Found and Forged

by Ivy Asher

  “Sentinel, no!” Tawv yells at me, and a barrier flashes up to protect the robed males in the middle of the room.

  I turn my pissed off on him. “What the fuck was that?” I demand, each word punctuated by a step toward him.

  He holds his hands up in a please hear me out gesture. “This is how the tribunal is selected. There was no way to know who the source would call. Your Chosen has been selected, that’s all that was.”

  I pause, baffled by what the hell he just said. “What?” I snap.

  Tawv’s gaze softens. “The source selects the Sentinels it decides are best suited for the task. That’s what the light does. It finds the person that’s right and calls them to duty. I am surprised that it selected one not of our kind, but the source has spoken, and it cannot be undone.”

  I glare at him.

  “You have my word, Sentinel, that until the tribunal makes a decision, you and yours will not be harmed here.”

  “Well, that would have been nice to fucking know before you shot a fluorescent snow globe at my Chosen,” I thunder at him. “Next time give us the respect of telling us what’s going on. Or I won’t give you the respect of not retaliating when you touch what’s mine!” I threaten, pointing at him with my short sword.

  “You have our apologies, Sentinel,” Sauriel offers, and I glare at him, Suryn, and Tawv for a moment longer before I let my sword disappear and step back to my guys.

  I meet Sabin’s gaze, and he gives me a small smile and a reassuring nod.

  “So Sabin now decides our fate?” Ryker asks clearly, as confused by this turn of events as the rest of us are.

  “No, Sabin is one of five that will make a ruling on what is to happen with Suryn, her Marked, and with you,” Tawv corrects.

  “And how does that work?” Sabin questions, stepping forward and rubbing at the place in his chest the orb thingy just flew through.

  “The five tribunal members will partake in a fact finding mission. You will interview others, take the laws of Tierit into account and then decide whether the Sovereign’s order should be upheld or a new order decreed.”

  “And I’m just allowed to be a part of this even though I’m also on trial here?” Sabin asks.

  “It is unorthodox, I will agree, but as I stated before, the source chooses, and that is that. You have been selected, and therefore you will work with four others to come to a decision about what’s best for Tierit and the Sentinels and Marked in question.”

  “So it’s like a trial?” I query, making sure I understand all of this correctly.

  “In a way,” Sauriel answers. “There will be five tribunal members that make the ultimate decision. But you are also allowed a representative for each party in question in attendance. The representative is permitted to ask questions and present information to the tribunal to help them reach a decision.”

  “The other tribunal members will arrive shortly,” Tawv declares. “They will be set up in a room and begin doing their duty immediately. Do you have a representative you would like to also be included in the proceedings?”

  My first response is to shout out me, but I pause and turn to the other guys to see what they think.

  “So any of you moonlight as a lawyer in your past?” I ask, the question light and flippant, which is the exact opposite of what I feel right now.

  Hollow laughter sounds off around me, and then everyone goes quiet in contemplation.

  “I can do it,” Torrez offers. “I can smell emotions, which might come in handy somehow. I’ve also participated in interrogations as pack Beta, so there’s that.”

  The way Torrez says interrogations immediately makes me curious. I make a note to find out more about that later. The other guys all voice their agreement.

  “So do we also get a representative?” Kallan asks Tawv.

  We all look up at the Quorum member, waiting for his response.

  “Suryn of the Second has selected Sauriel of the Second to serve as her representative. As her Marked, her representative automatically covers you as well,” Tawv states.

  “Oh good, we’ve been allocated as property,” Kallan snarks.

  “There are worse things than being claimed,” Sabin reassures him.

  “Yeah, like being executed,” Knox adds jovially.

  I snort out a laugh.

  “I guess it’s good we’ll have eyes in on the tribunal and will get a peek at what’s going on,” Ryker states.

  “Yeah, we have one vote for do not kill, at any rate,” Enoch agrees.

  I give Torrez a nod and Sabin’s chest a pat before stepping away from our little huddle. I turn back toward the thrones, and Torrez steps forward.

