Clambering his way up the highest flight of steps in nearly all of Eclipse, almost falling all the way backwards several times as he did so, Baldwin’s mind wouldn’t stop racing.
The great steps were covered in dust, and were much too large for his tiny, twelve year old legs to step across. Bruises lined his shins with every false step, but ignoring the tears of pain forming in his eyes, Baldwin’s smile was infectious.
It was finally today. After so long, he would be apprenticed by the city’s guards.
All around the floating island-city of Eclipse, like a great net that kept everything in order, the hovering fortress laid. It served several purposes. First and foremost, it ensured that everyone who entered or left the city did so through the proper channels. Well, insofar as that was possible. But there was a secondary, more mundane reason that, to Baldwin at least, was the most exciting news in the world.
It was the home of the city’s guards. Where they worked, drank, slept, and spent what little leisure time they had sparring, getting infamously drunk, or on more boring occasions, playing cards.
It was also where Remus, killer of two Right-bearers, was under house arrest.
Well, the term ‘house-arrest’ wasn’t quite right. Baldwin didn’t know the exact details of what had happened during that trial, a Rebirth ago by this point, but Remus had been sentenced to working here. That was the extent of his knowledge on the subject, but the fact he was even here, regardless of the circumstances, was enough to make suffering this flight of stairs a worthy sacrifice.
Almost there now. Baldwin thought to himself, after the sixth-hundredth step, breathing laboriously. Come on legs, you can hold on just a little longer. Long enough to see a living legend!
There was the growing possibility that he would face-plant into the next layer of brick, if he didn’t take a well deserved break. The skin of his legs was chafed, battered, and bleeding in places. It wasn’t a mystery why nearly every guard in the squadron had some kind of flying technique. Of course, it was needed to travel around the airborne city as effectively as possible, but then there was also the tortuous journey Baldwin was taking. He didn't want to know how many poor apprentices had failed their service due to broken legs, before even reaching the door of their trainers.
Only when that great oak entranceway was within view, did Baldwin allow himself a moment’s respite. He stroked a finger down the door, uncovering yet another layer of grime that made him choke. As much as Baldwin was keen to join the sentinels, he would have to wait until he acquired the flying abilities of his clan. The Moon Sect could levitate quite easily in moonlight, but newbie Emblazed like himself had to adjust to the ability. He could perhaps travel a few feet without dropping like a pin. Though the prospect of doing so, and falling through the gaping holes that separated the islands of Descent into open air, was about as appealing as walking up this staircase had been.
Baldwin was perfectly content with sitting still there, and waiting patiently for the doorway to open. So when he leaned against it with his back, and found it unlocked, falling in as it opened, it was only with mild embarrassment that he got off the floor, patted himself down, and proceeded to march inwards as if that hadn't just happened.
“Hello?” He called down a cobbled passage, his echoed voice reverberating all around.
When no response came, Baldwin ventured deeper in.
For all the guards’ glory, the place was quite rustic. The stone passage junctioned off at the end, leading deeper into the gloom, with other halls breaking off with every tenth step he took. In between each snaking passage, darkness was discouraged, burnt away by candlelight.
He didn’t fail to notice the luminance with which their flames flickered: an unmistakable blue. The sight made Baldwin’s heart soar. It was only a few of them, the rest remaining an offstandish red, but any sign of Remus was like meeting with a god.
He called out a few more times. Yet again, no response came. At least, not a verbal one.
The torches darkened, before flashing a different shade. Baldwin had to blink a few times, before noticing the colours of the torches had changed. After a perplexed second, where his brows were furrowed so tightly, they threatened to form a permanent unibrow, it clicked. The lights were guiding him. And only Remus had the power to make their colour change like that. Well, Baldwin wasn't aware of any other Ambition Clansmen who were nearby, or who had any reason to be in the base of the citywatch. He didn’t want to get too excited over nothing, but this seemed like pretty concrete evidence.
The suspicion still spun around Baldwin’s mind. Goosebumps sent his skin into a frenzy, and his heart beat faster by the second. He may have been getting ahead of himself, but what if? What if Remus himself was apprenticing him?
