by Aaron Bunce
Julian guided the boat down the frozen river for a long while, his own hectic, scattered thoughts flitting through his mind. Pera was still there, somewhere on the fringe of his mind, listening, but content to let him navigate the ice in peace.
A sharp stick snapped in the woods beyond the riverbank on his right, jarring him from his task. A whoosh filled the air as snow spilled off a heavily burdened pine tree. Julian caught sight of a large form moving between the branches. Feathers rippled in the light, exposing dark scales and bunching muscles. The large drakin turned, catching sight of the boat, and leapt back into the trees, disappearing as fast as it had appeared.
* * * *
Pera became bored. Navigating the boat was tedious, and didn’t require him. Now that they were free of the Yu warriors, the Nymradic decided to try and get to know his host. After all, there hadn’t really been time since pulling Julian’s dying body into the pool, so much had happened since – so much death.
He wrapped a tendril around a thought, before plunging eagerly into the memory tied to it. Julian was small. He was running awkwardly down a hallway. His thoughts were strange in the memory, as if not quite fully formed. A strange half-speech babbled out of his mouth. Pera found it odd.
He padded quickly forward, his bare feet slapping quietly against the smooth stone. Pera savored the sensation, the subtle variations in surface temperature, not to mention the imperfections in the pitted surface.
Julian babbled something else, and then Pera understood. He was a child, yet to fully grasp his kind’s native language. Odd, but amusing nonetheless. Beautiful lanterns glowed overhead, the flickering light sending every shadow into a fevered dance.
Pera longed to feel the warmth of that light, no, not just the light, but the smooth stone beneath real feet. To stand free, draw air, and experience true vitality again. The memories of his time in the tunnels, immediately following his awakening in the pit, were a cruel reminder of how close he truly came. That thought elicited dark feelings that he was eager to avoid, dark possibilities that he didn’t want to consider. He cursed his condition, and his nature. Some part of him, deep inside, felt guilt and sadness for his violation of Julian’s body. It, no, his mere existence, was a violation now. He hated what he had become.
Julian smacked something against the wall as another form appeared from a hallway to his right. The other child spotted him and shrieked, before turning and bolting down the hall. Julian ran after, Pera savoring the temporary, if not stolen, sense of joy and excitement.
The little girl ran ahead, her tight, blonde curls bouncing crazily all around her head. Julian held affection for the girl, something bound within the memory. Pera could feel it, bound around the memory like a length of radiant thread. He tested it, found it impossible to break, and moved on.
The memory continued. Julian ran through another hallway, before finally catching up to the girl at a dark door. She giggled as he fell over her, tugging at her hair and play slapping. Pera didn’t understand their game.
A sliver of light spilled out over them from a gap in the door. It wasn’t closed as he first thought. Julian’s interest overwhelmed him and he moved towards the light. Pera wound tighter around the memory, savoring the delicate fear, excitement, and curiosity wound within it.
Chubby fingers pushed into the gap in the door and slowly pried it open. The sliver of light widened until he could push a hand, an arm, and then his body through. Another thread of emotion wound into the mix. Anticipation, fear, or was it doubt?
A wide desk sat in the middle of the chamber, facing a stone wall dominated by a fireplace and thick mantle. Two windows sat perched on either side, the sky a somber gray beyond. Julian giggled and ran straight ahead and through another door directly across from the desk.
The sound of the fire crackling and popping filled the space, along with the aroma of wood smoke and something spicy, cinnamon or clove, perhaps. Those aromas triggered specific and strong emotional reactions within the memory. Voices filtered in, quietly at first, but grew louder. Pera felt recognition with the voice, respect mixed with fear and love.
Two men appeared, walking around a far wall, before coming to stand before the desk. One of the men was shorter than the other, wore fine but worn clothes, and had a rather disheveled look. Pera detected the odor of horse mixed with the sour, musky aroma of unwashed body. The other man was taller, draped in finely tailored clothes, and wore a severe if not bored look. His chin was well defined, nose prominent, and his brown-gray hair pulled back and out of his face. Julian’s recognition boomed throughout the memory…father.
