Authors: Usman Ijaz
The cold hit him at once, snatching away the
warmth of the room at his back. The wind flapped his robe around him, as though
attempting to snatch that as well. Aeiron moved to the balustrade and peered
below. There was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen; guards patrolling the
outer walls, a few servants and pages scurrying around through the courtyards
on some errand. He tried to take peace in that, in knowing that everything was
as it should be, but found that he could not. His gaze lifted to the
surrounding city. The City of Lights, Grandal was often called, and the view
before his eyes told him why. Street lamps were lit on every street, casting
small pools of warm light every few feet. Even in the night he could feel the
moving beauty of the great city around him. Every street was straight as a
sword and broad enough to allow a flood of people to pass without hindering one
another, and many of the buildings were painted a white that seemed to
withstand the winds of change. Shingles capped most buildings, while others
were domed and some roofed in red slate. At high noon those buildings would
catch and hold the sun’s glare, making the city glow like a crystal lamp.
Aeiron knew this was how the city had looked in the time of his father, and
felt a profound pride that he had managed to keep it unchanged when so much
around them was changing too quickly.
The City of Lights should forever be
bright
, he thought. Some might prefer the morose beauty of Gale or the
nonchalant architecture of the Seven States, but he didn’t think any city could
do for him what Grandal did.
And yet it may all come to an end soon.
He sighed. As he breathed in the chill air, he
no longer saw the greatness of his city, but rather how it might look if all
his plans fell apart. He longed to go to the room where the Krillen was kept,
and wait there as he had found himself doing so many of these nights, to
perhaps see if it would show him something of Alexis and the Ascillian child.
It hadn’t shown him anything before, and he knew it would remain quiet this
night as well. His eyes drifted past the city and rested along the dark
horizon. Nemar had brought him the rumors pouring out of Sune, rumors of an
Ascillian still alive. His seer assured him that many didn’t pay much heed to
them, for there were always people quick to accuse another as an Ascillian
simply because their eyes were a lighter shade, but Aeiron couldn’t rest
knowing the dangers that now faced Alexis and the child. They had already
barely escaped certain death, but how would they fare if they were caught
again? Three Legionnaires had already paid a high price. If the one that now
remained fell, then where would that leave him? Where would that leave them
all?
Michael’s remains had come to them just three
days gone, and he had been buried with all honors. In his heart Aeiron didn’t think
that would be the last name among the fallen for this secret cause. A part of
him wondered,
But why must it be a secret? If only the other nations were
aware of the threat ....
He stared out into the dark, no longer feeling
the cold, and wondered how he might proceed if Alexis got the boy safely to
Gale.
Perhaps it is time to bring the other nations into this plot ... it
can’t be done alone.
It might prove more problematic than anything else, he
knew, but he also knew that those quarrels and struggles for power would be
nothing in the face of the darkness that waited in the Ruins.
Aeiron watched the world shrouded in night, and
felt at ease knowing that this, at least, was only a passing darkness. He
couldn’t imagine it remaining like this for the rest of eternity. The first
drops of rain began to fall as he headed back inside.
1
Adrian lay on the hard cold ground with only a
thin blanket to keep away the chills of the earth, and another to keep away the
wind. Sleep was long coming, and not because he feared the dreams. The dreams
had stopped, as his mother had promised, but he found himself wishing for one
more glimpse of her, nonetheless. Such was his sorrow. Instead his mind was
bent on thoughts of their immediate future. They had crossed into Teihr earlier
that day, but Gale was still far and out of sight. It was in these hours, when
sleep was a distant yearning, that his thoughts snared and held him. He
couldn’t clear his mind and sink into weariness; instead he must lie awake and
contemplate what tomorrow might bring, no longer full of the naive certainty
that he would be alive by next evening.
Adrian knew, without having to be told, that the
most caution must come from him. One clear look into his face could jeopardize
his companions and himself. They didn’t deserve that, not for aiding him. He
kept his gaze on his pommel as they passed others on the roads, even if the
strangers weren’t looking directly at them. He didn’t try to comfort himself
with the thought that all their need for caution would disappear if they
reached Gale. He didn’t dare fool himself.
Adrian turned over and looked at Connor's
sleeping form. His cousin's back was to him, so he couldn’t tell if Connor was
asleep or not. The bruises and scars around Connor’s throat were fading, but
Adrian worried that his cousin would forever bear a mark to remind him of his
brush with death. His own bruises and welts had nearly disappeared, easing the
constricting pressure on his throat. He looked towards where Leah lay beyond
Connor, her back turned to him as well, and then to where Alexis had lain his
blankets. The Legionnaire’s blankets lay empty and crumpled.
He could
feel the man somewhere in the night, sitting still as a statue.
Adrian lay awake and reflected on the heavy
moods of the company. He couldn’t ever remember them being a merry company,
submerged in danger as they always were, but he had never seen them all this
disheartened either. It seemed to him that of late there was an odd air of
trepidation amidst their company, as though they all feared what might be ahead
but couldn’t explain why they should feel so. Adrian felt the same mixture of
anxiety and fear, and as he thought on it, something in his mind whispered that
the end was drawing at hand, and that they were all simply working their way to
admitting it. Was that what the others felt? he wondered. As the road carried
them closer to Gale, did their apprehension deepen? He veered his mind off that
path, realizing that it helped him not at all.
