by Aaron Bunce
Pera knew that emotional attachment was a stone. It can anchor you to something solid, or drown you in a sea of despair, Pera thought. Then I will drown.
The Nym tore through its own memories, sorting through the fog of disembodied time floating in the underground pool. It broke through the ultimate barrier, death, reliving every pinprick and jolt of pain from that violent end, savoring in its part of the rebellion and the wretched Evermother’s fall.
Finally, after flitting between a lifetime’s worth of memories, Pera found what it was looking for. It latched onto the memory and desperately dove in.
The swirling fog solidified into trees and rocks, grass tickling his feet and ankles. Pera looked down. It was in its own body, and whole again, if only to live in that moment as a teasing reminder.
The Nym soaked in the distant sensations of its bare feet against the ground, the thin robe brushing against his body, and the wind – the blessed wind. He smelled of trees, mud, and sacramental oils, the breeze disturbing small feathers budding beneath the robe. A connection was formed to another memory, a portion of Pera’s consciousness drifting off in another direction. The Nym remembered then. Those feathers would eventually grow large and magnificent. Pera gazed at his hands, the sight of his smooth palms and long, spidery fingers a jarring sensation.
Me. My body…my hands. Pera had been removed from it for so long that he hadn’t expected such a strong emotional swell. How many lives had he changed with those hands, intricate spells woven? Over the ages, how many lives had they taken?
“I feel it. It is close,” Aolin hissed from across the clearing. Pera looked over, finding his oldest friend standing on the other side of the clearing, his impossibly long, bone-thin hands held out towards the dark trees. Large, antler-like horns protruded through his hair. He had always been one with the beasts of the wild, studying them and molding his own form to mirror theirs. “It is…so…powerful, so wild!” his friend added.
“My wards drew it in, just as I predicted! It is a shame that we must bind it,” Pera whispered, sensing the powerful being slide through the trees.
“We have no other choice,” Aolin countered. “Is the blade ready?”
A small dalan padded forward, a long, curving blade with a claw-shaped handguard held protectively in his arms. The black metal gleamed in the moonlight.
“It is. A single shard has been removed from the blade,” the dalan said, hopefully, carrying the long weapon over to a stone slab table and setting it down. As soon as the blade touched the slab, a series of glyphs etched into the stone glowed to life.
Pera felt his inscription pull on him, the magic already seeking to pull the most powerful life force into the sword.
“Be prepared to act fast, Poe. Once we activate the whispering stones, it will be trapped within the clearing. We will force it to manifest…the magic we’ve bound in the table should do the rest. You must replace the shard to complete the binding and trap it inside!”
The short dalan pulled a hammer from his apron, the small shard of metal clutched protectively in his other hand. His smooth, child-like face pulled tight, his clear eyes expressing more apprehension and fear than the young dalan would probably care to admit. He backed away from the slab table, retreating to hide behind one of the four, matching stone constructs.
A gust blew through the clearing, the wind howling in his ears. Pera felt the spirit moving around them, its power remarkable. Aolin looked over to him, his green eyes burning wild with excitement and a touch of what he hoped was fear.
“It’s now or never, bròdir,” Aolin yelled, flashing him a half-smile.
Pera nodded, and together they slapped their hands on the whispering stones next to them. The four strange rock formations in the clearing instantly started to hum, the subtle cracks and etchings in the stones glowing with an intense, orange light. The rock grated and moved, shifting and coming back together, until the four formations resembled standing figures.
Pera pulled the short, finger-length knife from his robes and started to cut an intricate design into his palm. Dark blood bubbled out, fizzling at it met the air. Once the design was complete, Pera held his palm out towards the center of the clearing, where the guardian spirit circled.
“Shed the veil, spirit!” he shouted, the glyph on his extended hand igniting with a sudden red light. His energy rippled forth like mist, enveloping the invisible being.
The air rippled just as a flash of light split dusk’s gloom. The mist exploded outward, the spirit’s vague outline taking shape as it soaked in the sun’s setting rays. These rituals were always more powerful at dusk, the waning day pulling the thin membrane between worlds tight before the moon goddess appeared, her pure light washing the world in preparation for a new day.
