The Aether of Night

by Brandon Sanderson

“What is?” Darro asked.

  “The Pool of the Forgotten,” Raeth explained, holding out his hand and crystallizing it with his strange, maroon Amberite. “Don’t you see? A drop hit me during Saedin. It didn’t taint me with the Forgotten. I Bonded it.”

  Darro stood for a moment, trying to force his mind to work. It’s far too early for thinking. “Okay,” he said. “So?”

  “So,” Raeth said. “So, there are five Aethers, not four. And, if I’m right, there’s another one. Come on.”

  Darro rolled his eyes. “And this matters because… ?” However, Raeth was already out the door, so Darro sighed, threw on some clothing, and followed behind.

  #

  Why hadn’t he seen it before? It had taken D’Naa, an outside observer, to point out the obvious. Forgotten, Aethers, Sending…it’s all the same. Raeth shook his head as he and Darro rushed through Vae Annitor’s dark streets. She’d claimed that the Aedin were ‘experts’ in dealing with magic, but it was that familiarity that had kept him from realizing what now seemed so clear. The Aedin were a people of tradition, and tradition claimed there were only four Aethers.

  “Raeth,” Darro said, struggling to keep up despite his longer legs, “you can’t have Bonded another Aether. You already have one.”

  “Why can’t someone Bond two?”

  “You just can’t,” Darro argued. “Everyone knows that.”

  “That’s not a good enough reason, Darro,” Raeth said, turning down a side-street. Even with Corpate lighting pillars set at most major intersections, the city was still uncomfortably dark. People had continued to flee from the city, leaving behind a fraction of its original population. In the darkness, the city’s wondrous statues and sculptures threw twisted disconcerting shadows. The decreased number of lights in homes, combined with the lack of traffic—even normal night-time traffic—combined with the coldness, made for a very uncomfortable trip.

  “Should we be travelling alone?” Darro asked uncomfortably, as if noticing the same things as Raeth. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to be in danger of being assassinated.”

  “Oh, that was just D’Naa,” Raeth said, pulling his cloak close against the breeze. He’d have ordered a Corpate walker, but he didn’t want to make a fuss. It had been difficult enough to get the palace guards to let him go without an escort.

  “What?” Darro asked with surprise.

  “I’ll explain later,” Raeth said. Their destination soon loomed before them, a dark dome set against the clear night sky. Raeth and Darro marched into the Irae, which had no doors, and entered the circular main chamber. Here they found several braziers burning, and several supplicants enjoying the peace of the holy place. A couple of Dari perked up as they noticed Raeth and Darro’s cloaks.

  Raeth marched forward, walking directly toward the forbidden passages, causing the Dari to jump in surprise. “My lord!” one of them barked.

  “I need to speak with the Patriarch immediately,” Raeth said, not pausing.

  “My Lord, you can’t—” one Dari said, moving to cut him off.

  Raeth released his Aether, growing himself an imposing breastplate as he walked, the Amberite crackling in the hollow room. He pushed right past the Dari, continuing on.

  “You know,” Darro said, eyeing his dark Amberite breastplate. “You’re going to have to come up with some excuse for that discoloration.”

  “I know,” Raeth agreed. “I’ve been telling people it’s come from destroying so many Forgotten—like blood stains on a sword.”

  “Not much of an explanation,” Darro said.

  “If you come up with something better, I’m willing to listen.”

  Darro paused, then shrugged, and they two continued to walk through entered the cramped mudstone tunnels behind the main chamber.

  “I always wondered what was back here,” Darro said, finally appearing to lose a bit of his grumpy edge. Of course, Darro enjoyed any opportunity he had to break convention.

  “Not much to see, I’m afraid,” Raeth mumbled as they passed empty alcoves. The sight brought back images of months and months spent on his knees praying. He firmed his step and continued forward. Behind, he could hear Dari exclaiming in disoriented surprise.

  Raeth led Darro to the chamber where he’d met with the Patriarch several weeks before, when he’d been trying to get a copy of the Kaennis Sha. He and Darro seated themselves before the long conference table to wait. A Dari stumbled into the room a few moments later, looking disheveled and confused.

  “My lord, please—” one began.

