The Brightest Shadow, page 41
"You..." Tani stared at him, horrified by how easily he denied everything he should have protected. She wanted to argue, yet recognized that doing so might just get her killed. Yet what leverage could she possibly use to convince him? All she had was that he had chosen not to do so, so far.
"I look forward to seeing you break once you learn how the world truly is, child. Yes, I believe that I will let you live." Subenor pulled back his spear and let it rest on one shoulder, examining her carefully. "Yet I cannot let you run back and tell the others. Should I take a foot? No, it would be better if you could still struggle to fight for what you believe in... perhaps an eye?"
With shocking speed his spear shifted into position, beginning to move toward her. Tani could see it coming, yet her body struggled to react as if moving through water. The tip came closer, closer...
A wooden stake struck the shaft of the spear, knocking it to the side.
Both of them turned to look. Tani had no idea what to expect, yet was still surprised. A dark-skinned man stood beside the pit, setting down the bleeding body of one of the warriors. She realized that it was the man who had introduced himself as Jaer Krylyl. He gently laid down the warrior, who seemed to have been stabbed in multiple places by the pit trap but remained alive.
Before Jaer could finish straightening, Subenor lashed out with another thrust. Jaer dodged just to the side of it, but the spear was already thrusting again. Somehow he managed to grasp the shaft, holding it firm and blocking future thrusts.
Growling, Subenor stamped against the earth and pushed forward. The force of it drove Jaer backward several steps, nearly to the edge of the pit. Subenor gritted his teeth and started to move again, but before he could, Jaer brought his free hand against the side of the spear, sundering the wood of the shaft with a single blow.
Both of them discarded the fragments of the spear as they closed the distance, Jaer raising his unarmed hands and Subenor kicking a fallen throwing spear up into his grip.
A whirlwind of blows exploded between them, faster than Tani could follow. It was over in an instant, both of them shifting back out of range. Neither seemed to have been injured, instead watching the other warily. After a moment, Subenor spat onto the ground and then sprinted away.
Tani started to move after him but she stumbled in the attempt. Jaer immediately moved to catch her and she struck his arm away. "After him! He can't just kill them and get away with it!"
"Do not allow death such an easy victory, child." Jaer gave her a sad smile and gestured toward the bodies. "His first victim is indeed dead, but the others can still be saved. I would rather protect promising young warriors than chase after revenge into more traps."
Though she didn't want to admit it, Tani knew he was right. If Subenor had planned his escape route to this extent, most likely he had planned further traps if he was pursued by stronger warriors. As angry as she had felt, she recognized that saving the lives of the others was more important.
Still, she couldn't help but stare at Jaer. "What are you doing here?"
"What I can." With that simple answer, he went to treat the wounds of the others. After a short pause, Tani moved to join him.
Chapter 29
-
"Does anyone know exactly why this random shithole in the middle of Breilin was granted unlimited void-based communications? It's not exactly an easy trip and they do not shut up."
- Head of Voidwalker operations, Breilin-Orphos division
-
Melal was shoveling rocks when the world changed.
He had been doing the task as slowly as possible, trying to extend the time before he had to go back down into the tunnels again. The work made him stronger, but it really got to be a pain striking rocks day in and day out. He longed for something more... something that he now felt in the air in a way he couldn't put into words.
Throwing down his shovel, Melal headed toward the center of Ith Ire. Sounds filtered to him now, shouting and running. Even a burst of combat, though it was over in a second. He started to run, formless hope growing in his chest.
"You have terrorized us for long enough, Deathspawn!" It was a woman's voice, ringing with authority. Melal jumped over a work table, rounded a corner, and skidded to a stop as he saw her.
She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, her hair shimmering in the sunlight as she moved. The light itself seemed to cling to her, rendering the rags she wore glorious. A Deathspawn rushed at her, sword flying, yet she knocked the sword out of his hands with a swift blow. Without the slightest hesitation, she grasped his throat and twisted, snapping his neck and dropping the corpse to the ground.
