The Aether of Night

by Brandon Sanderson

  “Yes,” Raeth agreed. “I suspect some will be more exited to hear the news than others.”

  #

  Laene still didn’t understand what had happened. The result of the battle certainly wasn’t what he had expected. The fighting had come and gone, and the Imperium had won.

  Could this be what the creatures wanted all along? He wondered as he stood, waving to the crowd. Perhaps they simply wanted to kill Hern, thereby putting me on the throne.

  Though he smiled, pretending to join in the celebrations, inside he was troubled. His political senses told him something was wrong. If the creatures’ goal had been as simple as killing Hern, then assassins—not an army—would have been far more practical. Besides, his first contact with the dark forms had come before Laene had instilled himself as Heir. They couldn’t have known that simply killing the emperor would place Verdant on the throne.

  Too many questions, Laene told himself.

  However, to the celebrating people, life was far more simple. Laene stood with the other remaining senators atop several Corpate walkers standing in the middle of Vae Annitor’s central square. The night was warm, and the square was well-lit by Corpates. Few of the people could believe that their ordeal was finally over.

  Or, could they? There were far more people left in the city than Laene would have expected. True, the evacuation had been interrupted by the arrival of Kavir’s troops. However, there shouldn’t have been so many people waiting until the last moment anyway. Could they really have trusted in Hern that much?

  Fools, Laene thought with a shake of his head, still smiling as he waved to the celebrating crowds. The masses are fools. He had seriously considered bolting to En Mahall after the border fell weeks before—only his position had forced him to remain. Did these people really understand how close they had come to death?

  The other Senators waved as well, though much of the attention was focused on Laene. He was heir—since Hern had fallen in battle, he would be the next Emperor. Even if he hadn’t been heir, he was the High Senator. It was his duty to lead the people during times of succession.

  Perhaps the creatures really were defeated, Laene thought. Perhaps they underestimated the Imperium forces. He hoped that was the case. Far better that he take the throne this way, for there would be no chance of him being implicated in treasonous acts. It was all very simple. The emperor had fallen. The heir would take his place. Very neat.

  “Praise be to the Ancestors!” a voice exclaimed not far from Laene. Haereden, the last remaining Amberite senator, was speaking with a robed Shorriken messenger.

  “What?” Laene asked. Before Haereden answered, however, Laene saw it. The crowd parted below, looking away from the senators and toward something else. A figure approaching on foot, a military escort at his side. He was still far away, but Laene could make out one distinctive feature that said all he needed to know. A tattered, but unmistakably red, High Aedin cloak.

  #

  “How can they celebrate?” Raeth asked as the crowd cheered around him.

  “They haven’t been to the battlefield,” Tarrinon replied. “Give them their mirth, my lord. A great danger has been defeated. They will mourn tomorrow for the friends, sons, and husbands they have lost. But tonight, at least, they should be allowed to celebrate.”

  Raeth didn’t feel like celebrating; he felt like collapsing. However, he knew Tarrinon was correct. The crowds parted around him, calling praises to his victory and his name. Though their focus on him—rather than those who had sacrificed their lives—bothered him, he knew the people deserved a opportunity to rejoice. Even he, deep within, felt an overwhelming relief—even if it was tempered severely by what he had seen.

  “I have sent for a Corpate, my lord,” Tarrinon said. “I assume, now that you’ve actually walked to the city, you will consent to being carried the rest of the distance?”

  Raeth nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Though I want to see my brother before I return to the palace.”

  Something is wrong, the Aether of Night said in his mind.

  Raeth’s head snapped up, an action that prompted looks of concern from Tarrinon and D’Naa.

  What? Raeth demanded.

  I feel something, Raeth, the voice explained. It is not over. I… .

  What? Raeth thought, stopping abruptly. Tell me what you sense!

  “What is it?” D’Naa asked. “Hern? What’s wrong?”

  Something caught Raeth’s eye, something high in the air. A white streak of light, falling into the military district. Someone arriving via Sending; not an uncommon sight in Vae Annitor.

