The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Chapter 4

Davian was numb as he tethered Jeni.

Ilseth had already departed in the direction of the Elders’ quarters, murmuring something about finding his travelling companions. Davian finished his task and trudged towards Talean’s office, still light-headed, scar throbbing as it always did when stress got the better of him. The tiny hope he’d been clinging to for the last few months had finally faded. Disappeared.

The Administrator stood as Davian entered, grimacing as he saw the expression on the boy’s face. “You’ve heard.”

Davian nodded, his chest tight. “I met one of the Elders in Caladel.” He recounted the incident in town.

Talean shook his head, looking dismayed. “I am sorry, Davian.” He scowled to himself. “And embarrassed. I will speak to Administration in Caladel first thing tomorrow, you have my word.”

Davian inclined his head. He knew the Administrator who had ignored his plight would never be identified, but he appreciated the gesture. “Thank-you.”

Talean was silent for a few moments as he placed his hand on the Shackle around Davian’s arm. “I’ve been thinking about your situation. I am happy to plead your case, if you wish me to,” he said suddenly as the cold force that had been sitting beneath Davian’s skin seemed to draw back into the torc. Talean removed the device and placed it back in its cupboard, continuing, “For most people, the extra few weeks wouldn’t matter. But for you, they may have made a difference. There is no reason the Gifted cannot take you along to Tol Athian, put you through the Trials at the proper time.”

Davian felt like a drowning man clutching at a piece of driftwood. “Do you think they would agree to that?”

“I don’t know,” said Talean honestly. "I don’t know what these Elders are like.” He hesitated. “I cannot use the Fourth Tenet to make them do it, though. I hope you understand that.”

Davian nodded; the thought had occurred to him, but Talean was right. “You can’t interfere with the affairs of the school. I know,” he said. “If you would speak to them on my behalf, though, I would be in your debt.” Talean wasn’t like the Administrators in Caladel – or anywhere else, if the stories were true. He believed in the Treaty, in protecting the Gifted just as much as protecting everyone else from them. He would do his best to help.

Talean gave him a slight smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just remember that we Administrators are not all bad, and that will be payment enough.”

Davian nodded, unable to summon a smile in return. “When can you talk to them?”

Talean glanced out the window. Davian followed his gaze to see three red-cloaked figures – one of them Ilseth – striding across the courtyard towards the Elders’ quarters.

“No time like the present,” noted Talean, pulling his blue cloak across his shoulders. “I’ll find you as soon as I have an answer.”

Davian swallowed, suddenly nervous again as he watched Talean hurry after the newcomers.

He made his way back to his room, avoiding eye contact with the other students he passed. Word had spread of tomorrow’s Trials, and everyone knew what that meant for Davian; with less than a hundred people living within the school walls, his inability to use the Gift was far from a secret.

Some people still stopped him as he passed and wished him luck for the morning, their expressions bidding him a pitying farewell. Those conversations always died out, the well-wishers trailing off awkwardly and eventually retreating. Others glanced away when they saw him, as if they feared that by acknowledging him, they would somehow share his fate.

He’d thought that reaching the relative safety of his quarters would help matters, but he only had to glance at the faces of Wirr and Asha – who were waiting for him – to know he was wrong. The rims of Asha’s eyes were red, and Wirr was more subdued than he had ever seen his friend. Davian opened the door to let them inside, then slumped onto his bed, the last of his energy leaving him.

Asha and Wirr sat either side of him, silent for a time. Asha eventually put her arm around his shoulders and pressed him close to her. Her physical proximity would normally have made Davian awkward, but today it made him feel like his heart was being wrenched from his chest.

Just like everyone else, this was her saying goodbye.

They sat there for what seemed like minutes, Davian letting Asha’s soft blond hair press against his cheek. Eventually he took a deep breath and straightened, forcing a smile.

“If you two could stand it one last time,” he began in a light tone, careful not to choke on his emotions, “ perhaps you could keep me company this evening?”

They both nodded immediately. “Of course,” said Wirr. He hesitated. “Do you want to practice at all?”

Davian shook his head. “I just want to spend some time with my friends,” he said softly.

