Darkblade Guardian

by Andy Peloquin

  "You were like a child," Master Eldor continued, unaware of the Hunter's inner turmoil, "a blank canvas, eager to learn everything of the world around you. Yet you would fly into a rage at the slightest provocation. There was a burning anger within you, and it fell to me to teach you control."

  "So you trained me, just like you train the Elivasti."

  The old man nodded. "When you first took up the sword, you hacked and slashed with all the control of a wildebeest sliding down an icy cliff. You were all brute force, with a total lack of skill and precision. It took me nearly a year to train away all of your bad habits." His face hardened. "Judging by your battle with the Warmaster, you've forgotten most of my lessons."

  The Hunter digested the information. "How long? How long did you train me?"

  Master Eldor frowned in concentration. "Five years or so, I believe."

  Five years. A glimmer of hope rekindled in the Hunter.

  "While you lived with us, you learned almost everything I could teach you. You almost seemed happy, content in your place. It was a simple existence."

  The Hunter's chest tightened. "What happened? Why did I leave?"

  The lines on Master Eldor's face deepened. "I don't know. One morning, you were just…gone." Sorrow darkened his eyes. "You never left word as to why you left or where you went."

  The Hunter lowered his sword and faced the Elivasti. "Did you ever try to find me?"

  "I couldn't. Our contact with the outside world is limited." He motioned to the mountain around him. "Kara-ket isn't the most accessible place."

  "So I was here?" The Hunter's eyes darted to the twin temples, as if staring at them would bring back a lost memory. "I've been here before?"

  Master Eldor nodded. "We came across you on our return from a mission for the Sage. We brought you with us, and I trained you in this very yard." His forehead wrinkled. "You truly remember none of this?"

  The Hunter shook his head. "The Illusionist Clerics, they…tampered with my mind. My memories only stretch fifty years into the past."

  "What?" Master Eldor's eyebrow shot up. "How?"

  A twinge of panic ran through the Hunter as he remembered his encounter with Imperius, the Illusionist Cleric he'd killed in Al Hani. The mad priest had intended to carry out the ritual that erased his memories. He'd escaped—barely. "Suffice it to say, those accursed clerics stole my past. I have but a single memory of you."

  "And what is that memory?"

  The Hunter took a deep breath. "You, teaching me the ritual words, and the Way of the Hunt."

  He heard Master Eldor's voice from long ago. "It is the only thing that separates you from the thugs and murderers that fill this world. It is what separates you from your kind as well."

  "The Way of the Hunt." He repeated the words slowly, savoring each. "I'd forgotten about that."

  "You said it would be the link to my humanity," the Hunter said in a quiet voice. "That it would protect me from the world around me, to bind me to the part of me that is human."

  The old man's brow furrowed. "And after all this time, after everything that has happened to you, you still remember it?" Something indecipherable glimmered in his eyes. Was that hope?

  The Hunter nodded. "It is one of the few things that have remained with me all this time."

  Master Eldor looked at him, expression morose. "You are fortunate to have little recollection of your past. There are things better left forgotten…" His shoulders hunched, and he turned away. "Perhaps you would be wise to end your search for answers now. The torment of memory is much greater than you realize."

  The Hunter knew the feeling all too well. He had his share of painful memories. They haunted him, like unyielding phantasms that refused to leave him in peace. He saw their faces every time he closed his eyes. He, too, had once believed he would be better off forgetting everything. But when confronted with the possibility of having his past erased, he could not. He needed his memories, no matter how agonizing. They were as much a part of him as Soulhunger, his need to kill, or his demon blood. The memories were worth the pain—they served as his only link to who he truly was.

  Master Eldor's shoulders had a new stoop to them. The lines on his face had deepened, and he looked a decade older.

  The torment of memory, indeed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Hunter would never stop his search into his past. Every new discovery led him one step closer to the thing that mattered most to him: an answer to the identity of the mystery woman that plagued his dreams.

