“Where’s my splinter?” Kheled snapped.
“It detected the possibility of corruption and returned to the whole for correction.”
Kheled had forgotten about that, but now that he considered his splinter’s decision, he decided it was a terrible one, a choice he’d have to fix.
“Send it back,” he commanded.
“That’s quite impossible. If Creation’s fears are correct and he’s been compromised, now might the only time to correct.”
“I don’t care.”
Kheled advanced on Purity, and the figure of light leaned away with distaste.
“Go back to the whole, and tell it to send my splinter back. You should make a convincing argument, Purity. Remember, you need me more than I need you.”
The seconds ticked by, and for a moment, Kheled was concerned he’d pushed too hard.
“As you say,” the figure of light stiffly said before popping away to be immediately replaced by a familiar visage.
Creation had corroded even further on his visit with the whole. He was half cracks now, and his entire form had shrunk, leaving the top of his head at Kheled’s waistline.
“What have you done?” he croaked, light streaming from split teeth when his lips parted.
“I’ve been selfish,” Kheled replied. “You can thank me later. For now, do whatever you must to heal.”
“The balance! The balance has slipped so far! Entropy is winning!” Creation proclaimed, frantically reaching for the healer.
“Hush now. Rest.”
Creation hesitantly nodded and popped. Kheled’s hands clenched, his thoughts racing. Perhaps he didn’t have as much time as he’d hoped.
“What was that?” Raimie quietly asked from behind.
On the opposite side of the trees shielding them from eavesdroppers, the army mobilized. Orders passed down the line, and the mass of soldiers marched.
“Our lesson’s on pause for now,” Kheled informed the scared and awe-filled youth. “I promise, we’ll resume this conversation at the next available opportunity. For now, let’s keep up with the rest.”
He merged into the rank and file. Worrying about his student would have to wait. If Creation was right and the balance had slipped still further, then he had bigger problems to claim his attention.
* * *
They approached Paft when the sun shone high overhead. Even before they came within sight of the village, evidence of its run down state was abundantly clear in the state of the fields leading up to it.
Weeds choked out much of the crops, and winter produce rotted off the vines. Dilapidated shacks dotted the path, their roofs bowing inward.
The closer to Paft they came, the better maintained the fields grew until orderly rows of green, leafy plants were tended to by harvesters in wide-brimmed hats. One saw the approaching band of armed men and women and ran off toward the low line of roofs in the distance.
The village itself had seen better days as well. Even from far away, holes in roof thatching and grass creeping over the main thoroughfare professed to Paft’s current difficulties.
A small welcoming party, consisting of one well-dressed man – the village Roten – and two terrified farmers wielding pitchforks, greeted them on the town’s outskirts. Kheled was too far back in the column to hear exactly what words were exchanged between Eledis and the Roten, but the conversation ended with cursing and shouting. Eledis placated the Roten enough to receive an invitation into the leader’s home.
Kheled bit his lip. That amount of hostility didn’t bode well for their chance to resupply.
“Khel!”
The healer nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpectedly loud shout nearby.
“Alouin, Raimie! Do you have to creep up on me like that?”
The young man innocently beamed up at him.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said coyly.
“Who says you did?”
Raimie’s look screamed incredulity, but he let Kheled off the hook, focusing instead on the ramshackle town before them.
“I know you said we’d continue this morning’s discussion soon, but I’m wondering if you have a set time in mind?”
“I said it would be soon. Isn’t that enough?”
“I was hoping for a more definite time frame,” Raimie murmured.
“Maybe the next time there aren’t so many ears to overhear…”
Raimie blanched, and Kheled immediately searched for the source of his discomfort.
In the direction of Paft, Eledis serenely led a limping Roten out of his home. The village leader held his arm at the wrong angle, and he stumbled when he stopped to deliver instructions to his petrified escorts.
“Can you fix him?” Raimie intently asked.
“I can begin the healing process,” Kheled uneasily answered.
“Good enough. Come with me.”
The human youth took off, and for an instant, the healer saw the adult Raimie would become in his righteous fury. He trailed after his student.
Raimie marched on the Roten and his retinue, completely ignoring his grandfather when he passed.
“…them whatever they require,” the Roten stiffly informed the two men guarding him as they came near.
“Without protest, Hilder?” one asked with disbelief. “How are we supposed to survive if they take what’s left?”
“We ask only for what you can spare,” Raimie smoothly intruded on the conversation as if he belonged. “In return, we’ll stay in your lovely town for a day to help with any tasks that need more hands in order to complete. I noticed the fields of ripened cabbage, cauliflower, and carrots as we approached. We could assist with the harvest.”
The Paftians seems stunned and suspicious.
“That is… most generous,” Hilder stammered.
“Wonderful! Let’s start with getting you medical attention, Roten,” Raimie gestured for Kheled to step forward. “My best healer. He’ll see you fixed up. In the meantime, maybe one of your men can show me where my men might best be used.”
He strode to the town center, the guards following him uncertainly. The Roten also tried to go after Raimie, but Kheled put a hand on his shoulder to hold him back.
