The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Chapter 21

Wirr yawned.

There was still no sign of Taeris and Nihim – or Davian, for that matter. No-one had spoken much since their departure; he had exchanged a couple of friendly words with Caeden, but Aelric and Dezia seemed happy to keep to themselves.

Wirr was fine with that. Aelric and his attitude had been getting under his skin; every time the other boy spoke, Wirr had to stop himself from making a snide remark in return. Perhaps it was just the young man’s obvious reluctance to be there, or perhaps it was his apparent belief that he was not amongst equals. Either way, Wirr was going to enjoy the moment Aelric discovered who he’d been treating with such contempt.

Dezia, though… his eyes wandered over to her and remained fixed there. He inwardly cursed his lack of attentiveness to the girls at Caladel. Ignoring them had been the right thing to do, of course - but it had resulted in him being woefully inexperienced when it came to women.

Then he forced down the sudden, unexpected lump in his throat at the thought of the school. Those girls were all dead, now. Because of him.

Dezia glanced up, catching his absent-minded stare before he had a chance to look away. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks, but she just smiled at him, murmuring something to Aelric – who looked displeased and tried unsuccessfully to keep her seated – before rising and making her way around the fire to join him.

“You look like you might be better company than my brother right now,” she said cheerfully as she sat.

Wirr gave her a polite smile, trying not to show any of the grief still sharp in his chest. “That’s a low bar, but I’ll take it.” He grimaced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean….”

Dezia grinned. “Yes you did. And you’re right. Aelric is about as cheerful as an empty barn in winter when he gets like this.”

Wirr smiled, relaxing a little. He looked towards Aelric, seeing the young man throwing a fierce scowl in their direction. “So there are times he doesn’t look like that?”

Dezia snuck a look at Aelric and then turned back to Wirr, giving a small laugh. “Occasionally. Around Karaliene, mainly.” She sighed. “The princess told me what happened. She swore to Aelric that the two of you aren’t… involved, but he’s not the type to let something like that go easily.”

Wirr frowned in confusion. “You mean he thought…” He shook his head, chuckling. “No.”

“I know. But he doesn’t know who you are, so he’s not convinced.” She made a face. “Though he should still be content to take Karaliene’s word,” she added, mostly to herself.

It took a few moments for what Dezia had said to sink in. “Karaliene told you who I am?” Wirr asked in a low voice, suddenly focused.

Dezia nodded. “Not the whole story, but enough. I hope you don’t mind.”

Wirr shook his head, smiling. “No. If Karaliene trusts you, so do I.” He was surprised to find it was true. “You must be close.”

Dezia gave a modest shrug. “We’re friends.” She cast an uncertain glance at Caeden, who was a small distance away but potentially still within earshot. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be talking about this now, though.”

Wirr hesitated, then stood, offering his hand to Dezia. “There’s still a little light left. Perhaps you’d like to walk with me for a while?” Dezia raised an eyebrow. “To talk,” Wirr clarified hurriedly. “I have plenty of questions about what’s been happening back home, but I can’t ask them around the others.”

Dezia smiled. “Of course.” She took Wirr’s hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

They were about to stroll away when Aelric’s voice cut through the quiet, thick with irritation. “Where are you going?”

Dezia sighed, turning back to her brother. “For a walk.”

Aelric stood, anger now plain on his face. He crossed to them in a few quick strides, grabbing Dezia by the arm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Wirr scowled. “Leave her alone, you fool,” he said without thinking.

A heartbeat later he discovered he had the tip of a sword at his throat. The camp had gone deathly silent, everyone watching on in concern; the air had a tense feel to it, as if there was violence in it just waiting to happen. Wirr stayed perfectly still, not sure how far to trust Aelric’s judgment.

“Perhaps you would like to duel with the fool,” Aelric said in an icy tone. “First to draw blood?”

Wirr shook his head slowly. He was angry, but he knew he would be no match for Aelric.

Aelric stepped back, lowering his sword with a look of smug satisfaction. “Just as I thought.”

“I’ll duel with you.”

Aelric’s expression froze. Everyone turned as one to see Caeden reclining lazily on the ground, regarding the young swordsman with a half-amused, half-annoyed expression.

Aelric snorted. “Put a sword in the hands of a murderer? I think not.”

Caeden merely raised an eyebrow at the insult. “‘Every man who holds a sword in his hand, holds murder in his heart.’”