  “I volunteer to be the representative of my pack for the tribunal,” he announces.

  Sabin steps forward and fist bumps him. Suryn snorts when Torrez uses the word pack, and I shoot a glare her way.

  “Excellent,” Sauriel announces and nods his head at Torrez.

  The back doors open up, and I turn to find a female Sentinel that looks to be in her fifties. She has unusual ash toned hair and eyes that match her cinder locks. She steps into the room with a resolute air about her. Another woman, this one younger looking, walks in behind the first. Her long white blonde hair is down to her waist, and her eyes are a surprising black. Aside from Suryn’s hazel eyes, this woman’s eyes are as dark as I’ve seen on all the Sentinels we’ve come across. She eyes me and then my group, but try as I might, I can’t read any emotion in her features either for or against us.

  A male strolls in that looks like a teenager. He’s tall and gangly and aims a sneer in my direction before passing me and joining the two other women who are now standing at the base of the stairs that lead up to the thrones. I suddenly feel way less comfortable with my life being in the hands of other people with this guy on the judging committee.

  Lastly an elderly woman hobbles in with the use of a cane. Her eyes are a milky white, and every inch of her skin has a line or wrinkle to it. She’s grumbling irritably as she makes her way to the others, and I imagine getting selected for this is a lot like jury duty. You have to just drop everything whether you like it or not. I wonder for a moment what the daily lives of these Sentinels are like. What do they do with their time? Do they have families, jobs?

  “Excellent!” Tawv claps, yanking me from my thoughts. “Tribunal, do you know who you would like to speak to first?”

  “We will question Suryn and her Marked,” the gray haired female states, and Tawv nods.

  I look at Sabin, confused. How does this chick know what’s going on? Did news of what happened yesterday get out to every Sentinel within the barrier already?

  “That light, when it hit me, seemed to upload all the information about what’s going on and what was expected of me at the same time,” Sabin explains, and my eyebrows shoot up with surprise.

  “They can fly and upload information using fluorescent flying snow globes?” I question, well aware of the whine in my tone.

  “Seems like it,” Sabin confirms, a grin on his face.

  “Well, that’s just great,” I exclaim petulantly.

  Sabin pulls me in for a peck and then boops my nose.

  “Guards, escort the tribunal, representatives, and those who have been selected for questioning to their designated room. Sentinel, you and the remainder of your Chosen are dismissed until you are either called for questioning or the tribunal has made a decision,” Tawv decrees, rising from his throne.

  A guard rushes forward at Tawv’s command and leads Sabin and the others out. Torrez winks at me before he exits the throne room, and I smile at him even though I don’t feel good about watching him, Sabin, and all of my Shields leave. The large wood doors shut behind them, and the room grows bleak and quiet.

  Tawv clears his throat, and I jump when the sound of it is closer than I expected him to be. I whirl around, and he gives me a thorough once over.

  “Come with me, I have something for you,” he states, and with t
hat, he calmly walks to the side exit of the throne room.

  I turn and look at my remaining Chosen. I’m not sure what to think of that cryptic statement. The guys shrug, unsure what to make of it also.

  “Fuck it,” I announce and move to follow the creepy eyed Quorum member. We officially have time for some reconnaissance while the tribunal meets, whether that’s for an hour or a week. Tawv is as good a place to start as any for information.

  Bastien chuckles as he, Valen, Ryker, Knox, and Siah all fall into step with me.

  Tawv reaches the side door and turns to me expectantly. “Well now, lost Sentinel, let’s see if we can’t get you found.”

  16

  We move steadily through the streets of the city. The deep purple robe Tawv put over his deep purple armored clothing sways ominously behind him as he walks. I don’t dare ask where we’re going. I’m too fucking worried that if I say anything, he’ll suddenly remember that I’m a hated stranger and that he isn’t supposed to be helping me. I suppose that’s assuming he is in fact helping me and not leading me into an ambush of some sort.

