Shadowborn

by David Dalglish

  “We would tear entire societies to the ground,” A’resh argued in the shimmering past. “We would bind humanity in chains and deny them their own choices. This is heresy.”

  “Tell me,” L’adim asked as he whirled upon A’resh. “How is what you describe worse than the torture we inflict upon our fellow eternal-born?”

  From both then and now, Kael felt the shame burn in A’resh’s breast. He had no answer. None of them did.

  “We cannot delay,” L’adim insisted. “Our unwillingness to fully assume control has already cost lives. Humanity will not change. Not if it has a choice. So let us make that choice for it.”

  He paused. The auras of the lightborn overlapped one another, debating without words. Each of their opinions was perfectly clear to the other, and L’adim sadly shook his head.

  “A shame,” he said. “I thought you among the more open-minded of our brethren. It seems I was wrong.”

  A’resh closed his fist, ending the images. Kael wiped the tears from his eyes. Bree squeezed his hand once, then released, and together they gazed up at the towering lightborn.

  “You need not see the rest, for L’fae has shown it to you,” A’resh said. “L’adim closed the rifts to the other worlds, then freed the legion of eternal-born from their encampments. We had brought in too many, far too many. By our own hand we gave L’adim an army we could not stop. As the light faded from him, and he spilled blood with his own two hands, he lost the luster we all shared. He became twisted and cruel, his form turned to shadow instead of light. His very face became a lie, able to assume the shape of whoever he wished. No place was safe, and many a stronghold fell to his deceptions.”

  Kael remembered well those images of the Ascension. The chaos and destruction would stay with him to his deathbed. Having glimpsed the grand cities and inventions, Kael felt the loss of the prior world all the keener. The sheer scale of death, the millions upon millions of lives swept away in an instant, overwhelmed his ability to comprehend.

  “Thank you,” Kael said. “Thank you for giving us our answers.”

  “We once offered our knowledge to kings and lords,” A’resh said. “But we also spoke with the least among you, and our healing blood cleansed the poor along with the powerful. I miss those days.”

  Kael glanced to his sister. They’d pushed their luck already with how long they’d visited, and he’d gotten far more than he’d ever hoped for when they started this foolhardy task.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked her.

  Bree shook her head, and she stepped closer to the lightborn.

  “L’adim swore you were not the voice of God,” she said. “But what do you believe? Are you angels of heaven?”

  A’resh sank his weight into the chains, setting them to rattling.

  “Yes,” he said. “I still believe. Daily my blood is drained, my eternal form bound to keep your last vestige of safety afloat. I endure this because I believe your people are sacred, and it was our responsibility to guide you, and our horrendous failure that led to your near extinction. The guilt is on our shoulders, and so I bear the weight of your world upon those very same shoulders.”

  Kael’s insides quivered at the aura washing over him. There was so much guilt and confusion overwhelming him, mixed with a throb of pain and sorrow. But there was hope deep within, small but powerful. Kael wished to grab that faith and hold it inside his own breast.

  “Thank you,” Bree said. “I don’t know why, but I needed to know. We’re lost as well.”

  “The shadowborn walks among you,” A’resh said. “Tread carefully, and with eyes wide open. Warn the people. Tell the deaf ears. There are no more miracles left within us to save you should the second apocalypse come.”

  A’resh suddenly stiffened, and his gaze lifted to the doors behind them. Kael and Bree spun. Two furious theotechs stood in the open doorway.

  “Blasphemers!” one shouted. “Only the holy may look upon the angels.”

  He drew a knife from his pocket, as did the other. Kael braced for a fight, for he saw no way past the two.

  “KNEEL!” A’resh thundered. His voice shook the very walls, his fury making Kael’s bones rattle within his body. The theotechs immediately collapsed to their knees. Meager cries escaped their lips as their faces pressed to the cold stone. The lightborn rose higher in his chains, the glow of his body seeming to brighten with his rage. Kael had always felt comfort in the presence of the lightborn, but this was a facet of them he’d seen only glimpses of during his visions of the Ascension, and the battles against the shadowborn’s forces. His limbs trembled. An impulse to kneel alongside the cowering theotechs filled him.

