Dayn caught the barest hint of movement behind the veil, and felt the Lord Ascendant's eyes upon him, like knives searching for space between his ribs. Not knowing what else to do, Dayn bowed slightly. “Lord Ascendant, I―”
“My time here is short, young Shardian. Step forward.”
He complied with new nervousness in his heart. The woman's every word sounded like an iron mallet covered in the barest film of silk. Dayn heard metal scrape harshly against the Veiled Throne as she leaned back, resting a shadowy jaw in her hand while she examined him. The Veiled Throne could not be very comfortable, especially wearing armor.
“You claim to have seen darklurkers with your own eyes,” she said. “Do you know there are Ringmen who have served an entire lifetime without such reports? The most hardened Defenders, in their hundredth naming day. Thar'Kuri are all but forgotten in the Belt, save fables to frighten spoiled children into their beds at night. My Force General tells me you shun Shard's customs, and now cry 'voidwalker' to cover up your lies. I would expect more from a Shardian. From a covenant keeper.”
“That’s what he told you?” Dayn bristled as he glanced at Nassir. The Ringman faced forward, imperious as a wall of stone. Disdain leached from the other Defenders as their eyes considered Dayn.
The Lord Ascendant leaned forward, challenge in her voice. “Is it true? Are you a silly village brat up past his bedtime?”
Dayn opened his mouth to retort, but stopped when the Lord Ascendant leaned in even closer. She means to anger me, Dayn realized. Calling me a liar. Why?
“Well?”
“Speak up, farmboy,” Nassir growled.
I represent Shard now, Dayn told himself. Whatever she wants, I’m no village lout. He took a deep breath, choosing careful words.
“I didn’t know what to call them, until Preceptor Lurec told me,” Dayn said. “They were gray-skinned men who could breathe underwater. They ran through redbranch faster than I could on an open road.” The throne room grew deathly silent. Every eye bored into him. “When they chased us last night, my mind felt split open by them, somehow. It felt like they pulled every vile thought I could imagine from my head all at once. It...it made my insides feel like they were rotting away.” Dayn shuddered at the memory. Of all the ordeals since his encounter at the well, First Mist held the most terror by far. He spoke confidently, though, knowing he told the truth. “I'll leave you to tell me if they were voidwalkers or not.”
His words had a remarkable effect on the Defenders. They whispered among each other, looking at Dayn as though seeing him for the first time. All except one, a woman who stared at him with open malice. Silver feathers were worked into her braids, and a tattoo on her right temple reminded Dayn of a talon. Silence returned once the Lord Ascendant raised a gauntleted hand.
“I believe your words,” she said, standing from the throne. Dayn's neck craned back. Not only did the throne rise several feet above the surrounding marble, but the Lord Ascendant proved to be the tallest woman Dayn had ever seen. She descended a few steps, but remained behind the blue veil. Her voice echoed forcefully through the chamber. “You’ve done an immeasurable service to the Ring, and the World Belt. Will you continue serving Shard faithfully?”
“Peace, yes!” Dayn said in a rush. “I’ll return to the harvest as soon as you let me go.”
“He wishes to return home, Force Lord―as I said he would,” Nassir put in. The Lord Ascendant ignored him as she addressed Dayn.
“The Ring exists to protect the World Belt. This is known from Montollos to Ista Cham. Right now the Belt is fractured, when the people need to be as one. Rumors of raiders from the Eadrinn Gohr abound in the torrent. Worldhearts grow weaker every year. The Regents of Montollos sow discord against the Ring, scheming to rule the Belt as though they were kings, and their influence spreads.” Scornful muttering rippled throughout the Defenders as she continued.
“Defenders are seen as relics from another age, while Preceptors have become so lost in their studies, the Belt no longer misses their absence. Our Consorts still oversee commerce, but they are trusted grudgingly, within the Ring and without. You have seen our halls, but most of the doors you have passed lead to empty rooms. Few hear the call to serve the World Belt. The Ring is not as it once was, and Thar’Kuri strength grows. Their warriors are stronger, fearless. We once hunted the darklurkers, but now it seems that they hunt us. Their attack on your world proves what we all fear most, that they are capable of destroying the Belt.” The Defenders' sullen silence told the truth of her words.