Distantly, the world tipped from one side to another. Julian’s focus shifted and Pera was nearly dislodged. Julian’s fear bit into him. He paused a moment, strengthened his hold on the memory and pulled back in. His interest was piqued.
“Oh, only the very finest, sir. Yes, uh huh. I have only now returned from a most productive site. Hidden in the steely hills near Yarborough, my man, Thorben discovered an underground city full of dalan treasures. Burial shrouds of the most exquisite fabric, boxes, jewels, carvings, even…” the shorter man held up a finger, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth.
Pera wanted to urge Julian forward, to get a closer look, but he knew the memory was nothing more than a recollection. A voice cried out, its substance stabbing into him like a blade made up of pain and longing. Pera recoiled from the memory, seeking out the source, but it had already faded back into the distance. It wasn’t part of the memory, but felt far away and weak. It was familiar, tied to him, or what he used to be. A strong sense of loneliness and need blossomed deep within him.
Pera pulled back into the memory. Julian was almost hanging out the door, leaning into the space to get a better view of what the shorter man was showing his father. Pera focused, drawing on every noise.
“No, those are not worth my coin. I told you on the street, I am looking for something unique. Something that no one else will have in their collection, that they will envy,” Julian’s father said, drawing back from the smaller man.
“Well, huh. In that case,” the smaller man stuttered. He looked around, shuffling through several felt pouches on the desk. His hand hovered in the air a moment, as if he was looking for something.
The distant voice echoed back into him, splitting Pera clear of the memory, and severing all but a few strands linking him to Julian. He scrambled to collect himself, latching back onto the memory as an anchor.
The voice, made up almost entirely of pain, stabbed into him so succinctly that Pera believed he was once again flesh and blood. A flurry of images coursed into him. He saw a large black bird, cawing loudly, a dark underground tunnel bathed in darkness, and a young man, rimmed in fire.
Aolin! Bródir, you live! How can it be? That wretched betrayer, Nephera, caught you. I saw her Nym take you to the stones. She sacrificed your life to feed her own, Pera thought, his recognition and subsequent joy so strong it inadvertently sent him spinning back into Julian’s memory.
The boy crept free of the door, abandoning his hiding place completely. Pera struggled, trying to tear free from the memory, to push out and reconnect with his long-lost friend. He wanted to wrap himself in Aolin’s presence and feel something true and familiar, if only for a few moments.
The small man bent over, unstrapping a leather knapsack from his cluster of bags. He stood, clutching the bag closely to his chest. A hungry, expectant look burned in his father’s eyes. His hands slowly floated out, his fingers treading the air like spider’s legs.
“This came out of a barrow hidden in the mountains around Darimar. My man stumbled upon it almost completely out of luck. We’ve never found anything like it, so you must understand the price–”
Julian’s father lashed out, snatching the knapsack from the man’s hands before he could finish speaking. His fingers fumbled hungrily with the strap before throwing the flap open and reaching inside.
“…is a substantial pile of coin,” the
exotic goods merchant finished.
Pera managed to pry enough of his consciousness away from the memory to extend out, seeking his friend. He had to focus his energy, tapping into the reserve of strength they claimed when they fought their way out of Spear Point. He opened himself up, allowing in the chorus of other Nym voices he had willfully blocked out up until now. Aolin’s voice emerged out of the fog.
Why am I just hearing you now, my friend? Where have you been hiding? Pera pressed.
Julian’s heart skipped a beat, and the man muttered something, his irritation brushing by Pera like a warm breeze. He could feel him tapping into their store of energy. Pera ignored his host and focused in, utilizing every ounce of strength to pull his friend closer. He had to know where and how he was. Pera would guide Julian in that direction if need be. He would no longer be alone!
