Reflections in the Void: Book Two of the Demon's Blade Saga

by Steven Drake

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”

  “He asked me not to. He knew he was about to be caught. He told me that he planned to tell you about the Demon Sword, about his plan, but wasn’t sure how you’d react. Suppose he didn’t want you coming after me if you… took it badly. If I’d only found that stone sooner, it might be him that got that sword.”

  “So, it was all Kirin’s idea, the sword, the starstone.”

  “He spent years figuring it all out. He planned it all right under the Demon King’s nose. In the end, it wasn’t even that plan that got him caught, it was his love for that woman. But, at least with her, he had some small measure of happiness before the end.”

  “So in the end, I was just the last, most desperate move in his game,” Darien said. The idea suddenly occurred to him that even in death, Kirin had manipulated him, and in some ways, was still manipulating him. “I always seem to be the piece everyone wants to control.”

  “Now, don’t take it like that,” Tobin objected. “Kirin regretted what he did to you, to your mother, more than anything else in his life. He tried to protect you as much as he could from the worst of the Order of the Shade. He taught you how to endure the pain without being consumed by it, how to detach yourself, just like he did. Before you, his plan to take the Demon Sword was just, well, the same as yours I suppose, a grand way to kill himself, but you gave him something to protect, something to care about. By the time you were a young man, he wanted to finish his plan so he could free you, and make sure there were never any more like you.”

  “Tobin…” Darien choked slightly and struggled to speak. He had never seen his old mentor show such feelings. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Well, I’ve been watching you with Jerris. The way you teach him, you remind me so much of Kirin. I had to break my promise, and tell you. Kirin would be proud of the man, well, half-elf that is, you’ve become.” Tobin smiled and sighed. “Ah, Kirin, poor whelp never had a chance, really. They got him young too, but he didn’t have anyone to protect him, teach him how to endure the pain. He was so broken, so hurt, worse than you are, though he did not carry so heavy a burden.”

  Kirin had been dead many years, and whatever he had done and thought, it shouldn’t matter now. Still, Darien found the idea that his teacher was proud of him somehow comforting, beyond all reason. Part of him wanted to smile, and part of him wanted to cry, but he did neither. He only straightened up, and composed himself, just as Kirin the Hollow Eyed had taught him, what seemed lifetimes ago. “Well, thank you for telling me, Tobin. I suppose it’s good to know the truth.”

  Silence reigned for several minutes, as both dwarf and half-elf reflected on a fallen friend. Darien ordered his own mug of ale, drank it swiftly, and ordered another. He rarely drank much, as he valued his self-control far too much to numb himself with alcohol, but if any occasion called for it, surely this one did. Darien allowed himself a few brief moments of relaxation, as he drank and talked with Tobin.

  He felt a new kinship with the old dwarf, an unexpected connection to a long dead friend. It was a small comfort, but those were often the only kind he had. He could overlook Kirin’s manipulations. After all, what else could the Hollow Eyed have done? Thanks to Kirin, Darien had learned the truth about his mother, and escaped a lifetime of mindless servitude. Tobin’s observation held. Darien had come much farther than any reasonable person could have hoped.

  They talk and drank well into the evening. Tobin grew impaired after several mugs of ale, while Darien barely noticed. He wondered to himself whether the changes brought on by the Demon’s Blade dulled the impact of the alcohol. The presence of the sword had repelled the flies in Bladereed Marsh as well. What other effects might it have?

  Finally, near midnight, Tobin grew too tired, and decided to end the evening. He muttered something about staying up drinking all night during his youth, and staggered out of the common room. After helping the old dwarf to his room, Darien retired himself. To his surprise, he found Jerris still awake, staring out an open window.

  “Still awake?” Darien asked

  “Yes,” Jerris turned only for a moment, then sighed and turned back to the window. “Do you know what Ceres told me today?”