Though the Lord Ascendant’s face remained hidden, Dayn felt her eyes testing him, like a blacksmith searching out imperfections in a new tool. He almost believed a smile played on her lips. “Now a Shardian, keeper of the oldest covenant in all the worlds...that is a new voice, and unexpected. One the worlds will heed. There is a saying among our Consorts. ‘As Shard goes, so the Belt follows.’ Do you know this?”
“I’d never really thought about it before,” Dayn admitted. “But if Shard were lost, the worlds that receive her Pledge would all starve.”
“It’s more than that. Shard is first among her sisters, the largest and strongest. Her people, your people, are the oldest in all the Belt. When the worlds learn of this attack, and the plight they face, the Belt will unite once more and throw them back, with the Ring’s guidance. I am certain of this. The threat of Thar'Kur must be known among the people, high or common. Do you believe this, Dayn Ro'Halan?”
“I'll tell everyone I know about them when I go back to Greenshadow, and my village, too. Even Misthaven, if you want.”
The Lord Ascendant stiffened. “You misunderstand me. I want you to tell the World Belt about the night of Shard's attack in your own words, so the Beltbound are prepared for the days ahead. That is what I ask.”
Dayn frowned. “You just want me to tell people what happened in Wia Wells?” It seemed simple enough. The gathered Defenders watched him silently. Nassir might as well be a statue for all the emotion he showed. She really believes my word alone will sway people from other worlds? Dayn thought doubtfully. Peace, I would never believe in a voidwalker if I hadn’t seen them for myself!
“As I said. In your own words, Shardian.”
Dayn’s thoughts touched hopefully on home. Staying on the Ring might not be so bad, and returning with her blessing would surely restore his family's honor. “If I do, will you tell the Elders at home how I helped you? And the Misthaven Elders, too?”
The Lord Ascendant nodded. “As I stand before the Veil, it will be done.”
Helping the Ring would look much better than spending a summer hiding with his aunts at Greenshadow. Dayn surprised himself with how quickly he decided. “I don't think people will come here from all over the World Belt to listen to me, but I'll do it.”
“Indeed.” Her voice was wry. “That’s why you will journey to them. You will speak with world leaders in their assemblies and fortresses and palaces. You will be seen by the people in their markets, taverns and streets. Make the Beltbound understand that Thar’Kur will destroy their worlds one by one if they do not act, just as they almost destroyed yours.” Dayn's jaw dropped. He felt sure the Lord Ascendant smiled this time. She reached for something at her waist. “I won’t ask you to spread a message of despair and fear. So I entrust you with hope, Shardian, which you have already borne so faithfully to the Ring.”
Dayn stared in dismay at the familiar orb in the Lord Ascendant's hand, glowing behind the veil and painting the room’s crystals a deep red. Will I ever be free of it? He was already beginning to loathe it.
“It is…unfortunate that Seedlore is lost upon Shard. Other worlds still dream of an age before the evil of Thar’Kur changed us forever. An age of peace like the World Belt has never seen. In our chronicles, a Seedbearer was highly spoken of, just like the ancient kings, world finders, and the most powerful dreamlacers. The World Belt must remember the Ring will always turn for the greater good of us all.”
T
he Lord Ascendant gestured to Lurec and Nassir. “These two will serve as both guide and guardian for you and what you carry. Our purpose was always meant for these two things, instruction and protection. The worlds must see the Ring in that light once more.”
“Force Lord, if I may,” Lurec piped up. “My presence is really not necessary for―”
“You may not, Master Lurec!” The Lord Ascendant's voice rang through the chamber. Dayn thought the Preceptor's eyes might pop from his head as she laid into him.
“A Preceptor will take part of this undertaking. Must take part. Your own Halls agree with me on this, though they bicker more than Consorts on everything else. It was their decision to choose you, not mine―I suspect because of your role in procuring the Seed. But heed me keenly, Preceptor. Choose to act on your own whim again, and Nassir will not be as forgiving.”
Lurec stiffened. “Yes, Lord Ascendant.”
“Young Shardian, you accept so quickly? You must have questions.”
“I still accept. Thank you, sister.”
