Twist of the Fibers (The Lost Prophecy Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Expand?”

  Alriyn shrugged. “There has always been a place deeper within my mind that I have been able to reach. It’s there that the Mage abilities reside. All Magi learned to reach that portion of the mind, though some have an ability to reach deeper than others.”

  “When did you learn that you had this ability?” Alison asked, making a notation on the page.

  “I suppose it came when I was young. Both of my parents were Mageborn, and I was born and raised within the palace. I was tested like most within the palace are tested, and it was clear that I had the ability to reach deeper into my mind, an ability that was required for me to claim being Mageborn. If I hadn’t…”

  Alriyn caught himself. There was a certain reluctance to speak about what it was like for those unable to be born with Mage abilities. Many Mageborn parents had children without the gift. Those children often left the city, became Teachers, and served the Magi in other ways. Some even went to the university and studied with the scholars there. Even when they did, there was still a separation, a line of distinction between the Magi and the Teachers.

  “My parents aren’t Mageborn if that is your concern,” Alison said.

  Alriyn felt heat rising on his cheeks, but nodded. The more that he worked with Alison, the more he realized how sharp her mind was. This was a woman who was astute, who could observe much about the world around her. She had demonstrated that frequently. Alriyn couldn’t help but find that intriguing.

  “Yes, I suppose you would know that. There would be many at the university who had Mageborn parents.”

  “Not as many as you think. Most go on to become Teachers but never come to study at the university. There is a connection between those Teachers who come to learn from us, but it’s not quite the same. We understand, and we have always willingly offered to accept those descended from the Mageborn who do not have the gift.”

  “You offer to accept, but you don’t accept everyone.”

  “No. Even from those descended from the Magi, the university has standards that must be abided by.”

  Alriyn smiled. As far as he knew, the university was incredibly selective about who it allowed in. Often, they chose only one or two students per year. It was not unheard of for them to not select any students. Doing so created a sense of elitism and an arrogance in those who studied there.

  “Continue, if you will.”

  He chuckled before going on. “Yes. When I stretch open my mind, I can feel the presence of my Mage abilities. I can use that to reach the power that is in everything. A sort of life force that comprises all things. The Magi refer to it as manehlin.”

  “An interesting choice of terms, don’t you think?”

  Alriyn doubted that the term the Magi used for their power was widely known. Few outside of the Magi would have known.

  “I understand the ancient translation, if that’s what you’re asking,” Alriyn replied.

  “Of that, I’m quite certain. I suspect even the ancients knew the translation, and chose that term intentionally.”

  Manehlin. It was a word that carried much meaning in the ancient language. Alriyn knew the ancient language as well as any alive knew it, and had studied it nearly his entire life. He had embraced that scholarship, wanting to know and understand how the Magi of today were connected to those who had come before. Part of that understanding came from reading and comprehending what they had written about their experiences, in knowing what sorts of lives they had lived.

  “I’m sorry to have disrupted your process, Alriyn.”

  Alriyn smiled to himself. At some point over the last few days, she had transitioned from calling him Eldest and began calling him by his given name. Was that a measure of trust between them or was it a sign of comfort? Were they different?

  “Once I stretch my mind open, I’m able to press the manehlin into it. I can draw from the manehlin that fills the air. It surrounds every living thing. I can pull that energy, and I can manipulate it, using it.”

  “Only from other things? Do you not use your own energy?”

  “I do. Most Magi have learned to use their own manehlin, and are limited because of that.”

  “Most Magi? Are you proposing that you are somehow different?”

  Alriyn dipped his head in a slight nod. “Since the attack, something changed for me. I have always had power with manehlin, and have always been able to manipulate it as well as any Mage.” Though he had never been quite as potent as Jostephon. His old friend had been a powerful Mage and could reach for the manehlin in ways that few others could manage. “But I was forced to attempt something that few Magi have ever tried before to survive the attack.”

  She looked up from her notes. “Interesting. What did you do?”

  “I had to force that part of my mind open wider.”

  “Force? As if this is a physical thing?”

  Alriyn nodded. The effort of opening his mind had felt like a physical thing. It had left him weakened, and shaking with pain, his head splitting. Had he known about teralin then, he would have been able to use it.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t have.

  Alriyn wondered whether he was only able to use teralin in this way because he had attempted to force his mind open. Was that a requirement for him? Was that what was necessary for him to access the teralin and draw power from it?

  So many questions remained.

  “I was left weakened, though when I use my Mage ability, there is always an element of weakness that remains.”

  “Is it something you become accustomed to?”

  “Over time. It is akin to the Denraen, I suppose. The soldiers practice with the sword, growing increasingly competent and developing improved stamina that persists over time.”

  Alison glanced up from Lawern, the pencil in her hand paused above the notebook. “That’s an interesting analogy you’ve chosen,” she said.

  “Perhaps it’s the sword,” he said, holding it out.

  “May I?” Alison asked, reaching for the blade.

