Into the Fold

by Chase Blackwood

  Adel wrinkled his brow and broke into a smile, as memory dawned. It was an old joke they had played on Thomas at the start of their pilgrimage. It felt like another lifetime ago. A hint of nostalgia tickled at his senses. Things had been so much simpler then.

  “I’m pretty sure Master Cassius took a wrong turn,” Adel replied, “I think we were supposed to take a left, swim through the moat, go under the wall, and then take a right…”

  “Directly through the pastry shop.” Aeden finished for him.

  Adel laughed, temporarily forgetting recent events.

  “I’m sure the masters know where they’re going,” Garit interceded, “plus, it’d be impractical to swim the moat when there’s a bridge.”

  Garit’s face was serious. He had trouble understanding sarcasm.

  Aeden and Adel struggled to stifle their laughter.

  Their smiles faded as the weight of discomfort settled back into their hearts. Yet, Aeden didn’t allow those discomforts to define him. They were nothing more than the distant nagging of someone else’s child.

  Instead, he watched as Adel passed him, resuming his search for the sweet smell of pastries. He was followed by Sakhira, Garit, and Muriel.

  Aeden allowed his attention to wander. The voices of the group faded into the background. He looked about, in an effort to distract from his thoughts.

  Fine stonework defined the roadway. Three and four-floor buildings stood on either side. Arched doorways framed brightly colored doors. Breathtaking statues bolstered balconies and looked down upon the passing group. Smaller statues of deformed children lingered in obscurity.

  Narrow passageways branched off the main roadway. To the right, Aeden glimpsed stairs, partially cast in shadow, marching into the darkness. To his left, the nearby alley was so narrow he wasn’t sure if he could easily pass.

  “Admiring the scenery,” a woman’s voice said.

  Aeden turned and noticed that again, Thea had been watching him. He attempted a smile. She had been trying to get his attention since they’d arrived in the Fold. What he couldn’t figure out, was why?

  “It’s amazing,” Thea continued, “Who would have believed the story of Magus and Bellas was real, but here we are,” she said before her voice trailed off.

  Again, Aeden found himself nodding. He looked up and saw the group work their way up the gradual hill.

  The story of Magus and Bellas? What was she talking about?

  The vague memories of a bear-like monk named Blaise, at the Monastery of the Holy Order of Sancire, Bodig, came to mind. A younger Aeden sat listening to a story, upon the stone floor of the monastery. He recalled the shape of the stones upon the floor, the timber of the monk’s voice, and the slightly rebellious tone as Blaise used Magus’ old name, Ansuz.

  Blaise’s words now floated back into memory’s recollection.

  “Ansuz witnessed the people’s pain. He ignored the whispers of Salvare and unleashed his magic upon the darkened lands. He created an island of unequaled beauty. He cast it in perpetual light, so that twilight’s deep purpling was the only shadow cast upon the ground. He shaped the forests, the water, and the soil into shapes and colors never before seen.”

  The memories faded, leaving Aeden once more in the present moment.

  “We shouldn’t fall behind,” Aeden suggested.

  Thea attempted her own version of a smile, before sighing and walking off. Aeden knew that he had missed something. He knew that she had wanted to say something more. He just wasn’t ready to hear it. Too much had happened.

  Aeden watched for a moment as Thea walked away. She was hugging herself in a bid for warmth. Her figure swayed enticingly. He too suppressed a small shiver. They had all become so accustomed to the tropical island of Galdor, that the mountain air felt bitingly cold in comparison.

  Aeden took in a breath and followed. He hardly noticed some of the townspeople stepping out of their shops and taverns. His thoughts were elsewhere. They were with Thea.

  Had she resumed her interest in him because he’d saved her life? The Inquisitor attack had taken them all by surprise. It had affected them all differently.

  Aeden simply wanted some peace and quiet, and perhaps, more secretly, a warm body to hold, to comfort him, to sleep beside, and to release his tension with.

  His adolescent wanderings had so ensnared his mind that Aeden nearly stumbled into Daniel. The group had paused in an open square within the shadow of a monolithic tower and a smaller tower hidden in its shadow.