Another wave of images flashed in. The tunnel narrowed down to a dark stair, and then a small room set in inky shadow. Pera saw straw, lengths of heavy, red chain, and a thin, pale-skinned young man, a tattered blanket draped over his shoulders. A name floated into his mind…Roman.
Julian fought against him, cursing loudly, the frozen riverbank and icy water clarifying into a violent backdrop for his grief, but Pera lashed his tendrils into every memory and thought he could reach. Pera briefly glimpsed the pale, young man in the dark cave, an angry mist seeping out of his skin, but in the span between heartbeats, he was pulled back into the memory.
The world tipped and everything grew suddenly cold as icy water splattered their skin, but Pera cared little. What was a moment’s discomfort compared to the promise of friendship returned?
His tendrils, like hundreds of articulate fingers, wove back into Julian’s memories. Pera pulled himself back in, diving fully into the childhood recollection, hoping it would make his connection with Julian stronger, and thus help him connect with Aolin, the last of what he distantly knew as family. The exotic goods merchant watched as Julian’s father opened the knapsack, his fingers twitching in greedy anticipation.
A folded bit of cloth pulled free, an object roughly palm-sized trapped in its folds. Pera watched the first corner pulled open, and then another, before the black fabric fell wide. Light from the window fell upon corroded, black metal.
“Magnificent! It is authentic? It is as rare as you say?” Julian’s father asked, lifting the mask up to inspect it better in the light.
Pera twitched, the recognition flowing through him and into Julian. The child-sized version of Julian edged forward just a bit. He too was interested in the strange wares, but more specifically, the mysterious mask.
“It is, sir. Tis the only one of it’s like we’ve found anywhere in all the provinces. My scholar friend thinks it a burial mask, perhaps used for someone of great import…royalty, or dignitary, perhaps. That, my good sir, is why it is worth its weight in gold and silver. I’ll not part from it easily. But just imagine it sitting behind glass. It could make even the smallest, poorest collection of oddities one to be truly envied.”
“How am I to know that you didn’t simply have a smith forge it, and then claim it a relic? I’ve dealt with those fools before,” Julian’s father asked.
“Let your hands answer that question. Have you ever felt such a metal, such weight in an item of such small size? Do you feel the tingle in your skin against it? It is as if you can feel the life of its previous owner trapped inside! Plus, look on the inside. There,” the merchant said, gesturing for him to turn the mask over. “Do you see those strange etchings? If you hold it in the shadow, you can see them glow with the faintest of green lights. Truly a dalan treasure!”
“I must have it,” Julian’s father said after studying the mask for a time.
Impossible…it cannot be. Pera thought, his emotions whirling out of control, making it that much more difficult to shield himself from Julian. Aolin’s distant voice continued, rising in an urgent pitch, flickering as if made of flames. Pera couldn’t make sense of it.
Julian’s father was holding a mask of the Faceless. It wasn’t just improbable, according to everything Pera knew and felt, but it was impossible. The powerful magic used to craft and bind the mask to the subject bound not only flesh, but metal and soul together. Removing one always destroyed the other. The mask should not exist.
Images pierced into him, flashing brighter as Aolin’s hands appeared, grasping and digging into the young man’s pale flesh. Pera felt Aolin’s voice swell. Something felt horribly wrong.
I will give you a gift…Aolin said, but it wasn’t to Pera. He was Aolin, but he was also a Crow, and a Rat. Pera couldn’t make sense of it. He knew that Julian could sense that something was happening. His heartrate was rising as he poked thought after urgent thought at Pera.
The distant Nym’s life flared suddenly bright, ringing louder than any other in the chorus, and abruptly rushed away in a violent and shocking torrent. Pera lashed out, the sensation of his distant friend dying almost more than he could take.
Aolin was weak. Was he trying to reach out, or tell him something? Was this a sign? Did he know that Pera was still alive? He had been blocking them out, trying to stay invisible to his more predatory brothers and sisters, and suddenly felt the fool for it.
