by G. H. Duval
“Welcome, all, to the house of the Great Shepherd,” she intoned.
“Thanks be for the shelter of the Shepherd,” the assembly murmured in response.
“We thank You, Father,” the woman continued, “for all those who have come from near and far to witness the naming of Your anointed one. As we receive Your gift to all mankind, we ask for guidance, wisdom, and direction. We pray that we never veer from the path You have chosen for us.”
“May we always walk in the shadow of Your rod and staff,” responded the gathered.
“You may be seated.”
The sound of hundreds of bodies doing so issued through the Accord. As the sound subsided, another buzzing noise took its place. It sounded as if the mass gathered outside the Accord were cheering, voices carrying into the nave. Mori looked to Dodge, who only shrugged and smiled. Just wait, he mouthed.
The grey-robed woman moved to the far left of the dais, and Mori spied movement from the area obscured from view by the jade sculpture. Just when he thought he’d imagined it, Formynder Shavare and First Seer Siare cleared the shadows and moved to the position the woman had vacated. They acted for all the world as if a thousand eyes were not upon them and turned to face the woman in grey.
“Arbiter-Shepherd Ellisandra,” First Seer Siare addressed the woman, her voice carrying easily across the now-silent Accord.
“Thank you for invoking the Lord’s blessing upon us.” Ellisandra dropped into a deep curtsy; she remained silent as she rose, but her eyes went to the Formynder expectantly.
“In the eyes of our Lord and of all those gathered before us, will you consider our Candidate, Arbiter,” the Formynder asked.
Ellisandra acknowledged him with another curtsy before responding. “It is my honor to do so.”
Mori watched, breathless, as his Instructor spoke with an authority he had rarely heard, despite all their time together over the last months. This was not simply Instructor Shavare before him now. This was the Formynder—God’s Might, Protector of the Mother of Humanity, and the Commander of the Coerdan Martial Forces.
“Come forward, Candidate Mina!” the Formynder bellowed, eyes flashing blue with his Air Aspect. The entrance doors opened to reveal Mina and the Headmistress, standing with hands clasped. The sounds of the exuberant crowd outside rolled through the opening and into the quiet of the hall. Dodge nudged him, beaming, but Mori had eyes for one person and one person alone.
Mina was a revelation. She stood, shoulders back, chin up, green eyes flashing. Her auburn hair caught the wash of light, waving softly as she and the Headmistress moved through the foyer.
She wore a long gown of crushed velvet in the palest lavender, a darker violet ribbon of satin crisscrossing her bust and waist. She wore no jewelry, no ornamentation, yet she was more beautiful for it. His eyes drank in the sight of her, thirstily scanning her face for any sign of emotion. Her skin was its usual flawless cream, perhaps touched slightly here and there with color. But nothing in her face, in her eyes, or in her bearing betrayed the scrutiny she bore.
Mina paused when they reached the aisle, and the doors behind them silently swung shut as the gathering rose once more, turning to face Mina. Mori stood on legs gone numb, hands clutching the railing before him.
At a stately pace, they made their way down the aisle. When they reached the steps leading to the dais, the Formynder raised his hands, palms up—a show intended for the non-Shepherds in attendance, Mori knew. In time with the movement of his hands, Mina and the Headmistress were raised up and over the steps to be deposited gently on the dais before the Arbiter. The throng retook their seats, and Dodge had to tug at Mori’s robe before he realized he had remained standing. Abashed, he sank back into his seat.
Ellisandra bowed to the Headmistress, who released Mina’s hand and nodded respectfully to her former student.
“I present Mina au L’espri as the Candidate for succession,” the Headmistress stated, voice firm. “She awaits your search.”
Ellisandra closed the small distance to stand directly before Mina. She held her hands before her, palms open. “Do you consent to search, Mina au L’espri?”
“I do.” Mina spoke clearly, voice steady.
“And do you, Mina au L’espri, should you be found worthy, promise to take the Oath of the First Stewards?”
“I do.”
