The Coming Chaos

by D. K. Holmberg

  She glanced down at her wrists, looking at the metal as it pierced her skin. She traced her fingers over the other wrist, feeling the warmth. It was strangely soothing to touch it, and it was far smoother than her cloth had been.

  Why should she develop this ability?

  It was the kind of question she should be asking. It was the kind of question the Great One wanted her to ask. Observe, determine the reason behind something, and use that knowledge.

  And yet, there might not be a reason. It didn’t seem as if they had intentionally placed the bars around her wrists and her ankles in order for her to acquire this ability. They had used it to trap her, to hold her from being able to transport.

  Strangely, it had done the opposite.

  Perhaps that was the key.

  “Why don’t you see if we can try this?”

  Dillon smiled. “I think it’s safest. That way when we do transport, I don’t have to worry about you sending us someplace dangerous.”

  “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to stay with me.”

  “I told you I would get you somewhere safe.”

  “Why help me?” As she watched him, she thought it wasn’t so much that he was helping; it was that he was willing to work with her to help her understand this ability, too. He had no reason to do so. If anything, he had every reason to abandon her, to leave her behind and let her stumble through this and figure it out on her own. And it wasn’t that she thought she couldn’t figure it out. She suspected that with enough time—and with access to those who could travel like this—she would be able to do so. But it also involved practice, and without knowing who else could travel, she wouldn’t be able to practice as well as she wanted.

  “When I was first learning about my ability, someone helped me.”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. Like I said, let me help you figure this out.”

  She took a deep breath. “What do you think we should do first?”

  Dillon looked around. “It’s wide open here. We can practice in small steps, and it should be relatively safe. It’s the kind of place where I learned.”

  “What do you propose we try?”

  “First I would suggest we see if you can control how you push and pull me.”

  That was something she thought she understood, however slightly. When the nausea had come, she had been aware of it, and when she had pushed it down, that was when they had ended up in the wrong place. When she had pulled the nausea toward her—something that was far stranger for her to have done—it had controlled where Dillon had traveled.

  “Let’s try it.”

  “Focus on pushing me across the clearing,” he said.

  She nodded, staring off into the distance. With her enhanced eyesight, it was easy enough for her to make out what was out there, and she waited for the nausea to start, the colors starting to swirl around Dillon, and then she pushed that nausea. She tried to push it in a specific direction, though she wasn’t sure she was effective. When she had done it before, she had pushed it down.

  As the nausea disappeared, Dillon emerged a hundred yards from her.

  It had worked.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d pushed nausea away. She had done it in the tower, and she’d wondered why there wasn’t anyone else there. Could she have been doing it then? Could she have been pushing the blacksmith and Lorren away from her? If so, she had somehow saved herself without even knowing what she was doing.

  And then out on the street, when she had finally managed to escape from the tower, she had done the same thing. It was possible that was Lorren and the blacksmith, but it was also possible it was Dillon, coming to try to help her.

  Nausea started to work through her, and this time, she pulled on it, drawing it toward her. She cut off about midway, wondering if she could direct how far she was pulled, and Dillon appeared about fifty yards from her.

  It had worked.

  When the nausea came again, this time she pushed to her right and gave a stronger force to it, trying to send him farther than she had before. She slammed it away from her, and as the colors swirled around him, she could feel as he drifted away from her.

  That was different than before.

  Why should she be able to feel him drift away from her?

  Dillon cried out. He was several hundred yards away, far enough that he looked small, and he leaned down, his hands gripping his thighs, panting.

  Nausea rolled through her again. This time she pulled, drawing it all the way to her.

  When it cleared, Dillon was once more in front of her, panting heavily.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep at this. It’s hard enough for me to transport when it’s just me, and I’ve already brought you wherever it is that we are. Now it’s almost like I’ve been fighting.”

  “Do you resist when I’ve pushed and pulled?”

  Dillon straightened, leaning back and locking his hands behind his back. “I don’t know that I’m fighting intentionally, but it’s such a strange sensation I don’t know what else I could be doing.” He looked over at her, arching a brow. “Do you have a better sense of what you’re doing?”

  She sighed. “I think I was able to control it somewhat, but I’m not sure I have enough control not to be a risk to you.”

  “Does it weaken you?”

  She didn’t think it did. It didn’t seem any harder each time she tried it, not the way she had heard others describe their abilities. Then again, when it came to her vision and her hearing and listening, there hadn’t been anything like that, either.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I guess that’s good.”

  It was strange that it wouldn’t weaken her. She didn’t have as much experience with blessings as others, but what she’d seen working with the Great One had shown her that those who had various blessings did have some limitations. They weren’t able to use them extensively before growing tired. It had been described to her in the past as if the person were running. The more they ran, the easier it became for them to run longer distances at a greater speed.

  “Can we try again?”

  “We can, but I need to rest.”