"Rise! Destroy them all!" She picked up the sword and as she rose, looked at him. When her white eyes fixed on him, Melal couldn't breathe. It was as if they were the only two people in the world and she saw straight into his soul. "Will you fight with us?"
"Yes, of course!" Melal rushed to follow her and saw that there were several other men coming to join them, yet couldn't feel jealous. One of them handed him a pickaxe that had been sharpened, which was better than nothing. He saw Celivia join them as well, her face transformed now that she no longer had such a sour expression.
They followed the Hero, roaring out cries of victory. She strode ahead, raising her sword to point the way to the central building, where they would slay all the-
A crossbow bolt struck her in the chest and the world lurched. Melal barely remained on his feet, trying to move forward to defend her, but it was too late. Several more bolts slammed into her body, and though she stayed on her feet far longer than she should have, eventually she dropped.
Then there was just a woman lying on the ground, the Hero gone. There were Deathspawn coming for them and Melal knew he should fight, but it was so hard to find the will. None of the other men seemed able to fight either, dropping their weapons and surrendering. At least they weren't being killed, though that was only because the Deathspawn needed them as prisoners.
That realization sent white-hot rage through his numbed body. Melal focused on it, refused to go to the ground with the others. A massive Catai in a tight uniform frowned at him sternly, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"On your knees, human. It is over. Surrender and you will be spared."
"N-never!" Melal bit at the Deathspawn's arm, doing no damage but making him pull back. In that moment Melal managed to heft his pickaxe again, swung it with all his might toward the Catai's chest.
One hand caught it, letting the pick pass between the fingers harmlessly. Though Melal tried to pull his weapon back, the Catai closed his fingers around the handle and tugged it from Melal's hands. A moment later a heavy blow hit his chest, making him stagger back. The Catai growled, coming after him and reaching for a weapon.
"Remain calm." It was Kolanin's voice, the old Deathspawn appearing beside them. He spoke in the filthy Deathspawn tongue to the Catai and eventually the uniformed Deathspawn stalked away.
Melal sank to the ground, struggling to regain his anger. It just slipped away, all the hope and courage he had felt evaporating like the morning mists. Just another false hero, a reminder that one day the Hero would come. That seemed a very remote possibility at that moment, but he believed in the Legend. All he could do for now was sit and wait.
They had been gathered on the ground in the center of Ith Ire, no clue what would be done to them. Kolanin watched with a pained look on his face and Melal preferred not to look at him, those tired eyes haunting him. Instead he looked further out, where to his surprise Eraes approached from the direction they had come.
Eraes moved directly to Kolanin and tapped two fingers to her forehead. "I have Laeri here and Iralin is coming, but it doesn't look like there are any survivors."
"I see." Kolanin took several deep breaths and then closed his eyes. "Retreat to the main building."
"Are you sure? Things seem to be over."
"There may still be more violence. Get things ready so that I can address everyone from the roof."
Eraes nodded and moved off at a trot. Melal watched her with seething hatred. Once he had thought she was so beautiful, yet here she was, collaborating with the Deathspawn. The way she spoke to the Deathspawn... no doubt she was fucking them, that would explain it. Maybe that was how Teralanthan women were, spreading their legs for whoever was in power.
The group forced to kneel or crouch on the ground was fairly small, just other warriors who had been inspired as well. Most were older than him, warriors in their prime who now seemed defeated. Another few about his age, anger still on their faces.
And there was an old man, laughing. His hair was gray with a few remnants of brown, sticking out in a wild shock that was rivaled by his tangled beard. Melal thought he looked Coran, but his skin was weathered by a lifetime of work in the sun. And he was laughing.
Melal shuffled over to him and grabbed the front of his tunic. "What the hell is so funny, old man?"
"My granddaughter is no longer my granddaughter." The man gave an unhinged giggle. "No one is anyone. You are me and I am you and we all dream together."