  The line of white had come from the north.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Slaughter and Despair!” Vaemis swore.

  Though Raeth didn’t voice the curse, he shared the general’s opinion. Their vantage on a Cliffside overlooking Saeris Va, the city of the Ancestors, was well-chosen. Thanks to the moon’s light, they could make out most of the rubbled buildings below, many of them still bearing decorations and tents that had never been reclaimed after the disastrous events weeks before.

  The courtyard that marked the Pool of the Forgotten was in the direct center of the city. The pool’s black waters were obscured by a shifting vale of darkness, motion that could only mean one thing.

  The Forgotten were rising again, just as they had on Saedin.

  “How many?” Raeth asked quietly.

  The scout shrugged. “We can’t tell very well in this darkness, my lord,” the man confessed. “Thousands of them, that’s for certain. We’ve watched that pool every day since Saedin, and it didn’t so much as ripple. Then, a few minutes ago, it just started shooting them out again.”

  Somehow Raeth knew how many would come out. Two hundred thousand, just like before. They would bear down on Vae Annitor, just like before.

  They’re already dead, Raeth thought. Why did we assume we could kill them?

  Beside him, Vaemis was still swearing quietly, but the curses were less vengeful than they were despairing. The young general, now the leader of the War Counsel, seemed on the verge of tears.

  They will keep coming, Raeth realized. No matter how many of them we destroy, no matter how hard we fight, they will continue on. We can’t stop them.’

  “This is it,” one of the scouts whispered. “The Imperium is finished.”

  #

  Raeth spent most of the next day trying to find a way to disprove the scout’s apocalyptic prediction. Unfortunately, he had no luck. Raeth, like the Imperium itself, was exhausted in both body and mind. He was so sore that moving was agony, and in the back of his mind there was a sense of numbness. Disbelief. After all they had been through, how could it not be over?

  The Counsel Room, which had once felt so cramped, now seemed empty. Half of the generals were dead, as were many of the messengers and aids. The Senate’s chairs stood empty—there was no battle to watch, for there were no troops to fight it. There were even fewer Shorriken attendants.

  “How can they move so quickly?” Vaemis asked.

  Raeth shook his head. The creatures had indeed replenished their numbers. There was no way to be certain, but Raeth suspected that exactly the same number of Forgotten had reemerged from the pool as before. And this time they weren’t marching leisurely like they had before. The creatures ran like horses, flying across the northern hills, moving at an incredible speed. The strategists projected that they would arrive in Vae Annitor within two more days.

  Three days, Raeth thought with shock. Three days to travel what took them five weeks before. Why move so fast this time? Actually, there was a better question. Why had they moved so slowly before? Was it because they had been worried about the Imperium armies? But, why would that matter, if they could just regenerate from the pool?

  So much of it made no sense. Why had they waited until their entire force was destroyed? Why not replace the fallen members of their force every day after the battle?

  Regardless, one thing was certai
n. Even if there had been a way to defeat the creatures in battle, the Imperium wouldn’t have been able to manage it. Including wounded from previous battles, their forces totaled just under twenty thousand men. A paltry, almost negligible sum. The creatures would find no resistance this time.

  “The evacuation?” Raeth asked.

  “Finished, my lord,” Vaemis said. “Even those who had been reluctant before were…easy to persuaded this time. Only a few hundred non-soldiers remain, the Senate included.”

  Raeth nodded—even that motion caused him pain. How had he managed to make his neck muscles sore? The previous night’s festivities had come to an abrupt end as news of the oncoming army flowed through the city. Yells of joy had quickly become cries of despair, as if the people had secretly been expecting such news.

  “You see what I see,” Raeth said quietly, staring at the map. The creatures were moving so quickly that the messengers couldn’t keep up with them, and the mapkeepers had trouble positioning the pieces.

  The six generals nodded. “There is nothing we can do,” Vaemis said, speaking for all of them.

