by Ronald Craft
Chapter 15
Ilian was exhausted. He had spent the majority of the night patching Karena up the best he could. Then, he had to get the fire going again and try his best to make some food. It had been an exercise in frustration. He'd watched Karena do it before, but he had never tried it himself. There were several packages in Karena's satchel that resembled the powder she had used to start the fire in the past, and he'd wasted several of them before he found the right one.
The fire crackled in front of him as he stirred the meager broth. He had never been much of a cook. and Kane had never made more than simple dishes.
Ilian spooned some of the soup into a bowl and propped Karena's head up. She was still unconscious and showed no reaction to his efforts.
He had almost left her to die on several occasions. There were times when he had wanted to wrap his fingers around her throat and choke the life from her. Karena deserved the worst possible death for the crimes she had committed. No matter how many times he told himself this, he could never follow through with it.
Ilian refused to kill in cold blood. Each time, he'd close his eyes, punch something and continue his work.
She has to have a good side. I'm sure of it. If I kill Karena, then I'm no better than her.
He wasn't even sure if she'd survive, despite his efforts.
Karena's chest rose and fell regularly. He thought back to the time at the river, when he had seen her bare body, and fought off a blush. Right now, she was nobody. Just a beautiful woman.
Karena's hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her lips were slightly parted. He ran his thumb down her cheek. Her skin was still cold, but her complexion had improved compared to when Ilian had first brought her into the cave.
He jerked his hand away and scrambled backwards. What the hell was I thinking? No matter what she looks like now, this is still the woman that killed my father.
Ilian flopped down across from Karena and laid his arm over his eyes. There wasn't anything else he could do for her now.
I should rest while I can.
He glanced at Karena once more, and traced the curves of her body with his eyes.
How can such a beautiful woman be so terrible? What kind of life did she have that would make her this way?
Ilian sighed and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before he drifted into a restless sleep, plagued with images of sickly green blades, blood and a crimson sword.
—
Karena floated through the depths of her mind. She tried to move but, her body refused to heed her commands. Images flashed through her mind too quick for her to make out. There was something she should remember. Something she should know. She fought against the pain and reached out desperately. The darkness receded and memories flooded into her.
A stone tower, made of the whitest stone she'd ever seen, rose high above her in the center of an open courtyard. The stones seemed to glow with a light all their own.
Footsteps echoed off the stone behind her. She turned around in time to see a pair of apparitions. One was a small girl who was accompanied by a much older man. The apparitions walked through Karena and continued past her.
Recognition dawned on her. This was when I was first inducted into the Order of Assassins. How many years ago was that? It seems like another lifetime.
She followed them past the main hall, and into the oval room where the head of the order awaited them in his great ivory chair. He carved it himself many years before when the order was first formed. The back of the chair was taller than a man, and each armrest was shaped like a sword. It was designed so as to remind the person sitting in it he is but one man in a greater picture.
Valnoth formed the order from the ground up with only a few of his most trusted friends. He had long silver hair, broad shoulders and an angular face. His eyes were a stunning hazel.
Karena knew his face well. He had always watched and guided her as she made her way up through the ranks. In all the years she had been part of the order, Karena had aged and grown into an adult.
This man, though, had remained exactly the same. He was eternal, forever stuck in the body of a middle-aged man. Valnoth, the head of her order. Some thought him a god.
Some lies were better left unquestioned.
A woman stood by his side. Her golden hair was tied back and her gaze remained fixed on Karena's younger self. The air in the room seemed to grow colder in her presence. She wore a simple leather outfit adorned by the customary pair of daggers at her side. Women in the order were all taught to wield dual daggers. It was a quick and versatile method of close-range assassination.
Karena had learned a wide range of weapons over the years, but she still preferred her knives. She had always favored the sensation of feeling the life leave her target up close rather than from afar.
The woman bent down and whispered something in Valnoth's ear. He nodded his head at her words, his expression betraying none of his thoughts. Karena's younger self kneeled before him, and he spoke the first of many words to her.
“I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into...”
“Karena...”
“...it's time...”
Images blurred and shifted around Karena, and when next she saw herself, several years had passed. Her younger self teetered side to side as she practiced her balance on a wire above the cliffs. The training she had gone through would have broken most people.
Even so, Karena looked back on it with a sort of fondness. It had molded her and given her the will power to face even the greatest opponent without fear.
Her instructor was across from Karena yelling something, but Karena couldn't make out what she was saying. She tried to recall the woman’s name, but was unable to do so.
This person was important to me... why can't I remember her name? I feel I should know it, but...
Time shifted again and she found herself in another one of her memories. Karena gritted her teeth.
Why can't I rid myself of this memory? It continues to haunt my dreams.
It was a persistent memory, one she remembered all too clearly. And yet, she felt as if it was incomplete. Karena walked over to the door and peeked through the keyhole with her younger self.
The woman, and a man she couldn't identify, stood near the fire place arguing in harsh whispers.
Their voices are always too low, and no matter how hard I listen, I still can't make out what they're saying.
Suddenly, the woman drew a knife and drove it into the man. Karena watched as a dark mist pushed the blade from his body, and he strangled the woman to death. Her lifeless body thumped to the floor in front of him.
A child's cry sounded from within the room, and the man walked out of her sight. She heard the dull thud of his boots on the carpet before coming to a stop. Karena placed her ear against the door as she had done so many years before. The man's voice, deep and unwavering, drifted through the wood.
