Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) (31 page)

My parents.
How did random burglars kill them?
He realized a moment after he had the thought that he had voiced it aloud when the Headmistress replied.

“That is quite the question, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Verrian asked, looking back and forth between them.

“The night my parents were killed...” Shawnrik looked as his hands as Verrian pulled the picture back to look at it again. “… the watchmen said that it looked like a burglary gone wrong. There’s no way that common burglars would have killed my parents though, is there?”

“It…” The Headmistress sighed. “…is very unlikely. Both of them were quite capable, and even surprised they should have at least taken a few of the burglars with them.”

“So someone planned it. Someone went out of their way to murder my parents.” Shawnrik’s hands were balled into fists now. “But why? What did they do or know that was worth going all the way to Safeharbor to eliminate them?”

“I can’t answer that,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

“Can’t, or won’t?” Shawnrik leaned forward.

“Can’t, I promise you. I can think of several groups that might have liked to see your father dead, but I know of no reason worth going through that much effort.”

“Who?”

“Shawnrik…”

“Who?”

Torva Blackbriar sighed. She took out a bottle and poured a dark liquid into the cup in front of her, taking a large drink. “Aerick was instrumental in stopping several Dracair assaults on several of the smaller border towns in the Blade’s Edge Mountains. He was a thorn in their side for ten years before he left with your mother.”

“That’s one,” Shawnrik motioned for her to continue.

“He was a thorn in the side of the High Elves, helping at least a dozen Half-Elves escape the hunters.”

Verrian shuddered. “My dad told me about the Hunters. Groups of six Elves whose entire purpose is to hunt down and capture, or kill, Half-Elves.”

“And your father probably doesn’t know half of what those people are capable of,” the Headmistress said. “They do not forgive or forget easily.”

“Alright, that’s two. I’m guessing there’s at least one more group you can think of?” Shawnrik placed his elbows on his legs and steepled his hands, looking at her over the top of them.

She nodded and began to pour another drink.

“His tribe, right?” Shawnrik said, drawing a look of surprise from the Headmistress.

“Let me guess, Sara told you what happened the night her father died?” She sighed. “Did she tell you that the Elders told Daerian to not bother to come back if he didn’t kill your father?”

“I don’t think she knows the specifics, but I think she suspects something like that happened.” Shawnrik cupped his face in his hands. “You think the Elders sent someone after him?”

“Or told someone where to find him,” Verrian whispered.

Torva’s expression told the boys that she thought Verrian was very close to the truth. “I can’t prove anything, and some of the Elders who were in charge then have since passed on. I do suspect that they worked with either the Dracair or the Hunters to accomplish their task. When your father took the Heartstone title, I believe he learned something that the Elders thought shouldn’t be taken outside the tribe.”

Shawnrik felt the tension in his body begin to release. He hadn’t even realized how tense he had gotten during the conversation. A drop of warm liquid dropped onto his forearm, and he realized that he was sweating. Standing, he stepped around his chair and began to pace the length of the room, limbering up his body and mind.

“Is that why you boys came to see me today?” Torva spoke after the room had been silent for some time.

“No,” Shawnrik said facing the door, his teeth gritted. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I came here to find out what you know about the change I went through over a year and a half ago, and the changes that I’m likely to go through in the future.”

“Ah, I’m guessing that is what Instructor Daymarr wants to see me about tomorrow morning, then.” Torva replied. “I want you to know that it was my decision not to tell you. Of the few Instructors that understood what could happen, all of them tried to convince me to tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Verrian asked.

“For one thing, we have never dealt with someone who has quite the genetic makeup of our young friend here. We are not sure what is going to happen, or when.”

“What do you mean?” Shawnrik paced back towards the empty chair.

“What I’m about to say is extremely personal information. I know you boys are good friends, but this may be information you want to keep to yourself.”

Verrian began to stand, taking the hint, but Shawnrik put his hand on his roommate's shoulder.

“It’s alright. Whatever it is, I don’t keep secrets from my friends.”

Looking back and forth between them, the Headmistress’s shoulders seemed to slump as she came to the decision to tell them what she knew. “Shawnrik, do you know what DNA is?”

“Uh, that’s the stuff that makes people who they are, right? Some sort of biological computer code?”