Wirr’s face twisted for a moment, revealing the depth of his pain. It was gone in an instant. “Then so it shall be,” he said with a smile.

After a while longer they wandered back downstairs, taking their dinner and then finding their usual spot atop the tall, west-facing wall of the school. The view over Caladel and the ocean beyond was spectacular as always; the setting sun bathed everything in a warm, almost otherworldly orange glow. A few of the returning fishing vessels were silhouetted against the glittering water, making their way tranquilly into harbour at the end of a long day. A great hawk circled above them; the three of them just watched the majestic creature soar for a while, mesmerised, silent but completely comfortable in each others’ company.

Davian closed his eyes for a second, capturing the image: sitting with his friends high above everything, his troubles for just a moment held at bay. It was perfect. A perfect farewell to his friends, his life. He would remember this and always think of better times.

They talked of small things. Davian decided not to tell them about Talean’s efforts to help; as more time passed, he became increasingly sure that a reprieve would not come. He would face his Trials tomorrow, the same as everyone else of age. And he would face the consequences of failure as stoically as he could.

Finally the sun dipped below the horizon, and the gentle sea breeze soon became unbearably cold. When they reached the bottom of the wall, Talean was waiting for them. One look at his face told Davian all he needed to know.

“It seems I am saying this a lot today, Davian,” said Talean, voice rough with emotion, “ but I am sorry. They refused.”

Though Davian had been expecting it, the news still felt like a punch to the stomach. “Thank-you for trying,” he said, doing his best to sound calm.

Talean inclined his head. “El be with you tomorrow,” he said, a hint of sadness in his tone. Davian blinked; he’d never heard an Administrator invoke the Old Religion before.

Talean looked as though he was going to say more, then spun on his heel and walked away.

Wirr and Asha both gave Davian a questioning look, but he just shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said heavily. His last sliver of hope gone, tiredness came crashing in. “I think perhaps I should get some sleep." He forced a smile at the other two. “It’s a big day tomorrow.”

His friends smiled back, though he could see the pain in their eyes. Wirr nodded, and Asha gave him a lingering hug. “We will see you in the morning, Dav,” she said, looking close to tears.

He gave them one last, tight smile, and headed back up to the North Tower. As soon as his door was shut he collapsed into bed, not even bothering to undress.

Oddly enough, now his fate was sealed, he had no trouble sleeping.

The soft, insistent tapping at the door pricked at Davian’s consciousness.

He lay there for a few seconds as the events of the day came flooding back, settling like a physical weight on his chest. He rolled onto his side, staring out the window into the darkness beyond. It was still pitch-black night – he wasn’t sure how late, exactly, but there was dead silence from the courtyard below, a sure indicator that it was at least past midnight.

The gentle knocking at the door came a second time, finally rousing him. He frowned as he sat up. It didn’t sound like Wirr’s usual confident rap, but perhaps his friend was just exercising some extra caution. Being caught out this late, the night before the Trials, would undoubtedly bring down the wrath of the Elders.

He crossed the room and opened the door, blinking in the sudden torchlight. Ilseth Tenvar stood in the hallway, looking nervous.

“Elder Tenvar!” Davian said bemusedly. There was an awkward pause. The Elders conducting the Trials normally stayed overnight in Caladel, making Ilseth’s presence doubly surprising. “How can I help you?”

Ilseth glanced around, clearly uneasy. “May I come in?” He clutched something small in his left hand, but it was covered in cloth, concealed from view.

Davian shrugged. “Very well,” he said, trying not to sound too reluctant.

Ilseth entered, shutting the door behind him. Noting the open window, he crossed the room and shut that, too. Looking around and apparently satisfied, he took the chair at Davian’s desk; Davian perched opposite him on the bed, still trying to deduce what was happening.

Ilseth paused for a moment, composing himself. Then he made a few gestures in the air; streams of energy flowed from his fingertips, settling into the walls around them.

Davian frowned; he’d seen this done before. Ilseth was Silencing the room.

Once he had finished, Ilseth stared at the cloth-covered bundle in his hands. “Before we begin,” he said, tone grave, “ you need to know that I am sorry to put this burden on you.” He scratched his beard, then took a deep breath. “There is no easy way to say this. I know you’re an Augur, Davian.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in.

