The Aether of Night

by Sanderson, Brandon

  “Suit yourself,” Rall Hannin said, smiling as Raeth kicked his horse into a gallop, several startled guards hurrying to catch up.

  The riders soon resolved into figures—one very large, the other very small. Raeth stopped his horse a short distance in front of them and leapt off, running the rest of the way as they dismounted as well. He wasn’t certain which one to hug first, so he just grabbed them both in a large embrace.

  Darro slapped him on the back with his arm, and D’Naa just held him tight, sniffling slightly.

  “Welcome,” Raeth said, trying to keep back the tears. “How was your trip?”

  “Horrible!” Darro snapped, finally letting go of the embrace. “Raeth, these horses just aren’t going to work out. They’re terrible beasts—there has to be a better way to travel. I mean, three months to travel the distance from the northern border to En Mahall? That’s ridiculous!”

  Raeth laughed, stepping back, arm still around D’Naa. “Well, unless you’ve found a way to resurrect some Vo-Dari, we don’t have much choice.”

  “Every one of them, then?” D’Naa asked quietly. “You’ve looked?”

  Raeth nodded. They were all gone. Every Vo-Dari and Night-Bond had immediately fallen dead the moment of Raeth’s cataclysm.

  “What about you?” Darro asked quietly. “Your…power.”

  “Gone,” Raeth said. “As far as I can tell, the only Bond I have left is my Amberite—pathetic as ever.” He left the rest unsaid. He should have been dead too. He didn’t know why he wasn’t—something that Makkal had done in that last moment, before the explosion, had ripped the Night from Raeth before it could kill him. Then, Makkal had Sent him to En Mahall.

  The other two, however, had been stuck. D’Naa in Kavir, Darro on the Northern Border. Raeth smiled. “How is the Northern Border this time of year?” he asked, chuckling.

  Darro snorted. “Cold.”

  “I thought you were dead, Darro,” Raeth confided, growing solemn. “When that Vo-Dari Sent you… .”

  Darro shrugged. “I recognized him—one of the Vo-Dari that always worked with the War Counsel. Must have Sent me to the first place he thought of. I’d almost rather he’d sent me a hundred feet in the air—do you realize how far I had to walk before I ran into people?”

  “He’s been grumbling the entire way,” D’Naa said with a fond smile. Their two teams had met up just outside of Vae Annitor—or, at least, what was left of it.

  “You visited the city?” Raeth asked.

  “You mean the pit?” Darro asked. “There isn’t even a cobblestone left.”

  “That’s what I hear,” Raeth said. He’d wanted to visit and see for himself, but…well, a two month round trip was a bit much to stomach just to go look at a pit.

  “Come on,” Raeth said, gesturing for them to get back on their horses. “You need to visit the new Senate chambers.”

  #

  There was something wrong. Perhaps it was women’s intuition, or perhaps it was just her own foolishness, but D’Naa sensed something from Raeth. He was happy to see her, he wasn’t making that up, but there was a reservation to his actions. He was holding himself back.

  Has he found someone else? She wondered with a stab of worry as they remounted and began to move toward the city. Darro began to chat amiably as was his way—sometimes it was difficult to get the large man to be quiet. Raeth rode along in between their two horses, nodding to Darro’s remarks. His eyes, however, betrayed a hint of trouble.

  He turned, catching her eye, and she knew for certain she was right. “What?” she mouthed. Raeth immediately looked guilty and turned his eyes forward again.

  “What?” D’Naa asked louder, her impatience for diplomacy showing again. Darro paused in his narrative of their trek, turning with confused eyes.

  Raeth sighed. “We have a…problem.”

  “What?” Darro demanded.

  “I can’t choose you, D’Naa,” Raeth said, his eyes growing sad. “I can’t choose anyone. I have to give up the Throne.”

  D’Naa exhaled softly. She’d been expecting something like this, though that didn’t lessen the blow.

  Darro rolled his eyes. “Not this again?” he asked with a sigh.

  “I can’t think of any other way,” Raeth said, speaking lowly so the servants and guards couldn’t hear him. “Darro, Nahan is going to be stoned if I don’t choose her, and Tae still claims she’s going turn herself into a Corpate if I do choose Nahan.”

  “So? Who cares if she becomes a lantern?”

