Authors: V. Lakshman
Duncan, Silbane mindspoke, I don’t have a lot of time. We’ve got to work together.
How?
replied Duncan miserably, looking back down at Arek.
Can you give me any energy?
Silbane asked, flinging blades at Kisan, who merely spun with her wing, scattering them to the winds.
Not here, not with the blackwood, its weakened but still drains us, said the archmage with Arek’s head on his lap.
Yetteje had moved to put herself between Kisan and Arek, just inside Duncan’s shield. She looked back at him and said, “Do something!”
I can’t figure out what Valarius has done,
Silbane said, sounding desperate.
I don’t have the lore.
He ducked a spinning kick then moved in, grabbing Kisan under her waist and flipping her into a throw meant to crush her head. She countered by locking her legs into a scissor and pulling him down with her. They both fell in a heap but her legs did not let go.
I can’t, Duncan replied. I can’t see how Valarius created the blackwood.
Kisan’s legs tightened, trying to choke Silbane out, but he’d managed to get his arm inside the hold. He mentally nodded, and Duncan sensed an idea taking form in Silbane’s psyche that could be their only chance.
Use my Sight.
There was a pause, a moment before Duncan said, She’ll kill you. Your body won’t be able to fight if I take over.
Silbane broke her hold and rolled out. Kisan, ever the tactician, did the smartest thing when engaging multiple opponents. She moved quickly, snapping a kick at Orion while her black blades drew back and stabbed.
The blow should have gone through the stunned Watcher’s neck, but Helios pushed his comrade aside as Kisan’s blades ran him through. They emerged out of the sun-blazed back of Helios’s armor, then the master kicked him under the chin and away.
Orion howled in rage, then said, “You shall fall here, Artymis!” He swept forward, striking with a blur of wing strikes and spear work that could barely be seen.
It’s the only chance Arek has, Silbane replied.
Kisan was ready. She used her wings and her blades to block, then looped in around his spear and let it pass under her arm. The Watcher punched but Kisan leaned to her left and got behind it. They were face to face and Orion let out a grunt, his eyes wide.
“Too easy,” Kisan muttered, pulling her blade out of his stomach. He slowly sank to his knees and Kisan pushed his head aside, toppling him where he knelt. She moved to the shield wall, her eyes on the princess.
Silbane stepped in her path, locking her down with a grappling cross choke. She changed form back to normal, twisting under his armored grasp and then pushing his elbows up. The move caused his arms to have to disengage but Silbane changed form and leapt. The kick that would have shattered his knee instead caught him a glancing blow, causing him to tumble into an awkward roll before recovering just in front of the shield wall.
Do it, now!
Silbane cried.
And the world seemed to slow to a crawl as Duncan flooded Silbane’s mind. He looked through the master’s eyes and could see the lines of force, the yellow particles that made up the world. He could see the intricate complexity of everything with the dragon-given Sight Silbane offered, a revelation that opened his mind’s eye to the possibilities surrounding him. He could
See
the blackwood, how Valarius had twisted it into something that bent in on itself, how the archmage had even bent it around Kisan to give her an advantage against them.
Nothing could stop the black blade that entered Silbane’s chest. Duncan felt it simultaneously with the master, and knew this would happen the moment he took over. Duncan watched with a strange dual vision as Kisan walked toward him, her arms flexing in anticipation.
He felt Silbane fall forward, not even a body length from where Yetteje stood with blade drawn behind their shield. It would only be moments before Valarius undid the protective spell, and then Kisan would kill them all and give Arek to the highlord. Blood welled out of Silbane’s chest, pooling under him, and tears came to his eyes.
I’m sorry I failed you, Silbane said softly.
Kisan paused at that, then looked at the princess and warned, “Don’t stand in my way. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”
Yetteje looked back at Duncan, her blade still pointing at the approaching master and said, “You make sure Arek gets out of here.” Then she looked back, and Duncan could tell she was settling herself, clearing her mind. The shield was still up, but it was only a matter of time before it toppled and death would take them all in the form of an angel in black.
Without a word, Duncan dived back into the spell of the blackwood, trying to unravel it before it was too late.
Never ask a question to your men
you don’t already know the answer to.
-
Jebida Naserith, Should I Fall
A
rek sat in a world that was dimly punctuated with sound and light, floating in an inky sea of blackness, a place that was both cold and vast. Out of that blackness came a figure and a familiar voice.