He sat up then and searched the flat plains
around their campsite. Only the movement of Alexis’s dark hair stirring in the
breeze betrayed his position from several yards away. Adrian watched him for a
few moments, realizing that he had at first glance mistaken him for a dark
mound. He pushed away the blankets and stood up. The night wasn’t pure
darkness, but rather full of a dim brightness induced by the stars out in all
their numbers and a sickle moon. One of the horses raised its head and watched
him as he walked past the sleeping animals. Alexis turned his head to watch him
approach and take a seat beside him. For a few moments neither one broke the
placid silence that hung upon the world. They simply sat and watched the dots
of lights displayed against the black sky.
“We’re not far from Gale now,” Alexis said at
last. “Another day or so should get us there.”
Adrian noted the reluctance that had crept into the
Legionnaire’s voice. “Are you worried we’ll meet danger there?”
“There’s danger all around us,” Alexis said. He
met Adrian’s gaze, and seemed to understand the run of his thoughts and that he
wanted more of an answer. He sighed. “Gale is home to me ... and yet it’s not.
It’s an odd place of memories for me. I don’t look forward to encountering all
those emotions again so soon.”
Adrian sat quietly, his mind digesting the
Legionnaire’s words. He felt Alexis’s reluctance to even speak of it, and
decided to let the matter go. “Alexis ... what will we do when we reach Gale?”
“What do you believe we should do?”
Adrian looked out to the night sky. “I think we
should try and get others’ help. We can’t do this by ourselves.”
“And whose help do you think we should get?”
“King Aeiron’s ... and perhaps your cousin will
be able to do something to aid us.”
“Perhaps,” Alexis said, but he didn’t sound
enthused about it. “As for Grandal, every day carries us further away. Help
from there will be a long time coming ... but it might be all that is left to
us.”
“What of your father?”
Alexis smiled wanly. “It is hard to say anything
of certain about my father.”
“But you told Connor and me to go to him if we
lost you, and you told the same to Leah. He must be able to help us.”
Alexis’s face darkened and his grim smile faded.
“Perhaps, Adrian. But I think we are getting ahead of ourselves. We must first
reach Gale.”
Silence settled between them once more. Adrian
said, “And then to the Ruins?”
“Yes.”
Silence descended once more. “I’m not sure I can
touch the Source, Alexis.” The words came out reluctantly from Adrian. He
didn’t want to break the Legionnaire’s faith in him. “I’ve seen it in my
dreams, always within reach, and yet it always shatters and falls to pieces as
I watch.”
Alexis studied him closely. “But you don’t touch
it?”
“I -- I don’t think so; it’s hard to remember it
all clearly.”
Alexis let out a deep breath. He looked as
though he resisted voicing something on the edge of his tongue. At last he
said, “A small hope, it may be, but what else do we have to hold on to?”
Adrian nodded glumly. Sitting there with the
Legionnaire, speaking aloud the thoughts plaguing their minds, he felt he could
tell Alexis anything. “I ... I wish everyone else knew what we’re fighting for.
Perhaps then ... they wouldn’t fear the Ascillians as much, and our journey would
be made easier.”
Alexis watched the night as he answered. “If
everyone knew, how much safer would we be? You must realize that aside from
scholars and philosophers most people have never heard of the Source, and those
who know of it have only legends and bits of information to go on. But that
wouldn’t stop them from wanting it. Especially if it will grant them greater
power. It is simply the way the mind of man works; we all crave more power, to
change events around us, until the day we die and realize how futile it all
really is in the end.”
“And why do you help us?” Adrian asked
curiously.
“Because it’s my duty, given to me by King
Aeiron. Because a few good men have died already, and I know others will
follow. I have no wish to see the light abandon this world. It is dark enough
as it is.”
“Do you feel at times as though we’re walking up
a sheer cliff?”
“Always, but it is the memory of all I hold dear
that keeps me walking. I have no desire to fail those I love. Perhaps if you
think of those you love, and keep in mind that it is for them you do this, it
won’t seem so heavy a burden.”
Adrian thought of his family in Port Hope, the
only family he had ever known. He realized he didn’t wish to do anything that
would cause them harm. He didn’t want to fail them, or himself.
2
The next day was spent much the same. The towns
they avoided became larger inland, eventually turning into small cities, which
meant that they had to ride farther around to circle them. The roads grew
busier, often taken up by merchant's wagons drawn by four-horse teams, hurrying
to some place. Even the rural roads they rode along were often inhabited by
people. Adrian saw some of the women's clothes and turned away. They were plain
dresses, but with wide or deep necklines, sometimes both. The men had beards as
often as small moustaches framing their lips. It seemed to him that all the
changes he had expected to see once across the border had finally caught up
with them. The farms they passed grew some crops that he knew, and others he
had never seen. He didn't know what to make of fields of low plants with small
red bulbs.
"They’re called sweetberries," Alexis
told him when he asked quietly.
With every day that passed and their destination
still out of hand, the company grew more and more morose. The effect was plain
all around. Even the Legionnaire began to grow uneasy, as if the apprehension
wouldn’t leave him. They spoke little in that time, and though they stayed
close, a cold distance grew between them all. Adrian witnessed the bonds
holding them together begin to deteriorate and fade. Soon they would simply be
four strangers traveling together, he thought.
Thus it came as a relief when on their fourth
day in Teihr, with the daylight receding across the sky, they passed over a hill
and saw the tall spires of a great city in the distance.
"There it is," Alexis announced.
"Gale."
1
To Adrian it looked like some great place he
could have heard about a thousand times and never envisioned it as it was. Even
with a road yet between them, he could make out the tall spires domed in dull
gray, and on each fluttered a banner the color of fresh blood. He couldn’t make
out the image on the banner, but he thought he soon would be able to. There
appeared to be no walls around the city, it simply seemed to span out in every
direction. A dark, dismal grayness seemed to grip the city; its streets, its
buildings, even the air around it, it seemed.