A Hollow Mountain (The Brightest Shadow Book 2), page 67
"Ah." Slaten finally looked at her, clear human eyes piercing. "That is an interesting question. Why do you ask?"
"Because the effect of the Hero is unequal. It seems to overwhelm humans and force them to his cause, but for us, it produces only rage and hatred. Most mansthein are encouraged by the Zeitai, but humans fear them, do they not?"
"I am not certain that it is different than the fear of any master warrior. I have not met enough of them to be sure. But you said 'most mansthein' - do you feel an overwhelming hope in the presence of the Zeitai?"
"I certainly feel their presence." Celivia bit her lip, thinking of Kreue. She wanted to tell Slaten what she had seen in the pits, but couldn't know if he would understand. "Zeitai Kreue is a cruel man and the mansthein would be better off without him. But none of us are capable of stopping him now, not even Melal."
"I don't know what the right thing to do is now." Slaten pulled his sword from where it was hidden amid a pile of leaves and laid it across his lap. "Would meeting the Sage a second time make Melal worse? Is there anything that we could learn that would justify all these deaths?"
Suddenly restless, Celivia leapt to her feet. "These slaughters will only happen again and again. Perhaps the best thing we can do is reach the end of the Legend as quickly as possible."
"How?"
"I don't know for sure." As she stared toward the mountain, Celivia gave the first answer that came to mind. "According to the human Legend, the Hero will collect all the seals and then eradicate us. I cannot question that the Hero has some terrible power, but even according to the Sage, he is not the entire Legend. Maybe it isn't destined to end that way. Maybe if the mansthein claim all the seals, we can end the war without genocide."
"I am not convinced." The statement of uncertainty was hard as steel. "How many Zeitai are there?"
"There is no certain answer, but I know of five."
"Then the mansthein have claimed five seals. Has that brought us any closer to peace? It seems to me that all the Zeitai are like Kreue, bringing war and chaos along with them. They may be at the heart of the problem along with the Hero."
"No." Celivia struck the tree with her fist, her anger surprising her as much as Slaten. It took her several heartbeats to understand her own reaction. "The Legend tries to tell everyone that who we are doesn't matter, only what we represent. We both saw it: the Hero isn't a person, only a symbol. It's the same with the Zeitai: it claims that they aren't people who make decisions, but... but metaphors. I can't believe that's true."
"I see." Slaten sat back and contemplated her words seriously, and Celivia felt a pang of something she could not name. Eventually he spoke again. "It seems to me that the men and women who have become the Hero became overwhelmed by that role, but there was still something of them within. Is it the same with the Zeitai?"
"I've never known anyone before they ascended." Celivia forced herself to unclench her fist and considered. "The truth is that I don't know what most of the Zeitai want, but it isn't fair to consider them all the same. Zeitai Teirsan has done countless good works to improve mansthein society and I don't think he's ever gone to war with humans."
"But Melal will never stop warring against him, and the Hero cannot be killed..."
"What are you suggesting? That we lie down and allow him to slaughter our entire species?"
"Celivia, no..." Slaten slowly rose to his feet, his pained eyes forcing her to face him. "I don't have any answers. But I think we can agree that the Legend doesn't seem to end. It isn't just Melal's battles, everything around him is drawn into it."
"There must be another solution." She regretted her burst of anger, yet it had never been directed toward him, only toward the unstoppable horror they faced. "Teirsan was the one who sent me to gather information about the Hero. He didn't share his understanding with me, but he must believe that there's some way to stop him."
"I hope that is true. But I worry that the Legend only ever seems to flow into more Legend. Even if your people can fight back with stories of their own, will anything change?"
"I don't know." Celivia abruptly reached up and pulled the collar off Slaten's neck. "At least promise me that you'll do what you can."
"Always." His eyes met her gaze for a time, then drifted toward the mountain, visible through the pine needles. "But I don't know what should be done about the Sage."
