The Shadow Of What Was Lost (Book 1)

by James Islington

  He’d begun seeing familiar landmarks over the past couple of days. They’d passed the Eloin Marshes this morning; yesterday they’d travelled through the mid-sized town of Goeth, where he had distant relatives with estates. Now, in the distance, the tip of Ilin Tora was just barely visible against the horizon. Every step he took felt heavier with reluctant inevitability. He’d known this day would come, though he’d wished against it constantly.

  “Which problem are you worrying about?” came a soft voice at his side.

  He started, whipping his head around. Dezia was walking beside him, looking torn between amusement and concern.

  He smiled at her, though he knew the effort was a weak one at best. “I’m trying to give them all a fair shot at ruining my day,” he said lightly. He couldn’t help but widen his smile as the corners of Dezia’s mouth turned upward. A moment later he looked away, feeling like he'd been punched in the stomach. Being home meant seeing Dezia far less, too. If at all.

  “Which one is winning at the moment?” she asked.

  Wirr grunted, glancing around. They were slightly separate from the others, able to have a conversation without being in danger of anyone overhearing. “Going back to court,” he admitted. “Pretending to be someone I'm not.”

  Dezia’s eyebrow raised a little. “As opposed to the last few years?”

  Wirr sighed. “You know what I mean. I won’t even be able to look sideways at one of the Gifted for the next few years. And there will be... other restrictions on what I can do, too. Who I can spend time with.”

  Dezia nodded slowly. "I know." She gave a small smile. "Though that doesn't mean you won't run into people. Coincidentally."

  Wirr grinned. "Certainly. Sometimes you can't avoid running into people," he agreed readily. His smile faded. "But still... it won't be the same as out here." He shook his head in frustration. “I won’t even be able to help to find out what happened at the school. It will be nothing but lessons in politics, and maybe military tactics, for the foreseeable future.”

  “As long as there is a foreseeable future,” observed Dezia, " the rest will work itself out." She reached over and squeezed his arm, a reassuring touch.

  Wirr gave a grim nod in response. The past couple of days they had been moving very much against the flow of travellers; the closer they got to the city, the more people there seemed to be leaving it. Many were hauling carts and wagons filled to the brim with personal items. Some said they were leaving the city only as a precaution against the oncoming army, and expected to return once word came that the king’s forces had defeated the enemy. But others were not so certain.

  “Do you believe what people are saying about the invaders?” he asked. “That they're stronger and faster than normal men should be?”

  Dezia shrugged. “I’m not sure. On one hand, it’s only a rumour, and it could be blown entirely out of proportion – I doubt we can trust what Jashel and Llys told us. On the other... we saw ourselves what they’re capable of. They obviously have some powers.” She sighed. “It is going to be a difficult time for your uncle.”

  Wirr nodded. They had already heard murmurs against the king - rumours suggesting he had started to take a hard line against the Gifted, just when he should be courting them and considering the possibility of modifying the Tenets. It was hard to know how much was true, and how much was just people's nervousness - it was only grumbling, the odd word here and there - but the message was clear enough. People were frightened by what they'd heard of the Blind. They wanted the invaders defeated by any means possible.

  “Whatever the Blind are, it sounds like what we saw was hardly the worst of what they've done,” Wirr noted. Word had begun to trickle in a couple of days ago from those refugees who were brave, or foolish, enough to come to Ilin Illan to help fight. Villages burned to the ground, entire towns razed. Men, women and children – regardless of whether they resisted, fled or surrendered – being slaughtered and left for the animals. “I hope we’re making the right choice, going back to the city.”

  “Given the circumstances, it’s the only thing we can do.” It was Taeris interjecting; he'd drifted closer to them and had evidently overheard. He lowered his voice, looking at Wirr. “Before we reach Fedris Idri, Caeden and I will need to part ways with the rest of you.”

  Wirr nodded; he'd known it would probably be necessary. “If there's any way I can help....”

