Shadows and Embers

by Lindsey Richardson

  “Christopher wants you to act like this, but that doesn't mean you have to fall into his trap,” Celestria said.

  I sighed. “This isn't a trap. I've known Nicia for years, and I'm sick of trying to look past everything she's done. You want war? We already have it right here among our 'friends.' Go with Alaire; this isn't the time to argue with me.”

  I listened as she walked away, and then I continued on with my path. More than anything I wished I could have convinced them to meet with me somewhere else. Nicia didn't deserve their pity, but they could not see her for the fiend that she was. Whether it was morally right or not, it was time I made her pay for her treason. The more it hurt her the better; it was what she deserved for leading us on to believe she was the better person.

  It felt like the blood inside of me was boiling, threatening to burst out of my skin at any instant. I couldn't keep a clear image of Nicia in my head; my only thoughts were on the swift swing of my dagger and its efficiency. What I would do once I actually had a hold of Nicia was unclear; thoughts were clouded in my head by the pounding against my skull. The pain was treacherous, and it didn't seem fair that Celestria and Alaire were able to be together in a world where destiny forbid it but the women of my world was destined to destroy my manhood. She had ended our friendship, assisted in ending Destin, and now she would make the last and most fatal blow... Ending our survival. It was not the fact that I would die, but more so that Alaire and Celestria would die with me in vain all because we had been blinded by her trickery.

  Glancing down, I noticed the gem in my hand was glowing red. I stopped where I was, ducking in an ally way as a group of men passed by. It was difficult to tell who was a magician without risking being interrogated, but it was safe to assume that large groups of people were to be avoided. The red light from the gem was still illuminating, glowing dimly in the shadows. Could Celestria and Alaire have been caught? Suddenly there was laughter filling the silence in the ally, but when I turned around I could only see the faint outline of a tall figure.

  “Was your father a coward as well? I should have known you'd be running out from the safety of your home as soon as White magicians were called in,” a man's voice said.

  I gasped, recognizing it instantly.

  “Enric?”

  He laughed again. “Did you think I would allow the likes of you to live when my son's at risk? I remember the day you nearly killed me, so when the White magicians were asking for information and offering a reward I thought 'why not? If he couldn't kill me in front of his beloved mother, he won't do it now.'”

  Something burst inside of me, and before I could control my actions I withdrew both of my daggers and threw them across the ally one after another. The first one missed, but the second hit and Enric cried out in pain. The smell of blood rose into the air, and the red light from the gem seemed to be glowing more brightly now. Enric fell backward, and I ran over to where he was. Kneeling down, I shone the gemstone on his body to see where the dagger had cut in. The weapon was in his right leg; the stains barely shown through his black pants.

  “What have you done?!” Alaire's voice called from nearby.

  The gem changed partially blue, but the other half remained red. There were voices nearby, and if they were magicians they would recognize the smell of blood. Ignoring Alaire, I reached for the second dagger that laid on the ground.

  “Go ahead and do it, you coward. Kill me in cold b-blood,” Enric said, spitting out his words painfully.

  I wrapped my grip around the dagger. The smell was intoxicating, but the glimmer from the dagger reminded me there could be one less problem if I took the risk. Enric could never tell reveal me or my friends so long as I ended it here and proved to him who the real coward was.

  “Leal!” Alaire hissed, crawling into the ally. “You can't do this. It's murder!”

  “He betrayed us; not Nicia!” I said, holding the dagger up to his neck.

  “You'll live everyday reliving this moment, wishing you hadn't done it. I still do, and I would not wish that burden upon you when you have the chance to avoid it,” he insisted, attempting to grab my hand.

  Tightening my grip on the dagger, I whispered, “I was ready to kill Nicia because of this. You want me to spare this fool? One less human will not end the world; one less Dark magician could end ours.”

  “Are you willing to kill me too? Because I'm stopping you whether you like it or not,” he said, grabbing my arm with more strength this time.

  “Help me! I've been stabbed! Help!” Enric shouted.

  Alaire snatched the dagger from me, pulled me up and started running. Celestria was around the corner waiting, but she quickly joined in when Alaire made it evident that he would not be stopping. Voices rose in the streets and magicians were calling for backup. I had brought this upon us, and I was certain Alaire and Celestria were furious at me. I was no better than Enric by placing us in harm's way, but a part of me still doubted I would have been able to stop. The dagger was convincing; it had a promise like no other solution.

  We ran behind houses and stores to avoid confrontation with locals, since there was a crowd moving from the marketplace toward where Enric was. Alainne would be furious if she ever found out what I did to her husband, but she was the least of my worries. I could tell by the paths Alaire was taking that we were heading back to Nicia's house, though I wasn't sure I belonged there after the thoughts I had earlier on. Even though Enric was the one who betrayed us, I felt uneasy at the thought of facing her. Fortunately when Alaire knocked at the door Rostland answered and there appeared to be no one else inside.

  “We need your help,” Alaire said, though he looked like he was ready to collapse.

