Saving The Dark Side Book 2: The Harbingers

by Joseph Paradis

  “Dead,” Cole said, jerking his head towards the bonfire.

  Milette nodded to herself as if it only made sense. “Are you going to kill me or not?”

  “That depends,” Cole said, ignoring the odd glances she cast up and down his figure. “Were you going to kill me?”

  “I didn’t plan on it, but Traci would have,” she said as her eyelids began to sag.

  Groaning, Cole bit down on his cheek again, stifling the Rage. “Would you have stopped her?”

  “No.” Milette’s voice was soft now as the remaining color fell from her face, giving her a gaunt, transparent look.

  Cole kept his eyes closed, breathing deeply. Should he kill her too? It would be too easy; all he would have to do is stop fighting himself. The Rage would do it for him. Assuming she was telling the truth, Milette would not have killed him directly, but surely under Traci’s tutelage she would have grown into a monster herself. Monster. That’s what Traci had called him. It was a fitting name for this part of himself. Cole took savage pleasure in his Rage, but this murder would be his choice, not the magic.

  With a final, calming exhale, Cole released the Rage entirely. The air was oddly chilled, and he realized why Milette had been giving him odd looks. The fire had completely burned away his cloth armor and he was now fully naked. His momentary embarrassment subsided as Milette collapsed. Now that he had decided not to kill her, he felt responsible for keeping her alive. He knew there was no way for him to use Passion to heal her, as there was nothing he could use to link any sort of love to her. He instead called Wisdom to his aid.

  Cole felt the flames creeping through the grass, finding no trace of the Hatred. The dark magic must have died along with Traci. He flexed his bare hands as an emerald glow spread from his palms, and he felt the potential of the angry little flames. Two thin wires of flame twisted and twirled themselves away from the burning grass. With his wobbly guidance, they snaked through the air and found Milette’s clean-cut stumps. Her eyes snapped open, the pain reviving her for a moment. She thrashed and struggled. There was no way he could guide the flames over her flailing arms, so he used his remaining focus to increase the gravity on her stumps. She fell back as her arms slammed flat against the ground. He rushed the flames to her wounds, searing the top inch of flesh. Milette released a weak cry and stopped struggling entirely. Cole swayed drunkenly, releasing his spells and regaining his mental acuity.

  “What have you done?” Milette whispered with what little breath she had left. “Must you torture me first?” Her chest rose and fell in a sharp rhythm as tears raced into her ears.

  “I’m saving your life,” Cole said, swallowing back the guilt. “I might regret it, but I’m letting you live.”

  Her only response was weak, squeaky panting.

  What was he doing? He was no judge. Nor was he an executioner. How had he come to find himself as an arbiter of justice to this alien woman? She was likely much older and wiser than he was. Not one year ago Cole was fumbling through high school and failing basketball tryouts.

  Cole found a modicum of confidence amongst his anxious guilt, projecting his voice so that he at least sounded braver than he felt. “Your wounds will remind you of this day, what it cost to take what you had no right to. You may not have known what Traci was going to do, but you had a pretty good idea.” Cole crouched down next to her and placed his palm on her forehead. “I’ll show you exactly what you were about to take part in.”

  Cole used his thumbs to open her eyes as he stared into them. He would force his thoughts into her mind, burn them to the walls of her skull so that every time she recalled this moment she would see them. It was a form of Passion that Alvani had only shown him once, and he wasn’t sure he could wield it. Guessing his way through the magic, he forced his knowledge of the Devotion, the towers, the soul flies, and finally Storn’s death. He knew the magic was working when he felt the implanted memories echoing back to him. Even in her weakened state Cole could tell she was much more adept with Passion than he was. The exchange was only possible because she permitted it. Should she turn her mind on him, he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance. After she accepted his knowledge, she poured some of her own back into him, ensuring that Cole knew without a doubt that she had been telling the truth. With a final impression, she gave her solemn guarantee that she would never harm a soul fly for personal gain. Flashes of her soul winked into his mind. The exchange was as revealing as it was intimate. Cole knew she was not a good person, but neither was she inherently evil.

  Cole severed the mental link, taking his palm from her forehead and placing it on her chest. “Here. This will help.” Rosy light flowed from his fingers into her breast. He knew enough about her now to provide at least some of his Passion. “It won’t bring your hands back, but you’ll recover in a few hours.”

  Milette gasped, taking the healing energies into herself as her breath slowed. After Cole took his hand away, a little moan escaped her trembling lips as her face slackened with sleep. Cole stood, kicking dirt over the flames that had crawled too close. What had he just done?