  “That still leaves me marrying Nahan,” Raeth said, not looking at D’Naa. “And, if I do that, Alean will just reveal who I am anyway.”

  Darro frowned. “New city, same politics, eh?”

  “I’ve looked into Mahallen law,” Raeth said, looking down. “If I tell everyone that I’m not Hern, then Nahan will be released from having to marry me, since she would have ‘seduced’ me under false pretenses. Alean won’t have anything to blackmail me with, and Tea won’t have to become a Corpate. In addition, the Khur might actually accept my abdication as reparation for my ‘sullying’ of their bride. We can’t afford to fight them right now—we don’t have the military anymore. Revealing myself fixes everything.”

  “Well, that’s fine, isn’t it?” D’Naa asked slowly. “I mean, you won’t be emperor, but you can still…choose a bride, right?”

  Raeth continued looking down, but Darro met D’Naa’s eyes. “He’ll be executed,” the large man said quietly. “Emperor or no, savior of the Imperium or no, the law is explicit. Duty and Line are everything to the Aedin, and he will have lied about both. They wouldn’t be able to let him off.”

  “I wouldn’t let them,” Raeth whispered. “I am guilty of the sin whether anyone knows or not.”

  #

  So it was that Raeth came to stand before the Senate one last time. The senate building Rall Hannin had given them was wonderful, all things considered. It didn’t have the three tiers, but it did have comfortable seats for all the senators and a podium for the speaker. It was constructed of tan Mahallen bricks and white stone, with a dozen broad open doorways to provide a breeze.

  The vacancies in the Senate ranks had been replaced, but everyone knew that Amberite and Bestarin were at a severe political disadvantage. Raeth looked through their ranks, noting all of the youthful faces. The new Senators took their duties seriously, but they had no seniority. Part of the reason Raeth had waited so long to abdicate was because he’d wanted to give them time to get on their feet before he made Laene emperor.

  It was difficult to do. He’d put off this day for three months now, always coming up with excuses. In a way, he felt like he was giving Agaris the victory he had sought. Raeth was turning the Imperium over to Verdant. Yet, it was the only way.

  The brides sat at the front. Tea, proper as ever in her high-necked dress despite the heat. Alean, regarding him with warning eyes that were a little red and tired. A late night? Kallana, uncertain of herself, her round face nervous. Nahan, dressed far more conservatively than she once had. She’d come to him several times, trying to get him to promise not to choose her, and they’d ended up talking. It was a shame—she was actually a very clever woman, a fit daughter to Rall Hannin. Hopefully once he abdicated she would be able to find herself a suitable match. Finally, at the end of the line, sat D’Naa.

  Darro stood at Raeth’s side. Had things been a little different, Raeth would have chosen a bride for himself, then one for Darro. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t happen. Darro would still end up married, though it would probably fall on Laene to do the choosing, since Darro himself had been effectively disinherited by the Senate.

  “They’re waiting, my lord,” Tarrinon said quietly. Raeth turned his eyes down, smiling at the short scribe. The steward had been invaluable these last few months as they’d tried to rebuild the Imperium. They would have failed without Tarrinon and Rall Hannin. Raeth turned, seeking out the Mahallen king in the audience. He could have probably seized pow
er for himself at any time—they were guests in his kingdom. Yet, he hadn’t even tried.

  “Yes,” Raeth said, standing up straight, taking a deep breath. “My Senators, Lords, and Ladies. I’m afraid I have something I must—”

  “Wait,” Darro said loudly, stepping forward.

  Raeth paused, frowning. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

  “Before my brother makes his choice,” Darro said, “I’m afraid I have something I must confess.”

  “Darro… .” Raeth warned.

  Darro ignored him, reaching beneath his cloak to retrieve something metallic and sparkly. He whipped out a pair of gem-encrusted, golden hoops and held them aloft.

  “Darro!” Raeth said quietly. “You’ve only been in town one day! How did you get a pair of breast hoops already!”

  Darro snorted quietly. “It’s not what you think,” he said as the crowd of Senators began to whisper with one another. “I got them from Tarrinon.”

  “Tarrinon?” Raeth asked incredulously.

  The scribe blushed deeply. “I had them made, my lord,” he said quickly. “I didn’t get them from the…regular way. King Rall Hannin gave us the specifics.”