“What?” Aelric looked bemused. Wirr didn’t recognise the reference either – Caeden was clearly quoting someone – but Aelric’s hesitation only lasted a moment. “Very well,” he snarled, striding over to one of the horses and locating a well-wrapped blade in one of the saddlebags.

He tossed the sword at Caeden so that it clattered to the ground at his feet.

“Aelric, stop,” Dezia said in a worried tone. Wirr felt as concerned as she sounded. The expression on Aelric’s face was murderous.

“Caeden, don’t do this,” Wirr said seriously. “I appreciate it, but it’s not worth getting hurt.”

Caeden shook his head as he stooped to pick up the sword. He smiled as he hefted it in his hand, gauging its weight. “Thank-you, Wirr, but I’ll be fine,” he said absently, giving the sword an experimental swing. To Wirr’s surprise, he seemed to know how to handle the weapon.

Caeden walked away from the fire, over to where Aelric was waiting. Wirr and Dezia backed away, giving the two boys plenty of room.

Aelric’s expression reminded Wirr of a cat looking at a mouse it had finally cornered.

“Let’s begin,” he said, his smile confident. “Touch.”

Caeden followed the form by tapping Aelric’s outstretched blade with his own, and then they were on their guard, circling warily. Wirr watched with trepidation, wondering if he should intervene and stop the fight before it began. Aside from his personal concern for Caeden, an injury to either man could spell disaster for their journey, and Aelric’s temperament was clearly not to be relied upon.

Suddenly Aelric attacked, faster than Wirr would have believed possible. Caeden’s sword leapt up to meet the challenge; the sound of steel clashing against steel rang out as Aelric struck again and again in quick succession, raining down blows as Caeden desperately defended. Then the attack was broken off and Aelric was back on the balls of his feet, watching and circling, a little out of breath.

Wirr ran his hands through his hair in helpless frustration. “This is folly,” he said as calmly as he could, addressing both combatants. “If one of you gets hurt, it puts us all in danger.”

Aelric responded with another flurry of blows; for the first time, Wirr noticed how smoothly Caeden was responding. For every graceful move forward by Aelric, Caeden had a fluid counter.

And he was fast.

Wirr watched, mouth agape as Caeden turned aside another of Aelric’s attacks, his sword a blur, every small movement liquid. Beads of sweat had begun to form on Aelric’s brow, and Wirr thought he saw a flash of concern on the young nobleman’s face.

Then Caeden attacked.

Everything just… flowed; there was no telling where one move began and another ended. Caeden moved forward calmly, methodically, as if the motion cost him no effort, no energy at all. Yet his blade sang in front of him, impossible for the eye to follow, forcing Aelric back and back until they were almost at the road.

Aelric faltered.

Wirr watched in disbelief as Aelric’s sword cartwheeled through the air, falling several feet away. Aelric stumbled backward and fell, raising his hands in surrender as the point of Caeden’s sword rested above his heart.

A few long seconds passed in silence, everyone frozen.

Wirr turned his gaze to Caeden’s face, suddenly nervous for a very different reason. The young man’s expression had barely changed, but something in his eyes….

Wirr shivered, and it was not from the cold.

“Caeden,” he called out.

The sound seemed to break something within Caeden, who slowly lowered his sword, eventually tossing it aside to join Aelric’s.

“If you want to act the fool in future, be prepared for someone to call you on it,” he said softly.

He turned and retreated to the campfire, sitting down without another word.

The others were still staring at him in shock when Davian emerged from the darkened road, a little out of breath. He nodded to Wirr, then frowned when he took in the scene before him.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Wirr shook his head, still unwilling to believe what he’d just seen. He lowered his voice. “You hear anything interesting?”

“Nothing that made any sense.” Davian glanced behind him. “They shouldn’t be far -”

There was motion just beyond the light of the campfire, and then Taeris and Nihim were crashing through the surrounding brush, the urgency of their arrival drawing everyone’s attention.

“Sha’teth. Get your weapons,” Taeris said without preamble, quietly but with such force that everyone leapt to obey.

Soon they were all arranged in a tight circle with their backs to the campfire, silent, each one straining to see into the gathering gloom. Wirr’s heart pounded, limbs heavy with dread as he remembered their last encounter with one of the creatures.

“Which direction?” whispered Dezia to Taeris, her bow at the ready.

"Out there," said Taeris, gesturing a little to the left of where he and Nihim had emerged. “We cut through the forest on the way back, spotted it amongst the trees. It saw us, too, but….” Taeris shook his head, looking troubled. "It didn’t attack. It seemed like it was just watching the camp."