Davian felt the blood drain from his face; he leaned back, as if physical distance from Ilseth would somehow help. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ilseth held out his hands in a calming motion. “I am not going to turn you in,” he said quickly. “But I do need you to be honest with me. It’s true?”

Davian stared at the floor for several seconds, heart thudding as he struggled to sort through a wild tangle of emotions. Finally he took a deep, steadying breath, squaring his shoulders. There had been no black smoke from Ilseth’s mouth. The Elder was telling the truth - he wasn’t going to turn him in.

“It… might be,” he admitted reluctantly. “I’ve never had visions of the future, if that’s what you mean. But I’ve always been able to tell when someone is lying to me… it could be a form of Reading, I suppose. I’ve never really been sure.” He frowned. “How did you know?”

"We’ve been watching you. Your inability to use Essence is an indicator, and…" Ilseth shook his head. “The details are not important, Davian, and there isn’t enough time to explain everything. What is important is that you trust me. I need you to use your ability now. I need you to Read me, to believe what I’m about to tell you.” He looked Davian in the eye. “Will you do that?”

Davian nodded. He was concentrating on what Ilseth was saying; his ability would do the rest. “Go ahead. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

Ilseth gave him a relieved smile, then began unwrapping the package in his hands. The white cloth fell away to reveal a small box made of bronze, with intricate details etched into each face of the cube. Ilseth held the box carefully, almost gingerly.

“Our meeting in town today was no accident. I came looking for you,” the Elder admitted. He hesitated. “What do you know of the Boundary?”

Davian frowned. “The barrier of Essence in the north? It’s… old. Impassable.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. "It’s from the time of the Eternity War, I think. From the golden age of the Gifted. So it was created… a thousand years ago? Two?"

“Closer to two.” Ilseth didn’t take his eyes from the box in his hands, its burnished surface seeming to glow in the dim light. "And do you know why it was built? How it came into being?"

"Only what the stories from the Old Religion say." Davian scratched his head, trying to recall what little he’d been taught of the Eternity War, drowsiness still slowing his mental processes a little. "It was to seal off Aarkein Devaed and his creatures… to trap him before he completed his invasion. Before he wiped out everyone in Andarra, if you believe that sort of thing."

"That’s right." Ilseth’s tone was serious. "It’s not a myth, though. Devaed was very much real - not the embodiment of evil the Old Religion would have you think, perhaps, but he was certainly a very powerful, very dangerous man. And the creatures he commanded were real, too. Truly terrible things that even the Darecians, at the height of their powers, couldn’t kill."

Davian frowned. "How can you be sure?"

"There were once entire books devoted to that period of history. Accounts from people living during the Eternity War." Ilseth gave a rueful shake of his head. "Like everything else, though, we kept them at the library at Tol Thane. I’m one of maybe five or six people still alive who once took an interest in that era."

Davian nodded slowly. Tol Thane had been burned to the ground in one of the first attacks of the war, and the vast store of knowledge the Gifted had kept there had been destroyed. He’d often heard the Elders lamenting how much had been lost that day.

"I believe you," he said eventually. "But what does all this have to do with me?"

Ilseth gazed at Davian for a long moment, assessing him. He took a deep breath. "The Boundary is weakening, Davian. Failing. We know how to fix it, but it was created by the Augurs… and without the Augurs' powers, we can’t do anything about it." He rubbed his hands together, a nervous motion. "Devaed is long dead, of course, but there have been… incidents in the north. People disappearing, or dying in the most violent ways imaginable. Sightings of creatures that match the description of dar’gaithin, eletai, shar’kath - some of the worst monsters from the time of the Eternity War." He shook his head. "Some things have already got through - things that no-one alive today is equipped to deal with. There’s no telling what else is waiting beyond if that barrier fails completely."

Davian looked at Ilseth in disbelief. "And you want me to help? But… I have no training. No idea how to -"

"That’s okay." Ilseth made a calming gesture. "Have you heard of the sig’nari?"

"Of course. The Prefects - the Gifted who served directly under the Augurs."

