by Ain Soph
I freeze after hearing Artia’s answer. That witch. She knew exactly what she was doing this whole time. “So we broke into his place of refuge then? I thought this was just his shop! Thanks a lot, Artia, for giving us some warning before we went through with this plan.” I pinch the bridge of my nose to relieve some of the stress that’s building. Breaking into his shop would have been bad enough. I don’t know how to talk to him and keep the conversation pleasant when we’ve already broken into his home. In my head, a store and a home are two completely different things. I didn’t even consider that in the Void, they might be the same.
Edric looks at me with wide eyes and gives an apologetic smile, but instead of acknowledging it, I turn away from him toward the door. We need to leave before Dryden returns from wherever he is at the moment. Waiting on the steps was a better idea than breaking in. I wish I would have followed my gut and stopped Edric when he started picking the lock. But I didn’t, and now we’re in Dryden’s home, and I’m just as much to blame as Edric and Artia. As I take a step back toward the front door, a smoky, soft-spoken voice makes me freeze in my tracks.
“If you’re not here in need of repairs, I suggest you leave.” Behind me, I can hear Artia and Edric shuffle as they snap their heads in the direction of the voice. I remain still with my back turned toward him. I haven’t seen who the voice belongs to, but I already know. It’s him. Dryden’s deep baritone rings through me, tethering me to the earth so I don’t float away. I close my eyes and revel in its song. It’s so hard to explain my response to it; I barely understand. But Dryden’s voice feels like it can cut through my pain and heal my soul, and that’s a feeling I want to cling onto for as long as possible.
I take a moment to wish Dryden and I could meet under different circumstances before finally turning around. Dryden pulls his gaze away from Edric and Artia to meet my own. He looks almost exactly as he did in the locket, except his chestnut hair is now shoulder length- though still wild and untamed, falling in ringlets around his face. In Dryden’s picture, I couldn’t quite make out his eye color, but I see its a deep golden, so dark it’s almost as black as his hair. I can only tell his eyes’ golden tone from the reflection of the candles around us. They’re set in a dangerous glare, and I follow the curve of his arm down to the pistol in his left hand. I notice the safety’s off and swallow nervously before putting my hands up in the air to show I’m unarmed. The Dagger Corps kept our weapons for themselves. I haven’t been armed this entire time.
Edric and Artia follow my lead, but Edric recovers from his shock much faster than the two of us, “Hey man, you should probably calm down. We’re not in need of your services and we’re not trying to rob you. Why don’t you try talking before your start waving your weapon around?” He sounds angry and I look toward him nervously. I don’t know what kind of person Dryden is, and I don’t want Edric hurt because he can’t control his temper.
“I have three intruders in my home. I think my warning to you was conversation enough. The two of you are mercenaries. If the roles were switched, I doubt you’d give me a chance to leave with my life.” Dryden’s voice is a calm monotone, but I can see the flaring anger in his eyes. He feels threatened by us, and he’s obviously not the type to give up without a fight. I have to find a way to break through to him so we’ll all be able to peacefully talk.
“I have something to give you,” I blurt. Dryden looks at me in surprise and moves the barrel of his gun from Edric toward me. “I’m going to reach into my front pocket for it, okay?” He looks at me for a moment, most likely questioning if he can trust me. Thankfully, he slowly nods his head, giving me the permission I need. I reach into my front pocket and pull out the locket I retrieved with Isoline. Dryden’s eyes widen in shock as he clicks the safety on his gun. He quickly walks toward me and snatches the locket from my hands, holding it up toward the light.
“If you have this locket, then where’s Isoline? When did you last see her?” Dryden looks between the three of us suspiciously, as my breath catches in my throat. Isoline may not have been his sister, but he did know her, making the news I have to give him much more difficult.