  “I have an idea,” Darien sighed. “She’s not wrong you know. You should understand the hatreds that exist between elves and men. I cannot imagine the people of Kadanar would accept a human queen. Did you stop to consider that?”

  “You agree with her then?” Jerris said with obvious frustration. He thumped his fist on the window sill, and continued to stare out. “Just because you can’t feel anything, it doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t. Just because you’ve never been in love doesn’t mean it isn’t real. You can’t just decide something isn’t there because it isn’t convenient for you,” Jerris fired back. This wasn’t the first time Jerris had insulted him, far from it, but this one hurt. It stung, as he remembered the dream that had been keeping him awake, that painful memory of a love that was, in the end, nothing but a trap devised to teach a lesson. It stung because it was true. It stung because he didn’t understand that kind of love, and never would. The only love that would ever be real to him was his mother’s. She had died for him, and surely if anything meant love, it was that. No one could ever compare to her. No one could ever replace her, and the hole that she had left could never be filled. A long and awkward silence passed between the two half-elves. Neither spoke.

  After a few painful seconds, Jerris turned, with wide eyes and an open mouth. The younger half-elf realized he’d gone too far, and actually hurt the untouchable Shade’s feelings, if in the smallest way. “I’m… I’m really sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t really mean that. I was just angry.”

  “It’s alright, Jerris.” Darien said as he sat down in a wooden rocking chair. “You’re not wrong. I really don’t understand. I can’t help you in this matter, I’m afraid. I wish I could tell you that Ceres is wrong, but she isn’t. Being a king comes with responsibilities and expectations. You’ll be answerable to your nobility, and your people. Ultimately, their opinion will have a tremendous impact on what you do, how you act, what you say, who you associate with, and, yes, who you love, at least in public.”

  “Why does it have to be so complicated?” Jerris complained. “I used to think that it was only men who were like this, hating us and cursing us because we’re different, but now that I’ve been with the elves, I see that it’s just as bad from the other side. Why do people have to raise these barriers between each other?”

  “A question I’ve asked myself many times,” the Shade answered calmly. “I have no answer. I hate it as much as you do. That’s part of the reason I became a Shade. In the Order of the Shade, there are no family names, there is no accumulation of great wealth, there is no nobility. Shades are judged only by their abilities and their loyalty to the Master. Nothing else makes any difference. The idea of a world where wealth, blood, and birthright didn’t matter was appealing to me, even if it meant destroying anyone who opposed us.”

  “So, do you still believe in those things?”

  “I suppose I gave up on that world when I found out that the Demon King really was,” Darien shook his head and leaned back, rocking slightly in the chair. “He didn’t believe in his own principles. He doesn’t believe in anything. He only used those words to build an army whose anger and resentment at the world gave it the power to do the most horrible things imaginable.” As he rocked slowly, Darien regarded his young pupil. The lad seemed upset, but nevertheless attentive. He could understand now what Tobin had meant. He could not recall anything specific, but somehow, he knew that Kirin had regarded him as he regarded Jerris now, giving a stern lecture about the harshness of the world, and wishing he could afford to simply repeat those pleasant lies most people taught their children. He smiled, and continued, “You see, Jerris, that’s what makes the Shades so powerful. That’s what you saw when I fought Geoffray. I wasn’t just fighting a man.
I was fighting everything that he represented, everything that I hated about the world.”

  “I’m sorry, I…” Jerris stammered, “I know you’re just trying to help, but, there’s something about her, I just, feel drawn to her, like I never have anyone else.”

  “That infatuation will pass, Jerris.”

  “But what if it doesn’t?” Jerris asked, not hiding the trepidation in his voice. “I mean, Ceres told me elves only fall in love once. What if she’s the one, and then I have to live for centuries knowing I can’t have her.”

  “You don’t have to become king, you know,” Darien curled his lips into a sly grin, and clasped his hands together deviously. I have no more regard for the traditions and practices of the elves than anyone else, he thought. What is it to me if Jerris runs off with this young woman? “The elves have gotten along well enough without a king up until now. If the two of you wanted, you could run away, settle in some far-off land, or just wander. Do you think Ceres would chase you and lead you back in chains to rule as a king in prison? It’s absurd.”