  “It is time you leave,” A’resh said.

  “What of the theotechs?” Bree asked. Kael was impressed how steady her voice remained, for he himself was still reeling from shock at the outburst. “They’ve seen us. They’ll know what we did.”

  A’resh leaned closer, one of his hands stretching closer. Chains rattled, a heavy, metallic thunder. The theotechs did not respond. They looked like they couldn’t even move.

  “Just as they may enter my mind, so may I enter theirs,” the lightborn said. “They will remember only my face. Now go, and share what you have seen.”

  The two bowed in unison, and with a shiver of regret, Kael led the way out from the hall, and from the lightborn he knew he would never visit with again.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Bree awoke to a rapid knocking on her door. She grimaced against the noise, every part of her desperately begging for another thirty minutes of sleep.

  “One moment,” she mumbled, sitting up in her bed and rubbing her eyes. Light shone through the window. Morning then, but how late? Bree dropped to her feet and walked to Kael’s bedside.

  “Wake up,” she said, shoving Kael’s shoulder until he began to grumble and curl up in retreat below his blanket.

  The knocking continued in small, rapid beats. It sounded like an angry hummingbird was attempting to rouse them from their beds.

  “What?” Bree asked, flinging open the door and staring bleary-eyed at Rebecca Waller. The icy look on the woman’s face immediately jolted Bree awake.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  “Sure,” Bree said, stepping out of the way. “Come in.”

  Rebecca entered as Kael was smoothing his bed-mangled hair in vain.

  “Something wrong?” Kael asked.

  “Something is very wrong,” Rebecca said. She crossed her arms, her fingers clutching her elbows in iron grips. “Pray tell me what madness possessed you last night to break into the Clay Cathedral?”

  The siblings exchanged a look.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bree said.

  “Don’t,” Rebecca snapped. “Don’t even try. I know it was you two. Who else would be reckless enough to disobey a direct order by Candren’s Archon during what was supposed to be a calm, diplomatic affair?”

  Bree’s cheeks were burning, and Kael was doing no better at hiding his embarrassment.

  “Would you mind telling us how you know this?” Kael asked.

  Rebecca glared.

  “The theotechs have been raising a ruckus about this all morning. Someone broke into the Clay Cathedral, slew one of their own as well as two guards on duty. They’re demanding a trial, and you can imagine who they believe to be the primary suspects.”

  “They can demand one all they want,” Bree said. “Have they any proof?”

  “What proof do they need when you openly proclaimed your desire to enter the Clay Cathedral in front of hundreds?” Rebecca asked. “Now answer my question, you foolish Skyborns. What possessed you to do this?”

  Kael glanced to Bree, and she gestured for him to speak freely.

  “We needed answers,” Kael said. “The royal family wasn’t going to give them to us, and the theotechs sure as hell weren’t going to, either.”

  Rebecca looked ready to tear down the walls.


  “You asked for permission and were denied,” she said. “By going there you disobeyed the Archon as well as murdering three innocent men.”

  “Innocent?” Bree said, unable to keep anger out of her voice. “They were servants of Center! Has everyone forgotten that they’re our enemy?”

  “Except Evereth has given them clemency to perform their duties,” Rebecca shouted right back. Well, for her it was shouting. Her words came out quieter than Bree’s, but the tone was one of barely controlled rage. “The theotechs are furious, and they’re threatening to cut off all clean water for two days if you are not punished.”

  “What stops Evereth from executing all of them if they do?” Kael asked.

  “Nothing,” Rebecca said. “But the only other person who knows how to operate the deep machinery is Johan, and I don’t believe the Archon is too keen on granting that power to him, either.”