“At the very basic idea of it, yes. We have information here that isn’t available anywhere else on Terrazil and we still don’t completely understand all that DNA is capable of. We are, however, able to compare samples from parents and children and be reasonably sure of what we will find.” She began to reach for the bottle on her desk again, but instead of pouring anymore out she placed the lid back on and put it away. “Something messed with your coding. Things that should be dormant aren’t, and other things that should more than likely be present are turned off or have been replaced. It is like something dug out every scrap of potential inside of you and weeded out many things that could be perceived as weaknesses.”

“Wait,” Verrian said. “Is that even possible?”

“If you would have asked me a month ago, I would have told you no,” Torva Blackbriar replied. “Dean Swiftfoot believes that it was an extended process that happened slowly over the course of a year or more sometime in the last several years. In most people, such alterations could cause drastic and painful changes as soon as the body accepts the new information, but your body already had a system in place for drastic physical changes. Your body had already been preparing to go through the change that affects a small portion of the people who have the blood of the larger races running through their veins. We believe that the first change was far more drastic than it normally is because your body was setting up a framework to build upon based on new schematics.”

“That’s amazing!” Verrian said, clearly trying to resist the urge to come inspect Shawnrik up close, as if he would be able to see the changes with his bare eyes. “What, or who, could do something like that?”

“That is a question we do not know the answer to. We have seen things like this done on a much smaller scale by the Mages, but I’m not even sure that they could pull something like this off with a concerted effort. And it is definitely not something they could have done without Shawnrik knowing about it.” Torva sighed. “Harolinde says that the first Dragons were able to do something similar, but I would say that fits more into the myth and legend category than real science.” She shook her head. “Such a fine scientist, but he puts so much stock in the records of his people.”

“Dean Swiftfoot said that?” Verrian asked his gaze suddenly far away. “Interesting.”

Shawnrik had a feeling deep down that he might know what had messed with him, but until he knew for sure he was going to keep that information to himself. He might not keep secrets from his friends, but this secret wasn’t his to give away.

“So how many more of these do I have to go through, and are they all going to be as bad as the first?”

“We believe only one or two more at most,” the Headmistress said. “Harolinde believes that whatever Dunnagan did to help you through the first transition, it allowed your body to complete more changes than had originally been intended for the first transition. The consensus is that the next changes will be much more manageable, though still dangerous.” A light blue tear rolled down her cheek. “I wanted you to be a kid for at least a little while before you had to deal with something like this again. Cypheria knows you’ve dealt with enough in your time.”

“As his roommate, what kinds of symptoms would he show if this was about to happen?” Verrian asked.

“Usually it starts out like a fever. It should become apparent within the first few hours, however, that it is not. The process is extremely painful. If you think it is happening you should message the surgery center, they will know what to do.” She looked at Shawnrik. “You have been through this before though, so if you start feeling like you did before it happened the first time you should make your way to the clinic on your own. Make sure you notify someone you are on the way though, I would hate for you to pass out in a dark corner somewhere and die because of stubbornness or bad luck.”

“Do you have any way to tell when it will happen?” Shawnrik sat down.

“Unfortunately, we don’t understand enough of the process to make an accurate projection. Harolinde believes it will happen before the end of the year though.”

“Alright.” Shawnrik looked the Headmistress in the eyes. “I understand why you wanted to keep this from me. I might even have considered doing it if I was in your position, but if you receive information about me that could be vital to my survival…” He gripped the arms of the chair tightly. “…I would hope that you will let me know.”

“I appreciate your restraint,” Torva said. “It shows that you have a head on your shoulders and have been trained well. I promise that if I learn anything else or if new information that affects you directly surfaces, I will let you know.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Shawnrik said, standing and heading towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Verrian placing the picture of his parents on the desk reverently.

“I don’t like it,” Verrian said, looking at the Headmistress. “But I understand too. Still, what if he died because I didn’t know how serious it was?”

Shawnrik opened the door to leave, but he heard the Headmistress’s reply before he stepped into the next room.

“That point had been raised, but I told them that you had enough sense to call someone if your roommate suddenly became sick.”

“That’s a lot of hope. I don’t know if you heard, but this guy is kind of weird,” Verrian said, running to catch up to Shawnrik.

“Thanks,” Shawnrik said wryly.

“You’re welcome,” Verrian replied with a wink. “That’s what friends are for.”