  Thoughts of Her, the mysterious woman who plagued his dreams, brought back the familiar longing, twisting in his heart. She had been with him for decades, a memory forever out of his reach. Yet since Voramis, hints about Her had returned. He couldn't forget that She'd driven a dagger into his chest, but his latest memory had given him a broader glimpse into his past. She had been with child. His child.

  He had left Voramis in search of Her. Though he had been waylaid before—first in Malandria hunting down Soulhunger, in Al Hani to rescue Hailen, and now here in Kara-ket to deal with the Sage and Warmaster.

  But the detour had brought him to the one person who might be able to help him remember who She was.

  "Master Eldor, in the years I spent among the Elivasti, did I ever mention a woman?"

  The Elivasti turned to him, surprise written on his face. "What's that?"

  The Hunter hesitated, unsure of what to say. "In my memories…there is a woman. I don't know who She is, but I know in my gut that She is important. In all our time together, I never spoke of anyone?"

  Master Eldor stroked his beard. "Not that I recall. You bedded your fair share of Elivasti, but as far as I know, you never grew attached."

  The Hunter's heart sank. For a moment, he'd dared to hope Master Eldor could help him solve the mystery of the woman from his dreams. Another dead end.

  The old Elivasti shook his head. "I'm sorry. I know that's not what you wanted to hear." He searched the Hunter's eyes. "Is that all that brings you to Kara-ket? The search for answers into your past?"

  Something about the way he emphasized all piqued the Hunter's curiosity. The Elivasti studied him with an oddly intense scrutiny, as if sizing him up for…what? What was he expecting the Hunter to say? Did the old man expect him to reveal his murderous intentions?

  "I've come to learn more of the Abiarazi you call master."

  "I see." Master Eldor's brow furrowed. "And what have you learned?"

  "A great deal." The Hunter met the Elivasti's piercing gaze. "The Sage has told me much of my people. And of yours."

  The purple eyes widened a fraction. "What did he tell you of us?"

  "That your ancestors swore to serve the Elivasti, an oath upheld to this day."

  "Even if we have no desire to obey the will of our fathers before us." The single sentence, spoken in a quiet voice, spoke volumes.

  "A sentiment shared by many sworn to a master they have no desire to serve." Tension filled the training ground, unspoken words and hidden meanings swirling around them. "Or to men unworthy of the power they wield."

  Master Eldor nodded. "Alas, too often we find ourselves trapped in a position from which there is no escape without outside aid."

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. He wasn't certain if he could trust Master Eldor—experience had taught him to be wary of everyone, especially those closest to you—but something about the look in the Elivasti's eyes prompted him to ask, "And if a solution was to present itself?"

  Master Eldor's jaw tightened. "Perhaps the situation would prove less…entangling."

  They locked eyes for a long moment, a strange sort of comprehension passing between them. The brief exchange had revealed a great deal about Master Eldor without a single incriminating word spoken.

  "Of course, an offspring of the Abiarazi might find himself equally indebted to those in power." Master Eldor tightened his grip on the sword hilt. "Unable to resist commands from one they consider 'master'."

&nb
sp; The Hunter growled. "I call no man—or demon—master." His grip on his own sword tightened. "I will have what I came for, and may the Keeper have mercy on those who stand in my way."

  The tension in the old Elivasti's posture relaxed. "Good." The lines in his face faded, and he smiled. "Perhaps there is something more we can offer each other." He held up a hand to stifle the Hunter's question. "Now is not the time for such things. Later, perhaps."

  He replaced his sword on the rack. When the Hunter made to do likewise, the old Elivasti stopped him. "Keep it. It's better than that hunk of metal you carry on your back."

  "Are you certain?"

  The Elivasti nodded. "It has sat on these shelves for over two decades. I had planned to pass it to my son, but…" He swallowed, and pain filled his eyes. "Call it the parting gift I intended to give you all those years ago."

  The Hunter could find no words.

  "And, you may have recourse to use it sooner than you'd expect." Ominous words hanging in the air, Master Eldor strode toward the smithy door. "Come now, Hunter. I believe it is time to give you a tour of the city. I have something I expect you will find of great interest."