It would be a first. Any trainee who had claimed to be under Remus’ wing was quickly disproven. If he was so lucky, Baldwin would have a tough time proving it to the rest of the Moon Clan. Nobody would believe him.
Since his trial, Remus had been a solitary man. Nobody saw him after his shift ended. Rumours had it he just stayed put in his quarters, speaking to nobody other than his fellow guards. He seemed intent on completing his mandatory service, keeping to himself, and then . . . doing whatever it was he planned on doing, once leaving the city.
Finally, the torches led Baldwin to a dead end. Another door, identical to the wooden handiwork of every other entrance in this fortress, awaited him.
Baldwin raised his hand, and, taking a deep breath, knocked.
For a few seconds, only daunting silence, and then-
“Come in.”
Baldwin jolted where he stood. This was it. This was the moment of truth. With a clammy palm, he grasped the doorknob, opened the door, and entered.
It was dark. That was Baldwin’s first impression, and served as a pretty ample description of the place. His eyes needed time to adjust, but he could tell immediately that the space was small. Like the interior of a quaint little hut. It was pretty barren too. All that fitted into the room was a twin-sized bed, a basin, some cupboards and draws, and then to his left-hand side, a simple desk and chair. Scattered papers sat there, and stacked on top was a pot of ink with a quill stuck in it.
Standing in the centre of it all was a man with his back to him. He wasn’t too tall, but neither especially short. The basic chainmail and wool of the guard’s uniform rested on his body, glimmering in places, and looking up to his face . . .
Overgrown ginger locks dangled unkempt on his head. Not to insult the man, but Baldwin couldn't help but think he was in much need of a haircut. His eyes met his, cyan blue and bored-looking, and Baldwin suddenly felt as if the weight of entire planets was crashing down on him.
Baldwin stared with awe at the gentle giant ahead of him. It was a mighty contrast from the pictures of Remus that had featured in the newspapers, a look of venom defining his features through a blaze of his own making.
Remus turned away from Baldwin, walked over to his desk, and picked up a sheet of paper.
“Baldwin . . .” he read aloud. “That is your name, correct?”
Baldwin nodded fervently. His wildest dreams were coming true. He was going to work alongside a living myth, a living legend. His name might even be a footnote in some history book chronicling Remus’ misadventures. He could think of no greater honour.
“Yes, Sir!”
Remus didn’t smirk at that, but his lips certainly twitched. “Drop the Sir. Just call me Remus.”
“Yes, Remus, Sir.”
He stared at Baldwin, a ghost of a grin on his face, but it never did form. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you. This is my last task I need to complete before I’m free from my sentence. I was delaying it, because I don’t like the idea of apprenticing-”
“I’ll do everything in my power to make it as smooth as possible, Remus Sir!”
For a pause, Remus just stared at Baldwin. He wasn’t too much taller, compared to how other adults towered over Baldwin, but he crouched down to face Baldwin regardless, head-on.
“Why do you all do that?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Do what? Remus, Sir.” Baldwin quickly added.
Remus' eyes stared him down a little longer, and Baldwin couldn’t imagine what those eyes had seen. After saying nothing, Remus stood up.
“I’ll show you the ropes today, and tomorrow, we’ll get some real work done.”
Baldwin nodded fervently, never more excited in his life. “I just have to say Sir, working alongside you is the greatest privilege of my-”
“Drop the Sir, please. And stop praising me. If I hear one more compliment, I might have to rethink this enterprise all together.”
Given enough warning, Baldwin sealed his lips.
“Come then.” Remus made for the passages. “We have places to be.”
“Are we heading to the top of the fortress? The part overseeing Eclipse? That’s where you work, right?”
“It is.” Remus answered. “But that’s not where we’re going. We have to take you to the infirmary.”
Baldwin paused in his tracks. “The infirmary?”
“Yes. I heard the apprentices have trouble when going up the stairs sometimes, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.”
Bemused, Baldwin glanced down. It was with perhaps a delayed realisation that he noted the waterfall of Ichor, staining his trousers gold. He may have barged into solid stone too tall for him, one too many times.