Chapter 17

What Lies Beneath

Year: 3045 AGD

Month: Midwinter

First Sixthday

Death’s Edge Forest

“There it is,” Pershanti said as they crested the hill.

A sea of green and brown met their eyes as they looked down upon the northern tip of Death’s Edge Forest. Millions of diverse flora and fauna battled for supremacy beneath the branches of a thousand different types of trees below. At least that’s how Pershanti had described the forest the night before. What that all boiled down to was that it was a very good place for them to get lost for a while, even if it was one of the more dangerous places on Terrazil to try to eke out an existence.

“How are we ever going to find Troublefinder’s people in all of that?”

“Don’t worry,” Pershanti replied, “they'll find us. We just need to hope that they find us before something else does. Keep on your toes as we move forward, and trust nothing. There are plants further in that will eat you just as heartily as the animals. Do
not
let that thing out of its cage unless you are moments away from death.”

That thing was how Pershanti had referred to the part of his subconscious they had discovered the night before, on their second night of meditation training. He had become too complacent during the session, and somehow, something buried deep within his mind had assumed control. He had to be told what happened after that, because he had no memories of the event.

According to what Pershanti had learned from the entity, something had occurred on the night of the boy's birth that caused his subconscious to become hyperaware. It had since been learning from the memories contained in his blood in order to protect him. The problem was that the thing had no sense of right or wrong, only thinking about what was best for the goal of ensuring the boy’s protection.

As such, whenever the opportunity arose, it used latent abilities to ensure that anyone who might be useful to the boy was enhanced. Pershanti said the thing had bragged about the changes that it had already begun to make in Troublefinder when it had saved the Quaelyne’s life, and the things that it could do to improve Pershanti if given the chance. He had no idea who the thing inside of him might have messed with before the boy came to be in the mine, but the thought that a part of his mind could mess with Pershanti and Troublemaker without their consent made him sick.

The problem was that the thing inside his mind had the memories and experiences of thousands of beings; neither of them was entirely sure how to wrestle control from the thing without being seen as a threat to development. From what the man Walkins had said, he had reason to believe that someone had done this to him. But what if he had learned what this part of his mind was doing and tried to stop it, only to wake up the next morning as someone else? The only thing that seemed to keep the creature from doing whatever it wanted was the limitations that the manacles the boy wore placed upon the thing. Not only that, but they limited the amount of material the thing had to work with, so even if the boy was touching something there was only so much that the entity could do.

“I’ll try to keep my head,” the boy said. “I don’t want that thing taking control again either.”

“We would appreciate that. I would also recommend not taking those manacles off until you figure out how to deal with it.  I have a feeling that pushing through the manacle’s barrier as much as it has means that you have grown incredibly in that area, and that kind of power without control is dangerous.” Pershanti sighed. “I wish I knew an easy way to fix this. I wish there was a way that I could go into your mind and help you wrest control, but I’ve only heard of such things being possible in stories. I'm afraid you are alone in this battle. Perhaps the Quaelyne will be able to do something to help you. If not, I think your best bet would be the Protectorate Mages.”

“Well, if I ever see the Arch Magus I’ll be sure to let him do what he sees fit,” the boy laughed.

“You might think such a thing is impossible, but powerful people tend to draw their like. For good or ill, you will have a large part to play in things to come. I will prepare your mind as best I can, but it is up to you how that knowledge is used.”

Troublefinder sneezed. Looking at their furry friend, they noticed his gaze was locked on the direction they had come. As they looked north they saw storm clouds gathering in the mountains, a wall of white already forming near the peaks.

“We were lucky the weather held this long.” Pershanti said eying the coming storm. “I think we can beat the storm to the trees if we hurry, but it's going to be a cold night.”

Town of Verge

              Elandria was hungry and in an incredible amount of pain. It was the third day since they had been captured, and they hadn't seen nor heard anyone else in that entire time. She had tried yelling for help through the door, but if anyone heard her, they hadn’t responded to her plea. The few vegetables she was able to find were well past being edible, and she knew she would have to start eating the multi-legged residents of their impromptu cell soon if nothing changed.