  The woman sighed and leaned back against the closed door. She rubbed her eyelids with her thumb and forefinger, refusing to look at either Kael or Bree with her amber eyes.

  “Archon Dayan has ordered your arrest,” she said. “And I have agreed to hand you over without incident. Your trial will be held later today, after we’ve signed the peace treaty. We’ll have this resolved one way or another so we may return home.”

  Bree could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her and Kael on trial for killing servants of their enemy on their way to discovering the truth?

  “You won’t let them imprison us, will you?” she asked.

  Rebecca finally looked back up. Her face was hard, but her words were harder.

  “Their lack of hard proof or witness will make things difficult,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean the Archon won’t rule against us. I’m sorry, Bree. If forced to choose between all of Candren’s support and two Seraphs … the times are dire. As much as it pains me, I have to consider it as a possibility.”

  So that was it, then. One moment she was being praised as Weshern’s grand symbol of hope, and the next she was an expendable asset in a political gambit. Goddamnit, why couldn’t she just have remained a soldier? At least in the air she knew what she was doing.

  “When do we turn ourselves in?” Kael asked softly.

  “There are soldiers waiting outside,” Rebecca answered.

  Bree felt fear trickling down her chest to settle as a rock in her stomach.

  “May we at least dress first?” she asked.

  Rebecca nodded.

  “Don’t take long.”

  When she left, the two looked to one another, unspoken fears passing between them.

  “We could try to escape,” Kael said. Bree shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “We’ll have to trust that Rebecca knows what she’s doing. Fleeing only proves our guilt.”

  “All right then,” Kael said, sliding open the door of his closet. “Prison and trial it is.”

  They emerged from their room fully dressed in their Seraphim attire. A dozen Candren soldiers waited in the hallway, six on either side of the door. Bree held her arms out to them, and wordlessly they slapped manacles on her wrists. They did the same to Kael, and then linked their two sets with a long thin chain.

  “Say nothing,” Rebecca told them as they were led away. “Save your words for the trial.”

  The soldiers led them down the hallway and toward the front of the castle to a locked and guarded door. Past it were stairs leading down into the deep, sunless parts of Candren. Dully burning torches lit their way into a foul-smelling dungeon. Many of the cells were full of prisoners, and Bree noticed several wore the distinct robes of Johan’s disciples. It seemed Evereth was as distrustful of Johan’s movement as he was of Center. No wonder he let the theotechs continue their duties so long as they promised neutrality.

  At the far end of the dungeon, where only the light of the carried torches shone, the soldiers dumped them into the barred cell and slammed the door.

  “Will you remove our manacles?” Kael asked as they heard a key turn.

  “Manacles stay on,” one muttered, and then the twelve headed back to the entrance. Bree took a quick assessment of their surroundings as the light of the torches faded. No windows, no furnishings, just a stone floor and a bucket in the corner for them to do their business.

  The guards vanished up the distant stairs, bathing the two in complete darkness.

  “I hope you’re not afraid of the dark,” Bree said, and she heard Kael laugh.

  “It could be worse,” he said. “At least we’re not hanging by our feet or something.”

  Bree smiled despite her exhaustion and worry. Yes, it could indeed be worse. The two could be separate instead of together, unable to ease each other’s worries and aid in the passing of time. She sat on the floor and leaned against the side bars of the cell, her manacled hands resting atop her knees. From the dull thud, she guessed Kael did the same opposite her.

  Time crawled, without marker to acknowledge its slow passage. Bree tried to sleep, found herself too nervous to relax. She slowly tapped her manacles against the iron bars, the soft clink somehow calming in the pitch black. Dressing in her Seraphim outfit had proven a blessing, for at least the thick jacket provided some protection from the cold that seemed to seep from every surface.

  “So,” Kael said. Though he whispered, the sound of his voice was a startling thunder in the quiet. “What’d you think of the lightborn?”

  Bree chuckled. They’d not had much time to discuss the encounter on their hurried trip back to the mansion.

