Journey of Fire and Night (The Endless War Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  He refused water. That left fire.

  Jasn was skilled with fire—to be raised to the order, one had to demonstrate skill shaping each of the elements—but he wasn’t certain how to use fire to detect it. Through fire, he could detect the change in heat around him, the way the sun burned across his skin, the bloom of heat where each person stood, but Alena had also shown him that the creatures could mask their heat, hiding from him. Fire would be of no use other than to confirm that the air was growing warmer.

  No sensing would help him, and he saw no sign of Alena.

  If sensing failed, would a shaping help?

  But what shaping should he use? Wind and fire had been the elements Alena chose not to hide from him, but had that been because they were most useful or because she hadn’t the ability to mask them the same way she could with the others?

  “Warrior?” a tentative voice asked him.

  Jasn looked up, pulled from his thoughts to see a young man standing in the shadows of a nearby house. The man touched a hand to his short, cropped hair and tugged on the loose shirt he wore, stained with soot. His other hand held a glob of maroon wax, not yet formed.

  Jasn’s hand went to his sword before he caught himself. He was here to protect those of this town, not attack them, regardless of the foolishness of Alena’s plan.

  “Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?” the man asked.

  “No, I…” Something about the man was familiar, though Jasn couldn’t place a finger on why that should be.

  The man stepped forward, now rolling the wax between his hands, forming it into a ball. Streaks of color swirled through it. “It’s just that we don’t often see warriors here in Masul.” He said the name of the village with a harder accent than Jasn would expect this far north. “And I wanted to know if there might be anything I could do to help.”

  The man continued to hold the wax in his hand, rolling it over and over. Jasn found his eyes drawn to it, wondering what the man was doing and why he’d interrupt a member of the order, especially if he recognized him. Most within Ter avoided those of the order, though most never stared at him with eyes that seemed too wide and hands coated in a strange maroon wax.

  Jasn took a step back and cursed himself for losing track of what had brought him here. Alena had loosed one of the draasin on the town, and he needed to find it before it attacked. Rather than searching for it, he instead stood talking to a candlemaker who had forgotten to leave his waxes in his shop.

  “Thank you for the offer, but I’m—”

  A surge of light exploded from the lump of wax.

  It struck Jasn, and drops of hot, melted wax burned his arm. Jasn grunted, wrapping a shaping of earth around him, drawing the ground up and around him in a tight mound.

  He used the connection to earth to reach for the man. Not a candlemaker then, but something else. Jasn didn’t know what he might be and had never seen anything quite like that before, never seen anyone use wax. Then there was his accent. Whoever the man was, he didn’t come from Ter, but it was different than even Rens.

  Jasn pushed out with earth, letting fragments of the shaping he’d used for protection turn into something else. He heard a grunt, and the air became hot, sizzling like grease in a pot. A shaping built, but this time, Jasn was prepared and pushed against it.

  The shaping eased, and with a sweep of wind and a shaping of earth, Jasn settled the ground, smoothing it as much as possible back to what it had been. As the shaping cleared, he looked for signs of the man but saw nothing.

  Maroon wax splattered the walls of the homes around him, still sizzling softly. Jasn pulled the heat from the wax, straining more than he should with a fire shaping. Convinced the man was gone, he slipped between a pair of buildings, looking for Alena. She needed to know about the attack. And he still hadn’t discovered where she’d hidden the draasin.

  Farther into the town, no one seemed to have realized what had happened. Everyone went about their usual activities as if nothing were different. Not only had he been attacked, but a draasin was in the city. How could they remain so calm?

  Near the river, he found Alena. She leaned against a tall oak tree, chewing on a lump of bread, watching the logs as men poled them downstream. When she saw him, she finished her bite and tipped her head.

  “Find it?”

  “No. And if the draasin is going to attack…” He lowered his voice as he looked at the men working along the river. He didn’t want to frighten anyone more than necessary, and mentioning it would be a sure way to raise concern. “We need to get it from the city. Whatever lesson you’re trying to teach me, you can’t want Masul attacked.”

  Alena pushed away from the tree and started down the river. Jasn chased after her, the familiar surge of frustration rising within him at her lack of an answer. From the way she walked, it seemed she intended to simply leave Masul, risking a draasin attack on the people here. Jasn jumped in front of her, not willing to share that risk.

  “Warrior Volth,” she started, “you will move from my path.”

  “Not until you help me find it. You’ve proved your point. I couldn’t find it. I searched, but as far as I could tell, there is no draasin here.”

  She sniffed. “Of course not. Why would I bring one of the training draasin somewhere others could be hurt?”

  Jasn nearly stumbled as Alena made her way down the stream. She pulled her cloak around her shoulders, and the tip of her sword dipped below the hem of the cloak.

  “But you said—”

  “I said you needed to find the threat in Masul. There wasn’t one.”

  Jasn tipped his head. “No draasin?”

  Alena smiled darkly and seemed to see the burns on his clothing for the first time. “What happened?”

  “I was attacked. A man with wax—”

  She started forward, into Masul, a sweep of a shaping radiated from her. “Wax?” she said, turning to Jasn.