Dayn immediately wished the words back. A heavy silence filled the room. Dayn groaned inwardly. People on some worlds―especially women―were insulted by the title of elder, so he picked the natural alternative by habit. Saying “Lord Ascendant” just felt odd in his mouth. She wasn’t his Lord, after all. Her face remained unreadable behind the veil.
“My family,” Dayn said quickly, hoping to press past his blunder. “I need to make sure they know of this. They’ll worry if I'm not to Greenshadow.”
“I’ve already dispatched a message to your village.” Nassir did not protest once over the Lord Ascendant's decision, but displeasure weighed heavily in his voice. At his new task, or Dayn’s misstep―Dayn could not tell. “They’ll be told of your whereabouts, and your purpose here. We’ll return before the Shardian harvest.”
“Preceptor,” The Lord Ascendant interjected. “Nassir knows the worlds you will journey to. Once your task is complete, you will deliver the Seed to Master Irwin Dosay on Panen. I'm sure you realize how important the Seed will be for the Ring's endeavors on that world.”
Lurec's eyes widened as far as they could go. “Yes, Lord Ascendant!”
Why is he suddenly so eager now? Dayn wondered. There were hardly any people on the world of Panen that Dayn knew of. The Lord Ascendant abruptly ended the audience before he could ask questions.
“There is nothing else then? Good.” She stood briskly. “You leave to Suralose at once. I’ve sanctioned the use of a transport for your entire journey. Nassir, you’re free to choose your navigators.”
“Yes, Force Lord.” Nassir bowed deeply.
“We know the price of failure should we fail to rouse the worlds. Thar’Kur will return us to the days of the Breach, or worse.” She raised her arms to include them all, holding the Seed like some strange and ancient scepter. “Peace protect you, Light of the Ring,” she intoned.
The Lord Ascendant stepped down from the dais. She tossed the Seed to Dayn, unceremoniously looping it beneath the hanging veil. He caught it automatically, surprised. A choking sound bubbled in Lurec's throat. Dayn could see her faintly now, standing so close to the veil. The Force Lord’s dark eyes shone with encouragement, her voice was hard as steel. “You are a Seedbearer now. Though we offer guidance, you do not serve the Ring. The entire World Belt hangs on your words. Be true in your task, Dayn Ro'Halan. Peace protect you, also...brother.”
Shock shone on every Defender’s face.
“Depart to serve!” the Lord Ascendant barked as she turned back to the Veiled Throne, an edge of amusement in her voice.
The Preceptor and Defenders all replied in unison. “We serve the worlds.”
“I serve my world,” Dayn added. The Ringmen all stared at him strangely, and he flushed. Their eyes seemed to accuse him of selfishness, as if he declared Shard more important than the rest. He would remember that in the future, even though he was no Defender. But it still sounded like the right thing to say.
Nassir planted himself in front of Dayn as the other Defenders filed out. Dayn opened his mouth to explain himself, but the Defender spoke first.
“The transport is already prepared. We meet in the transport bay by first bell. An attendant will be sent for you.” He abruptly strode out after the other Defenders, nearly trampling Lurec.
The Preceptor glared after him for a moment, then sighed and clapped his hand cheerfully on Dayn's back. Dayn could tell it took an effort for Lurec not to snatch the Seed from his hand as they left the throne room together. Another attendant met Dayn’s eyes and nodded silently.
“I’ll have to find someone to monitor my studies,” Lurec murmured. He called out to Nassir and the Defender turned impatiently. “Force General! When will we arrive to Suralose?”
“Midday, by their turn,” Nassir said gruffly. His eyes flickered back to Dayn. “Sleep, if you can. It is difficult to adjust to the turn of a new world.” He walked off once more, intent on catching up to his fellows.
“Is that all he's going to say?” Dayn muttered.
Nassir's voice floated down the hallway. “Dress warm.” Then he was gone, leaving Dayn and Lurec alone in the antechamber.
CHAPTER TWELVE
First World
The worst beasts of the torrent defy reason. They are born with iron hides, likely iron lungs, and barely resemble their Beltbound progenitors. I doubt they truly came from the same stock, before the Breach. Either that or the torrent has twisted them. Crater wolves with glowing red eyes and silver teeth hunt in the largest erratics. A ragehawk's beak can bite a Defender's armor in half.