Another flash of light rippled through the clearing, and the mighty spirit leapt free, now bound temporarily to the physical plane. Massive claws rent the grass, as the immense wolf lifted its head to smell the air. Easily the size of a house, the wolf was covered in glimmering, silver fur. The wolf took a single step forward, its majestic form inspiring even the wind to quiet for a moment.
Pera immediately felt the pull, the effort of manifesting the spirit taxing even for him.
“Mighty Valdyr, patron of hunters and guardian spirit of the forest,” Aolin cried out, praising the bound spirit. The wolf turned towards Aolin expectantly, lowering its head. The spirit growled a response, its eyes reflecting back the orange light as it waited for its offering. Pera swallowed down a pang of guilt. They’d called it to them on false pretenses, offering it tribute. Instead, they presented only deception.
The glyphs on the table surged suddenly brighter as the giant wolf approached Aolin, stepping closer to the slab table. The black blade started to vibrate, the metal dancing excitedly against the stone. Valdyr’s ears went rigid, the wolf’s fur suddenly rippled as if by a strong breeze. Pera knew better.
An angry snarl cut the still air, the wolf’s lips pulling back to reveal long, white fangs. Treachery. Pera felt Valdyr’s recognition. This wasn’t a simple beast. It was beyond them, most likely beyond time as he knew it. He almost fell back as the spirit wolf leapt suddenly, the whispering stones’ barrier flashing like lighting.
Valdyr rebounded, snarling angrily, only to leap at them again, its jaws snapping. The wolf hit the barrier, the whispering stone next to Pera rocking back with the force. Fragments of rock rattled loose and fell to the grass.
“Impossible!” he breathed. The stones were anchored to this world’s heart. They were indestructible. Pera looked to Aolin, the two Nym sharing a moment of fear and doubt. “It’s not going to work!”
Valdyr clawed the ground and leapt at the barrier again. This time the whispering stone closest to Pera cracked loudly. The etchings burned brightly for a heartbeat, and then went dark as the construct broke apart, nearly smashing Poe into the ground.
The wolf rebounded and fell back to circle the clearing, just as the barrier between the stones faded away. When Valdyr passed by the table, the glyphs burned brighter still, the magic gaining an even stronger hold on the spirit. Pera fell back, perfectly aware that there was now nothing standing between them and the spirit’s wrath. The wolf reared up and jumped, but fell short and crumbled to the ground, a trail of light connecting its body to the table.
“Doubter!” Aolin cried as the wolf howled, the magic of the table pulling it backwards, its claws digging deep furrows in the ground.
Pera watched as the enormous wolf slid towards the table, the small hole in the black blade quickly glowing in time with the glyphs. As it approached, the bunching muscle and fur of its hindquarters dissolved into mist before disappearing into the blade.
Valdyr clawed the ground desperately, scooping up the dirt and grass in huge piles. Finally, with a long, angry howl, the wolf slid fully into the blade.
“Poe, now!” Pera yelled, and motioned the dalan forward.
Poe ran out from the crumbled ruins of the whispering
stone, tripped in a rut as he approached the table, and disappeared into the shadows. Pera dashed forward.
Poe emerged next to the table, “My hammer, it’s–”
“Finish it!” Pera hissed, taking note of the dalan’s empty hands.
Poe ducked back into the shadows, scouring the ground, but dusk had given in to night, and the shadows were now fully drawn. Pera watched the black blade jump and rattle, shaking violently on the stone table.
No! It will break free. They wouldn’t just fail. They would die.
“Luminasta!” the Nym whispered, a searing ball of light appearing in his blood-covered hand.
“The glyphs are breaking down. Hurry!” Aolin yelled from next to the table.
Pera hovered over the ground, frantically searching, but Valdyr’s claws had ruined the ground, upending soil, grass, and stone in a jumbled mess of brown, green, and gray.
Pera grew frantic, the light leaving long shadows in the mess and not exposing a hammer. He stood and turned back, just as Aolin cried out. His friend threw his body over the table, trying to hold the sword down and keep the stone from breaking apart.
