Chapter 40 - A Loss of Faith

With hands tucked under the back of his head, Adam lay on his makeshift mat. He stared at the dark ceiling of the tunnel and the shapes of ivy, trying to convince himself that talking with Oliver would be for the best. Judging by Emily’s soft snores and the small twitches in her legs, she had fallen asleep already. As Oliver had taken the first watch near the fire, it was the perfect opportunity for Adam.

He looked reluctantly at the dark shape of his friend’s back and rubbed the scars on his wrist. Here goes.

When Adam approached, Oliver looked up from staring at the fire with a sad, worried expression. “Can’t sleep?” he whispered with a smile.

Adam shook his head. “I noticed we had some, err… different opinions on Instinct. Would be better if we talked about it while we’re not in combat, eh? I always find an enemy who’s ready to pull our heads off kind of distracting during ethical discussions.”

Oliver didn’t laugh. “You already know my point of view,” he said with a sombre undertone in his voice. “Don’t get me wrong, I applaud your analysis of this Realm of Remembrance and this third type of sorcery. Although I’m not sure about Aves’ point of view on it, I’ve never heard it was Forbidden. What you do helps us to understand what we’re dealing with and get out, hopefully. But why waste your time and effort on the Forbidden Arts?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ve no choice but to use Instinct around here. Every day we discover more things and beings here that could kill us. If what the Thaler mentioned is true, our combined strength is insignificant to the sheer number of their forces, the Corrupted, and the Roots. We need everything we have to survive, and the advantage that Instinct gives me in combat is simply too large to ignore. As for the afterlife; if the Starwing Order’s is correct in that I’d suffer… Well, I’d rather be damned than let Eric stay in Caine’s claws.” Adam thought about their discussion concerning the Thaler and Oliver’s point that during a war, one can’t afford to lose strategic advantages. Hmm, better not bring that up yet. “Furthermore, this ability of beings like Schultora and Osaehin, who are linked to Instinct, can retrieve memories that I’ve forgotten. However…” He gave Oliver a well-meaning smile. “We are a team. Just like we used to be in the old days, eh? And I don’t want this to stand between us.”

“I don’t try to dissuade you just to be cranky, you know. The thing is…” Oliver sighed and looked into Adam’s eyes with earnest desperation. “I care about you, you numbskull. And I can’t stand the thought of what will happen to you in the afterlife! I know I can be strict, with both of you in fact. But I’m just...” Oliver shook his head and stared into the fire. “I pray every day for Aves to please have mercy on you and Emily. For the Lord to deliver you, and make you see the truth.” He looked back at Adam. “I was there when you changed during the War of the Prophet. Helplessly watched it happen, what the Forbidden Arts did to you back then. Thank Aves you’ve gotten back to normal somewhat, but do you think it’s easy for me to see you going down that road again?”

The familiar image from Adam’s dream, of how a blood-spattered version of himself swallowed him, flashed through Adam’s mind. He repressed the memories and stared into the fire as well. “Thanks, Oliver, that you’re concerned about me. But I was shocked to see my younger self in Caine’s memory, and I’ll never become like that again. Just like plenty of other users of Instinct who retained their sanity.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “As far as other people could tell. And many users turned into berserk minions of the Ancestor that way.”

Adam sighed. “Look, I appreciate your concern and that you wish the best for me. I truly do.” He stared intently into Oliver’s blue eyes. “But what’s the best for you, isn’t the best for me. You’re happy within the Starwing Order, but you know I don’t believe anymore. You have the right to practice your religion, but that does not give you the right to dictate how I should live my life.”

Oliver’s eye twitched a bit. He looked down at his feet and took several deep breaths. “Aves will punish you if you won’t atone, you know that. Just… help me understand. How can you look at the stars and not see proof that He’s watching over us?”

Adam ran a hand through his beard. How do I say this in a way he’d understand? “I haven’t believed for a long time. But what definitively settled the matter for me was the siege of Ziecherhein,” he said with a flat voice. “I’ve never seen so many people praying to Him as then. They prayed before the Prophet reached the walls and they prayed during the battles. Prayers were often the last thing said by dying soldiers. Ziecherhein is, or was, the holiest site of the entire Starwing Order. It is where Aves himself supposedly ascended.” Adam looked up. “So, if He’s truly watching all we do—if He’s that almighty—why didn’t He stop the Prophet? Why didn’t He do something?”

Oliver opened and closed his mouth as if he wanted to say something. “His reasons and actions are not for us to understand.”

“Understand? I certainly don’t. I’d guess he exists or has existed in some form or other. There must be a source from which sorcerers within the Starwing Order learn their basis for Novaseering. But let’s assume for a moment Aves is indeed all-knowing and all-powerful. Then He just lets his followers suffer. People like Alef, a priest of Aves who spent so much time praying and caring for others, got killed in Ziecherhein just like anyone else! Why didn’t He protect him? How bad do things need to get before He intervenes? No, if he has that much power, I doubt he’s truly ‘well-willing and loving towards his followers’ and ‘ready to smite all sinners.’ ”

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Even though it wasn’t hot, beads of sweat formed on Oliver’s forehead. “What about the Mist, huh? Great walls of smoke which grow over whole continents with people outside of the Starwing Order. What else can cause that other than Aves’ holy wrath? Do you think we’re fighting the Penduli for sport? No! We do so because every disbeliever can bring the Mist to Dorenland!”