No, not foolish, it was to survive. The others would find me, bind or destroy me. He knew what his kind did to those they viewed as weak. They were the same ones that abandoned him to the stinking depths after their triumphant rebirth, he reminded himself.
Did Aolin die thinking he was alone? The idea drove Pera deeper into anguish, burrowing as far from the light as possible.
Julian’s voice rang out, desperately seeking Pera’s help at the same moment the chorus of Nym grew in strength. The remnant experienced Aolin’s death as vividly as if they stood hand in hand around him. Pera blocked them all out and withdrew, suddenly wishing he had remained in the pit to whither.
He focused on the pale, young man in the vision, the one possessing the stolen fragment of his last remaining friend. Pera would rather see it torn free, to let it evaporate while the world burned, consuming thieves and his wretched kind alike. Everything had changed.
* * * *
Julian spun, just as the small boat collided with the thick encrustment of ice. He rocked forward, his upper body tipping over the side of the boat. He released his grip on the oar as he fought to keep his balance. The paddle wrenched back, slapping him painfully in the back, before popping out of the bracket and bouncing into the water.
Julian hooked his left leg under the seat just as the boat rocked back in the opposite direction, bouncing him up in the air and nearly toppling him bodily into the water. The boat reared back as it rode up onto the ice, the wooden planks splintering beneath him. Julian landed on the side rail and rolled back into the boat as it tipped sideways into the churning water.
Energy blossomed inside, warming Julian’s chest and flowing out into his arms. He could feel Pera constricting around his mind, forcing his thoughts out as it attempted to replace them with its own.
“No!” Julian growled, fighting back, wrenching his body around as he fished for the other oar.
Pera continued its assault on his mind, the energy pooling in his muscles and arcing between his fingers. A voice crept into his head just as his fingers wrapped around the oar. He swung the paddle over the side just as the water swept the boat sidelong into the ice.
We are taking you beyond the High Tinsi, so that the whispering stones may see the truth of you. Only they will know what you truly are, and tell us if the dark days have come. Julian recognized the words, but also the voice. It was Ghadarzehi. Just one of the many times the hulking Yu warrior decided to lord his fate over him.
Julian jabbed the oar into the ice and pushed the boat away, but images were rushing into his mind, scattering his vision. He jabbed blindly before him, feeling the boat rock and the oar skip over the slippery ice.
Everything became a confusing, muddled mess. He managed to get the boat push
ed back into the current, but when he moved to drop the oar into the water the ice bled away, and was replaced by a steep slope, leading down to a sheltered valley.
“I can’t see…you’re going to drown us!” Julian yelled, panic seizing his chest.
Trees clustered all around, their ancient branches hanging like sullen, withered appendages, groaning in every subtle whisper and breath of wind. The path wound through the trees ahead of him, until three dark forms appeared out of the shadows. They loomed, so much like the trees, only infinitely older. Julian could feel them. They had a connection to him, or, to Pera.
Rays of sunlight cut through, spilling over the dark forms. He couldn’t tell if it was the sun shining into the river valley, or Pera’s captured memory. He saw gray stone, its scarred, pitted surface coming alive under the dancing, twisting light.
Everything tilted and Julian was doused in painfully cold water. The river materialized around him for a moment. His heart hammered in his chest and he labored for breath. He thrust the oar forward, catching the ice and thrusting the boat back into the current at the last moment. The water rushed around him with even more intensity. It lapped up against the side of the boat, sloshing inside and soaking his legs and feet.
A pain jabbed into his mind and he was thrust back into the sheltered valley, amongst the watchful trees, and the dark, still forms. They were closer, towering over him, cloaked in inky shadow and mystery. Julian felt the constructs of stone vibrate above him. The buzzing shook the ground, moving through the grass and up into his body. Julian felt his feet leave the ground as he was pulled upwards, towards the dark stone monoliths.
Something roared off in the distance, like a bone-shaking peel of thunder, but it did not stop. Instead, it grew louder. Closer.