by Olivia Ali
"Well I can't kill him, but I know someone who can."
Dante didn't say anything in response, the look on Tristan's face told him enough that he needn't bother to worry too much about the rest of the plan. He knew by now that he was more of a take it as it comes sort of person. Needless to say he was proud of Tristan in this moment for becoming everything he once was and as they departed the old shack and headed back to the Compound in silence, he was confident that his memory would be intact in no time. More confident than he had ever been.
Chapter 36 – The Keys Never Lie
The following morning saw Dante and Tristan sneak out of the Compound once again without attracting the attention of Basso, Merlin or Nielson. Although Merlin might agree with their intentions, they weren’t so sure he would be as happy with their methods. The back entrance of the Compound found them in a dark alley just a few doors down from the tavern and the town square. The streets themselves were unusually busy, people were everywhere in large crowds, swarms of guards cluttered among them. Deciding they were probably better off keeping a low profile, they lifted their hoods and darted across to the alleyway opposite, making sure no eyes were upon them. Checking their backs, a hooded figure suddenly knocked straight into Tristan, throwing him to the floor with the figure landing on top. As Dante turned to see what all the fuss was about, he noticed the hood slip away to reveal a thick blonde plait. It was a woman, no doubt some whore trying not to be seen by the guards. Sniggering to himself, he extended a hand to her and helped her to her feet before turning back to help Tristan.
The woman began straightening her cloak and brushing the dust from her blue dress. Both Dante and Tristan turned to face her, startled when they realised her identity as the Lady Myrina. She said nothing to them, she simply stared at Tristan as though she now knew who he was.
“So you’re not Baldor Runcorn then?” she asked after a while, obviously sick of the silence. Tristan shook his head in response, his eyes focused upon her as they clouded over in thought. “And you, Lord Balthier Ashdown?”
“Not exactly,” Dante replied, thinking twice about telling her the truth. “Daxon is my real name.”
“It appears we aren’t so well met after all.”
“Yeah yeah whatever! You want to tell me what you’re doing outside of the Estate?”
“What business is it of yours?”
“Well…I…uh…”
The words of their bickering silenced before Tristan as he became unaware of what was going on around them. Around him was filled with spitting rain and howling winds. The street ahead was dark and two figures stood before him, both of which he recognised as Romeo and Myrina. He stood holding her hands within his as the rain beat down upon them. Stepping closer, Tristan tried to hear the words they might have been exchanging, but they were not his to remember and so they fell on deaf ears. Looking up high at the rain, he could see lightning strike the tall tower that stood behind Romeo. It was in that moment he knew the event that was about to occur and he wished it away, closing his eyes tightly. Since remembering the death of his brother not one night had he spent asleep where he hadn’t seen it again and again.
He wished hard and suddenly the sound of the wind and rain was silent for a moment and briefly he opened his eyes. Around him, the storm continued only now it was he who stood holding Myrina’s hands within his own. Behind him stood the Compound at Hasaghar in wreck and ruin, parts of the structure crumbling away and hitting the ground. He looked back at Myrina and himself, the rain blending in with the tears that were visible on her face through her damp locks of blonde hair. They pleaded with him, silent at first but eventually, the words became heard.
“Please Tristan,” she begged, her voice breaking through the sound of the wind. “You don’t have to do this. You can come back with me now and we can leave here and never come back.”
“I have to avenge them Myrina,” Tristan tried to reason in her. Within the Compound he was sure was Charles. Vengeance would definitely be on the cards. “There is no question of it.”
“But what about Evie? What happens to her if you don’t come back?”
“Why, that’s what you and Cedric are for…” he joked, but Myrina didn’t seem impressed.
“Don’t joke around Tristan, this isn’t the time for it.” His smile faded and she pleaded again. “Please Tristan, please don’t do this.”
“Myrina I will come back, I swear it.”
She pleaded with him again and again, refusing to let go of his hands and sinking to the floor as he pulled away repeating his promise over and over again.
“I will come back Myrina, I swear it.” He repeated, almost as tough he was reciting it as part of a prayer.
Finally, he released himself from Myrina’s grip, his already broken promise still emanating from his lips. Without looking back, his legs carried him warily through the crashing rubble and into the darkness of the Compound. Myrina was left to crouch on the ground in the rain, her begging still heard on the streets even through the wind and the rain and the banging of the thunder that time forgot.
Then all at once he was back in the present where Myrina and Dante stood before him bickering about whether or not he had the right to demand why she was here and not in the estate. It was a question which rested on his lips too but he dared not speak it until he had earnt her forgiveness for his broken promise.
“I uh, I have every right in my place as a lord,” Dante stated, standing straight with his shoulders back.
“You…a real lord?”
“Yes…I…”
“Oh Dante give it a rest!” Tristan sighed heavily, cursing as he did so.