  “Send for the Patriarch,” Raeth said.

  The man paused.

  “Our nation is balanced on the edge of destruction, Dari,” Raeth said firmly. “I don’t have time for pleasantries. Tell the Patriarch his Emperor waits.”

  The Dari shied back, then backed from the chamber.

  Darro paused, giving Raeth an uncharacteristically thoughtful look.

  “What?” Raeth asked.

  “Just then,” Darro said. “You sounded just like father.”

  The comment took Raeth by surprise, but eventually he smiled. “Thank you.”

  Darro shrugged, then stretched in his chair. A few moments later footsteps announced the Patriarch’s arrival. He was carried in on his litter, four sleepy Dari bearing him.

  “Emperor Hern,” the Patriarch said, his aged lips frowning slightly. “You remembered your way through our passages well.”

  “I thought I might need to return some time, Patriarch,” Raeth said, standing as the elderly man entered. “I apologize for waking you.”

  “I was not asleep,” the old man said as his litter-bearers placed him on his chair. “Why have you come here?”

  Raeth nodded toward the Dari litter-bearers. “You may want to dismiss anyone you don’t want to hear your secrets, Patriarch. We will be discussing sensitive information.”

  The Patriarch’s eyebrows raised in surprise, then he nodded toward the room’s other occupants, dismissing them. The men’s eyes were uncomfortable, but did as ordered, closing the door behind them. Then the Patriarch turned inquisitive eyes on Raeth.

  “How do you make Vo-Dari?” Raeth asked.

  The Patriarch showed no hints of surprise. He simply sat, regarding Raeth with discerning eyes. “Why?” he finally asked.

  Raeth ignored the question. “You Bond them to an Aether, don’t you?” he asked. “A fifth Aether, one no one else knows about.”

  This time he got a reaction. The Patriarch’s eyes widened just slightly, but it was all the confirmation Raeth needed.

  “Why?” Raeth demanded, leaning forward and placing his palms on the tabletop, looking the old man in the eyes. “Why keep it a secret? Why let us continue thinking there were only four Aethers?”

  Finally the old man sighed. “You know the ways of this city, your majesty,” he said. “The Dari must be free of politics. If it were known that Vo-Dari were Illuminous Bonds, there would be talk of Lines and of votes on the Senate. Instead of serving all, we would begin to serve ourselves. No, it is better this way. Most of the Vo-Dari don’t even understand what happens to them. It is better they think of the Sending as a gift from the Ancestors.”

  “A lie,” Raeth said.

  “A truth,” the old Vo-Dari countered. “It is a gift. A gift that lets us serve without thought for ourselves. Is it such a bad thing to assume that your ability is a direct blessing from those you revere?”

  “So it’s true,” Raeth whispered. “Anyone can Bond Aethers. There are Shorriken Vo-Dari.”

  “Yes,” the Patriarch replied.

  “And one person can Bond different Aethers.”

  “As long as they’re not opposites,” the old man confirmed.

  Raeth sighed slowly, bowing his head. “The Lines are fraudulent, then,” he whispered. “We don’t deserve our Aethers because of our lineage. I could just as easily have Bonded Verdant or Ferrous. There is no such thing as High Aedin, is there?”

  The Patria
rch took a deep breath. “High Aedin are those who Bond Aether Buds taken from another High Aedin,” he confirmed.

  “Twins!” Darro, almost forgotten, whispered from behind. “Hern, this is dangerous information.”

  “You see why we kept our secrets, your majesty?” the Patriarch asked. “This knowledge has the potential to overthrow our entire society.”

  Raeth shook his head. “It’s wrong,” he said firmly. “If anyone can have an Aether, they should be given the chance.”

  “But, everyone can’t have one,” the Patriarch corrected in his raspy voice. “True, there is the potential that they could Bond an Aether, but the scarcity of the Aethers is what has brought stability to the Imperium for centuries. What if everyone had Aethers? There would be no reliance on the Aedin and their central government. The Senate would lose power; the kingdoms would fracture, and there would be war.

  “Do you realize how incredible an entity the Imperium has been? Five racially different peoples living together under one government, with virtually no inter-kingdom strife? Your majesty, it is better this way. True, the division of Aethers is rather arbitrary, but no more so than the royalty of any other land. Other nations have kings, and their only call to their position is their blood line.”