The adrenaline of the exchange wore off, and a wave of agony made Baldwin squirm. Remus offered to carry him, but Baldwin refused, limping behind.
Regardless, the muscles in his face hurt from beaming so hard. Nothing in his life had been more worth it
----------------------------------------
It was with mixed feelings that Remus led Baldwin to the crenellations lining the top of the fort. It had taken a day for the nurse to deem Baldwin well enough to complete his first day of service, after his brawl with the stairs, though bandages enveloped both of his legs. The sight of bandaged limbs brought back bad memories swimming through Remus’ mind, but he shook them away.
The weather was rather plain that day: windy, with sunlight streaming down in moderate rays. There was something infectious about the pure, childish joy with which Baldwin considered everything. Like being here, a guard serving Eclipse, was a glorious position to aim for. Something to be proud of.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Remus only wished he could think the same way.
“The job might sound fun, but it’s a lot of staring into space, and doing nothing.” He explained. “Me and the guys find ways to entertain ourselves, but you should level your expectations.”
“Are you kidding?” Baldwin ran around on legs that had only just healed. “Just being able to stand on these cobbles, to protect people . . . It’s an honour.”
“Yes.” Remus said, ever-so slowly. “I suppose it is.”
They spent much of that day strolling across the fort’s top, overlooking the floating islands of Eclipse, and the great, rustless chains that connected them. The view was beautiful, as hard as Remus found that to admit, but he had become jaded to the sight. How many times can you admire the elegance of a rose, until even that loses its flare?
Finally, when they had traversed the entire length of the fort, taking a few hours, at a leisurely, conversational pace, they returned to Remus’ usual spot. It gave him a solid view of anyone entering Eclipse from the north-west. But beyond that, too many miles apart to see from even up here, would be Hybrid, and even further onward, his home of First Rite. His heart ached to return. Surely, when the details of his prolonged stay here were arranged, they must have kept that detail in mind. To ensure he would always be staring at his birthplace, but would never catch a glimpse.
“It’s cruel.” He muttered.
Baldwin perked up. “What is?”
Remus chided himself for dropping his guard. “Never you mind.”
But the damage had been done. Baldwin would have been bored out of his mind, after the initial excitement of being here had worn off. Like Remus had said, you can only stare at a beautiful visage for so long, until even the gradual movement of the clouds seems to run at a snail's pace. Baldwin would have been waiting to drag Remus into a sea of questions, and he had just handed him the opportunity.
“What was it like? Not to pry, Sir, but were you scared at the trial?”
If Baldwin was any older, Remus would have been tempted to launch the boy from the fortress’ side. The question had come out of nowhere, and his use of formalities rubbed Remus the wrong way. But one can not blame the youth for their innocence.
“A little.” He answered truthfully. “I knew Damosh and some other God-Graced had it out for me. To be honest, I was let off pretty leniently.”
“Because you killed the Supreme Fiend.”
Remus swallowed. “My great grandfather did all the work. He deserves the honour. But yes. And my part in ending Milap.”
No sounds graced the scene but the gentle, ushering wind. The sun was beginning to set now, moving grudgingly downwards, and out of sight.
Apparently five seconds was enough for Baldwin to regain his confidence. “But why here, at Eclipse? Why would they sentence you to work here, and not at First Rite, or Hybrid?”
So many questions. Oh well, Remus couldn’t find an excuse to lie. “They wanted me away from First Rite for a while. Partly as a punishment, and partly because me and Damosh . . . we’re not very chummy. I wasn’t sent to Hybrid because that’s where . . . Violet was sent.”
“That girl? The Unbounded?”
The connotations of that hit Remus’ like a whip. But nothing explicitly critical had been said, so Remus let it slide.
“Yes. Her.”
Baldwin seemed to consider this, and, after finally dropping the matter, posed another question; one equally as daunting as the rest. “What are your plans for when your service is complete? Nobody sees you other than when you're on guard duty. Are you planning something? Is that why you’re always in your room?”
Remus bit his tongue. “I- I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m unsure. I haven’t really been planning anything.”