"Neither do I. But I think we can agree on one thing: if there is a seal in the north, it is the cause of great suffering. Not only is it threatening to break Wahleen, it could cause a war across the Maenhu."
"It may already be too late. We heard many rumors of violence on our way south."
There were no answers and Celivia did not know how to begin. Standing alongside Slaten, staring at the mountain towering overhead, she felt both hope and hopelessness recede.
~ ~ ~
The fact that mansthein eyes were always red was so commonly known it was barely worth mentioning, yet in his time as a prisoner, Slaten had come to realize there was more diversity than he had ever noticed. Even working with Kolanin and other mansthein in Bundlin, he had struggled to see past the crimson shine. At most he had noted several different shapes, but now he saw far more.
Though the members of Celivia's band had slightly different coloring and mottling, they all had the same pupils: horizontal and slightly irregular. He had seen such before only in a few animals, such as bicorns. What he noted now was that they shifted their eyes or heads so that their pupils were nearly always parallel to the ground, though what that meant, he couldn't say.
Ghalia's eyes were the same at times, yet occasionally he saw her pupils shrink like a human facing a bright light, except hers became somewhat square. He hadn't noticed a pattern because he tried to avoid looking at Ghalia, since she would look back in a way that made him uncomfortable.
Celivia had intended for his capture to be a mere formality, yet the Catai's presence meant that he could never relax. She had left him earlier, but she still watched him at times. He recognized in her the spirit of one who enjoyed overpowering others, which made him wonder if that was how Tani and the other women at Ith Ire had felt. Slaten struggled to avoid those memories.
Strangely, he found himself thinking of Ghakin. The large Catai had been every bit as dangerous as Ghalia - even more so given their relative strength - but Slaten had never felt as unsafe with him. But Ghakin was long dead, decapitated by the Hero in a meaningless conflict.
Those memories swept away all others and he struggled to return to the present.
From her position away from the camp, Reina watched him like a predator. The raw hatred in her eyes actually worried him less than Ghalia's gaze, but there was little question that she wanted to dismember him with her cleavers. Her eyes were different from the others, red rings without a pupil, surrounded by bright blood vessels.
The rings constricted as she stared back at him, then she slid the edges of her cleavers together. Slaten looked away.
More than any of the others, he found himself analyzing Celivia's eyes. Aside from the color, they might have been considered the most human, but the similar shape masked other differences. Her irises were larger than a human's, filling her eyes with red. Her pupils seemed to expand and contract more as well, though he had difficulty catching the changes.
When they had fought in Keep Aryabaus, he remembered her eyes as black pinpricks within burning red. He'd never seen that again and almost wondered if it had been his mind playing tricks. Then again, he strongly suspected that it was connected to her mood. When she spoke with Reina, not only did she seem more comfortable, her pupils expanded to fill half her eyes.
Her eyes never looked like that when she spoke to him. It might mean nothing, but often when Slaten attempted to train, he found himself thinking about those eyes.
Pulling himself away from that thought, Slaten felt the silver spindle still held within his mantle. He had meant to ask Celivia more about it, but had hesitated to do so in the company of others. Most likely it was irrelevant, but he wondered if it might not be more useful to her than to him.
"We're leaving." Celivia appeared beside him, smiling distractedly, eyes no different from normal. "They've finished reorganizing, and the intact groups will march on Mount Tmil. You need to come with us."
"I understand." He rose to his feet and checked to make sure the collar wouldn't fall off. "Will that be a problem with other bands?"
"You may get some strange looks, but I can make excuses." Celivia undid the chain from the collar, but then apologetically picked up his sword. "Unfortunately, being seen with this would raise too many questions. I'll throw it to you if we're under attack."
He nodded his acceptance and then followed her as they joined the others. The band of eight men began moving with considerable grumbling, by now so accustomed to his presence that they barely gave him a look. They certainly didn't behave like Oken warriors, but he saw many similarities to the few Coran armies he had seen. Perhaps just as warriors were often similar the world over, so the job of soldier produced the same outcomes.