  Raeth stood quietly, uncertain how to respond.

  “Your father knew of this secret, Lord Hern,” the Patriarch said. “All of the Emperors have, and they have all determined to keep it quiet. We would have told you, had other matters not been more pressing.”

  “You should have told me anyway,” Raeth said, nodding for Darro and turning toward the door. “Thank you for your time, Patriarch.”

  #

  Darro flopped down in one of Raeth’s chairs, helping himself to the still-warming tea. D’Naa was nowhere to be seen. “I still don’t see what good this does,” he said.

  Raeth entered the room, frowning to himself silently. So much of what I’ve known, what I’ve been, is untrue. Dare I let it be known?

  “Raeth?” Darro asked, frowning.

  “I don’t know, Darro,” Raeth said, sighing, but not sitting down. He hadn’t forgotten his fatigue from the battle, he’d just managed to push it aside. He was afraid, however, that if he sat down he wouldn’t be able to ignore the exhaustion any more. He needed his mind alert for a little while longer. “Somehow, I thought it would tell us more. The Pool of the Forgotten is an Aether, but what does that mean?”

  “That people can Bond it,” Darro said with a shrug.

  “But what can it do?” Raeth asked, frowning as he paced. “It makes my Amberite stronger. Is that the extent of its abilities?”

  Darro downed his cup of tea in a single gulp, then moved to pour himself another cup. “You seem to be able to destroy the Forgotten with remarkable ease.”

  “True,” Raeth realized. Then, slowly, both brothers met each others eyes.

  “Raeth, if every Amberite Bond could do as you do… .” Darro said, smiling.

  No, the voice snapped suddenly in Raeth’s mind.

  Raeth paused. No, what?

  You mustn’t do this thing, the voice said. It would not work.

  How do you know? Raeth demanded with frustration.

  I do, the voice said simply. I…things you say, they make me remember. Not remember, but think. Understand. I keep you safe. If others Bonded Night…He would have power over them.

  He? Raeth asked. He who?

  There was no reply. Raeth sighed to himself, slumping down in a chair.

  Darro was regarding him with confused, worried eyes.

  “The Voice,” Raeth said. “It told me not to let anyone Bond Night. He says it would be dangerous. Disastrous, even.”

  Darro frowned. Raeth could see a measure of hesitance in his eyes. “You trust it now?”

  Raeth paused. “No,” he admitted. “But…do we want to take chances? We know the Pool of Forgotten kills whoever it touches. My survival is the exception, but the only one we know of.”

  Darro sat back, emptying the last of the tea into his cup. “We still haven’t answered the question of what your new Aether can do. It destroys forgotten—but you yourself said it’s similar to the Vo-Dari one. What did the Patriarch call it?”

  “Illuminous,” Raeth answered.

  Darro shrugged again. “Amberite and Verdant are opposites, and they both grow things. Ferrous and Bestarin are opposites, and they both transform their hosts into something else. Maybe Night and Illuminous both Send.”

  Raeth paused thoughtfully.

  Suddenly, Darro looked somewhat apprehensive. “Somehow, I think I just got myself into something I really would rather avoid,” he mumbled.

  “Vo-Dari can’t Send themselves,” Raeth said, standing and approaching Darro. “Where do you want to go?”

  Darro sighed. “A tavern?” he asked hopefully.

  Raeth snorted. “How about your rooms instead,” he said. He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath and reached out to touch Darro on the head.

  Nothing happened. I have to activate it, Raeth thought, frowning to himself. He tried to command the Aether to act, but it only started growing Amberite from his palm. Raeth stood, perplexed, for a moment before Darro finally sighed.

  “Not that I don’t appreciate you trying to dissolve me into nothing,” Darro said. “But if you don’t mind, I think I’d rather just go to bed.”

  Raeth stepped back, shaking the Amberite from his hand. “Apparently it doesn’t work like that,” he assumed.

  “Apparently,” Darro said, stretching. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. I assume you intend to continue going to the battlefield.”