  #

  D’Naa had to resist the urge to send for her grandparents. Vae Annitor wasn’t safe—they’d probably just end up leaving in a few days anyway. However, their absence left her with no one to talk to.

  So, since Hern—or Raeth or whoever he was—was out, D’Naa went to see the only other person in the palace with whom she had any sort of connection, even if that connection was tenuous. D’Naa didn’t even know if she was still in the city. Vae Annitor was practically empty, now.

  D’Naa found her way with the help of a couple aids and knocked hesitantly on the door. A few moments went by with no answer, enough time that D’Naa was surprised when the door actually opened.

  Nahan looked much as she had when D’Naa had last seen her a few days ago. She wasn’t disheveled or unkempt, but she looked…fatigued, her eyes red and tired, her posture slightly slumped. Her dress was conservative—by Mahallen standards, at least, it was still far thinner and low-cut than anything one would find in Kavir.

  The Mahallen woman blinked in surprise when she saw D’Naa. “Why… ?”

  “I couldn’t think of anyone else to talk with,” D’Naa explained awkwardly.

  The tall woman regarded her for a few moments, then stepped back. “Please,” she said quietly, “please come in.”

  D’Naa nodded thankfully, entering Nahan’s rooms. She was immediately struck by the luxury. She’d known that the Mahallens were fond of plushness, but she hadn’t realized how far that sentiment went. D’Naa had thought Hern’s rooms gaudy, but Nahan’s decorations were far more intrusive. There wasn’t a wall that wasn’t covered with three our four rug-like drapings, and the room was practically clogged with furniture, all of it dyed bright colors and piled with cushions of one sort or another.

  “My ladyservant is out fetching tea,” Nahan apologized, motioning for D’Naa to take a seat.

  D’Naa nodded, following the Mahallen girl, weaving through the maze of furniture to a couple of wide sitting chairs. The room smelt strongly of Mahallen spices, and D’Naa could see several different sticks of incents burning at various corners of the room.

  Nahan sat, relaxing into a plush chair piled with so many pillows that she nearly vanished from sight when she settled back. D’Naa sat in her own chair, yelping slightly as she fell back into its deep embrace. It was actually quite comfortable, though the deepness of the chair’s cushions made D’Naa feel like it was a beast trying to swallow her.

  As soon as she was settled, she realized that Nahan was staring at her. There was silence between them for a few moments. Why did I come here? D’Naa thought.

  “I hear that our victory yesterday can be attributed directly to you,” Nahan finally said.

  D’Naa grimaced. “If you can call it a ‘victory,’” she replied.

  Nahan shrugged. “Ele Kamman said that all victories, and all losses, are temporary. At least you showed that you can do something to help the Imperium. The rest of us, all we’ve done is distract the emperor. Foolishness.”

  “You aren’t foolish,” D’Naa countered. “The choosing of an emperor’s bride is a very important event. It’s just that…well, other things have gotten in the way.”

  “Maybe if I hadn’t distracted him so at the beginning. It’s just that. . .none of us realized that this would… .”

  “I know,” D’Naa said.

  “Father says that the Imperium is doomed. He returned to En Mahall this morning to prepare. I suppose that the Khur were right all along. Centuries of trafficking with demons has finally earned the Imperium its reward.”

  “Demons?” D’Naa asked, frowning slightly.

  “Aethers,” Nahan said. “Creations of the Twins.”

  “Do you really believe that?” D’Naa asked.

  Nahan shrugged. “I don’t think many Mahallens did before, not like the Khur did. But now… . How else would you explain it?”

  D’Naa paused. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

  “The Twins,” Nahan said. “They want to destroy the world, that was why they created the Aethers. They hate all that lives. Even the Mahallens weren’t wary. We didn’t use the Aethers, but we traded and mixed with those who did.”

  D’Naa’s Verdant wiggled on her arm. Though she kept it hidden out of habit, Nahan must have heard about what had happened the day before.

  “I’m sorry,” Nahan finally said, looking down. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the old writings. I didn’t mean… .”

  “It’s all right,” D’Naa said.