“I need you to stay with me, sir,” he said, already reaching for splints and salves.
The Roten meekly allowed Kheled to lead him into the shade of the closest house. Once inside, he sat down heavily at the table.
“Who was that?” he asked. “That sense of authority he wields like a club reminds me of the last time I stood before the Queen.”
Kheled set his supplies on the table and began his assessment.
“Our leader is the rightful ruler of the Audish throne,” he replied distractedly.
“Audis? Never heard of it.”
Kheled paused in his ministrations. Sometimes he forgot how vast and full of ignorance the world was. Rather than provide an explanation, he finished his work in silence.
When he and the Roten emerged from their shelter, the small army had broken up into groups. Some clambered up and down ladders in order to repair roofs, and others followed their fearless leader into the fields. A sullen patch of mercenaries joined Eledis to watch the rest work.
Kheled made inquiries regarding the village’s sick and wounded, determined to do his part.
Hard at work, the day passed quickly, and soon, the setting sun halted labor. After camp was established in the town square and food was shared between the troops and the Paftians, Kheled and Raimie found an opportunity to isolate from the group.
Strolling the fields with the young man, Kheled half listened to Raimie’s excited chatter. The fields were stripped bare, speaking volumes to the enthusiasm of those who’d worked them that afternoon.
“Eledis is furious with me!” Raimie chattered happily. “I’ve never gotten the silent treatment from him before, but it’s worth it to see all these people’s stress relieved. Before we showed up, the Paftians were truly in desperate straits.”<
br />
“It’s good to feel as if you’re making a difference,” Kheled agreed.
He waited for his student to muster the courage to broach the subject thickening the air between them. It didn’t take long.
“Are we alone enough for a lesson?”
Kheled checked his surrounding out of habit, but no one had snuck up on them while he’d been distracted with Raimie’s ramblings. A conglomeration of people crowded the town square far behind them, and a handful of guards loitered on the field’s edges, picking their way carefully over the low to the ground plants. He wondered if Raimie had noticed his men constantly trailing him since they’d left the tear.
“I’ve shown you mine,” he said in answer to his student’s question. “I think it’s only fair if you show me yours.”
“Do I have to?” Raimie whined, making a face.
Kheled raised an eyebrow, and Raimie released an enormously exaggerated sigh.
“Fine. You two nuisances can come out.”
Two other Kheleds appeared beside his student, one in white and one in black. Upon noticing the healer, the white one stepped forward eagerly, and the one in black sprang away as if stung.
The two had cracks identical to Creation’s running all over their bodies, however, they appeared to be in much better shape than his own splinter with most breaks in their guise only thin slits compared to the large holes Creation had been afflicted with. The swell of shadows ebbing from the black one overshadowed the dim glow emanating from the one in white.
“This is Bright and Dim,” Raimie said as way of introduction.
“Thank the whole!” Bright exclaimed, well, brightly. “Maybe you can translate for us.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kheled cautioned.
“You understand them?” Raimie asked.
He seemed more than a little surprised.
“Of course I can,” Kheled narrowed his eyes at the young man. “You can’t?”
“Most of the time, they’re intelligible, but every so often, all I hear is hissing.”
“Is that why you haven’t explained yet?” the healer asked, turning to the one called Bright.
“That’s been one of many difficulties.”
“Hang on! Stop! Hold your horses!” the one called Dim barged into the middle of the conversation like a runaway cart. “After our last disastrous brawl, I reluctantly agreed not to fight with my adversary while in Raimie’s presence, and the next time the human asks for us, there’s an enemy primeancer ready to pounce. Is anyone going to acknowledge the difficult situation this puts me in?”
Kheled fought down a wave of revulsion. Instead of flinging Ele at the monstrosity as he desired, he raised his arms above his head disarmingly and spread his fingers apart.
“The only reason I’m here is to help Raimie understand what he’s been dragged into.”
Raimie hesitantly laid a hand on Dim’s shoulder. The splinter’s ethereal state prevented it from gaining purchase, but even hovering as it was, Dim seemed to draw a measure of comfort from his human. It backed off, mumbling complaints and curses as it went.
“Maybe we should start over,” Raimie suggested. “Let’s begin by saying that I’m furious with you two. Maybe you should stay on your best behavior if you don’t want to get banished?”
Bright and Dim each gave their own, distinctive agreements.
“Good enough,” Raimie continued. “In that case, I’d like to introduce my friend, Kheled.”
The assertion to friendship caught the healer off guard. Eight years surrounded by hostility had ingrained in him that he wasn’t worthy of that level of companionship from anyone. At one point, he may have had something similar to friendship with Ferin, but with her elevation to the Council, their closeness had gradually withered. On its last gasps, it limped along solely because of past experience.
He hadn’t realized how much he continued to think like the Kheled forced to stay in a hostile environment for survival and the continuation of his purpose. That man had been freed. It was time to acknowledge his self-worth again.
“You three are having communication problems, yes?” he asked gruffly, trying his best not the let the vulnerability show
“Raimie hears only the inconsequential from us, nothing of true worth, but we’re grateful for even that,” Bright confirmed. “At first, we couldn’t even assume a skin.”