"Have you gone mad?"
"Born in the wrong time... no paths, just broken fragments..." The old man's gaze went vacant and he began to drool into his beard, slumping until Melal shook him violently.
"Stop it!"
"Light that casts no shadow. Everyone passes through it and changes. Light or death or a shadow that should not be. Nine steps toward the six who are four. Seven and eight and nine. Glories rising to fight them, inspired by... by..."
The man spoke in a hypnotic ramble, Melal transfixed by his empty gaze. But his words started to blur together and he fell to the ground, his tunic torn from Melal's fingers. The old man lay on the ground, tearing at his hair and beginning to sob.
"My Kuany, my little Kuany..."
His words became incomprehensible sobs and Melal looked away in disgust. Clearly, the man had been driven mad by the death of the false hero. It filled him with a sense of revulsion that forced Melal to pull away. Yet the madness of his words seemed to whisper in his mind, leaving him shivering with a sensation he didn't understand.
Forcing it down, Melal instead stumbled to his feet. He couldn't let himself be distracted, he needed to recapture the anger. Needed to remember who the enemy was.
"Sit down, Melal." It was the Catai again, approaching with a stern look.
Melal tried to spit at him and missed. "You haven't won, you bastards! You'll never win, not while one of us still has hope!"
"Sit down." The Catai loomed in front of him, trying to threaten him into submission. Melal struck at him wildly, his fists glancing off the wall of muscle.
The Deathspawn growled and grabbed his arm, twisting him toward the ground. When Melal tried to struggle, it just caused pain to shoot up his arm, so he was forced lower. "I don't want to hurt you. Just stay quiet and don't rile anyone up."
"Never!" Yet for now, he was overpowered.
"Stop struggling and I'll let go."
Melal didn't stop, not until his face was pressed into the dirt. He stayed there, still straining his muscles against the Deathspawn. There was nothing he could do now, but that would change. One day, he would be strong enough to defeat the monster holding him in place.
Until then, he would bide his time.
~ ~ ~
A foolish part of Slaten had expected things to be different. He'd had enough time to reflect on the Heroes he'd seen in the past and told himself that he wouldn't be swept up in it the next time. Yet when he'd heard the shouts and realized what was happening, part of him had still surged with new hope.
The most he'd been able to do was freeze himself in place and drop to his knees instead of following the call. He'd remained there, pressing his forehead to the ground, until he felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. After that, the pressure released and he'd been able to get up, following the chaos to see how many had died.
Now they had all been gathered together in the central ground of Ith Ire. Around him Slaten could feel a dangerous mix of emotions from anger to confusion to despair. There were rumors that there had been an attempt at rebellion and some even dared to speak of Heroes, especially those who had seen the woman who led them. Slaten said nothing and simply waited.
After a time, Ulviab appeared on the roof of the central building, drawing everyone's gaze. He seemed shaken, his footsteps uncertain enough that Slaten wondered if he would fall. Ulviab stopped at the edge, stared for a time, then tried to speak.
"There has been... an accident. Several of us have died. It shouldn't have had to be this way." His voice broke and he coughed several times before continuing. "You may have heard stories of a Hero. It shouldn't... we don't want to hurt anyone... it doesn't need... I don't..."
Slaten understood some of the incomprehension in his face and felt for him. After the pause extended awkwardly, Kolanin emerged onto the roof. He gently took Ulviab's shoulder and led him to a seated position. After speaking to him in a low voice, he turned and wearily addressed the crowd below.
"Many of you may not understand or won't listen, but I am too tired to do anything but speak plainly. A Hero appeared in our camp, just like in the stories. She wasn't the first, and sadly may not be the last. Wherever the Hero goes, humans and mansthein kill one another. It has to end."