  Taeris shook his head, looking up ahead at the steadily growing silhouette of Ilin Tora. “No. Needless to say, Wirr, even though it’s been a few years and my face has… changed, once inside the city I’ll need to tread lightly. I was known to a lot of the Administrators. If I’m caught... well, the last thing you need is to be associated with me.”

  Wirr acknowledged the advice with a nod, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Taeris was right; he couldn’t afford to be found travelling with any of the Gifted, let alone with two accused of murder.

  “Still. There must be something I can do, even if it's not directly,” he said. “My name won’t carry much weight in political circles just yet, but Karaliene will be back from Desriel by now. I can probably convince her to use her connections, put pressure on the Council to help you, should things not go well at the Tol.”

  Taeris raised an eyebrow. “To do that, you would need to tell her that Caeden and I were in the city. And she didn't exactly take a shine to us when we last met.”

  Wirr nodded. “True - but a lot has changed since Thrindar. You warned us about the Boundary weakening before the invasion began, and that will count for something. I know my father and uncle won't believe a word of your theory, but Karaliene's always made up her own mind about things. I think I can convince her."

  Taeris looked dubious, but nodded. "I leave it to your judgment, Wirr," he said quietly.

  “Then I'll try. If you fail at the Tol, come to the palace and ask for Aelric or Dezia. I'll make sure they know what to do. At worst, they have to turn you away.”

  Taeris clapped Wirr on the shoulder. “That’s very generous. I hope it won’t come to that, but should the Council be unwilling to listen, I’ll take you up on that offer. There won't be many other places for us to turn, to be honest.”

  Wirr inclined his head. “I’ll also be listening for any notable arrests in the city. If the worst should happen and you get caught, I’ll see what I can do with Administration. It will be risky, but aside from anything else, getting Caeden’s memories restored is too important at the moment.”

  Taeris smiled slightly. “You’re a handy man to have around, Wirr.” He glanced over at Caeden. “I should let him know what to expect, I suppose,” he murmured to himself, detaching himself from the group.

  Wirr took a deep breath, glancing across at Dezia. “So I suppose this is it. Everything changes,” he said, tone grim despite his best efforts. Ilin Tora was now clearly visible up ahead; Wirr could even make out the gap in the mountains where Fedris Idri lay.

  Dezia nodded, almost to herself. “Everything changes,” she repeated quietly.

  ***

  Caeden looked up as Taeris tapped him on the shoulder.

  "We're nearly at the city," the scarred man informed him. "We should talk about what's going to happen next."

  Caeden nodded. "I'd been wondering." He'd already gathered that Taeris was not on the best of terms with the Tol, and actively wanted by Administration. The end of their trip was going to be no easier than the rest of it, it seemed.

  "First, we're going to split up from the others soon. Before we reach the city."

  Caeden frowned. "Why?"

  Taeris shrugged. "Justified or not, we've been accused of crimes, and the others have not. Aelric and Dezia have reputations to protect, and it's in Wirr's best interests if he's not associated with us either. Starting out in the Tol can be hard enough without that sort of introduction."

  "Oh." It made sense... still, he felt the slightest sting of betrayal. It was irrational, he knew, but the others were his closest
- only - friends.

  Taeris saw his expression and gave him a sympathetic smile. "It was my decision. I insisted," he added. "The others understand the logic behind it, but it's not something they would have asked for."

  Caeden opened his mouth to reply.

  Without warning, screams split the air.

  Everyone froze as chaos erupted on the road just ahead of them. Travellers in front of them scattered, fleeing across fields, away from a figure swathed in black. A figure hard to focus on, as if somehow deep in shadow despite the noonday sun shining on it.

  It was surrounded by bodies – four, Caeden thought. None of them moved.

  Taeris gripped his shoulder. “Get ready,” he muttered. “There's nowhere to run this time. We can’t beat it without you.”