Ilseth nodded. “I was one, before the Unseen War. A few of us survived, and we’ve been watching for the return of the Augurs. For you, and others like you.” He held out the cube towards Davian. “We’re gathering the Augurs again, Davian. Trying to fix this before a terrible evil is unleashed upon Andarra, and hopefully help the new generation of Augurs in the process. If you are willing, this will lead you to somewhere you can be trained. To people who can help you understand and use your abilities.”

Davian rubbed his temples; his head had begun to ache. He sat in stunned silence for a few seconds. “Do the other Elders from the Tol know about this? About… me?"

“No.” Ilseth grimaced. “The truth is, Davian, very few of the Gifted can be trusted with your secret. The Tol has been split for years on what to do should an Augur ever be found. Regardless of what is happening at the Boundary, people like me see the Augurs as our way back to restoring balance in Andarra, to stopping the oppression of the Gifted.”

Davian gave a slow nod. “And the others?”

“Would see everyone with those abilities dead.” Ilseth said the words flatly. “And they are in the majority. You said it yourself – many Gifted still hate the Augurs for what happened, for what they seemingly threw away. And like it or not, people will think of you as one of them, no matter how you differ from what they eventually became.”

Davian was silent for several seconds. Ilseth hadn’t lied.

He leaned forward, taking the bronze box from the Elder.

“You said this will guide me, somehow? How does it work?” Davian turned the box over in his hands. It emitted a slight warmth, more than it should have from simply retaining Ilseth’s body heat. It was covered in minute, strange symbols - writing, perhaps, though it was no language that Davian had ever seen.

“I’m… not sure,” admitted Ilseth. “I think it’s a Vessel, though it’s older than most I’ve seen before. But I don’t know how to use it.” He made a face. “I’m only told what I need to know. That way, if I’m ever discovered, I can’t give away anything important.”

“Then what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Just take it north. Do that, and I promise it will take you where you need to go.” Ilseth leaned forward. “You see now why I needed you to Read me, Davian? You’re going to have to take a lot on faith. You need to leave tonight. Now. If you stay, by sunset tomorrow you’ll be a Shadow, and all of this will have been for nothing.”

Davian gazed at Ilseth for a moment longer, massaging his temples again to ease his aching head. No puffs of black smoke had escaped Ilseth’s mouth while he’d been speaking. He was telling the truth. Davian felt a little dizzy, trying to take it all in. “I need to talk with Elder Olin.”

“No.” The force of Ilseth’s response surprised Davian. The older man hesitated, then sighed. “I’m sorry, Davian, but if the Elders here find out, they will tell your Administrator. And you may have a good relationship with Talean, but if he finds out you’re an Augur, he is bound by the Treaty to turn you in. You know that.”

Davian opened his mouth to respond, but Ilseth held up a hand, forestalling his protest. “Even if I’m wrong, and you can trust the Elders not to say anything - do you really think Elder Olin would just let you go? Leave the school without a Shackle, unbound by the Fourth Tenet, with no explanation, on your word? Even on mine? You can trust me because you know I’m not lying. No-one else has that advantage.”

Davian hesitated. Ilseth was right; none of the Elders would just let him leave, no matter how much trust there was between them.

He acknowledged the statement with a terse nod. He was trapped, underwater with nowhere to surface. The entire conversation felt surreal.

Ilseth watched him closely. “I know this is a lot to take in,” he said, “ but I have to know. Will you go?”

Davian shook his head, not wanting to have to make the decision. “What of the people here? What will you tell them?”

“Nothing.” Ilseth’s tone was firm. “They will think you’ve simply run away for fear of becoming a Shadow - we both know it’s common enough. They’ll send people to look for you, but Tol Athian doesn’t have the resources to waste on runaways for long. At worst, they will tell Administration… but you’d need to be avoiding run-ins with them anyway.”

Davian’s stomach twisted. Asha. Wirr. What would they think? He couldn’t go and explain what was happening now; even if there was time, he had no doubt that they would try to stop him.

He hesitated, then looked Ilseth in the eye. “If I go, you need to promise me you will tell my friends why I left. They can keep a secret.”