  Raeth turned again, regarding the Mahallen King, finally realizing what was going on. The distinguished man just shrugged, smiling slightly, as if to say ‘What, you really believed I’d let my daughter get stoned?’

  “I can hide it no longer!” Darro proclaimed. “I’ve already had relations with one of the brides. She came to my rooms in the dark, thinking they were my brother’s. She never knew that she had seduced the wrong man.” He shot a slightly nervous look at Nahan.

  The Mahallen girl sat for a moment, her eyes a little shocked.

  Darro gave a little ‘hey, it’s better than being stoned’ shrug.

  Nahan, apparently, agreed. She stood with mock indignance. “By Kamman!” she announced to the crowd. “I can’t believe it! No wonder the Emperor seemed so hesitant! He thought I was lying, but it was I that was deceived! Prince Darro, I demand you rectify this immediately! By Mahallen law, you are my husband!”

  “No one is going to buy this,” Raeth said quietly, regarding the skeptical Senators.

  “They don’t have to,” Tarrinon said. “As long as the law is satisfied, and no one gets stoned, our purpose will be served.”

  “I got you into trouble, Raeth,” Darro mumbled firmly, “I’m going to get you out of it. Besides, I’ve been thinking about it. I kind of think I’d like being married to a Mahallen woman—it could be fun. Better than the other options, that’s for certain.”

  Raeth sighed as the commotion settled down. “Thank you, Darro,” he said, “but that doesn’t solve the problem. I think I’d rather be executed than end up with Alean for the rest of my life.”

  Darro smiled. “Just wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Raeth asked apprehensively.

  “Stop this proceedings!” a voice yelled from the back of the room. A wave of heads turned to regard three tall figures standing in one of the arched doorways. The three men stalked down the aisle; all three were Mahallen with robes and head-dresses; all three looked very serious. They stopped at the front of the room, looking into the crowd.

  “There!” the lead Mahallen man said, pointing at Alean.

  “I concur,” the second man said. “That is the one.”

  “I saw it with my own eyes,” the third promised. “May I be drowned in the seas if I lie.”

  “What is this?” Laene asked, standing indignantly.

  “This woman is mine!” the lead Mahallen announced. “She seduced me last night. I have two valid witnesses who were on hand to watch the act in its fullness.”

  “What did you do?” Raeth asked quietly, mortified.

  Darro smiled broadly. “Got her drunk,” he whispered back. “Then introduced her to some of my new Mahallen friends. We had words and, well, let’s just say that Alean should probably pay a little more attention to local customs. He seemed kind of annoyed that she didn’t have any hoops, but was willing to make allowances for the daughter of the High Senator.”

  “Darro!” Raeth said with shock.

  Darro’s smile grew wicked. “I’ve got to tell you, these Mahallens know how to throw a party. They aren’t big on privacy, however. Definitely one of the strangest experiences of my life. Good thing I’m married now—a guy could get into a lot of trouble down here.”

  Alean looked horrified. Suddenly her reddened eyes made a little more sense.

  “I demand this woman,” the Mahallen said. “By our laws, we are already married! I have witnesses, remember!”

  “But—” Laene said, growing red-faced.

  Suddenly Alean stood. “This is a trick!” she announced. “That man is not Hern, he’s Raeth, the real emperor’s twin!”

  The room fell quiet. Raeth’s stomach fell.

  “My dear,” Rall Hannin said loudly, “that is simply absurd. True, there were rumors in the senate of that very fact, but they disappeared the moment Lord Hern joined in the war. Why, half the people in this room have seen him make an entire suit of Amberite armor. Everyone knows prince Raeth couldn’t manage such a feat. Really, Alean, you need to stay up on your gossip.”

  Darro smiled winking at Raeth. “Involving Rall Hannin was Tarrinon’s idea. He’s a crafty little Shank.”

  “I’m telling you that man is not Hern!” Alean wailed. “I’ve slept with Hern. I think I’d know him if he were standing before me!”

  If possible, the room grew even more quiet, Alean’s eyes widening as she realized what she’d just said.

  “My dear,” Rall Hannin asked drolly, “exactly how many people in this room have you slept with?”