Which meant that he thought just like the Legend. Slaten wanted himself to be wrong, to know Celivia's soldiers as more than their role, but he doubted they wanted to speak with him. He remained quiet as they joined the rest of the army and began to march toward the mountain.
At first the words the band spoke in Futhik had been a babble to him unless he focused, but increasingly he understood whether he wanted to or not. Their rough speech had been difficult for him, different than the formal Futhik he'd learned in Bundlin. He noted that Celivia spoke differently with her band, matching their rough intonations, than when she spoke with her friends.
As he listened, he let his sein flow within him as usual. He never would have thought about it under normal circumstances, but surrounded by mansthein, he wondered if it would be seen as a threat. To his surprise, few seemed to care. Celivia had mentioned that her band had some sein training, but they didn't focus while they walked. When he looked around, he saw that most simply had their eyes on the mountain path.
Celivia's sein flowed within her, almost the same as when she had appeared human. Something was different about Reina, more like a seething throbbing within her. Ghalia's sein was a flood, and when she caught his gaze she raised her eyebrow ridges. Fortunately, she didn't approach.
After they had walked for some time, Celivia came to walk alongside him and spoke quietly. "This is my plan: we have you stay or go depending on the battle. If our army intends to take the mountain, you'll remain safe with me. If it goes poorly for us, use this chance to join the human village there."
"And if Melal makes an appearance?"
"Use your judgment, but join him again if necessary." Her hand slid over to where she held his blade at her hip. "I don't know how this should go, but I want both of us to stay alive."
"Thank you." It felt like the wrong thing to say, but he had nothing else. They walked in silence for a time, growing more uncomfortable until Slaten decided that he needed to speak. "May I ask a question about Catai?"
"Why not?" Celivia smiled in something that might have been relief but kept her gaze forward.
"When we fought earlier, you said that there was more than one type. But I think so far, all the Catai I have met are like Ghalia."
Ghalia whirled to shake a finger at them. "Oh, you haven't met any Catai like me." As Slaten winced to realize that she could hear them, she pushed back along the trail, not caring that she needed to shove some members of the band out of the way. "Just because we all begin with the same skin does not mean all Towd are equal, human. If you'd given me a chance, I'd have proven it to you."
"Proven that you think sex can be 'won' with brute force." Surprisingly, the voice was Reina's. Slaten looked at her in surprise and Ghalia laughed, but the next moment the small mansthein woman backed away as if she regretted saying anything. Considering that her words had drawn immediate attention from Slaten and the mansthein soldiers, he thought he might understand.
After a strange pause, Celivia spoke next. "Ghalia is what we call Towd Catai, and yes, it's the most common type. But it isn't true that you've seen no others. Do you remember Loravasik from Ith Ire? He was Gant Catai."
"Bah, Gant." Ghalia spat off the side of the path beside them. "Nothing but a Laenan imitation of the Towd form."
"Kolanin was also Catai in more than rank," Celivia said, "he was simply the most traditional form. Seirios Catai doesn't offer any immediate advantages like the Towd form, but those who can achieve it are formidable."
"That's actually true. Just after I made Catai, I had one of them hand my ass to me. It took me almost a year before I could ever pin him."
Slaten absorbed the information from both of them, curious about all the details they implied. He noted that the soldiers seemed to be listening closely as well, so it seemed that even in the mansthein army, such details were not common knowledge. When he saw a break in their conversation, he asked his next question. "I fought a mansthein man who... I'm not sure how to describe it. Sometimes his hands looked like jaws to me. He broke a sword with his bare hands."
"Ilankril Catai." Reina spoke up, though she frowned as if she did so against her will. "They're rare."
"You aren't wrong in what you saw," Celivia said. "It isn't so dissimilar to how the raiding clans have unusually durable bodies due to their practice of sein, but with a Catai rebirth, it can be much more dramatic. You could think of his hands as partially formed of sein, able to transform at will. Not to anything, but to the form you saw, better suited for combat."