“Will you, should you be found worthy, pledge to bear no children so that you may be Mother to all humanity?”
The slightest pause. “I do.”
So brave is she! So brave, so beautiful is my Mina, thought Mori, certain he’d burst with pride.
Ellisandra’s eyes glowed, first grey, then lavender, and finally the bright pulsing violet of a Spirit Shepherd fully applied to her Aspect. Mori had only seen such power at work when he’d accompanied his mother to a Missive Station to have her messages sent home from the Coerdan outpost nearest to the Kirin border and speed delivery. That task had required only a brief working and the entire experience had been over before Mori could make much of it. But this…this went on for some time. Mina’s own eyes glowed in response—pulse for pulse.
A murmur rose from the crowd as the power moved from the dais to touch those gathered. Mori’s hairs stood on end, chills rippling across his skin, as a power he could not grasp but could not deny swirled around him. The search continued, and Mori realized he was holding his breath. With a will, he forced himself to release it—forced himself to breathe.
Stand firm, my Mina! He sent toward her. You are her match. Stand firm!
And then it was over. The power withdrew, and Mori shivered again, feeling bereft and cold. Ellisandra’s eyes dimmed and Mina’s followed suit. The Arbiter released Mina’s hands and turned to those assembled.
“She has been searched and found worthy!”
The crowd leapt to their feet, cheering and clapping. The Arbiter allowed this for a few moments before she raised her voice again.
“I present to you, the Seer in Waiting: Mina au L’espri.”
The choir broke into song as the cheers resumed.
First Seer Siare took Mina by the hand; together, they moved down the steps and into the aisle. The Formynder and the Headmistress fell into step behind them.
The crowd turned to watch the four figures moving along the aisle, their applause finally subsiding as the choir’s song rose high and full.
She comes! Bearing our burdens, our loads.
She comes! Marking our paths and our roads.
She comes! Sent from the Shepherd above.
She comes! Bringer of Truth and of Love!
Once more, the doors swung open, seemingly of their own volition, and a roar swept through the sanctuary. Mori strained, leaning precariously over the railing to keep Mina in view for as long as possible. Too soon, she passed from view, moving beyond the doors. Mori turned as if to follow, but Dodge held him back.
“Not yet, I’m afraid,” he said, pointing to those seated below. “They will exit first, following behind the Firsts’ Procession, then we will be released. They will walk back to the Steading, allowing all those gathered along the route to see the Seer in Waiting—as they’ve waited all morning for a glimpse of her.”
“Oh, yes…well, of course. The nobles and such should go next. Yes.”
Mori was rambling, but he could not muster an ounce of energy to care. All he knew was that he could no longer see Mina. She was gone, making her way through the streets of the nation she would soon lead. She was gone, and he was not certain that his Mina would ever return.
Twenty-One
“Embrace your weakness, for even in your deepest frailty will I make you strong.”
–Helig Ra’d, Teachings of the Great Shepherd
Hold, Shavare instructed, bringing his Honor Guard up short as he hovered high above the town of Chen-yei. He held aloft Chama, Falmouth, and Kastel—his Fire, Earth, and Water Shepherds, respectively—while Ilmani hovered out of sight slightly ahead of them. Her long habit of
serving as scout was not something he cared to curb. He did his best to ignore the sounds of chaos coming from the city, which reached him even at this distance, for he needed his focus elsewhere. He needed just a moment more before descending into the city and stopping the carnage ensuing at the hands of those who until so recently had been under his command.
The Formynder was set apart from his fellow Shepherds more deeply than any of them could know, and he must always be deliberate in his actions. His ability to harness more than one Aspect was the most conspicuous difference, and it was the one he and every Formynder before him openly acknowledged. But what truly made him different, made him dangerous, was the fact that he had no inherent separation from his Aspects. His Aspect tethers were easily double the size and strength of his brethren, and he had no need to concentrate in order to open those tethers. Shavare’s channeling was as natural to him as breathing, and his Aspects merged with him completely.