"Isn’t that a good thing?" asked Aelric.

"I suppose. Just… strange," replied Taeris, his expression uneasy as he stared into the darkness.

The silence began to stretch, the tension almost unbearable. Then the hush was suddenly broken by a low, hissing voice that seemed to come from all directions at once. It was difficult to tell, but Wirr thought it sounded female.

“Darei ildos Tal’kamar sha’teth,” it said.

“Where is it?” murmured Davian.

Wirr’s eyes strained against the darkness, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary. “What did it say?”

Taeris didn’t reply straight away. “I think it’s telling us to hand Caeden over,” he said eventually. To Wirr’s left, Caeden gave a small, nervous nod of confirmation.

“Darei ildos Tal’kamar sha’teth,” the voice hissed again. “Sha’teth eldris karathgar si.”

Taeris shook his head. “Eldarei Tal’kamar,” he called out. “Sha’teth eldris gildin.”

The low, rasping sound of the sha’teth’s laughter filled the air. “Your Darecian is not what it once was, Taeris Sarr.”

Everyone’s heads swivelled towards Taeris in surprise, but he ignored the looks. “What do you want?” he shouted into the darkness.

“You know what I want,” came the whispery-hoarse voice. It was definitely female, Wirr decided. “Give him to me, and I will leave you unharmed.”

“No.” Taeris was emphatic.

“So quick to decide the fate of all,” hissed the voice. “Perhaps your companions think differently?”

“No.” It was Davian.

“No,” Wirr added. He was mimicked by Nihim and Dezia.

Aelric gave Caeden a long look. “No,” he said into the darkness.

“Fools,” whispered the voice.

There was silence.

After a few minutes had passed, Wirr could bear the strain no longer. “Do you think it‘s gone?” he asked to no-one in particular.

“Yes,” said Taeris, relaxing his stance. “I think it has.”

Wirr felt his muscles loosen a little as he took a deep breath. Beside him, he could hear the others doing the same.

Caeden looked around at them. “Thank-you,” he said. He glanced across at Aelric, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgement. Aelric hesitated, then gave a brief nod back.

Taeris put a hand on Caeden’s shoulder. “Nothing to thank us for, lad.”

Dezia turned to the older man, frowning. "How did it know your name?"

Taeris shrugged. "When I was on the Council at Tol Athian, there were occasions I had to deal with the sha’teth. Apparently I made an impression," he said wryly. Then he frowned. “The bigger question is, why didn’t it attack?”

Nihim coughed. “This may sound foolish, but… could it have been afraid? Or at least cautious? The way it was hanging back when we saw it, almost like it was hesitating….”

Taeris rubbed his chin. "Perhaps. We did kill one of its brothers, and nobody’s done that before." He shook his head. "It’s hard to say. Once, I would have said no. But if they are truly out of Athian’s control, there’s no telling what else has changed."

Nihim accepted the statement with a thoughtful nod, and everyone began drifting back to their positions around the campfire. Wirr caught himself staring at Dezia again as she took her seat, until a gentle hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“Go easy,” Caeden said to him, keeping his voice low. “I think you’ve antagonized Aelric enough for one evening.”

Wirr glared for a moment, then gave a brief, rueful laugh. “I suppose you’re right.” He looked Caeden in the eye. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you. What you did was… amazing. How did you…?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” admitted Caeden, sounding weary. “But I was glad to help.”

They moved back to the fire. Conversation was stilted at first – everyone was on edge, listening to the sounds of the surrounding forest for any signs of attack. None came, however, and eventually the group lapsed into sporadic, distracted conversation until tiredness overtook their unease.

Wirr was normally quick to sleep, but tonight he found himself awake long after everyone else’s breathing was deep and regular around him. He had his back to the fire, but he knew that only Nihim and Caeden were still up, having drawn first watch.

“You’re troubled.” It was Nihim breaking the silence, evidently addressing Caeden.

“That’s nothing new,” came the soft reply.

Wirr wondered whether he should move around, make it obvious he was still awake.

“More than usual, then,” said Nihim.

There was a long silence, and Wirr was beginning to wonder whether Caeden was simply ignoring the priest when he responded, “I duelled. With Aelric.”

“I see.” There was a hesitation in Nihim’s voice. “Aelric is an immensely talented swordsman. Losing to him -”

“I didn’t lose.” Caeden’s voice was flat and low.