“Dante?” Myrina questioned. “I thought he said his name was Daxon?” Dante’s eyes widened at Tristan, scorning him but he didn’t care all too much for the disapproval he was obviously expressing.
“It doesn’t really matter what his name is, he’s not important.” Now Dante looked back and cursed him under his breath, causing a giggle to escape Myrina as a twinkle appeared in her eyes.
“So you’re back then?” she asked happily.
“How can you tell?”
“You seem different today. I mean at the ball I didn’t even recognise you until two seconds before you disappeared…but today…I don’t know how to explain it. You just seem like you I guess.”
“Excuse me,” Dante interjected becoming impatient with their lack of worry towards the guards that were swarming the streets. “But may I remind you the streets are teeming with guards who are probably searching for you?” he pointed to Myrina in a patronising fashion. “So if I might ask again, what brings you to the streets of Dilu…my lady?”
“Well seeing as you asked so nicely; I have a message…for Tristan.” The two nodded in response, neither had expected the answer - perhaps more along the lines that she had escaped Hagen’s clutches and was never going back. “A message from the First Keeper.”
“From Felix?” Dante questioned, his face filling with remorse. “He’s still alive then?”
“Yes, but he’s weak. To be honest I don’t know how he’s still alive with the injuries I’ve seen on him.”
“How did you find him? B…We heard he was being held prisoner.”
“He is! Down in the dungeons. But I was led to him by a…a…something through a secret passageway which connected to my chambers.” She was choosing her words carefully here but Tristan was unsure as to why.
“So this message,” Tristan ushered. “What is it?”
“Hey, there she is!” In that moment a guard appeared at the other end of the alley and ushered to his companions. “Good work you two!” He obviously assumed that Dante and Tristan had cornered her and weren’t letting her pass, from their positions against the only other exit it looked likely.
“Out of time!” Dante said in an undertone as Myrina ran towards Tristan who braced her by the arms.
“Tristan listen to me,” she panicked. “The keys never lie remember that. Nobilit
y lives!”
“I don’t understand…”
“You will in time!” she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, whispering the words in his ear once more.
“I will come back for you Myrina, I swear it!” he said as she was pulled away.
As if out of nowhere the two guards were now upon them and dragging Myrina away. Although she let them take her reluctantly, Tristan could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t happy about it. As she was pulled out of sight and no doubt clambered in some carriage before being taken back to the Estate, Tristan thought over her words as they rang in his head.
"The keys never lie," Myrina's voice echoed over and over again. "Loyalty lives!" What could she have meant?
He felt a sharp hand clap his shoulder and bring him back to life. Dante's face loomed in on his and he signalled to the toll bell sounding to mark the start of the gift giving. They had a job to do! Tristan nodded, pushing the echoes to the back of his mind and followed Dante out into the street. A guard approached them and shook his cloth bag in their direction, prompting Dante to slip the box into it. The guard didn't batter an eye lid, he just continued on his way. Later when they went through their sacks they would notice the blood that now stained the dark box and open it to find that piece of Boris. He could see their faces now, filled with shock and even more so when they would run to his shop and find his body. It bought him a feeling of completeness, like some form of justice had been dealt. In a way, it had for both of them.
When he turned around Tristan was not there, nor was he anywhere to be seen.
"What the fuck?" Dante cursed, looking around. Where had he gone?
Tristan stopped as he neared the Compound, keeling over to catch his breath. Myrina's words still span around his head, they were what spurned him on. It could only mean one thing, but he had to see it for himself and before he knew it, he was running again through the Compound and to the entrance of the Shrine. He still didn't know where his feet were taking him, but he was confident they at least knew. To the fire in the centre of the Shrine and down a passageway to the left which came to a square room. Chests lay up against each wall, chests that had once contained sentient objects which had long been confiscated for fear generations of traitorous brothers of Union would use them for evil. Now they lay empty and the walls above them a ghostly transparency, as though it wasn't really there at all. It shimmered and a plaque appeared to rise through it as though a hand were reaching through to grab him from the other side. The plaque contained a golden key in the centre which shone brightly and a name plate underneath it. According to the engraving the key belonged to him, Tristan Romano - alive and well.
The Keys were created by Felix; it was part of the reason he was bought back from the Faded lands. He always had a gift for being able to connect with other Keepers and see if they were safe. During the time of the tenth generation, many Scribes vanished and some turned up dead a few days after their disappearance, much like they had in Tristan’s Acolyte years. Their only choice was to bring Felix back to help them find out the identity of the tenth generation and bring them to justice. His reward would be his freedom, and as much as it pained him to leave his brothers to suffer, he had to accept. He created the keys so that the Keepers would always be able to trace their brothers through the branding marks upon each.