  “What is it? Who was he?”

  Alena’s brow furrowed into a troubled expression. “I don’t know. Probably nothing.” The tone of her voice said that was unlikely.

  “Do you know where he went?”

  Jasn swallowed and wiped his hands down his shirt. “I… I lost him after the attack.”

  Alena sighed. “We should return. Cheneth can send a report and the order can investigate.”

  “We’re of the order.”

  “Not right now, we’re not. We study at the behest of the scholars.”

  As they made their way up the slope of the mountain, Jasn had the sense that someone watched him, but earth sensing didn’t reveal anything, and every shaping he tried failed, much like it failed when he tried to shape with Alena.

  19

  Jasn

  The shapers of Atenas had once studied the elements, but the war shifted their focus from discovery to defense. This had the added effect of limiting exploration. They had reached Tsanth, but had never ventured beyond the waste. This cannot have been coincidence.

  —Lren Atunal, Cardinal of the College of Scholars

  Jasn waited outside Cheneth’s dorm while Alena reported, still without answers about what had happened in Masul. Alena seemed to know more than she let on, but that had been the case since he had first come to the barracks. He was debating mentioning something to Wyath, or even Cheneth, when Cheneth’s door slammed open and Alena stormed out, pulling her braid into place as she did. One hand hovered over the hilt of her sword, and her jaw clenched.

  She glanced over at him. “Take the rest of the day. Work on fire today,” she said and hurried away.

  Jasn didn’t have the chance to even say anything in response.

  He stood uncertainly in the street. Bolston and Geoff, two other students, passed him and nodded, but neither stopped to speak to him. They were students of Marti, an older woman with jet-black hair, her skin so deeply bronzed that she could have come straight from Rens. Jasn rarely saw her around the barracks. Like many of the instructors, she was a
loof. The only one who’d ever given him much time had been Wyath.

  Jasn made his way through the barracks, stopping at the small stream near the edge of the outpost. In the distance, he heard the clang of swords as two warriors worked. He had a moment where he longed to join them, but that wasn’t why he was here. Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was here, not anymore.

  “You seem upset.”

  Jasn turned back to see Wyath emerging from the trees. His limp seemed worse today than usual, and Jasn wondered what the old warrior had done that had exacerbated his injury.

  “Not upset, just conflicted.”

  “Focus on one task at a time,” Wyath said and waved for him to follow.

  They made their way through the heart of the barracks, taking the street that Lachen had led him along when he first arrived. The sound of swords followed them as they walked.

  Wyath stopped near the pen Jasn had helped him shape. He tapped the side and pressed a focused shaping of earth into one of the letters. As the doorway opened, Wyath hung half in the pen, a shaping of water and earth rolling off him.

  “You know, of those who come here, only about one in ten makes it far enough to even stand in front of the draasin. Most others decide they want nothing of it, that the order could use them better back in Atenas or out in Rens. Doesn’t make you less of a shaper.” Wyath glanced toward the pen. “Some don’t survive. This isn’t easy, what we do here. But it’s worth it. Ter is stronger for what we do.”

  “Why restrict it? Why not teach it to all members of the order?” Jasn had wondered at that since learning the depths of Alena’s ability. Being able to mask her shaping had significant benefits, but she also managed to use shaping in ways that Jasn had never seen. Wouldn’t the order be stronger if all knew what she did?

  “Not all can learn,” Wyath said. “Some barely reach shaping enough to be raised, while others spend too much of their focus with only one of the elements. What we do here requires focus in each of the elements. That’s why Alena has been forcing you to stretch yourself. If you don’t reach balance, you won’t be able to understand the draasin well enough to be successful here.”

  The way Wyath spoke about them reminded Jasn of Alena, but then, that only made sense. Alena had trained under Wyath and would have a similar view. Besides, Jasn had the impression that Wyath had been hunting the draasin for a very long time.

  “It’s different than in Atenas. There, when you fail with your training, you get another chance. Here, if you make a mistake, it might be the last one you make.”

  Jasn touched his stomach where the draasin had attacked. It was one of dozens he’d sustained. Each had healed the same.

  Wyath lingered, still straddling the doorway. Heat drifted out of the open door, and Jasn heard the sound of the draasin’s heavy breathing but didn’t know if the beast slept or if it only sounded like it did.

  “What else troubles you?”

  He debated sharing before deciding to tell him what happened. “Alena brought me to Masul today.”

  Wyath’s eyes narrowed slightly, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening. “Masul? That part of your training?”

  Hearing the surprise in Wyath’s voice only made Jasn more uncomfortable with what had happened. “She brought me there to learn to search for danger. I thought…” He didn’t want to finish. Admitting to Wyath that he’d believed Alena might loose one of the draasin on the town for training made him feel even more foolish now that he’d had time to think about it. Of course she wouldn’t do something so reckless.

  Wyath smiled. “Thought she might leave it there for you to find?”

  Jasn nodded.

  “Don’t worry. That test comes soon enough.”