“How awful for you,” Kheled sarcastically commented.
“It truly was!” Bright enthusiastically exclaimed.
The healer held back a laugh at its clear misunderstanding.
“I’d like to propose an experiment if I may. My splinter could help. I’d suggest bringing it into this discussion. Not to attack!” he hurriedly inserted before Dim could protest. “It’d only be long enough to determine if the communication failure is between you two and your human or between all splinters and Raimie.”
“Will you please explain what a splinter is?” the young man interrupted irritably.
“I’ll get to that! Do I have your consent?” Kheled asked Dim.
It hesitantly nodded, and the healer took a deep breath.
“Creation, you’re needed.”
“Yes?” a small, fragile voice asked.
If Kheled squinted hard enough, his splinter looked like it may have healed a little, but it was still an awful sight. Safely planted behind Raimie, Dim snickered behind the hand it had thrown over its mouth.
“Kheled,” Creation tiredly began, “are you aware that a piece of the enemy is here? Why aren’t you attacking it? Do you require my aid?”
He wearily set into an age-old fighting stance.
“No, we’re only talking right now.”
Creation threw the healer a disbelieving glare. Kheled could almost hear the splinter contemplating overruling the decision.
“Trust me, I know, but it’s Raimie’s splinter,” he said as way of explanation. “We shouldn’t mess with that balance yet.”
Creation reluctantly stood down.
“Why am I here?”
“I need you to explain where you’ve come from to my student.”
“You mean the whole?” Creation asked, confused. “What does he-”
“It’s buzzing,” Raimie interrupted, pointing to the splinter.
“Thank you, Creation. You can return to healing,” Kheled said dismissively.
The splinter raised an eyebrow.
“You’ll call for me if this turns sour?” it asked.
“Of course,” Kheled answered. “I’m not suicidal.”
After the expected pop, Raimie and the two other splinters were his only company.
“We don’t need them anymore,” he informed his student. “I’ll explain everything, except…
“Your names?”
They exchanged an uneasy glance.
“I’m Order,” Bright reluctantly answered.
“And I am Chaos,” Dim finished, “but honestly, we’ve grown fond of the nicknames Raimie’s given us. Our choice would be to keep them.”
Bright nodded solemnly.
This amount of coordination between opposing splinters was unprecedented as far as Kheled was aware. It bolstered his hopes that an end was in sight.
“You can leave now,” he told them. “Raimie’s in good hands.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Dim countered. “Why should I leave him alone with someone who’s clearly biased?”
“Who says you have a choice?” Raimie muttered impatiently. “Go away.”
The two popped, but not before Dim shot daggers at Kheled. The healer gratefully lowered his hands and rubbed his aching shoulders.
“Well?” Raimie asked, his left foot jittering in the dirt
“They are Order and Chaos, but they like the names you’ve chosen for them,” Kheled said, throwing his arms back and forth to loosen them. “I’d oblige them. It’s easier to work with your splinter if you have a somewhat amicable relationship with them.”
“
That’s not what I-” Raimie started.
“I know what you meant,” Kheled smiled at his student’s impatience. “Sit down.”
They arranged themselves cross-legged between the crops. Once they were comfortable, Kheled folded his hands in his lap and began.
“As I suspected, you’re indeed a thaumaturge, Ramie, but of a different type than what’s typically expected in our reality. The typical thaumaturge can only manipulate the magic that the Esela harness, that which was carried over when Alouin brought those of my race here through the Accession Tear. It’s been diluted in strength through the millennia, and usually, only those with a direct tie to the Esela bloodline can access that which originates from our homeland.
“But that doesn’t mean that all magic is tied specifically to my race. What a primeancer can do, what you can do, is much more ancient, more primal, than shape change or summoning, and it involves entities or forces that have existed since life itself began.
“In all worlds and lands, peoples and places; in every war or act of nature, two primal forces underlie everything you see and experience. Constantly in conflict, the forces’ entire purpose is to annihilate one another. They have many names: Creation and Entropy, Light and Dark, Purity and Corruption, Life and Death. Each of these concepts makes up a tiny part of the whole primal force, a splinter if you will.
“Throughout life, individuals choose a side in this unseen war through their actions, whether they be good or ill. Occasionally, some few people’s choices and actions become attractive enough to draw a splinter to them, allowing an agent of the concept represented to appear specifically to the new primeancer.”
Kheled stopped at the confused look on Raimie’s face.
“Let me give you an example. When I was small, I unconsciously aligned myself with the primal force associated with life and light, Ele. As I grew older, I grew fond of experimentation, and my joy especially came from creating something new. I attracted a splinter of Creation. Do you understand?”
“Yes…” Raimie slowly said. “I understand the theory. I’m a little confused as to why you’d ever make a choice.”
It was Kheled’s turn to display befuddlement.
“Hear me out before you say anything,” Raimie continued. “From the words used to describe them, I’d think these two forces balance each other out. One without the other to offset it would be devastating.
The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1) Page 28