  Alriyn handed it to her, having no real commitment to it. It was a teralin-forged sword that Novan had found for him, but it didn’t necessarily belong to him. Not like Endric and his sword. He treated the great sword that he hung on the wall above his desk in his office as almost a part of himself.

  Alison traced her finger along the blade, noting the lettering in the ancient language. “I presume you read what is inscribed here?”

  Alriyn shook his head. “I’ve attempted to translate it, but the language is complicated.”

  “Perhaps not as complicated as it seems. Many of the ancients added a few extraneous letters. It was their way of adding to the musicality of the language. They are often spoken, but have no meaning when written.”

  Alriyn stared at her, mouth agape. He had thought his grasp of the ancient language was significant, but Alison spoke about it in ways that were almost an offhanded understanding. How much more did she know than he did about the language? How much more did others of the university know about the ancient language?

  Interesting that they had potential allies and scholarship as nearby as they did, yet the Magi had never taken advantage of their expertise in the way that they should. They could have asked the scholars to help them with different translations. Instead, they had kept them at bay, leaving their own effectiveness diminished.

  It was similar to the way they had interacted with other nations. They were potential allies, and together, they might have been able to prevent the growing threat of the Deshmahne.

  “What does it say?” Alriyn asked. Not for the first time, he had to push aside his belief that the Magi were superior. He had invited Alison to assist him with his studies, but had he truly believed that she could?

  “There is no easy translation. Often, the translations are inadequate. I suppose you are aware of that.”

  “Yes. That’s one of the struggles with the mahne. Many times, the translations that we have are not only inadequate, but they don�
��t quite fit with the general feel of the entire text.”

  “I agree. That is one of the more difficult challenges when it comes to translating the ancient language. Context becomes important, yet many of the younger scholars struggle to grasp that. Thankfully, we have nothing but time to study it. There are no new works written in the ancient language.”

  “How many different texts do you have that are written in that language?” Alriyn asked carefully.

  “We have hundreds of different works. Most are little more than fragments. We have tried to piece them together over time. We have acquired dozens of separate fragments for some of them, putting them together into a larger work that grants greater meaning. Most of them are simply records from that time, similar, I suspect, to your historian journals.”

  “It’s probably where they took the idea from,” Alriyn suggested.

  Alison smiled. “That would be my thought as well.”

  They fell into silence, neither of them speaking for long moments. After a while, Alriyn turned back to the sword, gripping the hilt, and pulling on the manehlin as he did, feeling the way it allowed him to shift his mind and draw more power than he otherwise would be capable of doing. Awareness surged through him, the same sort of awareness that he had felt each time he had attempted to pull through the sword, to draw on the manehlin using the teralin.

  Much like it did each time, Alriyn noted a swirling energy that surrounded him. It was an aura, and different from the manehlin. Surprisingly, he saw it around the sword, as well, and wondered whether it was because of his use of the manehlin, or whether that energy surged for a different reason. He looked up to Alison and his breath caught. Energy surrounded her as well.

  It was faint, but there was no denying that it was there.

  He hadn’t seen it before he had used the teralin sword.

  “What is it?” Alison asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Describe what you’re seeing,” she said.

  He hesitated before deciding to answer. “I told you that since I forced my mind open, things were different for me. I have a greater capacity to store the manehlin, but that capacity increases nearly tenfold when I draw through the sword.”

  “Is it the amount of power that you’re able to now manipulate that has alarmed you?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

  “It’s not the power. The Magi have always been able to see the manehlin, to use those small particles that create energy. But since the attacks, since I stretched my mind, I have seen something akin to energy around things as well. It surrounds those with power.”

  “I suppose you see it around yourself,” she said.

  “I do. But… I see it around you as well.”

  Alison blinked. “Are you accusing me of being a hidden Mage?”

  “No. I… I don’t understand what this is. When I attempted to see the energy around you before pulling through the sword, I wasn’t able to see anything. Now that I draw through the sword, now that I’m pulling on a different source of energy, it’s there. It’s clear for me to see.”

  Alison held her hands out, eyes narrowed as she studied them. “I don’t see it.”

  “I doubted that you would. You aren’t Mageborn, at least not that we know.” He added the last with a hint of a smile, but Alison didn’t seem amused by it.

  “We will have to evaluate what that means later. For now, I think you should focus on whether using the teralin in the sword can help you with your Mage.”

  “Of course. I was just—”

  “I have lived my entire life without any particular abilities, Alriyn. It does not upset me to have no additional power. In my case, my abilities are the fact that I can use my mind; that I can analyze and break down complicated problems. I would prefer that over any other ability, I think.”

  Alriyn smiled. This was a strong woman. Not only was she clever, not only was she bright and inquisitive, but she was at peace with the person she was and the person the gods made her to be.

  He dragged his attention away from her and to the sword, drawing through the teralin, pushing out his manehlin. As he did, he reached out with his aura, sending it toward Lawern.