I clear my throat and glance toward Artia and Edric on the other side of the room. Both of them are watching the interaction between Dryden and I with wide eyes. “I’m sorry...” My voice breaks and I try to clear my throat once more before continuing. “Years ago, she had accidentally left the locket behind in an old, Victorian neighborhood by the Remnant camp, and I was approached by her for help retrieving it. I agreed to help her because she said she was your sister.” I speak slowly, hoping to see some sort of change in Dryden’s expression, but his thoughts are hidden from me. Even though he’s maintaining eye contact, his face remains an impassive mask that I can’t read. “After finding the locket, a noise ended up waking the Artifs resting inside the house, and Isoline wasn’t able to make it out in time. I… failed to protect her,” I whisper the last sentence trying to bury my guilt inside of me where no one can see it. As I finish telling Dryden everything that transpired with Isoline, I keep my eyes on the ground. Who knows how he’ll react to the news. If he knows Isoline though, then without a doubt, he’ll be angry about my failure to save her life. I should have never taken Isoline along. I made the same mistake with her as I did with Lucie, and now two incredible people are missing from the world- because of me.
Dryden is quiet for a moment before sighing. He turns the locket over in his hands and runs a thumb over its engravings. “I didn’t know her that well. She was just a traveler that passed through the Remnant camp a while ago. But I’m sorry you’ve been blaming yourself all this time. I doubt what happened was your fault.”
My mouth slightly parts in surprise. I expected Dryden’s reaction to be more of an angry outburst toward me, but he’s calm, looking at me with sorrow- as though somehow, he feels pity for me. “I… used to work for the Remnants,” I mumble. Maybe if we find common ground, I can connect with Dryden and get the information I need.
Dryden’s eyes widen as he asks, a little breathlessly, “You did?”
“My name’s Luxem...” I drift off as Dryden starts nodding his head.
“So, you’re Luxem then. If I remember right, you were one of the Remnants best mercenaries. I’m surprised you’re not with the Dagger Corps right now. I’d imagine that’s where most of the Remnants went after the fallout.” Dryden puts the locket in his pocket and glances at Edric and Artia, squinting his eyes at Edric in suspicion.
Edric and I lock eyes in dread. He nods his head slightly toward me to continue, but my stomach feels sick at the thought of delivering Dryden the news. Edric’s nod must not have been as subtle as we thought, because Dryden looks between the two of us with furrowed brows, “What is it? The two of you seem to have some knowledge of the situation that I don’t. Please, enlighten me. I’d rather not be kept in the dark.”
I clear my throat as Edric coughs. There’s an uncomfortable atmosphere in the room stifling my breath. How do I even begin to tell someone that the home they once knew no longer exists? Before I can gather my thoughts, Edric interjects and takes control of the situation. He breaks the news of the Remnant camp to Dryden, keeping to the facts and making it as brusque and impersonal as possible. It’s obvious he’s Dagger Corps from the way Edric’s able to separate his emotions from the situation- not that he had a lot to begin with- but his robotic behavior is almost… impressive. It’s most likely for the best that Edric’s telling Dryden the news instead of me. If I were to tell the story as I know it, including my own personal details about the ignorance of the Remnants, Ulric’s insanity, his cryptic messages, and the threat of the Reapers looming above them, I’m not sure how Dryden would react. That’s too much for one person to take. I can barely handle it and the Remnants weren’t even my family.
As Dryden listens to Edric, his face turns stark white and he leans against the wall for support. I can tell by the strain in his eyebrows that he’s listening intently, but other t
han his wide eyes and stiff posture, he betrays no expression. It’s as though everything in his brain completely shut off when Edric started talking. When Edric finished, Dryden swallows and looks at me with a darkness emanating from his eyes. “Where were you when this happened? You were a dedicated mercenary to the Remnants for years. How did you manage to escape their fate?”
I quickly made up a half truth and hoped Dryden wouldn’t see through the lie part of it. “I was looking for you. Isoline told me she was your sister, and after her death, I thought you had a right to know. I didn’t realize that you were the nephew of Ulric, though. She told me the both of you were nomads. I probably would have gone to the Remnants first had I known.” I did spend time looking for Dryden- that much is true- but I changed around the timeline.