  The sha’teth was coming now, walking steadily towards them, though it was covering the distance at an unnatural speed for its gait. Dezia had already unslung her bow and was notching an arrow; Caeden watched in stunned fascination as she loosed and the creature moved smoothly to one side, impossibly fast, the arrow clattering harmlessly to the road behind it. Aelric was trying to push his way forward, sword drawn, but to Caeden's relief Wirr dragged the other boy back again. Steel would have no place in this battle.

  In moments, the creature was standing only twenty feet away.

  “You were warned, Taeris Sarr,” it hissed. Its face was covered by its hood, but Caeden could feel the malice of its gaze on him. “I told you that all you needed to do was relinquish him, and no-one else would die. Now, your companions will all pay for your foolishness.”

  Caeden closed his eyes, concentrating. He knew what to do.

  He moved several paces in front of the others, stretching out his hands towards the sha’teth and tapping his Reserve.

  A torrent of energy exploded from him, a blinding wave of yellow-white light. This was power. He gloried in the strength he felt, how vivid the colours of the world were, how right the feeling was.

  He released Essence, panting a little from the exertion, almost laughing at how easily it had come to him.

  Then he stumbled as the memory crashed into him.

  The cold wind of Talan Gol swept silently through the deserted stone streets, sending a shiver down his spine. He increased his pace. Seclusion was an area of Ilshan Gathdel Teth where no living thing survived for long, and powerful though he was, he had no desire to find out why.

  He glanced to his right; Gellen was walking alongside him, lost in thought, apparently unperturbed by where they were. That was his way, though. Unflappable, silent unless spoken to but always observing, always thinking. A strong successor to Chane.

  “What do you think?” he asked Gellen.

  Gellen continued as if he hadn’t heard for a few moments, then sighed. “I think even from here, there must be a way to use them. To turn their existence to our advantage. The Gifted have no idea of the powers they are meddling with, creating these sha’teth – I doubt they would be able to stop us taking their new toys away from them.”

  Caeden nodded; he had been thinking much the same thing. “To do that, He would need to send one of us across.”

  Gellen didn't look at him, but Caeden saw the slightest tensing of muscles in the other man's face. “Dangerous ground, Tal’kamar,” he said softly.

  Caeden grimaced, but nodded. It was dangerous ground. Still. “Vote for me.”

  “I’ve voted for you the last three times. People are beginning to talk. He is already suspicious.”

  Caeden shrugged. “That doesn’t matter. We can’t create sha’teth ourselves, and won’t be able to until the power of the ilshara has been broken. When that happens, the attack will already be underway. The Andarrans have five of them. Five! If they still control them when the time comes, what do you think will happen to our forces?” He paused. “I am the only one who can do this, Gellen. You know that.”

  Gellen grunted noncommittally, but Caeden knew his point had been made. They walked on in silence for a while, then Gellen said, “He thinks you are planning to overthrow him, you know.”

  Caeden blanched. “What?” The exclamation rang out over the empty streets, and he clapped his hand over his mouth. Whatever lurked in Seclusion, the last thing he wanted was to attract its attention.

  Gellen glanced around to check there was no-one nearby, though they both knew they were alone here. “All your trips Outside. Your neglecting your duties at the Cyrarium. And the incident with Nethgalla didn’t go over well, either.”

  Caeden snorted. Inwardly, he didn’t know whether to be amused or fearful. “Where did you hear that?”

  They had reached a black iron gate; with a gentle push Caeden opened it enough for them to pass through into the building beyond.

  “Around,” replied Gellen.

  Caeden frowned. “Needless to say, it is untrue.” In some ways, it couldn’t be further from the truth.

  “Of course,” said Gellen smoothly.

  They walked inside without another word.

  As Caeden's vision cleared, his triumphant smile faded.

  The sha’teth stood exactly where it had. Its hand was outstretched, and a black, translucent rippling bubble surrounded the creature’s body.