  He had attempted this before when trying to heal Lawern. Alriyn’s ability with healing was not nearly as finely honed as some, though it was an ability he had practiced over the years to develop and improve the skill. When he pressed the manehlin through Lawern, he felt a sense of cold, and resistance where his manehlin met Lawern’s. In an otherwise healthy Mage, pressing manehlin into him would send a reverberation of energy, and would trigger something, allowing him to essentially heal himself. In Lawern, the manehlin continued to bleed out, drawn through the branding, stretching away from him.

  “It hasn’t changed anything.”

  “What have you done differently?” Alison asked.

  “Other than pulling power through the sword, I haven’t done anything differently.”

  “Try using the sword a different way,” Alison suggested.

  Alriyn frowned. What other way could he use the teralin? He could drive power through it, but there didn’t seem to be any way for him to use it.

  Somehow, the Deshmahne had used the teralin to create the brands. It was because of the branding that they were able to draw off Lawern’s power—as well as that of the other Magi they had attacked.

  Was there any way for him to do something similar?

  Alriyn touched the sword to Lawern’s ankle, pressing on the branding. As he did, he pushed through the sword, sending his manehlin through it, surging from the sword to the branding.

  There was resistance. He felt it as power met power. Rather than bleeding out as it had before, this was something else. This was an opposition.

  Alriyn continued to push. He needed to overwhelm this resistance. If he could, could he slow the power leaching from Lawern?

  He had to draw more manehlin.

  He pulled, drawing not only from himself, but reaching from Alison, drawing from the faint traces of power that surrounded her. Alriyn had never attempted something similar, but doing so felt right, and it seemed as if she gave of her power willingly.

  The resistance built, and Alriyn pushed back against it, using the manehlin from everything around him.

  In a flash, he overwhelmed the resistance.

  He stepped back, shifting the sword, moving it away from Lawern’s leg.

  “Did it work?” Alison asked.

  Alriyn reached his manehlin toward Lawern. “I think… I think it did.”

  And he couldn’t have done it without her help.

  She nodded and touched the brand on Lawern’s ankle. “It had been cold. Now it is no different from the rest of his skin.” She lowered her gaze to the sword. “Teralin seems to be the key, don’t you think?”

  Alriyn laughed, unable to help himself. Had Alison helped push him through the resistance? Had she even recognized what he’d done?

  “Did you feel that?”

  Alison arched her brow. “What?”

  He shook his head. She hadn’t noticed anything. “All these years, we’ve sat above the stores of teralin and haven’t known how to use it.”

  “Sometimes, it takes a different perspective. Sometimes, all it takes is a shift in your point of view.”

  Alriyn took a deep breath. “I think there is much the Magi can learn from those of the university.”

  “Is that an offer?”

  “I think I already made the offer.”

  “You did, but this seems to have a different weight to it.”

  Alriyn smiled. “I would love to study with you, Alison.”

  “I would like that. I think we could both learn from one another,” she said.

  Alriyn stared at the brand, feeling a hint of excitement. They had healed Lawern?

  He didn’t know whether it would reverse the effect, or whether it would call back the power that the Deshmahne stolen from him by branding him, but it was a start. There was much to learn, and
he felt they were at a disadvantage when it came to the Deshmahne. But working together, working with the university, he had hope that might change.

  Chapter Thirty

  Snowflakes fell from the sky, heavy and wet, and where they landed, they melted immediately, disappearing, as if they had never been there. Isandra stared at them, looking up at the gray sky, ignoring the chill around her. She tried to ignore her surroundings altogether, but it was growing increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that she was in an Antrilii city, a place that the scholars among the Magi had never known existed, and one whose people were fully aware of the world to the south and had chosen to remain separate from it.

  Yet not entirely.

  The Antrilii fought on behalf of those who lived in the south, and defended them from the groeliin. What they did was noble—a sacrifice. And she felt as if the Magi were the ones who owed the Antrilii something. The only problem was she didn’t know what that should be.

  She was at the edge of the city, having come here for solitude, and a moment of respite before another attempt to heal her was made, another attempt that would likely fail. The peaks of the mountains to the south were covered today by thick banks of clouds. A familiar view leaving her feeling as though she could be anywhere but Antrilii lands.

  The only thing that gave it away was the foreign scents. That never changed. Fragrances from flowers she had never smelled, from trees that didn’t exist in the south, and even the earthy odor that filled everything, seemingly drawn from the ground so that it filled the air around her. All of it smelled different from anywhere she’d traveled in the north, and different from anything she had ever known. It made it quite clear that she was not in her home, and that she was a long way from Vasha.

  Would she ever return?

  The better question was could she ever return to Vasha? Without an escort, she would never make it through the mountains, and even if she could, if the Yahinv could not heal her, she doubted she would have the strength to survive the journey.

  Jassan stood next to her, keeping her company as he often did. He had remained mostly silent since their return to Farsea from the Yahinv. In the three days since they had come, she had met with several others of the Yahinv, but none had managed to heal her, though each had attempted. Tonight was intended to be something different, though Isandra didn’t expect that to make a difference for her.