  Ryn looked around the landscape. There was nothing here, and if Dillon decided to rest, there would be nothing for her to do.

  Dillon made his way over to a nearby cluster of trees and took a seat, with his back against a tree trunk. He leaned back, closing his eyes, clasping his hands over his stomach. When he sat like that, she thought him younger, at least young enough he could be only a few years older than her. There were other times when she found it much more difficult to know how old he was.

  Ryn paced, looking around, weaving between the trees as she did. Her mind raced, struggling to figure out what she should be doing. All of this was challenging to her. She was now outside of the city that the Great One had wanted her to observe, well beyond the borders of the tower, and now that she was here, she didn’t know whether she could even get word to the Great One. If she couldn’t, how would the Great One respond?

  She’d seen the look on his face when others had disappointed him, the mixture of sadness and irritation, and she didn’t want that for herself.

  “You can take a seat next to me.”

  She glanced down at Dillon. “I’m just thinking.”

  “You’re making me tired.”

  “By walking?”

  “It’s not so much that you’re walking. You look agitated.”

  Ryn shrugged. “Perhaps I am.”

  “Which is why you need to take a seat.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t be able to get anything accomplished by doing that.”

  “You can rest. After everything you’ve been through, don’t you want to rest?”

  After everything she’d been through, she wanted nothing more than to finish her assignment.

  Slowly she made her way back to Dillon and took a seat next to h
im. He rested his head back against the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes, and soon his breathing began to slow. Ryn took one of the books out of her pocket, looking through the pages as she read through observations made in the time she’d been working with the Great One. It hadn’t been all that long, and yet she had seen quite a bit in the time since she had started working with him.

  As she read through her notes, she couldn’t help but think about what Dillon had said. She didn’t think the Great One was responsible for what had happened to Dillon’s home, but at the same time, she didn’t know who was.

  It was strange that he viewed Lareth as something other than the monster she knew him to be.

  What had Dillon said? Two sides to a story.

  As much as she hated to agree with him, she couldn’t help but recognize the value in what he said. It was all part of what the Great One wanted her to know. Observing something meant trying to look at it from all angles. In order to fully document what she experienced, she needed to have insight she couldn’t gain by seeing it from one side and not the other.

  Even if she disagreed with him, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t listen, perceive things from her own vantage, and add those observations into what she witnessed.

  Ryn continued to flip through the pages. Everything stopped when she reached the tower. Some of her notes were here, comments she had made about what she had observed when she’d first reached the tower, the things she had seen and the people she’d spoken to. At the time, she’d not recognized the danger the blacksmith and Lorren had posed. If she had, would she have been able to avoid this?

  She might’ve played things are little differently. She’d been too blunt.

  Sitting back, making a few notes on the page, she documented what had occurred in the time since she had left the tower. She left nothing out, including her conversation with Dillon. There was no point in excluding anything. All observations were beneficial, and when she came back to them later to review them, she might see them in a different light, especially when taken as part of a greater experience.

  Dillon began to snore.

  She watched him, smiling to herself. If she were to be dependent upon his abilities, she would be limited by his strength and weakness. It seemed he did have some limitations, regardless of how much he claimed to have worked with his traveling. If that was the case, she would need to be careful with how much she practiced. Her first goal was to get word to the Great One, and then they could practice. Until then, she needed to be less concerned about how this new ability would work for her.

  While thinking of it, Ryn began to document her observations of her new ability, too. She added that to everything else, and when she was done, she set down her pen, closing the notebook.

  Strangely, there was a surprising comfort in simply sitting here. There was no danger out here, at least not acutely, and she couldn’t deny how peaceful it felt to simply sit out in the shade, a warm breeze blowing through, twisting her hair, and someone who had been friendly to her sitting next to her.

  For a moment, she was able to think back to what it had been like before Vuahlu had been destroyed.

  But only for a moment.

  Nausea rolled through her, the sense of someone traveling, and she stuffed her notebook back into her pocket and turned to Dillon to wake him. Regardless of how tired he was, they might not have time for him to get much rest.

  31

  Ryn

  The city of Lexa spread out before them. It had taken a long time to reach it, and Ryn had a growing sense of agitation with each passing moment. In order to get word to the Great One, they needed to act quickly, which had prompted her to force Dillon to travel much faster—and farther—than he wanted.

  They had paused from time to time during their travel to Lexa, and each time they did, Dillon would quickly fall into a deep slumber. She allowed him to rest as long as it was safe. Ryn had taken to keeping guard over him while he slept, all the while looking around and focusing on the sense of nausea that might warn her of someone traveling toward them.

  Each time she felt it—and was certain it wasn’t coming from Dillon—she pushed it away. She didn’t even consider where she was pushing it, knowing it didn’t matter. All that counted was that they bought time.