“As always, your insight knows no bounds, Master,” the shade of Piter said sarcastically.
Arek closed his eyes, just wanting to sleep.
“Do not rest now, or you will never awaken. The blackwood will consume you, leaving your body as a vessel for Valarius to rise again, like the phoenix he so worships.” Piter gazed knowingly at Arek. “Do not falter, or all we’ve done will be lost.”
“Why is it so black?” Arek asked. Usually the scene just froze in these slices of time, like it had back in the desert near the Far’anthi Tower. Why did Piter always appear to him at these moments, he wondered numbly.
“I will not lie to you,” Piter said, “though I have every reason to. You stand within death’s door. Only we can save you now.”
“We?” Arek asked, his mind in a fugue.
Piter’s eyes narrowed calculatingly, then he leaned in close and said, “Yes. Cainan, myself, the others… Release me to act and I can stem this tide. You cannot withstand the elves of Avalyon without us.”
“What do you mean?” Arek asked, wondering again where he was.
“We were friends once,” Piter said softly. “We played at the festivals, shared a room. You and I were name brothers, found together and raised as family.”
Arek nodded slowly, his vision dimming further. “I know…”
“You never said you’re sorry. You killed me. Was it a mistake?” the shade implored.
Arek nodded again. “I’m sorry.” His tongue felt thick, his mind working slowly, trying to understand what Piter was saying.
“You can make amends now, my friend and brother. You can release me,” said the shade of Piter.
“Release…?” Arek mumbled, falling deeper into the blackness.
“Say it!” said Piter, his face inches from Arek’s own, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Say I am released before it is too late!”
Everything about the shade screamed desperation, but Arek was too far gone to see it. His head lolled back, but his voice said in a whisper, “I release you…” before he collapsed.
* * * * *
The clearing around Duncan erupted in hundreds of black shapes as nephilim emerged. They came in the form of dark elves turned by Piter and Cainan since coming to Avalyon. They came howling with hunger, a ravenous horde washing over the elves within the hall and attacking everyone outside Duncan’s shield.
Duncan was still deep within the spell Valarius had created. He could see the interwoven patterns, but the changes made to the spell exceeded his lore. The relationships were on the edge of his understanding, a different dialect where he could only get hints at meanings, not true comprehension.
He could not parse the patterns until Silbane’s exhausted voice whispered,
It’s mathematical. See… here…
and the master showed the archmage where a series of sections of the spell had been crafted as the inverse of each other. The training focusing their arcane combat using mathematical principles and discipline now came to bear.
Duncan realized he could refashion these into mirror images of themselves, replacing the parts that caused the Way to curl back into the wood with ones that would coax it into a more natural flow. Duncan could make the changes quickly, but only Silbane could find the exact sequences. They worked quickly in tandem, all the while Duncan could feel Silbane slipping away. The pause at the final change left no doubt how close the master was to his final moments and so Duncan said with all the mental strength he could muster,
It’s done.
Silbane sighed, then collapsed.
A tremor ran through the floor, a change that started where Duncan knelt and raced outward, changing the blackwood to something vibrant and new, a wholesome brown wood resembling walnut or maple. The new wood grew, replacing the perversion created by Valarius with something in harmony with the Way. A sigh left Duncan as the drain and the blackwood itself disappeared.
Valarius looked around in surprise as his hall changed, the nature of the trap he’d prepared for Arek unraveled at its very core. Then he looked back at Duncan, his eyes glowing amber with a promise of retribution. Lightning crackled, power so resplendent in Arcadia coming to life at the highlord’s fingertips, lightning that had not been possible while the blackwood drained the Way. It came at the beck and call of Valarius Galadine, gathering in elemental arcs of white, blasting out as the highlord hurled lightning bolts searing into Duncan’s shield with a fury so unbridled it exceeded anything from Duncan’s own tortured past.
The blast shattered the spell Duncan had cast, hurling him, the dwarven woman, and Arek back toward a pile of bodies. The woman grunted in pain, a good sign, though Duncan felt bad she was likely awakening to her own death. Valarius had turned to deal with a knot of nephilim, blasting them back with blue-white lightning, giving them a moment’s respite. Duncan did not doubt, however, that they would all be killed in moments.