  Wyath started to duck into the pen when Jasn grabbed his shoulder. In spite of his age, the man was well muscled and stronger than Jasn would have expected.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Wyath shrugged. “All part of learning. That’s why we’re here. Need to understand how to find one of these beasts when others are in danger. Especially when others are in danger.” He turned away and started into the pen but paused. “What did you find, then?”

  “I don’t really know. A man with a ball of wax found me on the street. The wax exploded and he disappeared.” Jasn rubbed his arms at the memory of the wax splattering him.

  “Wax?” Wyath asked.

  “Does that mean something?”

  The old man shook his head. “Not to me, but you need to talk to Cheneth. Scholars hear more than I do.”

  Jasn started into the pen after Wyath. “Alena seemed to know something about it. She went to Cheneth when we returned.”

  “Best he knows. If Rens sent men across the border to attack like that…” He shrugged and ducked into the pen, leaving Jasn to debate whether to follow.

  If he was expected to get comfortable around the draasin, he needed to learn what the others did. And Wyath never seemed to object to his presence.

  The inside of this pen was different than the other Jasn had been in. He might have helped shape the stone and kept the massive creatures from destroying the pen, but he hadn’t seen the inside. While the other was a plain circular pen with a ceiling barely a fist above the top of his head, this one stepped down as if it was partially buried in the ground. The floor consisted of stone so smooth as to be almost like glass.

  Jasn wondered if it might not be glass, or at least sand heated over time by the draasin to the point that it had become no different than glass. Warriors attacked by draasin in Rens often came back with glass, and it was prized for how hard it was. It could be sharpened and rarely lost an edge. Some made swords out of the glass, though Jasn wasn’t sure he’d trust something like that.

  Wyath lit two recessed lanterns on either wall, sending a soft white light around the pen. The draasin hung from stone chains attached to massive loops of iron embedded in one wall. Another chain wrapped around its head, keeping its mouth closed. Long fangs jutted past the lower jaw, and the sharp spikes all along the head and back made him leery.

  “Do you feed it?” he asked.

  Wyath paused as he approached and made a point of looking at Jasn. “You’ve seen the way they attack and you’re worried about it eating?”

  “I thought the purpose was to study them. Can’t study if they’re dead.”

  Wyath grunted. “True enough. Draasin don’t have to feed often, so we choose not to. Starving them like this weakens them a little, makes them more pliable. This girl probably ate before we captured her. Would explain why it was so hard to calm her at first.”

  “How do you know it’s a she?”

  Wyath pointed toward the tail. “Barbs. Three for male, two for female.”

  Jasn studied the spikes on the end of the tail. As Wyath said, there were two of them, both of nearly equal size and both as long as his forearm. If swung at him, one of those would pierce flesh with enough force to rip him apart. No shaping would save him then.

  Wyath tapped his thigh as he approached, one hand raised much like when Alena went toward them. “Make sure you hold their focus,” Wyath said. “Make them know you’re there and that you aren’t afraid of them. Don’t move too fast, and hold earth and water ready. You should be using water to soothe as you approach and holding earth for strength.”

  Wyath reached the chain and ran his hand along it. “Now, the chains hold enough earth presence within them, but you can always push in more if you need to. Keeps them from moving. See this?” he asked, pulling on one of the chains hanging from the wall. “Keeps its wings wrapped. Wrap the wings and you can counter the fire. Need chains for both sides to control it. We wrap the mouth to keep ourselves safe.”

  Jasn stepped forward, building a shaping of earth and water as he tried to mimic the one Wyath had created. “Is this the shaping Rens uses?”

  Wyath shook his head. “Don’t know. Never found any who claim that ability.”

  “Do you think we can
ever learn to control the draasin?” Jasn let water build from him first, using one of the first shapings he’d been taught while in Atenas. All who could work with water were expected to know how to use it to create calm. A shaping like that was incredibly useful, especially since most shapers and warriors eventually served as soldiers. If you could subdue your enemy with water, you wouldn’t have to attack with anything else.

  When he settled the shaping on the draasin, he felt resistance, as if it shaped against him. They were creatures of fire, not of water, but why then would the draasin push against him with what seemed like water?

  Jasn pulled with greater strength, forcing the connection to water. He wasn’t a weak shaper in any element, certainly not in water, and managed to draw enough power to overcome the resistance and slam the shaping into place.

  The draasin’s eyes went wide and it breathed out a hot breath of steam.

  “Easier than that unless you want to feel its anger,” Wyath suggested. “They’ll fight you, but you’ll learn that the more you press, the easier it gets. You don’t have to force it with them, just create a shaping with enough strength to slowly ease past their defenses. If you need to, that’s why you shape earth.”

  Jasn pulled on a shaping of earth, mixing it with water, and found that it came easier. Used like that, he wouldn’t need to push quite so hard.

  “Now, when you want to take the chain, you’re already holding on to earth. You only have to add what you’ve already drawn and mix earth into the strength binding the chain. It pulls on the draasin, keeps it from fighting you too much.”

  Wyath reached for the draasin and ran his hand along its scaled side. “This one wants to fight. You can feel it, can’t you?”