  Another passerby puts the fist of one hand over the bicep of the other, and Tawv nods his head in greeting. I didn’t notice anyone doing this hand gesture to Ory or Suryn when they were bringing us into the city, so I’m assuming this is something reserved for the Quorum members, or maybe it’s a Tawv thing. I’m buzzing with questions, but I keep my mouth shut and attempt to keep track of what ring of the city we’re on and what direction we’re heading in.

  I follow Tawv down another street that spits us out into some kind of a market. All kinds of things are displayed for sale on wooden carts. Turquoise fruit, or maybe it’s a vegetable of some sort, is stacked on one cart next to someone selling jewelry that’s infused with Light—or so the sign says. Clothing in tones of gray and black are on display on several carts, and I wonder why there aren’t options in other colors. Maybe the lack of color has a purpose? I’ve only seen Tawv and the Sovereign in colored clothing, but the bedding and furniture in our rooms were various shades of red, gold and blue. The gray and black seems like a conscious choice and not the result of not having the dyes to make other options possible.

  Some stalls consist of people selling some magical ability or another. I’m surprised when I see several stalls that focus on fertility. I realize in that moment that I haven’t really seen any children. I suppose it’s possible parents are keeping their precious kids away from the big scary strangers, or maybe Sentinels have a hard time having kids. Judging by the lines at the fertility stalls, I suspect it’s the latter issue.

  “So, Sentinel, may I ask your name?” Tawv asks me out of nowhere, and it takes me a minute to pull my attention away from the hustle and bustle of the market and realize he’s talking to me.

  “Vinna,” I answer after a beat of hesitation. “This is Valen and Bastien,” I continue, pointing to the twins. Tawv gives them a nod. “Siah and Knox,” I offer, gesturing to them. “And this is Ryker. My other two Chosen, Sabin and Teo, are with the tribunal.”

  Tawv nods again and goes quiet. He winds us through a couple stalls selling pots and pans and other housewares.

  “Do you know who your parents are?” Tawv inquires.

  “My father was...is,” I correct, “Vaughn Aylin. He was a paladin with the casters before he met my mother.”

  “Ah, so the line is from your mother’s side then,” Tawv inserts, but he seems like he’s saying that more to himself than posing a question to me.

  “Um...yeah. Her name was Grier.”

  Tawv stops suddenly. If the dude had brakes, they’d be screeching right now. He studies me intensely and then tilts his head to the sky in contemplation. “Grier of the First House?” he asks on a reverent whisper.

  “I don’t know. I never met her?”

  Tawv’s almost white eyes fill with sadness. “So she is gone then,” he states quietly, his shoulders sagging with resignation. “The Bond Weavers suspected as much, but her House was still holding out hope when they couldn’t be sure.” He looks at me speculatively. “It all makes more sense now that you are here. Her magic in you must have been what was throwing them off,” he states, like he expects me to understand what he’s talking about.

  “Wait, what?” I stop him mid step and ask, abandoning my keep quiet and go with the flow plan.

  “Your mother left us almost four hundred years ago. She was part of a group of Sentinels who were assigned to do a Chosen search outside of our boundaries. The Sovereign at the time was responding to a push from the people for new Chosen bloodlines. You see, many of the lights of the Tierit Sentinels weren’t marking other Sentinels of the city. We had done a search once before and had success,” Tawv explains.

  “Grier and two others were the only ones not to make it back. The Bond Weavers could feel that they were alive, so all we could do was wait. Then, one by one, their light went out. Grier’s light, however, only dimmed some twenty-odd years ago, and then it was reported that it was brighter than ever. So the First House believed that maybe she was injured and healing. But alas, it was you. They will mourn and rejoice all at once,” he states matter-of-factly and then turns and begins to lead the way again.