“You must be close to advancing to Vanguard by now — that’s what you want to do next, right, at Splintered Rank? All the rumours say so.”
Rumours. When exactly Remus had become the centre of public attention, he was left unawares. He thought after a year of solitude, the public would hop onto the next exciting trend, but no. Hundreds, probably thousands of eyes were all still locked firmly onto Remus. It was a heavy weight to carry.
“That’s the plan, but this next step in advancement is proving tricky. I guess at these later stages of power, you can’t brute force your way through.”
That news didn’t seem to dissuade young Baldwin in the slightest, who, hopping up and down on his feet, undoing his bandages in the process, continued his verbal bombardment. Remus couldn’t help but feel like he was being chained down and interrogated.
“I’m sure you’ll advance any day now! A year of work here must be more experience than you need. People are saying at this rate, you might advance from Enkindled to God-Graced faster than any-”
“Alright, that’s enough work for today.” Remus interjected. “Come, let’s head back to our quarters before the nurse scolds me for not looking after you. Apparently you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
“Some fresh air was all I needed to heal right up Sir! Don’t you worry about me, Sir!”
“Remus.”
Baldwin looked like he was trying to understand some outlandishly complex equation. “Don’t worry about me . . .”
Remus narrowed his eyes on the boy.
“. . . Remus.”
“Good.” Remus swept his hands clean in a job well done, despite having done precisely zero actual work today.
He was about to turn around, and depart back to his chambers, when Remus noticed something. A group of figures rushing towards the gates surrounding Eclipse.
For individuals who couldn’t fly, there were two ways to enter Eclipse. The hard way was climbing up a spiral staircase, one that made the stairs leading to the guards’ headquarters look like a walk in the park in comparison. The other was waiting for somebody to escort you. That role was allocated to a subdivision of the guards, and Remus couldn’t decide if staring into space or lifting random people up and down was more monotonous. At least up here, he usually didn’t have to bother with people.
Except for times like this.
“They look distressed.” Remus pointed the group out. “We should check everything’s alright.”
Baldwin nodded with gusto, as if he had been waiting all day for something interesting to occur. Aside from being amazed at Remus’ very existence, of course.
It was a short stroll over to the entrance. Like the rest of the fortress, it was a stretch of stone, but one that extended out further. Not many people would be arriving at this time, but Remus still caught sight of airborne clansmen descending down. A few other bored looking guards used their Marks to carry over new arrivals, like a mother bird leading her chicks. Even up the great, spiralling staircase, weary men and women, in much need of a good night’s sleep, just about kept their drooping eyelids open, the purple underneath their eyes visible even in the subdued light of late afternoon. They exited a pillar the stairs inhabited, stretching all the way down to the earth, miles below.
The group that had caught Remus’ interest reached the platform, and Remus recognised the escort carrying them over. He only knew his fellow watchmen by name, but saw the divisions often enough to remember faces. This one was a middle-aged man, showing the earliest signs of greying hair, the enthralling light of the Sun and Day Clan immersing his body in a spectacular sheen. The light reached out and enveloped his crew, keeping them airborne. It reminded Remus of the pixie dust that featured in so many children’s stories.
Remus walked over to where four or so people landed clumsily behind the chaperone, Baldwin bouncing on his feet eagerly at his side. Remus could not help but fear the boy was going to tear open old scabs. It wouldn't do for these arrivals’ first impression of Eclipse to be Baldwin bursting every blood vessel in his lower body.
“Is everything okay?”
The escort regarded Remus grimly. “Trouble in First Rite. Apparently people are starting to flee the city.”
Remus took perhaps a second too long to comprehend that. “Fleeing First Rite? Why?”
Before the grey-haired man could answer, one of the escorted men rushed over to Remus.
He grabbed him by the shoulders, and bellowed, only inches away from Remus’ face. “Remus! You were right all along to hate Damosh, but we need your help back in First Rite. He’s gone mad! We’re all going to . . . everyone will be killed!”
He proceeded to crumble where he stood, before dropping down, hands in his weeping face, into a puddle of tears.
What startled Remus the most was that he recognised the man. And the others.