  Curiosity burning, the Hunter followed the old man into the noisy smithy. Belros paid them no heed as they passed through, his attention focused on pounding a glowing bar of metal. The Hunter coughed, his lungs burning, and was only too glad when the door clicked shut behind them and they strode through the fresh, open air once more.

  As they walked, the Hunter studied the perfect square houses bordering the street. The unified precision of the buildings went against everything he knew about cities. Much of Lower Voramis was little more than a sprawling mess of ramshackle huts, crumbling warehouses, and buildings covered with more dirt than paint. Yet here, the houses looked as fresh and new as those of Upper Voramis.

  But it was more than that. Something about them seemed…off. Perhaps it was the way the Elivasti walked in and out of their homes without closing doors or windows.

  "How is it possible no one is concerned about theft? The houses are so vulnerable, so open and unguarded! Were I a thief, I could walk in and take whatever I pleased."

  Master Eldor smiled. "There is no crime among the Elivasti. The Sage provides everything we could ask for; we have no need to steal from each other."

  The Hunter stifled a disbelieving snort. In his years as an assassin, he'd seen what humans were capable of. Within every one existed malice, greed, and other base urges. How could anyone, even the descendants of the Serenii, claim to be free of such desires?

  "Where are we going?"

  "There is something you must see for yourself," was all the old Elivasti would say on the matter.

  A trio of passing Elivasti greeted Master Eldor with a bow. "How goes the lowlander's training?" The Hunter recognized the man as an opponent he'd faced on the training field.

  "Slowly." Master Eldor shook his head. "Too many bad habits to unlearn. I fear he will require a good many private lessons before he can match any of my truly gifted pupils. But, as our master's honored guest, it's up to me to whip him into shape."

  The men laughed and bade them farewell. The Hunter's cheeks burned. He'd held his own in the sparring matches; Master Eldor's words stung in a way no sword wound ever had. Anger burning in his chest, he bid the men farewell and stalked after the old Elivasti.

  When they had put distance between themselves and the retreating men, Master Eldor spoke in a low voice. "Some truths are best kept hidden, young Hunter. Trust me on this."

  Once again, the cryptic words inflamed the Hunter's curiosity, replacing his anger. The old Elivasti was leading up to something, but what?

  "How much did the Sage tell you of the Elivasti? Beyond our heritage and our oaths to serve the Abiarazi?"

  The Hunter shrugged. "Not much more. I was hoping you could tell me more."

  If Hailen truly belonged to the purple-eyed descendants of the Serenii, he had to find out more about them. Anything to help him make sense of what had happened in the Advanat. He couldn't come out and ask directly about the transformation that had come over Hailen, but he needed to learn if there was a cure.

  Master Eldor pointed ahead. "Perhaps you will find what you seek here."

  The Hunter's gaze fell on the enormous wall that cut through the city of the Elivasti. As they approached, he realized the sheer enormity of the structure. Though it only stood a dozen paces high, it stretched at least a league from end to end. Cut from the dark stone of Shana Laal, it had been polished to a glass-smooth finish.

  "Impressive. Though it seems an odd thing to have atop a mountain."

  Master Eldor shrugged. "It was here when my forefathers arrived. Built by the Serenii, so they say. We simply make use of their creation."

  "For what?"

  "You will see."

  A few paces away, a gatehouse guarded the single massive gate set into the wall. But Master Eldor turned toward a staircase carved into the stone. "This way."

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow.

  "It will be easier to explain what you need to know from up there." He motioned for the Hunter to ascend first.

  The Hunter stifled the urge to ask questions he doubted Master Eldor would answer. Not yet, at least.

  He basked in the view from atop the wall. There was no green or blue—only harsh whites, blacks, and browns. A landscape of craggy mountaintops jutted hundreds of angular fingers into the distance. Rocky cliffs plunged out of sight, and crevasses carved their way through solid stone. It was a jagged beauty, rough and unkempt, yet breathtaking nonetheless.