Dryden winces and pauses for a moment before speaking, “Isoline wasn’t my sister. She’s the one who told me about what the Remnants were doing behind all of our backs. I don’t know how she found out and I didn’t ask. I didn’t believe her and she left the camp soon after telling me. To be honest… I think she only left at my urging. I was understandably upset. It’s an action I now regret.” Dryden takes a deep breath and look between Edric and I. At some point in the conversation, Artia backed herself in the corner of the room to casually flip though one of the books sitting around. She’s pretending to act disinterested in the conversation happening in front of her, but her head is cocked at an unnatural angle and every now and then she glances up to catch our expressions. Dryden continues, “I couldn’t get what Isoline told me out of my head, though. I started becoming more interested in militia leadership, and around that time, I was offered a lucrative position within the aristocracy. Dean was thrilled that I was finally taking an interest in something more than books. He’d been trying to get me into the politics of the militia for years, but I always resisted him. I guess it had always been his plan for me to take over the militia after he was gone...” He sits on the ground and closes his eyes, leaning his head on the wall behind him with a sigh. Telling the story is taking an obvious toll on him, but I want- no I need- to hear the rest of it. Regardless of the dark subject matter, his voice is soothing me, keeping any of the information from impacting me too deeply. Dryden keeps his eyes closed as he finishes, “Finally, Ulric let me in on the militia secrets and everything Isoline told me was confirmed. I didn’t know what to do. I just...” He opens his eyes and looks into mine, “I just wanted to stop them.”
I draw a shaky breath and hold Dryden’s gaze as Edric loudly stomps closer to us, drawing our attention away from one another. “What about the locket? It looks important. Why would you give it to some girl you didn’t even like? You thought she was liar.” Edric crosses his arms and leans against the wall beside Dryden, towering over him.
Dryden raised his body to stand eye to eye with Edric and responds, “I didn’t give her the locket. It was my mother’s and something that’s extremely important to me. Isoline stole it from me when she left the Remnant camp.”
I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, “Why would she do that?”
Dryden looks at me for a moment with his hand in the pocket he placed the locket in. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But, Luxem...” I focus on him, trying to understand the strange note in his voice. He looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself until finally coming to a decision and continuing, “I think you’ve been purposefully deceived by Isoline. She’s not dead. She may have told me the truth about the Remnants, but that girl is still a liar.”
I feel the shock of Dryden’s admission flood her system and rest against the wall for support. How is it possible Isoline survived in a house full of Artifs? “How do you know?” I managed to whisper. My eyes veer toward Edric to see his reaction, but his eyes are trained on Dryden, most likely gauging whether he’s telling the truth. Even though Dryden gave up the Remnants to the Dagger Corps, I know that Edric’s going to be looking at every possibility. Did he sell them out to save himself? Is he a liar too? Is he in league with the Reapers too? Artia, on the other hand, is relaxed, sleeping in the corner with whatever book she was looking at open on her lap. How can she sleep right now? I return my gaze to Dryden and wait for his response.
“Isoline came by the shop just a couple days ago. I have no idea how she found me. Then again, if Artia here is giving up information like that, then I guess that mystery’s solved. She didn’t have any news or information for me. Instead, it felt like she was more concerned about whether or not I was settling into the Void alright. Before she left, Isoline made me promise not to tell a soul that she stopped by, but I feel like circumstances have somewhat changed. I wasn’t expecting either of your company tonight or the news you brought along.”
Edric glares at Dryden with thinly masked hatred and mistrust, “So you’re telling me that this random girl- a liar who apparently knew about your militia’s shady dealings with the Reapers, just stopped by to welcome you into the city? And then she took off to who knows where? Do you even understand how you sound right now? None of that adds up. You’re acting like this is some game, meanwhile, Luxem’s been blaming herself-”
“Edric, please! Not now, okay?” I don’t want to get into my emotional state right now. And what does Edric think he knows about how I’m feeling? I’ve had my fair share of sympathy for him, but he manages situations with the emotional depth of an Artif. I don’t need him talking to Dryden about personal matters I can barely discuss myself.