  “I think he was amazing,” she said. “There’s something … awe inspiring about being in their presence. And honest. They hide nothing. Their every emotion, it’s just … there. You’re bathed in it, invited to share without shame or embarrassment.”

  “Yeah,” Kael said after a moment. “It’s sad people aren’t like that. It would probably solve a lot of fights before they ever started.”

  “It’s also sad no one else will ever get to experience that feeling,” Bree said. More and more she saw the terrible sins of Center in keeping the lightborns’ existence a secret.

  Kael kept to himself, the silence descending back over them for several long minutes.

  “They won’t really convict us, will they?” he suddenly asked.

  Bree wished she had a better answer.

  “I have no idea,” she said. “But what will we tell them? That we were determined to visit an angel? You heard Evereth’s mockery of the very idea. How do we convince him otherwise?”

  “We bring him to the Clay Cathedral,” Kael said. “That’s all we need, right? It’s so simple. Once he sees A’resh for himself he’ll understand why we did what we did.”

  Bree was glad for the darkness, for at least Kael wouldn’t see her bitter smile.

  “Yes, so simple,” she said. “But what if he refuses to go?”

  Kael sounded baffled by the idea.

  “Why wouldn’t he?” he asked.

  “Because the Archon doesn’t just believe he’s right,” she said. “He knows he is right. To visit the cathedral is to entertain the idea he’s wrong. Some people are willing to learn and accept their knowledge is not absolute. I think Evereth’s quite the opposite. The theotechs will insist we broke in to tamper with the ancient machinery, endangering all of Candren. Our only counter is to claim we wished to speak with an angel. Which do you think he’ll believe, especially in open court?”

  Bree heard Kael knock his head against the bars twice.

  “There’s still a chance he goes, right?”

  “There’s always a chance. I just don’t like my life riding on a chance.”

  More silence. Bree felt bad for her pessimism, but she didn’t want to inflate Kael with false hopes. Her impression of Evereth Dayan had been one of a tightly closed mind. The jailing of Johan’s disciples, despite Johan being provably right about Center’s aggression, showed how unwilling the man was to have his wisdom questioned. Perhaps the Archon would visit the Clay Ca
thedral and demand entrance, but he would do it quietly, and long after the trial was over.

  Bree resumed tapping her manacles against the bars, using it as an indicator of time. A tap every few seconds. Every twenty taps about a minute. Every thousand an hour. It seemed silly to consider counting that high, but she was up to six hundred and seventeen when Kael spoke again.

  “Bree … I have an idea.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Bree said. “Not like we have much else to do.”

  Bree heard shifting, some scraping of clothing. It sounded like nervous fidgeting, but what would Kael be so nervous about?

  “I’ve been thinking about your blood,” he said. “Our blood, really.”

  “What about it?”

  “Well, we know yours restores a fire prism, and mine a light, but there’s clearly more to it than that, right? I mean, look at your swords. No one else knows how you do it, but you do. You have control over the element in ways that don’t require a Seraph harness.”

  “My blood,” she said, remembering her battle against Nickolas Flynn on the steps of the Crystal Cathedral. “I ignited my blood with just a thought.”

  “Exactly,” Kael said. “We know plenty of what your blood does, but what of mine? If I have lightborn blood in me, what else can I do that we’ve not even thought to test?”

  It was an interesting idea, and Bree told him so.

  “What is it you’re currently thinking?” she asked.

  “I’m thinking I need a way to cut my hand.”

  Bree stared around the room despite being unable to see anything. The only tool they had at their disposal was the manacles locking their wrists together. Slowly she pressed her cheek against the sides of the manacles, searching for a sharp edge. She found one near the keyhole, a small jut of worn metal.

  “I can do it,” she told Kael. “Scoot closer and give me your hands.”

  He did, and his manacles rattled as he extended his arms in the dark. Bree searched until she found them, then pulled both his hands down to his lap.