-excerpt from Guardian Benlor’s Third Circuit
Dayn’s own room was half the size of Lurec’s study but just as full of curiosities. He insisted that the bleary-eyed attendant who escorted him demonstrate everything.
There was a crystal panel worked into the room’s stone that ‘remembered’ his touch and turned on lights hidden in the walls. The room also boasted a bath of green-glazed stone set in its own corner. The Ringman showed how it swirled steaming water in a tight circle from floor to ceiling, strong enough to all but do his scrubbing for him. Everything else about the room seemed dull after that wonder, a plainly sheeted bed and two shelves along the wall, all chiseled from the same dreary stone.
“That will wash your clothes as well, and we’ve provided more. Initiate blacks, I’m afraid, but it’s all we have on hand that could fit you.” The attendant pointed out the change of clothes, folded crisply alongside dark towels, then took his leave. Dayn eagerly peeled off his torn field linens and met his second surprise.
All of his bruises from the Dreadfall were gone. Only a jagged arc of pink scars stood out on the brown skin of his shoulder and chest from the wreathweaver’s bite. The scrapes and cuts he had suffered in the redbranch were all vanished as well, when there should at least be scabs.
He could not stop staring at his scars as he washed, and wondered if they would fade away before his eyes. Dayn decided against telling Lurec. Somehow the Seed had clearly healed him, but he did not want to be locked away with tadpoles and minnows for some study.
After touching the wall for darkness, Dayn suspected he slept less than an hour before another attendant was at his door. He chose to wear clothes from home, two shirts and a fleece-lined brown overcoat. Along with his lucky red cloak, of course. The crusted mud on his boots had not yet dried, but he had no time to clean them, and they were the only ones he owned. He put his coursing gear and gems into one pack along with the Seed. He took up his staff, and left the Initiate blacks where they lay.
Dayn whisked off down the Ring’s halls after the attendant, receiving more curious stares than a ridgecat shaved bald. He boarded a transport that already held his waiting Ringman protectors. A nod from Lurec and a grunt from Nassir, and they lifted off.
“First time to Suralose, Shardian?” The navigator Samli called over his shoulder from the vapor array of the transport, after an hour or so of
silence.
“First time anywhere.” Dayn eagerly piped up. Outside of checking Dayn's pack, Nassir acted as though he did not exist. Lurec murmured a few encouraging words after the transport lifted, but had since lapsed into his own thoughts. He frowned now as though he could not get an unpleasant taste from his mouth.
Neither Ringman shared words even now, and their foul mood grew faster than tripthorn vines. Dayn could not decide what irked the Ringmen more, the Lord Ascendant's command or their mutual dislike for each other.
The navigators, Samli and Cedrek, looked at each other sagely. “You sure you brought enough clothes?”
“Peace, I hope so.”
“Hope won’t keep you warm for long,” Samli observed.
“Nor will peace, lad,” Cedrek added.
Dayn sneaked a look at his Ringmen protectors. Lurec wore a thick overcoat, sporting a hood that enveloped his face in a ring of gray and white fur. From the little Dayn could see of him, it made the man sweat profusely.
Nassir's armor looked unchanged, but upon closer examination, he saw black sleeves poking out beneath the metal cuffs. Dayn felt less embarrassed about his own extra clothing. A Defender's ebon mask rested on Nassir's chest, with a wicked brow over angular eyeslits that promised violence. Intricate symbols that Dayn could not decipher were etched in straight lines across the cheekbones and temples, and seven inch-long spikes made a row from chin to forehead. Almost improves his face, Dayn thought with a smirk.
Nassir's only effects consisted of a long, cumbersome pack strapped crosswise down his back. Dayn fell somewhere between the sparsity of the Defender and Lurec's ridiculous overcoat. The Preceptor had also brought enough metal trunks to fill a wagon, likely more of his tools to study the Seed between each world they visited.
“I think I'll manage just fine,” Dayn said.
“You might need an extra cloak,” Cedrek laughed. He looked out of place in the navigator’s chair, and could have easily passed for a Mistland farmer, aside from his short height and round belly. He wore a completely shaved head, except for an odd-looking tuft under his chin.
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