Dryden looks between Edric and I with a quirked brow as Edric throws his hands up in annoyance, laughing under his breath. I know he’s frustrated with the entire situation. I am too. We finally found Dryden but we’re no closer to finding Isoline’s true identity or information about the Reapers. In fact, Dryden barely told us anything we didn’t already know. We completed our mission and it got us nowhere. Edric walks to the window, turning his back on both of us. It’s been a long night; he’s probably exhausted. The mission has been non stop for both of us since we arrived in the Void.
Dryden keeps his eyes focused on Edric and sighs, putting his hands into his pockets. I doubt after the way Edric’s treated him, Dryden liked him very much, but it’s obvious he doesn’t want to fight- at least not this late at night. “It’s past midnight, and I’m sure you’re both very tired. I can see Artia’s already made herself comfortable.” He gestures to Artia’s slumped over form on the floor. At some point since I last looked at her, Artia had woken up and adjusted her position so she can lay flat on her back with the open book as her pillow.
I turn toward Edric who’s still standing at the window, looking at the city lights in front of us. I can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking, but I know for sure that he hates Dryden with a passion that’s surprising. I’ve never seen Edric act so ruthless toward someone- especially a person he just met. If Dryden’s going where I think he is, will Edric be okay with staying in the home of the man he hates? “We haven’t found a place to stay in the city yet. We just got here this morning,” I say, returning my attention to Dryden.
“You three can just stay here. There are bedrooms upstairs you can sleep in.” Dryden’s voice is alluringly low while maintaining the monotone he’s had since first speaking.
“Are you sure? We didn’t meet on the best of terms, and the conversation since then has been pretty heavy. Now, you’re inviting us to stay in your house.” As I speak, my eyes drift toward Edric who still hasn’t moved.
Dryden glances toward Edric before responding. My worry about Edric is probably making Dryden concerned about inviting him to stay in his home. I should act less concerned, at least until Edric and I are alone. “Heavy was talking with my uncle about how he kidnapped my mother. Everything else pales in comparison.”
I hold his gaze while remembering my own betrayal by the Remnants. It changed me for the worse into an even more unstable, bitter version on my previous self. Their betrayal was the catalyst for the darkness to worm its way back into my soul and take hold.
But seeing Dryden gives me hope. The Remnants were his family, and the betrayal he felt from them has to be worse than anything I felt when Ulric told me about Lucie. I don’t know what Dryden’s mind is like, but he carries himself with composure and an innate sense of serenity that I can feel slipping farther and farther from my grasp every day. As I lose self control, Dryden seems to gain it. He inspires me, and another, darker part of my mind feels like we can relate to one another through our own personal tragedies. When I feel insanity creeping into the corners of my mind and my control lessening, Dryden is someone I can tether myself to- to regain myself before I lose everything. I know he is. I heard it in his voice the first time he said something. My soul recognized something in his, and I knew then that beside him is where I belong.
I shake my head, just slightly enough that I don’t draw attention to myself. What am I thinking? Am I so desperate for salvation that I’ll cling to the first person who’s kind to me? My parents. Lucie. Isoline. The Remnants. Each time I’m able to bring myself back, another tragedy hits. I can’t pull myself away from destruction and betrayal long enough to find peace. Instead, my mental state is in a constant state of panic, waiting for the next mishap, the next disappearance, the next death, or betrayal, or any other event that could break me down as a person even more. Even if Dryden’s telling the truth (he has no reason to lie) and Isoline is alive, why didn’t she find me? Did I deserve that guilt, that blame I put on myself? What is this curse I’ve been forced to live with, and why is it happening to me?
Dryden calls for me to follow him. Both he and Edric are staring at me with mild concern on their faces. I’m sure Edric would be much more worried if he wasn’t so tired, but his eyes are drooping even as he’s fighting to keep them open. I nod my head and jog a couple steps to catch up to them. After hesitating for a moment, Edric asks if we should wake Artia up so she can follow us to the bedrooms. Dryden glances at her for a moment before shaking his head, “She’ll be fine. I offer room and board to those who need it, so if she wakes up, I’m sure she’ll be able to find where to go.”