  More houses dotted the landscape within the enclosure. Yet compared to the precise symmetry of the dwellings without, these looked crude, barbaric even. Little more than caves that had been hewn from the stone of the mountain. The handful of men and women that wandered through the camp seemed somehow dirtier and more ragged than the people they'd passed in the narrow, orderly streets.

  Shouts and laughter drifted around a corner, accompanied a moment later by a group of dirty children chasing a ball down a muddy alley.

  Suddenly, the Hunter realized what had struck him as odd about the city. He hadn't seen any children!

  In Voramis, the youth of Lower Voramis had played in the streets, sold goods in the marketplace, and clamored for alms in the Beggar's Quarter. He'd encountered far too many of the light-fingered children of the Night Guild in Praamis. Malandria, Aghzaret, everywhere else he'd visited, it had always been the same.

  But not here. In the city of the Elivasti, no children ran through the streets or hid behind their mother's skirts at a stranger's approach. All of them lived within the walled-off enclosure.

  The Hunter turned to Master Eldor. "Why are they all here?"

  Anguish glinted in the Elivasti's eyes. "Because it is the only way to protect them from the Irrsinnon."

  Memories cascaded over the Hunter. The young man writhed in his grip, screaming incoherence into the night.

  "The Irrsinnon has taken him." Anguish lined Master Eldor's sun-darkened face as he wrestled with the dark-haired youth's wildly waving arm. "Hold him tight until it passes. We cannot let him hurt himself."

  Together they wrestled the young man to the ground. He wanted to cover his ears against the shrieks of terror that echoed across the mountain, but he dared not release the twitching, jerking arm.

  The memory dissipated as quickly as it had come, and the Hunter staggered, caught himself on the parapet. Master Eldor, staring off into the distance, didn't notice.

  Horror filled the Hunter. "What insanity is this?!"

  Master Eldor leaned on the parapet, shoulders hunched. "Not all of the gifts passed on to us by our forebears were favorable." He spoke in a quiet voice. "For all our strength and our long lives, there is a curse upon the Elivasti—one dating back to the great Serenii themselves. We are doomed to madness, unless we remain within the shadow of the Serenii."

  The Hunter turned to Master Eldor, his eyes wide. "What
does that mean?"

  Master Eldor nodded toward the twin temples of Kara-ket. "The Serenii artifacts. We must remain in close proximity to them, else the madness overtakes us." He motioned at the camp below. "It comes upon us while we are still young, though every child experiences it at a different age. The madness seizes some while they suckle their mother's teat, while others do not show any signs until they reach maturity. We do not know what brings it on, but there is no escaping it. In the end, the Irrsinnon takes us all."

  The Hunter studied the Elivasti. "You don't look mad."

  Master Eldor gave a harsh chuckle. "And that is, in large part, thanks to these monuments left by the Serenii. When we are near them, our madness is kept at bay. This is why so many of the Elivasti remain here in Kara-ket, within the shadow of our ancestors. Within this wall"—he patted the stone parapet—"we are safe."

  The Hunter's mind raced. "But what about the others? Those who leave Kara-ket to carry out the Sage's orders." He'd encountered Elivasti in the Chasm of the Lost. Surely there were no Serenii monuments there. "And you. You live outside the wall. Why are you not mad?"

  "There is a fruit—opia, it is called, the 'fruit of the gods'. It has the power to cure the madness."

  "How?"

  Master Eldor shrugged. "I do not know. All I know is that it works."

  "So the children remain there until they are given the opia? Until they can be cured?"

  "Indeed. They must go through the Expurgation, but for it to work, their madness must have manifested."

  "How can you know?"

  Master Eldor tapped his orbital bone. "The eyes. The color…changes."

  The Hunter stiffened. "To purple?"

  Master Eldor nodded. "The change marks the onset of the Irrsinnon. The madness only gets worse with time."

  A chill ran down the Hunter's spine. No! That day, in the Advanat Desert, Hailen's eyes had changed. No longer icy blue, they matched the violet of Master Eldor's. And the young man from his memory. The Elivasti aren't born that way. Does that mean…