  Raeth nodded. Too little time! He thought, his own weariness suddenly dropping on him. As Darro left, Raeth sighed and walked into his bedchambers, trying to reconcile the knowledge that for all of the day’s accomplishments and discoveries, the Forgotten army was only a five day’s march away from Vae Annitor. And the Imperium forces had yet to do more than slow them down.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rising the next morning was difficult for Raeth. The soreness was just as strong as he’d feared, especially through his arms. In addition, the late night had left him with a lethargic drowsiness. Still, he forced himself out of bed when the sunlight, shining through one of the palace’s glass windows, awakened him. He resisted the urge to close the shutters and go back to bed, instead beginning to dress.

  He was mildly surprised when a tap came at his bedroom door. “Come in,” he said as he pulled on his trousers.

  “Good morning, my lord,” Tarrinon said dressed, as always, in his Shorriken robes and lose hat.

  “Tarrinon,” Raeth said, bracing himself for a scolding. “I’m sorry for leaving yesterday without telling you.”

  “It is all right, my lord,” Tarrinon said. “Just because it’s my job and duty to tell people where you are doesn’t mean you have to inform me of your intentions. Even if it does make me appear to be an idiot.”

  Raeth cringed. I suppose I had that coming… . “I didn’t do it maliciously, Tarrinon,” Raeth promised. “I just got—”

  Tarrinon held up a hand, continuing in a quiet tone. “If yesterday’s disappearance means an end to your depression, my lord, then I am more than happy to have been minorly inconvenienced. Let us speak of it no more.”

  Raeth paused, wondering how to explain that his ‘depression’ had been so much more than Tarrinon assumed. However, for lack of words, he finally just nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I assume you will return to the battlefield today?” Tarrinon asked.

  “If possible,” Raeth agreed, continuing to dress. “Assuming I don’t have any vital appointments.”

  “I will rearrange your schedule to see that you are free,” Tarrinon replied.

  Raeth looked up with surprise. Tarrinon, canceling and moving appointments without an argument?

  Tarrinon looked back calmly. “Sometimes, those of us in my position have a tendency to forget about the outsid
e world,” he explained. “But, well, there are some things even we cannot ignore. I can only think of one place I would like you to be today, my lord. The place you can do the most good.”

  Raeth sighed quietly. “I don’t know how much ‘good’ I’ll be able to do, Tarrinon. It seems like our best efforts barely merit a glance from the creatures.”

  “I don’t know about that, my lord,” Tarrinon said. “Look out your window.”

  Raeth shot the little man a confused glance, then did as instructed. The city extended before him, in all of its beauty and glory. However, one thing was dreadfully wrong. Very few people moved down below. It seemed bare and unpopulated, at least compared to its former state. “What am I supposed to see?” he asked.

  “People, my lord,” Tarrinon said.

  “Not very many of them.”

  “Still, there are a surprising number, if you ask me,” Tarrinon said. “They trust you, my lord. The enemy is less than a week away, yet many people stay. The High Aedin have always watched over them like careful parents. Imperfect parents, true, but compassionate ones nonetheless. They trust you still. Especially you, my lord.”

  “But I’ve only been Emperor for a few weeks,” Raeth objected.

  “Still, you are their father. News of your fighting yesterday has already reached the city. The rumors say that you held off dozens of the creatures on your own, that you felled Forgotten with every blow. The exodus from the city slowed today. It seems more people are willing to stay and trust in you.”

  “And what if we fail them?” Raeth whispered, pressing his hand against the glass, staring down at the streets and their specks seven stories below.

  “You won’t,” Tarrinon replied. “You see, my lord, I have faith in you too.”

  Raeth took a deep breath. Who could have known that in leaving the Irae, he would end up with such burdens? “All right, then,” he said. “I need to get going. They’ve probably started the Sending already.”

  #

  “One thing about this advance, my lord,” Taenen said as he and Raeth inspected the troops. “It lets us choose our battlefields.”

  Raeth nodded in agreement. The site was known as the bells, a series of hills directly north of Vae Annitor. The military was carefully laid out upon the wide, snow-covered hills. As always, the High Aedin were situated in the far back of the battlefield. They sternly ignored Raeth, their eyes showing they hadn’t forgotten his trick the day before. Raeth would be hard-pressed to make use of them again.