“The two I saw you with earlier, I assume.” Ilseth sighed. “They know of your ability?”

“Yes.”

There was silence as Ilseth thought for a moment, adjusting his glasses absently as he did so. “Very well. I’d advise against it, but if it will make your decision easier, I will speak to them after the Trials tomorrow. You have my word.”

Davian nodded. It did make the decision easier – not palatable, not comfortable, but it did help.

And, he realised with surprise, he’d made that decision. Ilseth hadn’t lied once. The chance to finally confront this strange ability he had, the chance to be around people who could tell him something about the Augurs – he had longed for it for some time. And compared to what would happen if he stayed….

“So. North,” he said quietly, hefting the cube in his hand.

“Yes,” said Ilseth with a visible flash of relief. He obviously hadn’t been certain that Davian would go. “I was told only that you need to head northward for as long as it takes, and that you will know exactly where to go when the time comes.” He spread his hands in an apologetic gesture. “I hate to be so cryptic, but that is all the information I have.”

Davian just nodded. He was accepting so much else on faith, the vagueness of the directions seemed hardly surprising. He looked around his room, mind clearer now that he knew his course. “It will take me a few minutes to gather my things.” He paused. “Someone will be on duty at the gate.”

“Leave that to me.” Ilseth drew a small pouch from beneath his robe. It clinked as he tossed it to Davian. “For your journey. Stay away from towns where you can, but you’ll need to buy food, and there will be some nights where the only option is an inn.”

Davian peered inside. A number of gold coins glittered in the heavy pouch – enough to feed him indefinitely, and more. A small fortune.

"Fates," he breathed, a little stunned. “Thank-you.”

Ilseth stood, laying a hand on Davian’s shoulder. “If you can learn to become a true Augur, lad, then it’s worth it a hundred times over.” He headed for the door. “Give me a quarter hour to take care of the guards, then leave. No later, mind you. I won’t be able to distract them for long.” He paused. “And be very careful over the next few weeks, Davian. Stay out of sight where you can. People will be looking for you.”

He opened the door and slipped through, shutting it again behind him.

Davian sat for a few minutes, just holding the bronze box Ilseth had given him, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. Was this really happening? Dazedly, he recalled what he’d overheard earlier that day. Could he be the boy Talean and Ilseth had been talking about, that the Northwarden himself was so interested in? He dismissed the idea immediately. If the other Elders had no knowledge of his ability, there was no way the Northwarden would.

He stood mechanically, fetching a bag from beneath his bed and throwing his scant belongings into it. A couple of plain woollen tunics, a pair of trousers, the cloak Mistress Alita had given him for his last birthday. He had not bothered to undress for bed; he tucked the pouch of coins safely into his belt, hidden from view. Bandits would be an issue on the road anyway, but there was no benefit to tempting them.

The box Ilseth had given him, he wrapped in its cloth and then slipped into a pocket. It was bulky, but if it was as important as Ilseth said, the discomfort was worth having it on his person.

Just as he finished, another soft knock from the hallway – this one familiar – made him curse silently. Wirr’s timing couldn’t have been worse.

He hesitated, considering just waiting until his friend left. The room was unlocked though, and locking it would give away the fact he was there; Wirr was just as likely to come in uninvited as he was to give up.

Moving quietly, Davian stuffed the bag beneath his bed.

Wirr looked up as the door swung open, a solemn expression in place of his usual grin. Davian gestured for him to enter, mind racing. There were only minutes before he had to leave, and Wirr would want to stay for longer than that.

He came to a decision before the door was shut. Ilseth had warned him not to talk to anyone, but this was Wirr. Besides, he needed to tell someone.

“I’m leaving, Wirr. Tonight.” He said the words softly but firmly.

Wirr blinked. “What?” He had begun to sit, but now stood again, shaking his head. “Dav, no! That’s a bad idea. I know becoming a Shadow is a terrifying thought, but -”

“I’m not running away,” Davian interrupted. “Elder Tenvar, from Tol Athian, was just here. He asked me to go.” He hurriedly related the conversation, finishing by reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bronze Vessel. He unwrapped the cloth cover and held it up for Wirr’s inspection. “The Elder doesn’t know what this is, only that it will guide me to where I need to go - somewhere to the north. Once I get there, I’ll start my training. Learn how to become an Augur. Hopefully help seal up the Boundary again, before it’s too late.”