Kolanin rubbed his face roughly, then continued. "Our fear that this would happen again is the reason that none of us can leave. I had hoped that it was only paranoia, yet today we saw a Hero appear. Here, the damage can be contained. All of us may suffer, but at least the world will not be torn apart by this... phenomenon." He lapsed into a long silence, then turned away with a few final words. "Please work together so that the rest of the world can have a future."
Hearing everything stated so clearly left Slaten numb. It was all obvious, he knew the things Kolanin had said, yet actually stating them had been so difficult. When he looked around, he saw few looks of comprehension. Most still seemed dazed and he wondered if they had heard anything that was said. Both humans and mansthein shuffled away from the central grounds. An old man remained curled in the dirt, weeping.
If he let himself wander, Slaten was certain that the clarity in his mind now would fade. He wanted to talk to Kolanin, but judging from his expression doubted the mansthein man would be willing to talk to anyone. Then who, and where?
Since most were moving back toward their quarters, Slaten headed instead for the central building. Most likely Eraes would be there at minimum. When he entered, he found three other people there with her, seated in a fragmented circle. Celivia leaned restlessly against a wall and nodded to him. Herakin sat back in his desk, face blank. Ulviab crouched forward over his lap, working with something before him, his face now returned to his usual gentle smile.
When he approached, Slaten saw that Ulviab was playing with several of his kittens. This was the second litter, born from the first cats he had brought along with them. They sleepily crawled over each other and his hands. Ulviab watched them fondly, then finally looked up.
"I hadn't truly believed the stories. This Hero was more terrible than I had imagined, yet I can still find hope." Ulviab turned his gaze to each of them, speaking faster as if eager to get the words out. "It may be painful for us, but our sacrifice can prevent the suffering of others. Without the Hero, peace can prosper among our peoples as we understand one another more deeply."
Herakin snorted. Ulviab frowned at him.
"You disagree? I believe that in time, we can only come to see what we have in common."
Though Herakin didn't answer, after a moment Eraes spoke flatly. "You didn't need a Hero to bring war to Baelen. Just humans and mansthein, yet you're destroying one nation and bringing the war to Teralanth next. What good does any of this do?"
"I would never say this world isn't a violent place." Ulviab picked up one of the kittens and began stroking it gently. "Meetings between such different groups are bound to be difficult. Yet there is peace on the other side of the danger, I believe. If we expect war, yes, there will be war. But if enough of us expect peace, we can attain it."
Celivia pushed off the wall and stared down at him. "Has there ever been peace even within a single group of people? Is there peace in Orphos?"
"I cannot deny that there is violence even in our homeland. Violence has always been with us. I only mean that people have always dreamed of peace as well. There is more that unites us than divides us. We all value our families. We all eat, we all love. There is unity in the world, even in something as simple as these cats."
That got a louder snort from Herakin, who brought his boots down to the floor loudly as he stood up. He marched closer and tried to stomp on one of the kittens, though Ulviab pulled it away first and stared up at him in disbelieving horror.
"How could you do such a thing?"
"You're talking like you know everyone is the same? You don't know shit. Do you know what humans do with your beloved cats in Fareshel? They kill them like pests, or torture them for fun. Soldiers like to throw them into sacks and set them on fire, and everyone laughs as they die. I bet they especially like killing the little ones."
Ulviab stared at him in horror. "That cannot... no one could be so heartless..."
"The world is a heartless place. Get used to it or you'll die."
"Have you been to Fareshel?" Slaten asked. He hadn't meant to speak at all, yet the question came spilling out before he could stop it. Herakin glared at him, but hesitated before answering.
"No. Heard enough stories to believe it, though. You're not going to tell me you've explored the whole continent to contradict me?"
"I have not visited it, no. But I do not believe it." As he spoke, Slaten began to feel more certain. "Everyone likes to tell stories about how horrible people are, far away from them. I've heard that mansthein tell stories about humans in the Chorhan Expanse eating each other, but we don't. We tell plenty of stories about you that aren't true. It's a way of denying that we're the same."