  “I don’t care how many men claim her,” the Mahallen suitor said. “Unless Emperor Hern has two witnesses with the proper court credentials, then she’s still mine!”

  Laene plopped down in his chair, face pale.

  “Unless anyone has any objections. . . .” Rall Hannin said.

  “We are in En Mahall,” Arasisae, the statuesque Ferrous senator announced. “If this girl was foolish enough to let herself get into such trouble, she should have to pay the consequences.”

  Laene just nodded dumbly.

  The Mahallen man snapped his fingers, pointing at Alean, and his men rushed forward to pull the dumbfounded girl from her chair. The man turned and bowed neatly to Raeth, then led his procession out of the building.

  Darro was snickering audibly. However, for some reason, Raeth couldn’t bring himself to chastise his brother. The truth was, it was rather satisfying to see Alean get hauled away.

  “Are you quite finished?” he asked Darro.

  “Actually, not yet,” Darro said. “I have one more for you.”

  One of the new Bestarin Senators, a man who had been a soldier before the appointment, stood suddenly. He looked around the room, a bit apprehensive, then spoke loudly. “I wish to put a motion before the Senate!” he said. “It is in regards to the choosing. I suggest that we demand the Emperor choose the bride from Kavir! We all know the part the Kavir played in rescuing the Imperium during its most dire times. They deserve the privilege of marrying their daughter to the emperor.”

  “I agree!” said a new Amberite Senator—also an ex-soldier. “We also know that it’s been discovered that the Kavir, like High Aedin, can Bond Aethers! Yet, no Kavir bride has ever been married to an emperor. Can we afford to alienate them now that we know of their power? Our own forces have been diminished incredibly. Without the Kavir, we could very well fall to raids from the Harrmen or the Seaborn! We’ll need their Bonds to defend ourselves.”

  Raeth rolled his eyes. “Friends of yours?” he asked.

  Darro smiled self-satisfiedly. “I was quite surprised to find they’d been made senators. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

  “This must come to pass!” a new senator said, standing. Raeth blinked in surprise—it was one of the Khur Senators.

  “I
agree with the two Aedin Senators,” the Khur man said in his thick accent. “We all know the emperor disapproves of the Kavir woman. Let him choose her as punishment! It is his duty to what is best for the Imperium, not to sate his lusts.”

  “That was a surprise,” Darro admitted. “Guess the Khur decided that a non-Aedin bride was close enough.”

  “Very well,” Rall Hannin said. “I think this is a good idea. Shall we take an informal vote? Simply to provide a guide for our emperor, of course, since the choosing is solely in his hands? Who thinks he should choose the Kavir woman?”

  Over three fourths of the hands raised. In their eyes, Raeth could see something. An honesty, and an understanding. They didn’t believe most of what had been said herein. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised to find that they had known who he was all along.

  However, he saw something else. Loyalty. They didn’t care which name he went by. They wanted to follow him.

  Raeth stood, stupefied.

  A hand fell on his shoulder. “I’ve learned a lot from you about duty, Raeth,” Darro whispered. “It’s time you learned one thing from me. Duty to one’s people is good. Sometimes, however, duty to one’s self is more important.”

  The room fell quiet. Can I really do this? Raeth thought. Continue pretending to be someone I’m not? Continue the lie? Then he met D’Naa’s hopeful eyes.

  No, Raeth realized, that’s not it at all. That other me, that was the lie. This isn’t pretending. This is who I really am.

  “I choose D’Naa of the Kavir!” Raeth announced, smiling broadly.

  Epilogue

  Decay didn’t understand one thing. The Former had never been imprisoned. How could he be in prison when he was placed inside that which he had made, that which he loved, and that which he watched over? He was connected to the Aethers, and through the Aethers he was connected to the tapestry of the universe itself. This was no prison; it was what he would have done anyway.

  He was in the winds of the highlands, and they called him D’Lum. He was within the Aethers, connected to the spirits of the fallen, and with them he was the Ancestors. He was with the Mahallen philosophers, and they named him He who Watches but does not Intervene. He was in the waves of the sea, and the Seaborn called him Luk To Kanna. He was in the wild storms of the north, and the frightened Harrmen called on his protection, naming him Harashan. And he went to them all, comforting them, helping them, watching over them.