“Shh, don't cry. It'll be all right.”
The crying slowed and finally came to a stop.
“That's a good boy.”
Karena's breathing was labored, her vision swam and the world around her began to melt into a cacophony of brown and black.
Why does this always happen? Something is... wrong with my memory.
“You're so innocent,” the man continued. “It pains me to have to do this to you... Ilian.”
The memory shattered.
—
Ilian tried to hold her down, but Karena was stronger than she looked. He had woken up to her screaming at the top of her lungs. It was the kind of scream that carried more than physical pain with it.
Her eyes moved back and forth wildly. Ilian grabbed the pot of water and splashed it across her face.
“Karena, snap out of it!”
Karena gasped, and her gaze focused on him. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Ilian, what are you...” She took a deep breath and closed her
eyes. A moment later, she opened them and the emotion melted from her face. “Where are we?”
Ilian sat down next to Karena and pulled her blanket back over her. “We're back in the cave. There was an avalanche, and I carried you in here against my better judgment.”
“I see. I'm surprised you didn't leave me behind.”
He shook his head. “I'm not like you.”
A haunted look filled Karena's eyes for a moment and was gone. “You think you have me all figured out, do you? There's much you don't know about me, boy.”
Ilian's brow creased. “I'm not naive, you know.”
Karena pressed her lips together. At last, she let out a sigh. “I should've left you in the river.”
He frowned. I don't understand her.
“How did you,” Karena tried to sit up, winced in pain, and abandoned the attempt, “manage to carry me in here?” The words came through gritted teeth.
Ilian shrugged. “Lucky, I guess.”
Karena fixed her gaze on the ceiling. Her next words were ice cold. “I knew your mother.”
“You what?” Ilian drew back.
He'd lived his whole life without knowing his mother. I always wondered why I was the only one without a mother during my childhood. Whenever I asked father about it, he'd get a distance look in his eyes, pat me on the head, and tell me not to worry about it.
Eventually, he'd given up asking and had come to accept it. What could Karena know about her?
Karena turned her head away from him. “I don't remember all of it. She worked closely with the head of my order.”
He stared at her with disbelief. What did she gain from telling him all of this? Just when he thought he'd begun to understand her she would leave him confused.
I only know one thing for certain. This woman is as unpredictable as the weather.
Karena continued, “I saw her murdered when I was younger than you.”
His eyes widened and he raked his hand through his hair. “Karena, how am I supposed to react to that? What do you want me to say?”
His thoughts raced. Was she telling him the truth? What did Karena know about his mother? What did Kane know about his mother? Is that why he never said anything?
“That's up to you. I need to figure out what he did to you. The least I could do is tell you the fate of your mother.” Karena's hair fell across her face as she met his gaze. “Based on your reaction, I'd guess that Kane never told you of her.”
Ilian stared at her dumbfounded. “This is too much. Who's 'he'? What aren't you telling me?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes.
She met his gaze without flinching.
“Let me ask you a question.” Karena's voice was hard. “How did you survive your encounter with Amaren? He was too much for me. You don't even have any combat training.”
He felt the lie roll off his tongue before he realized what he was saying. “I didn't have to fight him. The avalanche scared him off.”
Karena narrowed her eyes. She raised her hand and tightly gripped his left arm. “You can't lie to me, boy. You used it again, didn't you?”
Ilian felt his cheeks redden. “Used wha—”
Her nails dug into his skin. “Don't make me ask again.”
“Fine. Yes, I used it again. I have no idea what 'it' is though. The power comes out all by itself.” He drew his hand back and rubbed his arm. She had nearly dawn blood. Even injured, this woman had power over him.
The thought brought a chill to his spine.
“That's what I'm talking about. You're invoking a power that you shouldn't be able to.” She closed her eyes. “There have only been two people that have been able to invoke flames from within their body, Ilian.”
“And they were?”
Karena opened her eyes and turned her head towards him. “The god of flame, Dagfinn, in the legends. It's said that he was able to invoke a white flame so pure it could burn away even the darkest of desires.”
Ilian shifted uncomfortably. “Who was the other?”
Karena licked her lips. “Dagfinn's brother, Bale. You won't find him in any books. At least, none that you'd find out in the open. Bale was born after Dagfinn, but he possessed a different sort of power. His was the power of destruction, with a flame so black that even the light of the sun shied away from it. Bale and Dagfinn never saw eye to eye, and for many years they feuded over the right way to balance out the world.”
Karena broke into a fit of coughing. Several moments passed before she was able to speak again. “Eventually, Bale decided to take matters into his own hands and descended to the human world. When Dagfinn found out, he swore to settle things once and for all with his brother and followed him down to our world. They fought under the guise of humans, using our eagerness for battle to their advantage. It was several generations before Dagfinn was finally able to seal Bale away.”
Ilian wrapped his arms around his legs. “And?”
“He was banished from our world forever.”
“Yes, and what's your point?” Ilian was getting fed up with her. He didn't care about the gods or ancient battles.
“Then, answer this, Ilian.” Karena raised her arm and pointed a finger at him. Her body shook with the effort. “Why do you have Bale's power?”
He cocked his head and laughed. She's mad. “Bale is a god. How could I have his power?”
Karena narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “That's what I intend to find out.”