The light from the window had dimmed significantly sometime in the late afternoon, and now flakes of snow were beginning to cover the ground, making the already cool cellar freezing cold. She could see her breath frosting the air in front of her. Through the carpet, she could hear Rundig’s teeth begin to chatter. He had the same type of worn down blanket as she had, but with whatever his body was going through it obviously wasn’t going to do the job tonight.

Pushing her way through the hanging carpet, she laid her blanket over his, a process made surprisingly difficult with only one arm. After she managed to lay the blanket squarely over the Dwarf, she crawled into bed in order to share her warmth with him.

“Oye lass, I thought you’d never come,” Rundig said, his voice weak.

“Don’t get any ideas, you old goat, I’m just here to try to make sure you don’t die on me,” Elandria replied.

“That hurts, lass. I’ll have you know I’m a popular fellow back home.”

“Well as you can see my beard is not nearly as long as yours so we aren’t a good pairing.”

“Bah, that’s a myth. Most Dwarven women don’t have beards. Hell, I know a lot of Dwarven men without them as well. The damn things itch, you know.” Rundig laughed.

“Oh good, then it won’t hurt your pride to know that whoever bandaged you up also trimmed your beard quite a bit.”

“Damn, I knew something felt different. Figured it was just the poison. Oh well, either I won’t be alive long enough to have it concern me, or we’ll get out and I can regrow it. Made any escape plans yet?”

“No. We don’t have much to work with here, and no one has been by since we woke up. Either they are trying to figure out what to do with us, or they are just going to let us rot here for killing as many of them as we did.” Elandria sighed.

“We did well. They didn’t expect that, or they would have all been in those trees trying to shoot us.” Rundig’s breathing became labored.

“Just get your rest. We can talk later.”

“Almost…” Rundig took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs. “Almost done with it one way or the other, lass. I can feel it working through my chest. I can feel my toes and fingers again, so if it doesn’t kill me I should be up and about in a day or two.”

“If you die while I’m lying next to you, I’ll never forgive you for it,” Elandria said.

“Deal,” Rundig whispered before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

Elandria watched her old friend sleep for a while before succumbing herself. 

Northern Death’s Edge Forest

The boy sat in a bower that Troublefinder had found just before the sun began to set. Pershanti had cautioned against them having a fire at first, but as the temperature began to plummet he decided that they needed something to keep themselves alive. They dug a hole as best they could in the cold ground and made a small fire in the middle of the bower. It wasn’t much, but it should keep their extremities from freezing, according to the Grenaldin.

They had foregone meditation training tonight in order to learn about fire safety and maintenance. Pershanti taught him several different ways to start a fire and how to keep it from being seen from far away. The snow came down in waves throughout the evening, causing their shelter to slowly shrink in size. Several times they had to go out and knock away snow in order to keep the branches above the heat of the flames.

Conversation was sparse as they huddled together in an effort to conserve as much heat as possible. The crackle of the flames was the only sound that broke the oppressive silence of the night. Not even the regular inhabitants of the forest wanted to brave a night like tonight. The only one who seemed comfortable was Troublefinder, who curled up next to them and quickly fell asleep.

Any jealous thoughts about his friend’s ability to sleep in these kinds of conditions were cut short when the boy found himself beginning to doze. It didn’t take long for him to fall into a restful sleep.

“Must you leave?” Dalton said, holding her hand. “We just made it home.”

Their journey back to South Harbor had gone quickly enough after they had been given mounts whose owners had been killed by the Dracairei. They arrived back in South Harbor just in time for the Harvest Festival.

Ever since their encounter in Mountainview, he had been doting over her. She had firmly rebuffed his advances dozens of times, but he still seemed to hope that she was just being stubborn.

“Dalton,” Tyrdra said, making sure she had his full attention. “What happened was a mistake. Not only that, but I am going to leave soon and may not be back for a dozen years or more. You need to find a nice girl and settle down. This city needs you, and soon I fear it will need you more than ever.”

“Leave? But…”

“No buts, I am leaving. You are staying to finish your training to become the leader that I know you will be. Forget about anything that happened, and for the love of all that is good and holy don’t tell your mother.”

He looked at her with those eyes, obviously hurt, but she could tell that he understood. Dalton had been raised to do what was right, and she knew that he would continue with his career, if that is what she told him to do. She also knew that if he realized she was pregnant there wasn’t a force on Terrazil that would stop him from being at her side, and she had to leave before it became apparent.