He’d been taught early that such a joining was unique to each Formynder, and, should it be known, would be difficult for others to accept. Not only would his movements prove unsettling, but he knew from experience the few times he’d failed to maintain proper focus, that simply being himself had terrified those around him.
There were less than a dozen people on the whole of Avelare who knew the truth of him—a handful of people around whom Shavare could relax his artificially constructed barriers and simply be. Siare, of course, provided him the greatest respite and comfort. Wilha accepted him as he was. And then there was his Guard—one Shepherd of each Aspect second only to Shavare in strength and skill. As his personal guards and his preferred weapons, he did not dissemble with them. They accepted him for all his strange power and reveled in their own ability to augment him. Only one other existed who knew the real Shavare—his dearest and oldest friend: Verrider.
Shavare closed his eyes and redoubled his efforts to focus on the task at hand rather than the nearly insurmountable anger and disappointment he felt with his old compatriot. He reached for his Aspect nodes and they immediately hovered in his vision: diamond, emerald, sapphire, ruby. They pulsed their power through throbbing tethers and sang their approval into his very bones.
Act! They urged, sensing his need to both protect and destroy. Go! Let us go now!
He ignored their urgings as he did the screams from below. Instead, he sent his own imperatives into the nodes, instructing them to seek their counterparts in the errant Shepherds terrorizing Chen-yei.
It took only the count of two breaths before he felt his nodes snap into place, locking onto the thin, corrupted tethers of his lost Shepherds. He focused first on Cenia, the au Feur, for he sensed she was causing the most damage. Already connected to the tethers of each member of his Guard, he tugged at Chama’s tether and tied it to Cenia’s.
That is your assignment, he told Chama, who accepted the corrupted tether with a grunt. As soon we touch ground, you find her and do whatever must be done to subdue her. Chama frowned, clearly disgusted, but nodded resolutely.
He repeated the process—pairing Tesk to Kastel, Nika to Ilmani, and Palin to Falmouth—before bringing his soldiers down through the clouds toward the city. He sent Chama and Kastel away from him some ways, depositing them closer to their targets. Ilmani sped off toward Nika directly and Shavare withdrew from her completely, knowing she needed nothing more from him. He kept Falmouth close as he moved toward the center of the town, where he sensed Palin.
He is mad, Fal. Completely mad, he warned his au Terre guard. But strong, nonetheless. I fear what he’ll do when confronted and want you nearby.
They came within feet of the ground and Shavare released his hold on Falmouth. Together, they slammed into the ground, each bending into a crouch, and the earth rippled slightly around them, responding to their combined pull on their Aspect as they cushioned their fall.
They were met with a cacophony of noise and chaos. Debris littered the ground where buildings had broken from Palin’s shaking of their foundations and dust filled the air. Confused cries from Chen-yei’s suddenly beleaguered people battered against Shavare’s augmented hearing, landing as viscerally as blows. A steady stream of those fleeing moved around him and Falmouth, many cringing as they recognized these figures as Coerdan, and Shavare cursed.
We are too late, he thought, but Siare contradicted him. He reached for her where she rode within his mind, ensuring she saw what he did—took in the full devastation underway.
We anticipated this, love, she reminded him. Have faith in me…I am not quite through yet.
He glanced to the skies where the dozen Spirit Shepherds Siare had sent were secreted, protected by four au Cieles he had personally selected for this mission. Bolstered by her confidence, he nodded and said no more.
Shavare scanned the area for innocents, looking for anyone injured who needed immediate attention. At once, he spotted a man pinned partially beneath a large fragment of fallen stone. A woman wailed as she helplessly attempted to dislodge it, but no one stopped to aid her. The man appeared pale and was not moving; Shavare suspected he would soon lose consciousness if he had not already.
“There,” he called to Falmouth, pointing in the man’s direction. Falmouth, like Shavare, held talents across more than one Aspect Calling of his affinity—one of the many reasons the man had been called to serve the Formynder directly—and his skill in healing was unmatched. The debris atop the poor man would also be of no consequence in the face of Falmouth’s strength. “See to them while I locate Palin.”