There was another long silence. “You must be an impressive swordsman.”

“I suppose so.” Caeden gave a bitter laugh. “Interesting skills for a simple farm boy.”

“I think we both know that whatever else you are, you’re no farm boy.” A pause. “Neither of you was hurt?”

“No. But… I was angry. I… almost hurt him. I wanted to hurt him.” Caeden choked the words out like they were poison.

“And that scared you?”

“It terrified me.”

“Good. That’s good.” Wirr could hear cloth rustling as Nihim shifted. “Everyone has a darker nature, Caeden. Everyone. Good men fear it, and evil men embrace it. Good men are still tempted to do the wrong thing, but they resist those urges. As you did. You have nothing to worry about.”

There was a moment of silence. “That doesn’t sound like the teachings of Marut Jha.”

Nihim gave a soft chuckle. “Marut Jha doesn’t trouble himself with definitions like ‘good’ and ‘evil’. No – my priesthood here has never been anything more than a facade. My belief is in El, the One God.”

“The god of the Augurs. The god of predestination.”

“That’s right.” Nihim sounded surprised at Caeden’s knowledge. “El sees everything, is in perfect and absolute control. The Great Design, it’s called. Everything that happens runs according to His purpose.”

“Remind me to thank him for my last couple of months.”

Nihim chuckled again. “I didn’t say He was responsible, I said it runs according to His purpose. Shammaeloth has his influences over this world, too. He fights, but it’s simply that he is in a war he cannot win, because every move he makes has already been accounted for by El.”

There was silence for a few seconds. “Then why does El not simply finish him and be done with it? Stop every move he makes?” Caeden sounded irritated. “Terrible things happen all the time. It hardly feels like he’s losing.”

“The point is, he’s not losing - he’s already lost. What you see are his death throes. Shammaeloth was bound to this world in the Genesis War, and thus bound by time. He was trapped here, and now all he fights for is souls to serve him in his prison.”

“He must not be doing a very good job. I haven’t heard of many followers of Shammaeloth,” observed Caeden, his tone dubious.

“It doesn’t work like that. At the end of time, El will leave this world, taking those who gave him their faith. When he does, what protection this world has will vanish, and it will fall to Shammaeloth to rule what remains – and only what remains – for eternity. Any who do not leave with El will be left here and serve him, like it or not.”

There was a pause, Caeden obviously digesting this. “I can’t say I like the idea of not being in control of my own destiny,” he said eventually. "If everything is already laid out, if there really is a Great Design, wouldn’t that mean we have no free will?”

Nihim grunted. "I can’t tell you how many times I heard that same question debated, back in the Augurs' day," he admitted. “There are a lot of differing opinions, but I certainly think we have free will. Just because El knows each choice I’m going to make – even if he created me knowing it’s the choice I would make - doesn’t mean it’s not mine.” He sighed. “But, perhaps, it’s still not free will as you would think of it. That’s the natural arrogance of man, sadly. We want to believe that free will means complete independence from the plans of our creator.”

There was a contemplative silence. “Tell me one thing, though," said Caeden after a while. "Since the Augurs fell… how can you still have faith?”

“Because my faith is in El. It was never in the Augurs or what they were once capable of,” explained Nihim. “You can put your trust in something that’s obvious, that’s measurable or predictable - but that’s not faith. Nor is believing in something that gives you no pause for doubt, no reason or desire to question. Faith is something more than that. By definition, it cannot have proof as its foundation.”

There was another silence. “That makes sense, I suppose. It’s something to think on,” Caeden conceded eventually, sounding more polite than convinced.

“That’s good. But you should think on it, Caeden. It’s important, regardless of what conclusion you come to.”

“Why?”

“Because it strikes me that a man needs to know what he believes before he can really know who he is.”

Wirr didn’t hear Caeden’s response, but after a few more moments there was the sound of yawning, and Nihim chuckled. “I hope it’s not the conversation, lad, but you look like you can barely keep your eyes open,” he said. “Perhaps you should get some sleep. I can take the rest of the watch.”

"It’s not the conversation. Just a long day," Caeden assured him with another yawn. “You’re right, though - I might take you up on that offer, if it’s no trouble. Thank-you.” There were some scuffling sounds as Caeden made himself comfortable, and soon enough another note of regular breathing joined the others.

Wirr lay awake for a little longer, wondering at the conversation he’d overheard.

Eventually though, his eyes shut of their own accord, and he knew nothing more until dawn.