  “So, you’d let me do that?” the boy looked up.

  “Jerris, if that is your choice, I would help you do that,” Darien replied. “Why should I care about the fate of people who couldn’t be bothered to leave their hiding place even to save my mother? And honestly, you don’t need my help or consent. Over this past year, you’ve learned more than just magic. You showed me that much when you charmed Ceres, and intervened on my behalf.” Darien smiled and nodded, and Jerris returned a smile. “You’re not the weak, hapless child I met. You have your own ideas, your own mind, and your own power. So much like myself, and like Kirin before me, you have the will to make your own choices, to follow your own path, not simply the ones that others set out for you. I didn’t really intend to make you like I am, but somehow it happened all the same.”

  “Thanks… I think.” Jerris rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “And…I’m sorry about what I said.”

  “Don’t be. You were right to say it, even if you were angry. Just be careful. Things aren’t always what they appear, and I don’t want to see you hurt. We still know very little about this woman. I can’t help being suspicious of her presence, given what the Grandmaster told me about her and her grandfather.”

  “You don’t really think she’s a spy, do you?” Jerris argued. “She’s friendly, open, and pure hearted.”

  “No Jerris. If she were working with the Shades, I would expect her to behave quite differently, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s all that she appears. If she’s really as naïve and harmless as she seems, then she’s probably very easy to manipulate. She could simply be acting on the Archmage’s orders, to use you to get to me. She’s been asking some very pointed questions so far.”

  Jerris shuddered. He seemed to be recalling something unpleasant. “Darien…” he hesitated.

  “What is it?”

  “She told me something… last night,” he continued. At that point, Jerris relayed most of his conversation with Niarie from the previous evening, most especially the fact that the girl was specifically assigned the task of gathering information about Darien. When it was over, Jerris leaned in, awaiting his teacher’s reaction.

  “I know.”

  “You already knew? How?”

  “Traiz told me. He’s been quite helpful so far. He has no magic, nor any combat ability to speak of, but he has a keen mind, and his information has been helpful.”

  “What do you think it means?” Jerris asked.

  “I don’t believe she is acting as a spy directly. She can’t be under a control spell unless her controller is one of the party. Too much time has passed since we left Trinium. The most likely possibility is that she has an enchantment of observation on her, much like Avirosa used with his beasts. It is difficult to place such enchantments on intelligent races, but not impossible. If that were the case, she wouldn’t realize it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Jerris, people generally can’t detect enchantments placed on them. When an enchantment is woven directly into a person, they generally lose consciousness, sometimes for days, weeks, even years depending on the power of the enchantment. The Black Council, for example, have had blood enchantments placed on them by the Demon King that increase their strength and give them abilities similar to the Demon King, himself. The enchantments become a permanent part of them. They don’t realize anything is different. Mages don’t have an accurate view of their own auras because they’re looking at them from the inside,” Darien explained.

  “Um… Darien…” The lad hung his head, and sighed in resignation. “If you… really want me to stay away from her, I will.”

  “Don’t do that Jerris,” Darien cautioned. “If you suddenly withdraw from her, and she is being observed, it may make the observer suspicious. It could put her, and all of us, in danger.”

  “So what should I do?” Jerris asked.

  “Nothing, I suppose,” Darien answered. “If she is being used without her knowledge, she’s in as much danger as anyone. Now that I know, I’ll be more observant. You should be as well.”

  “Um… yeah but what I really meant was you know, should I…” Jerris seemed to struggle for words. Darien found himself amused by the young half-elf’s consternation, guessing what he was thinking.

  “You mean should you continue to hold her hand tenderly and comfort her in the moonlight?” Darien poked at his student.

  “Well, yeah.” Jerris turned pink and shrugged sheepishly.