All members of the Feast Sect.
If Baldwin had been expecting excitement and adventure, he received misery and cold-hearted reality instead.
Remus moved closer to address the other, more emotionally stable newcomers. “What’s happening?”
“It’s like he said.” An elderly woman addressed him. “The King’s finally snapped. People have discovered that he’s abusing his Divine Ground to kill any revolters, stopping them from even fighting back.”
Remus inhaled sharply, trying to quell the quiet fire growing inside of him. He couldn’t let it explode into an inferno. Not yet at least.
“He can’t do that!” Baldwin yelped. Then, after a pause, the boy turned to Remus. “Can he do that?”
A hundred thoughts flooded through Remus’ head. Could he?
“I suppose it’s possible. It’s not unbelievable that a loophole would be found within the divine pacts at some point.” Before the swell of emotion tightening his chest threatened to consume Remus, he turned again to the gathering. “How bad is it getting?”
If he was going to receive some horrible news, he might as well tear off the bandaid. Remus was done prolonging pain.
“He’s starting to massacre his own people. It’s . . . not been good.” Again, the elderly woman answered.
“Why has no God-Graced done anything about it?” Remus knew the answer before the question even fully slipped out of his lips. It just wasn’t one he could accept.
“Everyone hates Damosh, but nobody wants to start another war.”
The chaperone sighed. “Most places are still recovering from the last Right-bearer generation. And then there’s Nova, still kicking around somewhere. Pretty much everyone is focused entirely on taking him down, or are too busy entangled with their own affairs.”
“They’ll let Damosh burn down his own city, and char himself to ash in the process.” The weeping man managed. “We’re just the collateral damage to his downfall.”
Remus took a few moments to gather himself. Damosh’s demented, grinning face stuck out in his vision, even as he forced his eyes shut. He wanted to scream out, to fly somewhere and unleash as much fire as he could . . . but neither of those options were very professional, or showed any maturity.
He had to put up a stoic front, at least for how long it would take to get these newcomers to safety.
“Are you fine with getting them someplace to stay?” He asked the grey-haired man. Remus really should start to learn people’s names.
“I’ve got it sorted. Besides, you're busy apprenticing.”
Remus turned back to face Baldwin, as if having forgotten he was there. “Yeah. Yes I am.”
He put a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”
Baldwin looked like he was holding back fat dollops of tears. Remus couldn’t blame him. He was feeling much the same way.
“It’s not fair.”
Remus nodded, taking one final glance north-west — where, maybe hundreds of miles away, First Rite stood. “No, it isn’t.”
----------------------------------------
Remus sauntered slowly back to his chambers. He took a seat at his desk, swept the scattered sheets off, and buried his head in his hands
It was all he could do to fight off the stream of memories, like a worm digging its way through an apple that was his mind.
The shame of that trial. Not being able to do anything, not a thing at all, as Damosh made a mockery of him and Violet on a public stage. How people still had respect for Remus at this point was a mystery.
Suppressing that thought only served to make room for another mental intrusion: namely, Andreas’ face.
Remus could recall every detail of his great grandfather’s death. The smile on his white lips, the limp way his colossal body fell, the comfortable finesse he somehow carried, even to death.
It was the subtler details though. The feel of the wind against the fires of his body, the roar of the Supreme Fiend, and the pandemonium of rage making a circus of Remus’ mind, the main acts rage, loathing, and the all-consuming desire to damn it all to hell.
He muffled a scream into open palms.
Everything after that was a blur. But he remembered his delirious exchange with Violet like it was only yesterday. The memory of what he had said . . . blood rushed to his cheeks, and it was all Remus could do to bury his head in his hands further.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He had worked so hard. So terribly hard. And for what?
Every night, the same nightmares plagued him, but now there was this — this spanner thrown into the works of his misery.
Damosh. Everything came back to him.
Dark thoughts lit the bonfire inside of Remus, but he put it out with but a thought. There was nothing he could do.
He grasped onto the ends of his desk, so tightly he hands grew numb. When he removed his hands, dents were etched into the wood.
One more day, he thought, to console himself, one more day, and I’m out of here.