  Rostland closed the door after Celestria stepped inside, but he glanced around the house like something was out of place.

  Frowning, he said, “Nicia went to find you. Why isn't she here?”

  Then, as if knowing where to look, he walked to the window and glanced outside. He gestured for us to look as well. Alaire and Celestria looked out to the window nearest us, and I went to stand by Rostland. The crowd outside was cheering now, and raising up their fists and shouting “witch” at the top of their lungs. At the front of the crowd Jacquette was tying Nicia's hands behind her back, and then she was placing Nicia in the hands of two muscular men. They took her away, though the locals were still yelling profane nicknames at her as she left. From where we stood it seemed like Nicia was not struggling at all to get away from the men. I glanced up at Rostland, and his eyes met mine with disappointment. I could hardly blame him; Nicia would be convicted for a crime she had not committed.

  “Let it be known that this woman will be sentenced to her death by order of the Prince and the Council by dawn tomorrow. Anyone else found practicing Dark magic will meet the same fate,” Jacquette called out to the raging locals. They silenced at her remark, though several of them nodded eagerly in agreement.

  I bit my lip and looked over to Alaire, but he shook his head at me and then whispered something into Celestria's ear. I would have given anything to know what he had said, to know how much of a coward and murderer he saw me for. Secrets were bleeding out, and by dawn the greatest secret of all would die.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  One Selfless Act

  My heart was torn, and for the first time I felt like we were miles apart. I tried to remember her, every aspect of her beauty and her mind. Lying down in her bed, I imagined what it would have been like to lay with her in this room. Just to lie next to her, to hold her against my chest and feel her heartbeat against my bare skin would have been enough. It might have been the one time she would have offered a full smile, and I in return could have smiled without faking it. There weren't a lot of personal belongings in her room. There was a comb and a mirror on her small dresser. For an instant I sat up in the bed and reached for the comb, but once I had it in my hands I landed back on the bed facing up to the ceiling. I closed my eyes, and I wished we could be where
we left off after the first time we kissed. She spent years seeking love from a man who never noticed her until he was gone, but I had been no better than Malin.

  “Leal?”

  “Nicia!” I opened my eyes and jumped up, but I slouched back down at the sight of Celestria.

  “She's allowed one visitor before dawn, and she's requested to see you. Rostland can take you,” she said.

  I held the comb against my chest, caressing the wooden handle. I started laughing, and I couldn't stop at the thought of how pathetic I looked. To everyone else I was a foolish boy laying in a woman's bed, clinging onto her comb like it was a significant part of her life. Soon the laughter stopped, my throat throbbed, and I thought the hole in my heart would bleed out.

  Slipping off the bed, I said, “Take me to her.”

  Rostland stepped inside and gestured for me to follow after him. I noticed Alaire was sitting at the table as we left, looking over a map of some sort. There was no telling how long I had lain in Nicia's bedroom, but once we walked outside it was dark. I felt guilty and worthless for having done nothing to help Nicia's situation, and not to mention I hadn't spoken to Alaire about Jacquette.

  “The feeling you have in your heart? The one feeling like your world is coming to an end? Don't let that consume you, boy. Tell her how much she means before it's too late,” Rostland said, pulling me aside as a group of children passed us. There were candles lit in most of the houses now as families gathered together for dinner.

  “After this is over I need your help to defeat Christopher's magicians. We don't need another Aldemund on our hands, and I need you in this war,” I replied, though fully aware that I had ignored his comment.

  “This is the last war I'll be involved in. I've seen enough to last me an eternity, but yes, I will join you for this last time,” he agreed.

  We walked past the marketplace, and I noticed a tent set up with a guard standing outside. When we approached closer a spark of fire lit up in his palm, and Rostland held out his arm before I walked any further.

  “Only Leal Irvine is allowed to enter,” the man said.

  I pushed away Rostland's arm. “I am who the lady has asked for.”

  He pulled back the flap of the tent and gestured for me to enter. I glanced back at Rostland once before entering, and then I stepped inside and the flap was closed. The tent was entirely dark except from the light coming from the magician outside. I couldn't see where Nicia was, and the thought of not being able to see her after everything we had been through hardly seemed fair.

  “Can we have some light in here?” I called out.

  “Of course you can,” a man's voice said, though he sounded much closer than the magician outside. An ember spark lit up across the tent, revealing I was not alone with Nicia. The man had long white hair; the same one I had seen with Rostland: Wilhem. Then looking down I saw Nicia, and the fact that we weren't alone did not seem important anymore. Her blonde hair covered her shoulders, appearing wavier than it ever had been before. Her face remained down, looking at the ground, and her body was tied against the wooden pole that held the tent together.

  “Can we have a moment alone?” I asked.

  Wilhem chuckled. “No. This woman's dangerous; I have strict orders, and surely you can understand that.”

  I realized he knew who I was this time, but I was puzzled why I was not also being tied up. Regardless, I knelt down and rose Nicia's chin until her eyes met with mine.

  “Have they hurt you?” I asked, examining her face for any sign of abuse.