Falmouth sped off toward the injured man. Shavare turned on his heel and moved where his tether led him, expecting Palin to come into view at any moment. After only a few steps, he felt an odd tingling along his Aspect tether, like the tentative touch of a butterfly against the skin. He shivered and reached for Siare, but before he could even form the question, her mind’s touch moved along his tether, following the other.
What is that? She mused, intrigued but not alarmed. Ignore it for now, she told Shavare. It is a conscious mind that follows you, and I do not wish to alert it that we’re aware of it. It is such a strange presence…
As Siare was more than capable of looking after his flank, Shavare simply did as she suggested. He ignored this new development and redoubled his speed toward Palin. He was only moments away, but Shavare felt his former brother in arms pull on their shared Aspect, preparing for a strike. Palin was of the Concussive path and could devastate an area in seconds.
Shavare would not give him those seconds. With his node connected to Palin’s, Shavare siphoned some of their Aspect’s power away from Palin. Enough to slow him. Enough to enrage him. Shavare heard the man bellowing from one street over, followed by the sounds of breaking and tearing. It seemed he’d resorted to tearing things apart with his bare hands.
Shavare sent one last attempt across the tendril connecting their Aspect nodes, touching Palin’s mind. But what he found was what Siare had warned him to expect. There was naught but confusion, anger, and an alien pulsing hunger where Palin’s mind used to be.
Take it! Siare swore, and Shavare slowed, ready to change course if so directed. It’s gone. It felt me, I suspect.
Should I pursue? He asked.
No. I’d rather you not confront it until we know more.
He nodded out of habit, as if she were standing beside him, and rounded the final corner. Palin was in even worse condition than Shavare expected. His clothes were filthy, torn, and his skin was covered in grime. He’d clearly not been seeing after his most basic needs. Shavare saw no vestige of the perpetually tousled blonde hair of the young man he’d known. Only thick matted locks remained. What he saw now was a…thing. An abomination.
I’m so sorry, Brother, he sent to the creature, knowing full well the words were for him and not Palin. We’ll bring you home. And you will know peace again.
The creature had not yet noticed Shavare, focused as it was on a terrified group of Kirin who were too overwhelmed with fear to even
attempt to flee past the horrid Coerdan before them. There was a tug on his Earth Aspect, and the creature’s muscles bulged as it raised what was left of a broken wagon above its head. With a bellow, he launched it at those huddled before him.
Shavare sent a sharp burst of power through his emerald node, and the wagon exploded into a cloud of particles. Another burst of power through his diamond node, and even the cloud dissipated.
The creature cocked its head, turning finally to find the source of interference. For the briefest moment, Shavare was certain he saw the flash of recognition. Then it was gone, and a frothing, screaming Palin ran at him.
Jaw clenched, Shavare choked back sobs, but he welcomed the pain of his grief as he received Palin’s charge. The least he could do was allow his heart to break. He owed Palin that. He bent his knees, keeping them soft as he absorbed the blow of Palin’s putrid body into his own. He grunted as they slammed together, his muscles flexing around the creature, bulging with the power of Earth pulsing through him.
The thing that was Palin tried to tear at him, but Shavare pinned his arms at his sides, and it resorted to trying to bite him. Foul breath assaulted him and spittle flew into his eyes.
“Shhh…” Shavare whispered, his throat closed with pain, tears flowing openly. He siphoned Palin’s Aspect from him until the corrupted and sickly node held the barest glow. Even while he did so, he brought his own strength to bear, squeezing the mortal life from this man who was, to Shavare, barely more than a child. “Shhh…”
The creature’s thrashing grew weaker and weaker, grunts and moans and whines the only messages left for its former Commander. Shavare sobbed openly now, and another second passed. And another. Shavare squeezed even harder, praying for Palin’s strength to give way, for this to end. With his next squeeze, he heard the final crack of the creature’s spine. With a violent cough of dark blood, it went slack in his arms.