Closing his eyes, he tried to remember how to summon the keys of the desired Keepers, opening them out of frustration again when he failed. But the key changed. No longer was it glowing yellow, now the yellow outlined a smoky key which seemed to ripple between life and death. The key belonged to Romeo - he was in the Land of the Faded...he lived! But how? He asked himself out loud. He had watched his brother fall to the ocean below Deaths Toll, how is it this Key said he had faded instead. Myrina was right and through the questions he felt his mouth twist into a smile, perhaps he wasn't so alone after all.
An idea came to mind, and he closed his eyes again thinking of his Dags. How he considered there even a possibility that she lived escaped him but if Romeo was alive then she could be too...surely. Moments later, he opened his eyes and the key remained the same, the name plaque underneath changing to her name. His smile faded and a tear slipped down his suddenly pale face. She too was faded, alive - but how?
He heard footsteps behind him and turned suddenly to see Dante appear in the archway, jumping. He stared at the key in bewilderment. His granddaughter was alive, that much was clear.
"I don't understand," Tristan murmured. "How, I watched them both die..."
"I assume that means Romeo's key was the same?" Tristan nodded dazedly as Dante’s voice choked. "The keys never lie Tristan, that much I do know. How is perhaps a question we should be posing to the books in this here Shrine."
"You have a theory?"
"I do, and I think our answers lie with the Eye of the Storm."
Their gaze met and a renewed hope sparked within them. How was going to have to be a question they answered themselves. They keys never lie, and that would be the hope that spurned them on until they found those answers.
Chapter 37 - The Eye of the Storm
It bought such joy to see your face light up at the keys shadowy glow. It brought a certain warmth to my core, something I had not felt in an incredibly long time, so long in fact the feeling itself was alien to me now. I do remember the last time though, clear as crystal. Back then we were all different people, it was the intensity of the situation that made us feel so alive, that constant feeling like life had no plan for us and we could do whatever we wanted. Of course, then fucking destiny got in the way. Destiny is funny like that; it takes away your dreams and uses your nightmares to drag you down and trap you into believing it's all meant to be. Life has many different paths and it is up to us to choose the right one, so how can it be called fate or destiny if we are the one that has a say in the direction we go? I remember you used to say to me the best way to live was to treat every day as though it would be your last and as though you would die the next. A touch of my brother was coming through in you now, you were slowly getting back to your old self, which meant hopefully we would be reunited once again.
A single word brings me out of my thoughts and that is when I see her, standing by one of the chests and leaning against the wall as though she is part of your world. But then I suppose she is, more so than me anyway with all her colour. I watch alongside you as the room begins to shake but we do not feel a thing. The room seems to regain its steadiness and the keys change - even I am shocked to see what they say. That silver was tainted by the red outline and even as I looked over at her, the colour in her faded - she was shadowing and soon she would resemble the black and white which I adorned. But why? For she was most certainly more alive than I ever was. As I looked back at you brother, I saw the hope light up inside of you at the thought of us both being alive. But at the same time I see the confusion and it extends to me. Even I do not know how I live!
I look back at her, almost asking her why, but as usual it's as though she does not see me. Could Cedric have something to do with the way things have gone for her? I see now more than ever that my purpose in this world has shifted and that is perhaps why I am still here. My purpose is not to make you remember, you have plenty of people around you to help you in that; Dante, Merlin, Nielson, heck even Basso to some extent. Perhaps my purpose in this world was to help her, bring her back to you and thus conjoin the two worlds that are separated by our depths of colour. She looked over at me then and we shared the same gaze as a tear slipped from her eyes and they faded from green to grey. She was already dying, but why? I couldn't understand it, you were remembering her; so what was the problem?
Passing straight through me, she led the way back into the shrine and I followed alongside my brother and Dante. As I step into the room again and come to stand next to her by the desks, she looks up at me and points to a book resting upon it. It looks old, it's leather cover bound but scratched at the spine. It had obviously been read a gr
eat many times but its importance in this situation didn't yet strike me. It was clear that she wanted my help though, making herself visible to only you was making her weaker than ever. I tried to muster up the strength I needed and for a moment I felt your eyes on me as in the panic I make myself known to you. I feel the power though, just for an instant, and using all the force I have I strike the book to the floor. The sound makes Dante jump out of his skin and you snigger, your eyes still focused on me as I feel the power leave my limbs and I feel I remain invisible once more. You look away longingly, your focus on the book that now lies open on the floor. Dante stares at the open pages, confused as to where he's supposed to be looking. I look over at her and she mouths a word to me that I think I understand 'storm'. Using the magic I once knew, I imagine the pages flicking through, searching for the passages on the Eye of the Storm. Not even I know what she thinks will be there. You go to stand with Dante and pick up the book, reading aloud the words as though you knew them by heart.
Oglivy’s Treatise on ’Known’ Sentients