"Mansthein can do that?" Though Slaten had meant to ask the same question, he hadn't spoken: one of the larger soldiers had blurted it out. He swallowed as if embarrassed as everyone looked at him, but his reaction was useful. Clearly, it was an advanced technique.
Ghalia shook her head. "Always struck me as damn inconvenient. But you wanted to be Ilankril Catai for a while, Celi. Is that still your goal?"
"I'm not sure what form I would take."
"Then become a Towd!' Ghalia grinned mockingly. "You could probably keep all that beautiful hair if you worked at it. Of course, you'd end up with the wrong kind of curves..."
Though Celivia rolled her eyes as if it was an old joke, Slaten knew there was something more there. Their conversation had been over a year ago, but he thought that she had shown a clear goal. Unless she had changed her mind, she had intentionally withheld that information from Ghalia. There was something between them, perhaps a friendship gone rotten, but he didn't dare ask about it.
Instead he looked back to Reina, who again glared hatred at him. "What do you call the technique that you use? I've seen it several times, but I still don't understand it."
"It's called seinrage, and I'll not explain it to you." She pointedly walked to the other side of Celivia and refused to look at him. The taller mansthein woman gave him an apologetic smile.
"I don't think a human could perform it, and if you could, you wouldn't want to. If you think of the sein within your body as blood, seinrage is like tearing open every vessel at once. Only Bersk mansthein can survive it."
He wanted to ask more, but the question clearly made Reina unhappy. Though he still didn't entirely understand her, the woman's policy on attacking him with cleavers was well established, so he left the subject behind. As much as he wanted to take the opportunity to learn more about mansthein, he felt as though every question placed him on a thin ledge among conflicts he didn't know. He was little better than a stranger arriving in the Chorhan Expanse and assuming all cultures there were the same.
Then he saw Tani ahead of him and all other questions fell away.
She raised a finger to her lips, then slipped back into a crevice. He had only seen her for a flickering moment, so briefly that he would have questioned if it had been real, if he hadn't seen her methods of obscuring herself before. For the rest of their march he couldn't focus, trying to catch glimpses of her as he decided what he should do.
First, he desperately hoped that she wouldn't attempt a violent rescue. Hopefully she would not risk her life in her vendetta against Celivia, and at the least he thought he could trust in her judgment not to attack when she was so outnumbered. After that, he wondered what she intended, or if she represented others. If Melal intended to ambush the group, should he warn Celivia?
He reached no answers before they stopped for the night, now much closer to Mount Tmil. They gave him some of their rations to eat but Slaten didn't taste any of them. Soon it was too much and he said he needed to relieve himself. As he'd hoped, no one bothered to guard him.
There were few trees this high in the mountains, but when he stepped around a craggy corner, Tani slipped from the shadows. She smiled warmly, but her gaze lingered on his collar. "Slaten. I'm relieved you're safe."
"Celivia saved me." He undid the metal collar and let it dangle from one hand. "How much do you know about the mansthein army's intentions? She's been very forthcoming with me."
"I'm not claiming that she hates you, Slaten. But you should know better than anyone that our safety is not her highest priority. If she has to choose..."
"Between what?" Celivia landed lightly beside them and they both flinched. When Tani started to draw her sickle knife and paused, Celivia gave her a sharp smile. "You're impressively quiet, but you aren't the only one whose senses have improved."
Tani's eyes tightened, but she restrained herself, hands at her side as stiff as dead limbs. "I'm taking Slaten back now."
"I wouldn't stand in your way. But unless you want there to be another battle like the last one, please speak to me first. Is Melal coming with an army?"
"I left him after the battle. He was determined to reach Mount Tmil then, but I don't know where he is." Tani pinched the bridge of her nose for several heartbeats and then spoke in a flatter voice. "Why exactly are you here, Celivia? You somehow think it would be best for the world if you killed the Sage?"
"I don't know if it would be for the best. But it was my assignment, and-"