“Find the hammer, I will help Aolin!” Pera shouted to Poe and turned back towards the table. His foot landed on something hard. He shifted and looked down, just to find the hammer handle smashed into the dirt, the wood and metal almost indistinguishable.
Pera dug the hammer out of the dirt and ran. He lifted Poe from the ground and carried him over to the table, before fumbling the dirt-clumped hammer into his hand. Aolin’s body shook, the sword dancing beneath him as the angry spirit slowly reemerged. The glyphs glowed and flashed. Stone cracked and split.
“We will bolster the glyphs, you seal the blade!” Pera yelled.
Aolin slid from the table, letting the blade dance angrily, as they bracketed the stone with their bodies. Pera latched onto the stone, connecting to the energy of the glyphs. He funneled strength into the stone, willing them to hold and not break apart. The glyphs glowed brightly as the two Nym chanted together, Valdyr pulling back into the blade.
Poe grabbed the blade by the handle and turned it, his face hovering just over the metal as he tried to fit the shard into place. He fumbled it over and lengthwise before fitting it in correctly. He mumbled under his breath, a small ball of smith’s fire appearing, heating the blade.
“Hurry!” Aolin growled, one of the glyphs failing, a chunk of the stone slab breaking free and almost smashing his foot. Valdyr was far more powerful than they’d ever considered.
Poe swung his hammer down, smashing the red-hot shard into the rest of the blade. He screamed as he did, and slumped towards the ground. The sword kicked and bucked in his hand, the blade banging violently against the stone, chipping the surface away with every strike. Blood now covered the grip.
“Finish it!” Pera pleaded, the effort of maintaining the glyph’s magic taking every ounce of his considerable strength.
Poe pulled himself up, wincing as he drove the hammer down onto the shard. The dalan smith cried out, flinching in pain as he hammered over and over, sparks and smoke spilling off the blade with each subsequent strike. Pain contorted his face as he lifted the hammer high, and with a cry, brought it down on the glowing metal, finally fusing the missing shard into place.
The sword abruptly went still, the glyphs in the stone table going dark. Pera fell away, the termination of the magic so abrupt it nearly took his breath away. Aolin crawled to his knees on the other side of the table, smoke now rolling off the stone between them. He laughed nervously, but before he could speak, stone cracked loudly and the slab broke into two pieces. The wickedly curved blade teetered over the broken edge, the metal ringing quietly in the now quiet clearing.
“Poe?” Pera whispered, his voice harsh. The clearing felt preternaturally calm, like the forest mourned their actions with its silence.
Aolin helped Pera off the ground, the Nym conjuring a small light to hover over the stone table. Poe lay face down in the thick grass, a dark mist hovering just over his body.
Pera dispelled the mist and bent over the dalan’s small body, fearing him dead. He cupped his shoulder and rolled him over. Poe groaned and coughed, the noise harsher and raspier than before.
“Are you well?” Pera asked.
“Forge blasted sword felt like it were trying to eat me!” Poe said, before coughing again. It was a sharp, barking noise. “I felt its hunger, pulling on me through the blade. The hunter’s blade…the ravenous.”
The magical lantern floated over them then, the white light splashing on the small figure’s face. Poe shielded his eyes, but Aolin struggled to contain a scoff.
The dalan smith’s face, purposefully so soft and childlike, was now covered in dense, gray hair. No, not hair, Pera realized, but fur.
“You managed a godly feat, good Poe. You are lucky to be alive, if not…changed,” Pera said.
Poe nodded as they helped him up. His large clear eyes swept around the clearing, before locking back on Pera. “Changed.” His eyes grew larger, his hands springing up to his face. Aolin laughed as the dalan moaned, but Pera felt its hold on the memory breaking apart.
The Nym slowly drifted from the memory. It wanted to pull back in and live within that moment forever, only so it could stay near Aolin, the closest thing it ever had to a blood brother, and Poe, a child.