  Her glance lowered. “No; I meet my fate in the morning.”

  There was a pause, and then she smirked. “Imagine that... my last night alive, there's no rain, but some miracle of God has brought you here.”

  With shaking hands I caressed her cheek, mesmerized by the softness of her skin. I tried to push aside the thoughts of earlier where all I had wanted was to lay with her, but the thought was blurring my vision. She didn't need to see my cry, especially when she must have known we planned on saving her.

  Whispering, she said, “Do you remember when Esmour took my magic? Do you remember what I said to you in the darkness?”

  I shook my head, though the movement threatened to reveal the tears filling up in my eyes. I leaned my head against hers, and I didn't care anymore if Wilhem heard every word we said. He didn't sound like he was willing to reveal Nicia's innocence to anyone when surely the whole town was convinced that she was the kind of person they despised.

  “You have to remember, Leal. You have to...” she said.

  Though I could remember the day, I couldn't remember anything significant she had said. It was another time my rage had consumed me too much for anything else to matter. Feeling too ashamed to admit the truth, I changed the subject.

  “I can't watch this happen to you,” I said, staring into her eyes and convincing myself that I wouldn't cry so long as I was in front of her.

  “I don't want you to, but I did this for you, for Alaire and Celestria, and for whatever is left to the legacy of Dark magicians. Please don't make this harder than it already is,” she responded.

  My eyes widened at the realization of what she was saying. When she had went to find us the magicians already found Enric, and in order to protect our identity she gave herself up.

  “Time's up,” Wilhem snapped.

  I turned to him and glared. “Give me a minute. Give me one more minute!”

  Returning to face Nicia, I cupped her face with both of my hands and kissed her multiple times. Then, pulling away from her lips, I whispered, “I love you. I've loved you for such a long time, and I've been a stubborn fool. We can fix our past; I know we can once we get past this.”

  A tear fell down her cheek. “I l-love you too...”

  The spark went out and the darkness returned. A pair of firm arms grabbed me and forced me to stand up, attempting to drag me away. Though I tried to fight against Wilhem, he succeeded in pulling me away and in a matter of minutes I was thrown outside of the tent. Rostland was waiting for me, though he reached for his sword when I landed on the ground. I reassured him that I was fine, and with that we started back to the house. Once we were out of earshot from the magicians, he explained to me how we would save Nicia.

  ***

  At the break of dawn everyone in the household was awake. We hadn't left Nicia's house since Rostland and I returned. Everything from this point forward required our full attention and perfect timing. The plan was simple; we would split up and whichever pair found Nicia first had the task of saving her. Celestria and I were heading for the tent in case we could grab her before they took her away while Alaire and Rostland would be walking in the direction of where the wood was being set up. They were burning her at the stake for her “sins;” the foul beasts were going to torch her.

  “Are you ready?” Celestria asked as we stepped outside.

  I waved to Alaire and Rostland as they headed in the opposite direction. They followed a group of people that I had never seen before, thus I assumed they were White magicians. I frowned, wanting nothing more but to make them pay. It wasn't vengeance I was seeking; it was justice. Justice for the lives they had taken, for the futures they had ended, for the destinies they had never allowed to be followed.

  “I'm as ready as I'll ever be,” I responded at last, pushing aside my thoughts and checking that both daggers were safe in their carriers.

  “Why didn't Esmour mention this day in his journal? Alaire said he read further into it, but he never said anything about Nicia dying,” she said.

  “Because Nicia's life has nothing to do with destiny. This is fate, and today we're changing it,” I replied.

  On that note I led her toward the tent. There was no telling how long we had; for all we knew the minutes were counting down to the moment when Nicia would be tied against a wooden pole. If it so happened that Christopher was inside the tent we wouldn't give him a second chance. He escaped us twice now, and after what he was planni
ng to do to Nicia, I had no patience. Some deeds are easily forgotten; others are punishable for all of time.

  The town was surprisingly quiet, though at this hour most families were asleep. There was an overcast in the sky, and perhaps if we were lucky it would rain. Either way the burning was not something we could hope luck would interfere with. I traced the path that Rostland had showed me the previous night, and once the tent was in sight I motioned for Celestria to duck down. The tall man from before and Wilhem stood outside, keeping their eyes focused on the houses in front of them. With my hand, I motioned for Celestria to follow after me and we sneaked around the corner of the bakery. The shop was entirely empty, but that forced each step we took to be made with as little noise as the last. A few more steps and I would be close enough to the tent to enter through the back. Turning back, I mouthed the words “wait here,” and then crept toward the tent.

  “Why is it we're taking orders from Christopher's lady, eh? I thought he'd want to be here for when we burn the hag,” the taller man said, nudging Wilhem's elbow.

  I withdrew my dagger as I approached closer to the tent. The back had no flaps, but I hoped it would be possible to cut through the material without drawing any attention.

  “He has his own business to attend to. Don't worry he'll be here by the end of this, though it might be wise for you to keep your mouth shut, Jolis. Wouldn't want me saying something to him, would you?” Wilhem responded.