  “Can you believe it?” Dan asked, shielding his eyes as he attempted to peer up into the heavens.

  Aeden glanced about the square. It was anchored on one end by a long building with a series of graceful, open-air arches and stained-glass windows. The other two sides of the square were defined by taverns. It was the north end that captured everyone’s attention.

  It was the Tower of the Arkein.

  Its massive curve was wide and gentle, dominating the square with its mass and simplicity. A set of stairs led to a pair of enormous doors. Already he could see Master Glass leading the group up the stairs and into the tower itself. The group was dwarfed by the entryway, like insects entering a mausoleum.

  Memories of standing outside Abbot Filbert’s room in the Monastery of the Holy Order of Sancire, before the pilgrimage, came to mind. Odilo’s words echoed faintly in memory.

  “No more dreaming, it’s time to see Verold for what it is…”

  It was time to face his destiny.

  With a breath, Aeden walked up the stairs, not yet realizing how his life was about to change.

  Chapter 14

  “History is a mirror that refuses to reflect the truth.” Anonymous – Tower of the Arkein

  Aeden stepped through the threshold, passing under the enormous doorway, and into the Tower of the Arkein. Unbeknownst to Aeden, new paths were unraveling before him. Paths that would twine his fate with that of Verold and the future shape of history.

  One of those pathways was an immutable line that stretched its latent bindings across impossible distances, giving an amorphous texture to the air, for those who could see. For those blinded by their senses, it formed a pattern of sleeping thought, prodding in shadow.

  The weight of antiquity fell upon the group in waves of evanescent intensity. It slowly uncurled its hand and revealed fragments of grandeur and impossible feats of engineering. It whispered of days long since passed and hinted at probable uncertainties.

  Basking in the glorious weight of it all, stood a massive statue of two figures, hand-in-hand. They dominated the center of the colossal space. Seven bright fires, burned fiercely, high along the gently curving wall. A curved mirror focused the light of each of those fires onto the statue, highlighting it and bathing the sculpted pair in angelic luminescence.

  “That’s Magus and Bellas,” Thea whispered.

  Adel touched his heart and lips before uttering a brief prayer. Many paused, affected by the weight of the scene. A few continued to walk forward. Leading the small pack was Caine. He appeared oblivious to the subtle hues of flavor that marked the space. False confidence insulated him in a sheet of cold arrogance.

  “So, it’s true then,” Aeden responded quietly, “the greatest of the gods built this place.”

  Thea was nodding imperceptibly, “Magus built it for the love of his life,” she said, tears lingering on the edges of her vision.

  It was strange, but Aeden felt a sudden urge to cradle her. He wanted to sweep Thea up in his arms and protect her from the world. To guard her against feelings of sadness. To make her know that someone cared. To fight any who would dare harm her. But his feet remained rooted to the spot, as if too heavy to move. His hands hung awkwardly at his side.

  A raven circled the open space and landed on the outstretched hand of Ansuz, peering down with curiosity at the arriving group, looking like a blackened finch within the statue’s massive hand.

  “Don’t stare directly at the fires,” Cassius announced,
“They’re enhanced magnesium fires, and their brightness could burn your eyes to blindness.”

  Laurent elbowed Dan, “Not to mention, singe your eyebrows.”

  Dan chuckled in response.

  Aeden couldn’t help but glance at the flames. They were a bright yellow and white, with blindingly intense sparks, showering beyond the sconces at irregular intervals.

  He tore his gaze away, white spots dancing behind closed eyelids. Dan and Laurent resumed their discussion.

  “I miss the cicadas, it’s too quiet here,” Laurent said.

  “I could whistle for you,” Dan replied.

  “Dear Salvare no,” Laurent said, shaking his head earnestly, “Please don’t.”

  Aeden attempted to blink away the pattern of sparks that now marred his vision. Thoughts of S’Vothe flashed before his mind. The molten fire that poured from the sky all those years ago, seemed like a dream. The echoing sounds of a burning village, however, were all too real.

