TO KILL ME!”

As this roar faded into the night air, it left Bright and Dim watching me like one would with a crazed animal. I couldn’t bear to look at them.

“Get out of my sight,” I growled.

They hesitated with their guttural flickering growing erratic, so I took a step forward, almost merging with their bodies.

“I said get out of my sight!”

With a pop, the anomalies disappeared, revealing the host of people behind them. They were standing or lounging several feet away from me, but the tree branches, stifling moonlight overhead, did nothing to hide how every eye was turned my way. Crackling flames filled a deep silence, and with panic singing in the back of my mouth, I took a step away.

And another. And another until a tree trunk hid me from view.

Gasping, I leaned on one knee while my eyes jumped across the forest floor.

They’d seen me screaming at thin air. What in the void would I do?

From the side, somebody took hold of me, and I tensed, reaching for a weapon. Any weapon.

“You’re back,” my father breathed into my hair. “You’re ok!”

I held still while he squeezed me. I didn’t know why I was still getting ready to defend myself, but I wanted him to release me. How did I ask for that, given how pleased he seemed?

“Dad…” I pushed through my throat.

It was my father’s turn to go stiff. Prying himself off of me, he retreated with his hands raised. Why was he acting so cautiously?

“You need time alone, don’t you?” he asked.

Why would he think-?

Without my permission, my head jerked in a nod.

Deflating, my father said, “All right. I’ll give you space if you’re ok. You are, aren’t you?”

Was I?

“I… think so,” I said.

“Ok, then. I’ll smooth the Zrelnach’s ruffled feathers,” my father said. “Good night, son.”

I didn’t have the energy to reply. Slamming my back into a tree, I slid down it, peering at the canopy above. Why did I feel so drained?

Tree limbs swayed, leaves rustled, and after a time that I couldn’t measure, footsteps crunched to a stop in front of me.

“That was a decent speech you gave.”

A speech? Was that how my angry rant had been taken?

“Rhy,” I sighed.

The shadow shrank, and when a flame burst to life between us, it outlined my friend’s serious features.

“Will I have to fix you up again?” he asked.

Coughing a laugh, I shook my head.

“I’m just tired,” I said. “Will probably get some sleep soon.”

“Can I stay with you?” Rhylix asked. “Your father mentioned that you needed solitude, but you have an unnatural tendency to attract trouble, my… friend.”

Why did Rhylix always sound so surprised when he said that word?

“I don’t mind,” I said.

I’d hate to disappoint my father with this weakness but Rhylix? He’d seen me at my worst. What was another instance of it?

Settling on the ground nearby, he extinguished his summoned flame.

“I thought you despised magic,” I said.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t use it when I have to.”

Alouin, such disgust. Snickering, I sank further into the fallen leaves.

“I have so many questions for you,” I said, “but I’m so-”

A yawn nearly cracked my jaw in half, which had Rhylix softly laughing.

“Sleep, Raimie,” he said. “Your questions can wait until tomorrow.”

“Including the one about Silverblade?” I asked.

Shifting in place, Rhylix said, “Yes. Even that one.”

“That’s… good. The question’s… been on my mind… since you-”

The wraith hovered over me with his shadowed features twisted, and warm skin was circled around my neck, although this hold hadn’t tightened.

“What did you do to us?” the wraith shouted.

Someone was about to strangle me? I should be frightened by this.

But I wasn’t.

Raising an eyebrow, I said, “Us?”

Jerking away, the wraith retracted his grip, grazing his knuckles on my chest.

“You… do not feel it?” the wraith said. “The burn in your being, the diminishment?”

“No…” I drawled.

“You have no idea what you did.”

With a sob, the wraith clapped his hands to his face.

“Of course you do not. Why should I have expected any differently?”

His shoulders shook, and hesitantly, I took hold of his wrist.

“Hey,” I said. “Everything will be ok.”

Exploding off of me, the wraith towered over my body, and with a foot planted on either side of my chest, he shoved a finger in my face.

“You always say that,” he shouted, “but it will not be ok. It will NEVER be ok, Raimie. You forgot me for nine years! How could you?”

Frowning, I dragged my head along the ground, cocking it.

“Forgot you?” I asked. “Did we know one anoth…?”

The memory of my last visit here filtered through the cracks, and with its repeat, I sucked in air, but the wraith didn’t notice. He stretched his arms toward me as if to strangle me again.

“You see? DO YOU SEE?” he growled. “When you started talking to me, I thought things would get better, but it has only gotten worse. Just… go to sleep, Raimie.”

Swooping toward me, the wraith touched my forehead, and I frantically reached for the one who echoed my emptiness.

“Wait! I-”

Claws dragged me into dreams.

My dreams held only nightmares.