Adam gave him an empty look. “Do you really think so? Or is that what those in power of the Starwing Order want the people to believe in order to get more followers and spread their influence? There is no proof for what the Mist is or what causes it! Except if you take Zachalynn’s words into account.”

Oliver stared at Adam in silence for a while. His brow furrowed as if his mind was working overtime. Then his shoulders slumped. “Ha! An interesting perspective you have there.” Oliver tried to smile, but his eyes betrayed other, stressed emotions. “I see I can’t persuade you. So, let’s agree to disagree. You should make your own choices, indeed.”

Adam nodded, not sure what to say. He sat beside his friend for a while, who stared into the fire. Oliver’s jaw muscles worked as he frowned, deep in thought.

“I think I’ll catch some sleep then,” Adam said as he stood up.

“Ah, just one thing,” Oliver replied, without looking up. “I… wanted to ask Emily something. And I think tonight, at the campfire, is the time it should be done.”

A worried feeling grew in Adam’s stomach, although he kept his face straight. “What would you like to ask?”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. He smiled at Adam, although the worry shone through his eyes and the tenseness of his jaw. “Come on, you’ve joked about it often enough through the years.”

Adam nodded and smiled back, trying to ignore his gut practically screaming at him that he should stop Oliver. That he should nip this idea in the bud, while he still could. But I can’t do that! I’d better take ‘hypocrisy’ as my middle name if I did. “You’d like to ask her out?”

Oliver shrugged, although his feet moved uneasily. “Oh, for years, no big deal.” He sighed deeply. It was strange seeing Oliver like this. Gone was the steadfast certainty, and the void it left gave a peek at feelings that lay underneath: doubt and worry. “Who knows how many letters I’ve sent her since the War of the Prophet, but I’ve never had the right… opportunity, you know? And you’re right, this place is insane. I want to protect her, to be there for her. I’ve wanted to ask her for so long, I just can’t risk dying without having tried.”

Adam nodded slowly and sat down again, unsure what to say. With the best intentions, he couldn’t remember a single moment where Emily showed she reciprocated Oliver’s interests. Adam’s stomach lurched when he imagined Oliver and Emily together, no matter how unlikely it seemed. Calm down, most probably, you only like her that way because of the damn Crimson Urges. Keep it together.

Oliver looked pale, he took deep breaths and held his knees while he stared at the ground. Like a man who knew he’d walk to the gallows the next morning. He held up a hand and smiled. “Oh, I know, I’m a good catch. It’s just that… I’ve never had the skill with women you and Caine always had.”

“Oh, come on, don’t sell yourself short.” Adam smiled, while images flashed before his mind’s eye of him and Emily holding hands, or fighting together against the peacock. But they were replaced with Catherine and Adam, singing Eric’s happy birthday song together. Of Catherine smiling and bringing Adam water when he had a fever. Guilt cut through him like an ice-cold knife in the stomach, although he tried with all his might to keep smiling. “You’re a great guy. No matter what, we’ve always been able to rely on you.”

Oliver smiled and closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them again. “Thanks. And I truly hope we can save Catherine and Eric from the Taint. I can only imagine how much you must miss them.”

It was as if someone plunged the freezing knife of guilt even deeper into Adam’s stomach and twisted the blade.

“Schultora,” his heart whispered, and Adam felt the corresponding scorched brand on it shimmer. He shivered, it took all he had to not look down and bury his face in his hands. How can I even look at him? Hoping my close friend gets rejected because I’m dreaming of Emily? What is wrong with me? “It’s been… difficult. I’d love to properly introduce you when we save them.” If I even deserve to do so. How did I turn into this sack of shit?

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” Oliver said, looking intently at Adam. “I know Emily and you like to joke around as well. But I hoped that you could leave me the space and time needed. To not get in my way, you know?”

Adam swallowed. His thoughts raced to find a solution, to talk his way out of this. His gut screamed at him not to bar himself from ever having an opportunity with Emily again.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Uhm, that’s not an odd request, I think?”

Adam smiled hastily. “Oh no! Of course. I’ll be curious to hear how it went.” He walked back and lay down on his itchy mat. Emily lay a couple of feet away from him in a seemingly uncomfortable tangle of limbs, breathing softly. Her long hair stuck out in all directions. Adam eyed her for a moment, unable to deny the warm, fuzzy feeling that she gave him. He tried to analyse and repress the feelings the best he could. Messed up as the situation may be, to be with Emily would still feel like cheating on Catherine. If he managed to reverse the Taint and Catherine loved him again, he damn sure couldn’t say that he’d been together with Emily in the meantime. No, he’d stay loyal to his family.

However, the mental image of Oliver holding hands with Emily, unlikely as it may be, made Adam’s jaw and stomach tense up.

Adam turned to his side and away from Emily, ignoring the itch of his stupid makeshift mat. Ugh, damn Crimson Urges. Maybe it would be for the better, somehow, if Emily and Oliver got together…