  It continued to work. For some reason, her pushing away that nausea seemed to keep others from traveling to them, and while she knew there would be limits to how long she could do it, she was determined to maintain their safety. When the sense of nausea came with increasing waves, suggesting there was more than one person attempting to travel to them, she would wake Dillon, and they would travel.

  He needed far more sleep than he’d managed so far, and she worried that she was pushing him too hard. Part of it was selfish. If he grew too tired to offer her any assistance, then she’d have to worry about what her attackers might do. She had no idea who they were, or whether they were even with the blacksmith and Lorren. There remained the possibility that it was the Great One and others with him.

  “Where are we?” Dillon asked. His voice was weak and his words slurred. He sounded as if he had been drinking too much ale.

  He didn’t have much left in him. Ryn was thankful they’d reached Lexa. It was a place she’d been before, and generally safe, though it had been the better part of a year since she’d visited. It was close enough to Dreshen and where the tower and the blacksmith were, but far enough away it should still be under the Great One’s control.

  What would she do if it wasn’t?

  She tried not to think about that, or about the fact that she no longer knew who to trust. She trusted the Great One, and as they continued to travel, she found herself beginning to trust Dillon more and more, especially given how hard he was pushing himself on her behalf.

  “It’s called Lexa.”

  “Lexa?” He lifted his head, straining to open his eyes, as if the light was too bright for him. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It’s quite a bit south of where we were.”

  “How do you know of it?”

  “I’ve visited before.”

  Dillon could only grunt, and even with that, he barely got the sound out. He wasn’t going to be able to travel the rest of the way to Lexa.

  Ryn slipped her arm around his waist, keeping him upright, and they started walking. She was tired too, and yet she refused to allow herself to drift off. Every time they had stopped, she had forced her eyes open, straining to keep awake, and the effort of that had begun to wear on her.

  As the city grew closer, the palace at the heart of it drew her in. It was different than the temple in Dreshen. The palace was all pale white stone, intricately carved cornices, sculptures that were staggered along with peaks. It was hundreds of years old, and she remembered the awe that had filled her when she had first come here. She and the Great One had spent the better part of a month here, long enough that she had come to know the palace and the people within it. It was as safe as any place they might go.

  They reached the wide road leading into the city. There were other people out, and as the day grew longer, the sun dipping down, she was thankful they had a place to end their travels. Hopefully this would be an end for now. If not, where would she go?

  Lexa was a wealthy city. It was a place of heavy trade, situated in between a nexus of roads that led to various parts of the world, and it brought peoples from all over through the borders of the city. Through her tired eyes, she noted the dress of a dozen different places, her mind naming them briefly, still observing the way the Great One had taught her. Regist. Inlar. Neeland. Grovl. Kresh.

  Ryn pushed those thoughts out of her mind. It did her no good to continue to think about the various peoples. She had to focus on the palace. And as she neared it, there was a heavy presence of guards. Most of them wore dark jackets and pants, and at least in that they were familiar. They were the markers of the Ai’thol. Many of them bore the scars of the older style of implant. What she needed was someone she
recognized.

  Unfortunately, she hadn’t been a part of the Ai’thol long enough to recognize anyone. More than that, she had served as the Great One’s emissary and hadn’t remained in any one place for any extended period of time. She hadn’t gained the knowledge and experience to know these people all that well.

  “We’re going there?” Dillon asked.

  Ryn slowed, putting her back up against a building. The smooth stone was cool and slightly damp. From here, she could peer along the street, look at the palace rising up on a hillside across from her, and consider how she was going to approach. She had her markers of the Ai’thol, but she realized that she didn’t look the same as others, and because of that, her age gave her a disadvantage.

  “That is the Palace of Nevelar. Rumor has it that the Nevelar family used to rule in Lexa long ago. Eventually they lost favor, and the palace turned over multiple times before we took control.”

  “We?”

  Dillon looked up at her, blinking. As the moments passed, he seemed to be regaining his strength. That was good, as they might need it to get into the palace. She could use it to find the help she needed. If he could travel across the borders, from there she could reach one of the higher-ranking Ai’thol, find one of the disciples, and get word to the Great One.

  “The Ai’thol. The city was poorly run prior to the Ai’thol presence. We provided stability where there had been lawlessness. We provided organization where there had been none. Now there is prosperity here.”

  Dillon shook his head. “What if your people didn’t do any of that?”

  “You would accuse me of lying?”

  “Not you, but did you see this yourself?”

  “Well, no—”

  “I thought you were trained to observe.”

  “I am. And I have observed the stability and coordination within the city. It’s a place of peace.”

  “Or a place of fear.” Dillon straightened and looked around. “There isn’t any energy here.”

  “Energy?”

  “There’s a vibrancy to a city. When it’s alive, you can feel it. It’s as if the city itself has its own sort of life to it. This place is cold, almost sterile. The people here go about their day, but can you say they do so with any real zeal?”