  Aeden knew his people were trapped in purgatory, their souls slowly rotting. They needed vengeance. It only served to remind him of his failure and his duty.

  The memories and the guilt slowly faded as his vision cleared. The image of a draccus fiend flapping its leathery wings, suspended in the sky, was the final memory that lingered.

  “Please,” Master Glass announced, “let’s make our way to the Chamber of Light, where Grandmaster Kaldi awaits.”

  The dark-robed master looked about, his gaze settling for the briefest moment on Aeden. A subtle frown shaped his mouth, and a slight furrowing of his brow marked his features. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

  Aeden hardly noticed as he glanced about, looking for another doorway to a different chamber. Looking for a distraction. He saw none.

  Master Glass strode confidently across the space, his footfalls hardly making a sound.

  “If you won’t pay now,” Laurent resumed, “then I have a proposition for you.”

  Daniel turned to look at his shorter, wider companion. Interest was clearly expressed upon his face.

  “I’m listening.”

  Aeden half listened as they came upon the base of the towering statue. Adel’s attention was elsewhere. Only Thea seemed to be paying the twosome any consideration.

  “I’ll double the bet,” Laurent said, “If we don’t see some proof of the arkein today, I’ll pay you the terms of the original bet, but if we do, then you owe me double.”

  Daniel seemed to ponder Laurent’s words, before a smile stole his lean features.

  “That hardly makes any sense,” Dan smirked, “Counter offer. If I win, you pay me triple, otherwise we keep the original terms, save that one modification, and only changing the terms based on the aforementioned conditional statement.”

  Thea was openly shaking her head.

  Aeden continued to only partially listen as he ran a hand along the base of the statue. Adel continued to stare into the distance.

  “New, new terms,” Laurent said, “You stop whistling for a week, if the doubling of my terms of the original change, to the original bet, come to term.”

  Thea couldn’t take anymore, “How in the seven hells have you two survived beyond the womb, spouting so much shit?”

  Both Laurent and Dan fell silent. They turned in unison to look at Thea.

  “Carefully,” Dan replied proudly.

  “And with only a few scratches,” Laurent added.

  “I can’t deal with either of you,” she said, turning to face the statue, and moving away from the twosome.

  Adel had already begun moving to catch up with the rest of the group. He was squinting as if trying to make out a pattern upon the far wall.

  Laurent and Dan watched as Thea turned away, shrugged and caught sight of Adel.

  “Wait up!”

  They strode forward to catch up with Adel and move toward Master Glass, who’s group was approaching the far side of the grand space.

  Aeden hardly noticed as his friends walked off. He remained transfixed by the statue. His fingers continued to trace lines along the pedestal. Something didn’t feel right. It felt similar to the lingering pressure he had experienced after the sappers had blown up the gates to the caliph in Sha’ril.

  “You used to touch me like that,” Thea said.

  Aeden looked up, startled. He glanced about with a hint of shame coloring his cheeks.

  “No one’s within earshot,” she said, “Except the old gods…”

  Aeden swallowed a rising lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure how to respond. What could he say that hadn’t already been said?

  “…and those we carry in our heart,” he replied, thinking about those he’d lost, knowing those unavenged remained, watching and listening.

  Thea’s posture changed as she crossed her arms across her breasts. Her face grew serious.

  “Who’d want those mitts on them anyway? Your hands are too rough,” her tone changed.

  She looked at him, as if waiting for a response. Aeden said nothing.

  “I’ll leave you to your statue.”

  She didn’t say another word and stalked off.

  Aeden stood there a moment longer, stunned into silence.

  He stood within the apparent mausoleum of a god, yet his thoughts lingered on the fumbling interactions of adolescence.

  What had just happened?

  His fingers fell from the pedestal, as his mind worked over Thea’s words.

  He closed his eyes and took in a steady breath. The air felt old. It reminded him of the Monastery of the Cave. It was the last place he had seen the archduchess.