It’s not over,
Silbane said, his voice sounding far away. Time slowed and the master said,
One last request.
He then told Duncan what he wanted.
Duncan’s eyes widened and he looked down at the woman he now knew as Brianna. Silbane had shown him what she could do. He reached out and said,
See through my eyes.
There was a flurry of movement, a strike-counter strike as Yetteje blocked a thrust from Kisan and then twirled through an intricate cut, her blade leaping in a figure eight. Kisan deflected the upward sweeps, then blocked the last cut with a downwar
dX
made by her two black blades. Then the master snapped her head back with a kick. The princess went down in a heap, but curiously Duncan watched Kisan step past the girl instead of delivering the expected coup de grâce.
Brianna grabbed his arm, her gaze locked on his own, and then he Saw what she did, but through the eyes of someone who could heal. Her knowledge amazed him, but could she do what Silbane asked? Time slowed and Kisan took a step.
We can heal you,
Brianna said in panic to Silbane.
Kisan was only a few strides away, her foot moving in slow motion as she took another step.
No,
he replied. They could all see there was only time for one of them, and the master knew what he wanted done. Silbane fell deeper, clinging to awareness so they could still use his Sight. Together, the three of them went to work on one final spell, a tangled undoing that required someone like Brianna to guide them. Though time had slowed, it seemed an eternity before the last change was made.
Kisan took another step, her blades coming up with points aimed right at Duncan’s heart. He didn’t care, and felt Silbane give in to the blackness. Silbane had given whatever was left of him for Duncan’s son. Instead of moving he looked at the master through his mind’s eye and said,
Thank you.
Silbane did not reply, instead a knot of memories, a lifetime of his feelings for Arek along with the calm serenity the master had achieved through years of training came through their connection. It contained all Silbane had learned, all he’d experienced, it was the best of what he was, given over to the man who was Arek’s true father. It was as if Duncan had touched a lore father and been granted the wisdom of another’s life.
If Arek proves worthy, share this with him.
It was more than Duncan could have asked for, a chance to recapture the years he’d lost driven to the edge of insanity as he searched for his family. Silbane’s gift was the missing part of himself, the part necessary to balance his mind and give him the clarity he needed. Duncan opened his eyes and saw Kisan standing over them, blades poised to strike.
He raised the hand missing a finger, knowing he couldn’t stop her. He didn’t have the energy left. Silbane’s gift, a chance at balance in life, would never be used. It would die here with him, and he could only hope Kisan would make it quick.
Kisan stabbed with both blades.
A flash of silver and the two points imbedded themselves just a hand’s span in front of Duncan’s kneeling form, the liquid silver blade of another having intercepted the stab and forced hers prematurely down. He looked up in surprise, only to see the stern gaze of the firstmark, his eyes locked on Kisan’s.
“To be clear, I never liked you,” said Ash. The firstmark had just exited a tunnel leading up, and Duncan thought he saw the flash of Sonya’s face. Had the shade helped Ash find them?
Kisan kicked his arms up and pulled her blades, retreating a few steps before coming back to a guard position. “And I was just getting to like you, Firstmark.”
“Cold-hearted assassins are not my type,” Ash replied simply.
Kisan looked at him for a moment, then shook her head and shrugged. She balanced lightly, then moved forward in a blur and their dance of blades began in earnest. Duncan at first couldn’t follow half the strikes, the flash of silver against black only stopping on blocks that occasionally sparked. Then something in whatever Silbane had done gave incomprehensible forms and strike-counter strike an almost poetic reason. Though he could not repeat it, he could
see
the true skill these two demonstrated, and the sight was awe-inspiring.
Ash countered Kisan’s double blade attacks and pushed her back, clearing room for Duncan to gather Arek. The archmage watched for a moment longer, until a hulking mass drew his attention. Vengeance rose, searching the room for any remaining elves. Killing them freed it from its
gesh
, a fact Duncan hoped would cause it to pursue elves through Arcadia until this world was rid of Valarius’s accursed race.
Then Duncan watched as Ash ducked a fraction of a heartbeat too late and a pommel punch clipped his temple. The firstmark stumbled backward just as Kisan turned her eyes onto him.
Not good,
he thought. He looked down at Arek, hoping against all hope what they’d done would make a difference.