Floating amidst a sea of memories, Pera mastered the swell of grief. It would never see Aolin again and experience the rekindling of their bond, share mirth, or recount familiar stories. And Poe? Pera had felt nothing of the dalan upon rebirth. He too was gone. Pera was alone, hopelessly and agonizingly alone.
A spark ignited in the distance, a new connection forming between memories. Pera followed the new thread, latching on lazily, if only driven by curiosity. It watched people huddle together, chained, and a monster wearing human skin drag two of them away.
A skinsmith! Pera thought, experiencing a profound spike of fear. That would only mean Julian had found his way home. Or had he gotten himself captured? Pera suddenly felt the ignorant fool for leaving the man alone. What had happened to Julian since he dove headfirst into grief and despair?
Aolin and Poe were gone, but Julian and the woman he fought for were still alive. Ages ago, Pera and Aolin worked together to help the dalan overthrow his kind. It seemed a slight to his friend’s memory, and wasted sacrifice, to give in now.
Resolve replaced grief, and Pera pushed forth from the depths of memories. He moved towards the distant light, opening himself up to Julian’s thoughts and feelings, but also the other Nym, their chorus of voices so much stronger now.
Pera’s moment came to a sudden and painful halt. It hovered just beneath the light, the world, through Julian’s eyes and ears just out of reach. It tried to move forth again and slide back into his mind, but something blocked it.
Something had happened, and it felt very, very wrong.
* * * *
“To the library! To the library!” El’bryliz croaked, trying to lift his voice above the chaos, but it was no use. The building was coming down around them, and no one would listen.
Stone grated loudly, the ground shook, and somewhere behind him a timber splintered and broke. The wall next to them wavered visibly, an unfortunate acolyte ahead of them disappearing in a cloud of dust as part of the ceiling collapsed.
“Flog me simple,” Tristan cursed, falling against the opposite wall, smashing El’bryliz in the process.
“We have to…have to,” he stammered, but Tristan grunted and heaved him off of the ground.
“I know, get them to the library. But you can’t make a horse run from a burning barn if it wants to die in the flames,” the archer spat.
They crawled up and over the pile, El’bryliz fighting not to think about the young man’s body he just crawled over. Tristan was right. They could only save those that would listen, those that hadn’t lost their minds to fear.
They passed a barred window, the shutters cracking.
A spear burst through and forced them to the inside wall. They hurried around the corner, the passage to the sanctuary filled with dust and smoke.
A large form staggered and fell violently against the wall ahead of them, their terrified scream a mangled, wet noise. El’bryliz and Tristan stumbled forward another few steps, glass and wood breaking behind them, metal tearing free from stone.
“They’re in here. They’re in…” El’brylz stammered, fighting to control a stab of panic.
“Saying it doesn’t make it any less true,” Tristan grumbled and pulled him forward, but they both stopped as several large forms appeared from the sanctuary.
“Banner?” Tristan called out hopefully, but another form appeared, moving too low and fast in the haze to be a man.
“Flog…me…” El’bryliz started to curse as they hobbled to turn around, just as something hit them from behind.
They were standing, holding each other up one moment, and on the ground the next, a stinking, coiling mass of fur and claws between them.
“Gah! Get it!” Tristan screamed, the gnarl using El’bryliz’s body to kick off as it lunged at the archer.
Metal rattled against the ground as Tristan and the beast rolled away from him, the creature’s shrieks and screams stabbing into his heart like a blade made of the blackest fear.
“You poled, stinkin’…ahhh,” Tristan growled and cried out as the gnarl raked at him with its claws.
El’bryliz scooped a chunk of rock off the ground with his uninjured left hand and managed an awkward swing, striking the beast on the back. But he wasn’t left handed, and there was no power behind the strike.
The gnarl shrieked and snarled, turning on El’bryliz in a flash of claws and teeth. Tears and blood matted its eyes almost completely shut, but it lunged forward, claws tearing into what was left of his robe. El’bryliz threw the rock with a terrified shout, but missed badly. He stumbled, trying to sidestep as the creature lunged for his throat, but Tristan lurched onto its back and they both fell to the ground.