  Suddenly, Aeden longed for his interactions with Alina Cynesige. She had been perfection manifested. He missed the way she smelled in the midst of a cold night. He missed the way she brushed her dark hair away from her eyes. He missed the way her body felt, pressed against his. The archduchess had been the key to his lock, and now they were forced apart by consequence.

  Aeden whispered a quiet prayer for Alina’s safety before opening his eyes.

  He glanced about and saw he was all alone. Thea was trailing Laurent, Dan, and Adel.

  Without another thought, Aeden hurried to catch them. He slowed as he approached the larger group from the University of Galdor.

  As Aeden approached, Adel spoke.

  “You don’t think we’re taking those, do you?” Adel’s voice was shaky.

  Aeden turned to his friend before following Adel’s gaze.

  There, hidden amidst the pattern of stones in the wall, appeared to be stairs. They narrowly hugged the gentle curve of the broad tower, wrapping around into the distance and disappeared into the height of the mausoleum.

  “The stairs?” Aeden clarified.

  Adel merely nodded.

  “I’m not walking up that,” Adel said.

  “It’ll be fine,” Aeden said soothingly.

  “Stairs?” Laurent breathed loudly, “My legs are so damned tired after the stupid ten thousand steps. Plus, there’s no railing, and they’re so narrow.”

  “Not to mention high,” Dan added.

  “Shut up,” Thea said protectively.

  Both Laurent and Daniel turned to look at her for a moment.

  “There is no support,” Master Glass announced to the group, “Stay close to the wall, and don’t look down. We’ve already lost enough students this year,” the last was said in a whisper.

  Laurent looked to Thea, as if waiting for a response.

  “Why’s he allowed to say it?”

  Adel hardly noticed. Thea had put an arm around him. Her eyes flicked to Aeden for a fraction of a second, before turning her full attention to Adel.

  “What did he mean by that?” Adel asked, his eyes wide.

  “I’m sure it was a joke,” Thea said softly.

  “I don’t know, have you seen those stairs,” Laurent continued.

  Aeden looked up. Master Glass was already marching up the steps. He was followed by Masters Cassius and Ashdown. Tr
ailing behind in single file were Caine, Sakhira, Garit, and Muriel.

  Aeden didn’t want to admit it, but he felt a small tingle of anticipation in his gut.

  “Just stay close to the wall,” Aeden said, as much to himself as to Adel, giving him a gentle shove, “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Adel nodded, his eyes were like two open saucers. He looked carefully at the stairs, as if they were made of live snakes. His hands were visibly shaking.

  “Two drams says he doesn’t make it all the way up,” Laurent whispered to Dan.

  Aeden turned and gave Laurent a stern look, “He will make it up.”

  Laurent fell silent, as he too fell into single file behind Adel, Aeden, and Thea.

  The climb was tortuously slow. Adel stopped numerous times. His hands gripping the wall for support. His breathing was shallow and sweat was evident on his brow, despite the cool air. Adel looked as though the entire building would come crumbling down about him at any moment.

  At one point, Adel froze.

  Aeden, Adel, Thea, Laurent, and Dan were approximately halfway up the stairway. Although it afforded a beautiful view, at eye level of the grand statue, it caused some mild cursing and frustration.

  “Can we go,” Thea intoned, a hint of fear bleeding through her usually reserved tone.

  “This is a great view,” Laurent commented enthusiastically, “I’m glad we stopped here, my legs were getting tired.”

  “Can we go,” Thea repeated quietly.

  Aeden ignored them. His eyes were on Adel. His friend’s face had grown ashen with fear.

  “Do you think someone could jump and survive?” Laurent asked rhetorically.

  “No,” Dan responded.

  “It’s ok,” Aeden whispered to Adel.

  Adel, however, wasn’t listening. He was gripping the wall and breathing in short, shallow breaths. His face was white as new-fallen snow.

  “Can we please go,” Thea said again.

  “What if I stacked a pile of pillows on the ground?” Laurent amended.

  Aeden continued to ignored them. His attention was focused on his friend. He took in a long and slow breath, centering himself and reaching a state of atori. Calmness enveloped him. Aeden then opened his eyes and talked gently to Adel.