  #

  A cool breeze from the north harbinged the destruction that was coming. Raeth looked out from his balcony, gazing across the city into the dark northern sky. They hadn’t even finished burying the dead from the last battle, and a new doom was already upon them. And what could they do about it? Time was precious, yet there was nothing to be done. The remaining members of the War Counsel had been unable to offer suggestions. The Senate had argued into the late evening, yet had come to no useful decisions. Through it all, Raeth had been just as helpless.

  An entire day wasted, Raeth thought, yet there is nothing else that we could have done. Their options were slim. The military was crippled, the priesthood baffled, and the Senate in disarray. The only decision that made any sense was the one that had already been done. Evacuation.

  He was accustomed to seeing lights throughout the city. Vae Annitor was the grandest metropolis in the Imperium, a place where slumber often took second-place to business or leisure. Yet, this night the city was dark. A few speckled lights hung in occasional windows; besides them, the only light came from the military watchfires just beyond Vae Annitor’s walls.

  So empty, Raeth thought, so dark. It was almost as if the Forgotten had already arrived, bringing a cloud of blackness with them. The city was empty. The rest of the military and the Senate would follow the next day, moving to En Mahall at Rall Hannin’s suggestion.

  And what about after that? Raeth thought. What if the creatures continue on? Do we keep moving? Where next? They could probably move to one of the Seaborn isles, especially if they only took those who were in danger. There weren’t many of Amberite or Bestarin lines left any more. Raeth had seen the statistical reports earlier in the day. Though those two houses had once been the two largest, Verdant now outnumbered them both by several factors.

  It’s beginning already, Raeth realized. That’s why the creatures took so long to get here the first time. The military was made up of mostly Amberite and Bestarin Bonds—fighting it was a perfect opportunity to begin killing us off.

  A bit of motion caught Raeth’s attention, and he snapped to alertness, looking down over his balcony railing. A shadow was shifting on the side of the wall—one that was spitting out black tendrils and creeping toward him.

  Raeth paused. “D’Naa?” he asked. He could just barely make out her face. A few moments later her Verdant crept
over the side of the balcony, and she soon followed.

  “You know,” Raeth noted, “you can probably use the door now. I don’t think anyone cares any more.”

  D’Naa shrugged. “This way’s more fun,” she explained. She wore her black jumpsuit, the one she always used when she snuck up to his rooms.

  Raeth smiled slightly, then leaned back against the railing, looking to the north. “It seems so odd,” he said as she leaned against the railing next to him. “Before, when the creatures were advancing, I felt so defiant. Even when I was depressed, there was a piece of me that refused to believe that we couldn’t win. Now…it’s like that piece of me has finally realized it was wrong.”

  D’Naa didn’t say anything.

  “Looking out there,” Raeth said, nodding toward the darkness, “knowing what’s coming, I can finally believe that everything they’re saying is true. I can finally believe that this is the end of it all.”

  “Nahan believes it is,” D’Naa said quietly.

  “Nahan?” Raeth asked, frowning.

  D’Naa nodded. “I spent most of the afternoon with her. I couldn’t think of anyone else to visit, and sitting around waiting was making me crazy.”

  “I didn’t realize she was still here,” Raeth said. “Her father went to prepare for the Senate’s move.”

  “Most of the brides are still here,” D’Naa said. “I think they almost consider themselves members of the palace community. They’ll leave when the rest of you do.”

  “I’ve put you all through quite a bit, haven’t I?” Raeth mumbled.

  D’Naa snorted. “I don’t really think you’re to blame for what’s happened.”

  “True,” Raeth said, “but suffering through the war might have been easier if the question of the bride choosing hadn’t loomed over us all the entire time. If I had just chosen when I was supposed to, most of you could have returned to your families instead of waiting around the palace.”

  D’Naa was quiet for a moment. “You would have chosen blindly, without knowing any of us?”

  “That’s what they wanted me to do,” Raeth said with a shrug. “I don’t know—I’m not even supposed to be emperor. I was a Dari, you know.”