  “Just do what you think is right,” Darien answered. “You have good instincts. Use them.”

  “Alright…, well, good night then, and thanks, for being so honest and… well… for being you.”

  The Shade waved his hand rather dismissively, unsure what to make of such an aphoristic gratitude, and Jerris finally laid down in his bed. Darien rocked in the chair and dozed. He still did not really sleep. After this conversation, he feared the horrors of sleep far more than the greatest of his enemies.

  Chapter 27: What Lies Beneath

  For Rana Geruda, the duel with Geoffray Leonhardt had completely changed the character of the journey. Once again, she felt hopeful, not because she had won, but because of the way Darien had once again come to her defense. In every other way, the Shade remained as he always had, cold, distant, aloof. But in one moment, the obfuscating haze that surrounded the Shade had thinned enough for Rana to glimpse, for just the ghost of an instant, what lay beneath. Even days later, the exhilaration of that moment lingered and lifted her spirit.

  Embarrassingly enough, the afternoon that she had dislocated Geoffray’s shoulder had been one of the best of her life. No one had ever defended her quite the way Darien had, even Geoffray, whose approval had always been dependent on her ability to meet his expectations, in dress, in manner, in being an ‘honorable knight’. In the arenas, no one really acknowledged her talent, until she won, and even then, she won only a grudging respect. In the Golden Shield, it was almost worse. Her fellow students had been politer about their disrespect, but their disdain had been palpable. Most of them had been children of nobility, hoping to win honor for their families. She was nothing, nobody, a violent street urchin, pulled out of the gutter by a high ranking knight who had taken her out of miserable poverty, and then taken her to bed.[DJ1] They had always been jealous of her talent, and her relationship with Geoffray. With Darien, it was different. Darien appreciated her skill and gave no heed to her background, or appearance.

  Two days had passed in Coldwater, and still no guide had been found. She had done her part to help, but at that point, they had exhausted all the leads that they had. The only question now was how long to wait. There were rumors of more experienced guides who passed through town regularly, but had no regular residence, and some talk of merchants who journeyed across the desert further on in the summer to deal in exotic goods with the dragon tribes.

  It would be Darien’s decision. He had been given aut
hority, and had so far been willing to wait. An unsurprising circumstance as patience seemed to be one of his defining traits. At the moment, Darien was in his room. Jerris was outside practicing, and Rana nervously paced back and forth, contemplating the perfect opportunity to speak to Darien alone. I just want to thank him for the other day, she repeated to herself. I don’t have to say anything else. I can just tell him how I appreciate it, and leave. Oh, but I want so much more. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. Oh, by the Goddess Amare, how did this happen? I’ve given up my vengeance, but somehow, I’m still chasing after him.

  Rana envied Jerris’ relationship with the Shade. She wanted Darien to be open with her, to confide in her. She wanted to ease the pain she could see in his eyes, and help him carry the burden upon his shoulders, but he always shut her out. As her feelings grew, she found them increasingly difficult to contain. Unwanted stray thoughts kept drifting through her mind, thoughts of the tall, dark Shade suddenly opening up to her, confessing his inner thoughts, and then taking her into his arms for his own comfort. She tried to stop herself, but each time, the fantasy went a little farther, and she began to lose herself in visions of lying against his chest, running her fingers through his messy hair, and the moment when their lips finally met.

  With Geoffray, it had been different. It seemed so long ago now, and it seemed, looking back, that she had been so much younger then. Geoffray had been her superior, her commander. She held him in such awe, and then, when she finally opened her heart to him, told him what happened to her family, and expressed her desire for vengeance upon the Executioner, Geoffray had dried her tears, and spoken words of comfort. The hard exterior softened, and he turned from knight and commander to friend, and then lover. She had spent that night in his bed, the first time she had ever lain with a man. She had not expected it. It just happened, and then it was suddenly real. She sought the pleasures and comforts of his bed many times after, and at the time, she had thought she loved him. Now, looking back, she was no longer sure.