Wirr, who had listened to the entire story in silence, frowned. “You’re sure he was telling the truth?”

“Yes. Completely. I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise.”

Wirr’s expression didn’t change; if anything his frown deepened as he thought. “’North’ is a little vague, don’t you think?”

Davian shrugged, turning the box over in his hands. “Apparently this will lead me the rest of the way.”

“Perhaps.” Wirr still did not sound convinced. “And you can’t mention this to anyone here?”

“I know how it sounds, but it does make sense. There’s a reason we haven’t told the Elders what I can do.” Davian glanced at the door. “I have to go in a couple of minutes, Wirr. Ilseth is distracting the guards; it’s my only opportunity. I’m sorry to leave you like this. Truly.”

Wirr considered his friend, looking conflicted. Then he straightened. “I’m going with you.”

Davian shook his head fiercely. “No. I appreciate the offer, but I have nothing to lose. You do. You’ll do well at Tol Athian, probably end up an Elder in ten years or so. You can do something meaningful with your life. I can’t let you give that up.”

“I know exactly what I’m giving up, and it’s my decision to make.” Wirr voice was calm, his words measured. “You’re my friend, Dav, and this thing that you’ve been asked to do – it sounds dangerous. Fates, if the Boundary is really about to collapse, it is dangerous. I’d regret it forever if I let you go without someone there to watch out for you.” Gone was the customary lightness to Wirr’s tone.

“You can’t come,” Davian said, lacing the sentence with as much authoritative finality as he could muster.

“Then I’ll have to go and wake Elder Olin,” responded Wirr.

Davian ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Wirr had the upper hand, and both of them knew it. “There’s no time. You don’t even have any clothing.”

“I have about as many things as you do, Dav. It will take me all of two minutes.” Wirr stood, heading towards the door. Davian instinctively stepped into his path, but Wirr just raised an eyebrow in amusement at him, looming over his much smaller friend. “Really?”

Davian flushed, then stepped aside. “I’m not happy about this, Wirr.”

“Strangely enough, I’m fine with that.” Wirr paused as he opened the door. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard. And Dav - ” he held up a finger in warning – “ if you leave without me, I’ll raise the entire school to come after you.”

Davian rolled his eyes but nodded a grudging acknowledgement, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as Wirr vanished down the hallway. Beneath his reluctance, he felt a flood of relief. Davian truly hadn’t wanted his friend to make such a sacrifice for him… but he hadn’t wanted to do this alone, either.

He waited for a few more minutes, each seeming an eternity in the silence of the evening. Eventually he snatched up his bag, slipping outside as quietly as possible. There was little chance of running into anyone at this hour, but he nonetheless kept to the shadows where he could, heart pounding. The night was cloudy, with only a few stars providing any natural light. That was good – it meant that once they were outside, there was little chance of being spotted on the road.

Wirr was already waiting when he reached the courtyard, clutching a bag similar to Davian’s. “No sign of Jarras and the others,” he whispered as Davian approached. “Your Elder seems to have kept his word.”

Davian nodded, a jolt of anxiety running through him. This was it, then. “We shouldn’t waste any time,” he whispered.

Without speaking further they crept towards the gate. Every muscle in Davian’s body was taut, and he expected someone to shout out a warning at any moment. Nothing stirred, though. Within seconds they were beneath the portcullis, and then past the edges of the torchlight and into the night.

They jogged silently along the road until they were at the tree line, then stopped as if at some unspoken signal, turning and looking back at the school. There were no cries of discovery; the looming structure was quiet. Peaceful.

“So. This is the last time we’ll be here,” Wirr said softly.

Davian nodded; he felt it too. Regardless of how their journey went, he did not expect to see the school again.

“It’s not too late for you to turn back,” he observed.

The corners of Wirr’s mouth curled upward. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Davian just inclined his head in response. Tearing their gazes from the familiar lines of the castle, they continued along the derelict road and into the shadowy forest.

Neither looked back.