  The sha’teth lowered its hand, and the bubble disappeared. It gave a rasping laugh. “You truly have forgotten, haven’t you, Tal’kamar,” it said to Caeden softly. Pityingly. “Aelrith was caught by surprise when you attacked him, and Khaerish and Methaniel were craven. But I am neither unprepared nor afraid.” It stood motionless, waiting.

  Caeden hesitated, still shaken by the memory. Like before, aspects of it were crystal clear - but there was no further knowledge, no sudden rush of information to tell him who he’d been. He could picture Gellen and knew his name, but knew nothing more of him outside of that memory. And what he’d said about the sha’teth…

  “Who do you serve?” he asked the sha’teth suddenly, muscles tensed in case the creature attacked.

  The creature chuckled. “Are you not the one who set us free? Who do you serve, Tal’kamar?” it replied, quietly enough that the others could not overhear. “I can never keep track.”

  Caeden felt the blood drain from his face. He dared not look back at the others. “I serve my friends, and Andarra. Whatever ties I had in my past life are gone.” He said the words with as much confidence as he could muster.

  The sha’teth laughed again in its raspy voice. “You cannot escape yourself forever.”

  Suddenly a glow surrounded it, and time seemed to slow. Bursts of light erupted from the sha’teth’s chest, streaks of power that headed towards the other four members of Caeden’s party. He knew instantly that should those bolts touch them, they would be dead.

  There was only a moment to stop them; even with his newfound control of Essence, he couldn’t shield them all.

  He couldn’t choose, though. He wanted to save them all. He needed to save them all.

  Desperately, he willed the bolts to stop.

  Dark bubbles, exactly like the one that had surrounded the sha’teth, sprang up around Caeden’s companions. The bolts sizzled into the surface of each one and simply vanished, gone as if they had never existed. The sha’teth gave an angry hiss as it realised its attack had been thwarted.

  “So. You have forgotten some, but not all,” it said.

  Caeden nodded, trying to hide the fact that he was as surprised as the sha’teth that the bubbles had appeared. “Not all,” he repeated grimly. He stretched out his hand once again towards the creature.

  This time, though, he didn’t use Essence. There was something else there, the same thing he’d used to create his companions’ shields. The bubble appeared again around the sha’teth, but Caeden simply pushed at it. He felt it move, flex beneath his pressure. He closed his eyes, then imagined himself ripping the bubble away, tearing it like a piece of parchment.

  There was a shriek, and he opened his eyes to see the sha’teth on the ground, writhing in pain.

>   “No!” it screeched, angry and despairing. “It is not possible!”

  Caeden walked over to it, ignoring the cautioning cries of the others, who hadn't moved since the sha’teth had first appeared. He stood over the creature, then leaned down and pulled back its hood.

  Beneath there was a man’s head, but it was disfigured, pale and scarred. That was not what made Caeden take an involuntary step back, though. The creature’s eyes stared back at him with pain, with anger. Human eyes.

  Aside from its glare, now, the sha’teth showed no further outward signs of distress. It had stopped writhing, and was instead staring up at Caeden. It wore an almost curious expression.

  “You should know. I was the one who killed him,” it whispered. It wasn’t a confession; there was no trace of sadness in the statement. It was gleeful.

  Caeden frowned. “Who?”

  The sha’teth scowled. It tried to rise, but Caeden knelt on its chest, forcing it back down. For some reason, it seemed unable to use its powers at the moment. “And I had so looked forward to telling you,” it hissed, disappointed.

  “You must finish it, Caeden!” called Taeris, his tone urgent. “Don’t let it distract you!”

  Caeden hesitated, then leaned forward. “Who are you talking about?” He clenched his hand into a fist. “Why did you come for me?” he whispered, low enough that the others could not overhear. “Who wants me, and why?”

  The sha’teth gave a rasping laugh. “I will tell you - but it will be so all your friends can hear. So they can know what kind of man you truly are.” It raised its voice, calling out the words. “Can you all hear me?”