  I reel with all this new information. I’ve wondered for so long where my mom came from and what she was doing out in the world all alone. How did Adriel find her? She was out looking for mates. I cling to these new puzzle pieces of information and put them in place in the story of my existence. He said something about a First House? Does that mean I have relatives that are still here? My heart hammers in my chest at the thought, but I furiously stomp out the flicker of excitement that flares in my soul.

  Fuck off, hope, we’ve been down this road before.

  “So if you guys knew there was a possibility she was still out there, why didn’t you go looking for her?” I ask, biting back the other part of that question that I can’t bring myself to put a voice to. Then maybe you could have found me. I swallow down the vulnerability and frustration that’s sitting in my throat.

  “That is not our way, Vinna. Your mother knew the risks when she left.”

  I grab Tawv by the arm, stopping him. Talon’s dying words ring in my head, and I wince at the memory of what he told me about how he met my mom and helped her escape.

  “She knew that she could be captured by a psycho lamia and tortured for hundreds of years?” I state, my tone and eyes bleeding frustration and indignation. They knew she was out there, and they just left her. Tawv closes his eyes as if this information pains him.

  “Not those circumstances exactly,” he croaks out after silently absorbing the sting of my words for several seconds. “But she was aware that there have always been others that hunt and covet our kind.”

  I shake my head at him, not satisfied with that answer, but what else is there to say? Enoch told me about how the Sentinels up and left the casters without a backward glance. The Forsaking he called it. Why would I expect any different from these people? I may not know exactly what the First House is, but I can tell it means something. My mother was something to these people, and they left her to suffer. I let resentment build a wall around my hurt, burying the loss, pain, and abandonment deep inside where I can ignore it for a time.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Tawv tells me, agreeing with something I haven’t voiced. “Maybe we should have shaken off these walls and taken our place like many of us wanted to do. But the Sovereign died, and with that came change and fear. Only time can tell what the future holds for the Light Marked.” Tawv pats me on the arm twice and then whirls back around and nimbly steps away.

  Bastien reaches out and twines his fingers with mine. I know he’s probably picking up on all the turmoil that’s frothing inside of me, but I don’t have it in me to turn around and reassure him. I don’t want to wear a happy-mask to cover up all the fucked up shit I’m processing right now. I squeeze his hand once and then move to follow Tawv again.

  “Here we are,”
he announces as he leads us through two more rings of the city streets.

  We stop in front of a house that’s bordering a fair amount of what looks like farmland. The house itself looks like a quaint cottage that’s in the process of undergoing some repairs. Before we can open the rickety gate and walk up the path to knock on the front door, it opens, and out walks a giant of a man.

  I thought Aydin was massive, but this guy has to be almost eight feet. His hair is long and black as shadows. His skin darker than Torrez’s and Knox’s. His eyes are like black holes, threatening to suck us all into oblivion with one wrong move. There isn’t an ounce of fat on his shredded body, and I can vouch for this because the dude is sans shirt. He sports a brutal scar across the front of his neck. As he turns to pull the door shut behind him, I catch two more gnarly looking round scars where it looks like wings might have once been.

  Before seeing Ory and the other mysteriously winged Sentinels, I probably wouldn’t have made that connection with the placement of his scars, but now it feels undeniable. This is a male that’s experienced some seriously fucked up shit. When he turns back around, he’s carrying what at first appears to be a pile of gray rags.

  “Getta, I’m grateful for you agreeing to do this,” Tawv states, his tone oozing respect and admiration.

  I watch the shadow soaked giant, waiting for him to respond. So when a frail female voice finally answers, I find myself surprised and searching for the source. It takes me a minute to realize that the pile of gray rags that the giant is carrying is actually the feeblest looking woman I’ve ever seen. Her hair is white, and her paper-thin skin has clearly been loved by the sun. Her eyes are a milky white, the pupil a light blue. I’d wager that she’s blind, and based on the fact that she’s being carried, very fragile.

  “Now, I didn’t agree to anything. I only said I would see if she’s worthy. So don’t go twisting my words like your kind is prone to do.” The old woman glares at Tawv. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Tawv cowered slightly at her reprimand.