  “Well that was right sweet of you, warrior.” Roth’s voice startled him from behind. Cole wondered how long he had been standing there. “What have you learned?”

  Cole shifted in the dirt, trying to angle his legs and hands to preserve some of his modesty. “I…I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell I just did.”

  Roth circled around him, stepping through the burning grass, the flames tall enough now to lick his unarmored parts. “Look at the facts. You found two Aenerians setting themselves to commit a crime against nature. Your task was to stop them. You stumbled down the hill, introduced yourself like a fine young gentleman, then after a fair bit of dancing around you finally decided to start on your task.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I should kill them or not!” Cole blurted. “I’m not going to end a life just on someone’s word, not even yours. For all I know-”

  Roth was suddenly right in front of Cole, spraying him with dirt. “Clap that mouth shut before I close it for you.” Cole jumped back a pace, singeing his naked rear on the burning grass. “Now, after you started your task you crippled your first opponent, leaving her alive and possibly able to retaliate. Then you set upon your second opponent and immediately fell prey to Grotton’s magic. You know perfectly well that Grotton’s Hunger is the perfect counter to Rage, a magic that you rely upon like a child clinging to his favorite blanket. Her lure of Hunger will likely be the weakest attempt you will ever encounter, so you had better put up a damn fight next time. Don’t forget yourself. Don’t forget Storn.” He jabbed the flat of his knuckle into Cole’s chest, bruising him.

  Cole winced, shameful tears filling his eyes as he bit his lip. He’d never felt so embarrassed, so disgusted in himself, so…dirty. He turned and tried to cover more of his nakedness with his sooty hands.

  “If the act wouldn’t have ruined the best parts of your soul, I would have let you destroy that soul fly so you could see what it felt like to ruin the life of another. Besides the shame of it, giving in to the lure of Hunger would have bound you to a magical contract with that hag. You would have been hers, forever. There would have been a measure of power no doubt, probably make you too hot for even me to handle. But when the power eventually faded the Hunger would have bloomed from the ashes and clawed at your insides, making that much easier to justify doing it again. You would’ve started down a path from which there is no return, a slave to Grotton all the while.” Roth’s voice lowered, sounding slightly less like an avalanche of blame. “Look at me. You know what you did. I won’t harp on it, just do better next time. Don’t rely too much on Rage and you’ll do just fine. Your Passion and Wisdom will be all happy to protect you from the Hunger.”

  “Thank you, Master Roth,” Cole sniffed.

  Roth grunted his approval. “So, after you shamed me, I interrupted you.” Roth’s face changed from one of stony disappointment to fiery humor. “Then you made me more p
roud than any student ever has. You broke my damn arm!” He growled with laughter, munisica clanking off his shrouded thigh. “A fitting response, eh? I can’t remember how many times I threatened to break your arms.”

  A smile pulled at Cole’s mouth. “You rarely threaten us, Master Roth. You’ve broken my arms twice before.”

  “At least you learned that much.” Roth steadied his booming laughter and looked towards the remains of the house. “So you nearly pull my arm off, an admirable feat, but it allowed your opponent to escape. She would have too if I hadn’t worked some sense into you. You find her, kill her, then make your way back out here to your first opponent. Instead of dispatching her like you should have, you spare her life, even heal her a bit.”

  “I couldn’t do it.” Cole looked over at Milette’s unconscious form. “I don’t want the Rage making those choices for me. It doesn’t seem right.”

  One of Roth’s bladed eyebrows curved up. “Then use a bit of Wisdom to get the job done. This is war, boy. We have whole oceans of enemies out there. If we take our time sweet-talking every single one we’ll never gain any ground. Anyone using the Three’s magic has already identified themselves as an enemy, plain and simple. How many more dead friends do you need before that sinks in?”

  Cole nodded, shame mixing with defiance. He understood what Roth was saying, but he definitely didn’t agree with it.

  Roth sniffed, as though smelling Cole’s feelings. “You spent nearly half an hour fighting these two. Time better spent traveling to Morthain. Personally, I would have just sent a rock through each of their heads and been done with it. But this is your lesson, not mine, and it’s not over.”

  Cole’s eyes widened. “It’s not?”

  “Not by a long shot,” Roth said, lip curling in a half smile that did not reach his eyes. “Now, seeing as you decided not to kill her, you’ve earned yourself a prisoner. And I’d wager she’ll be a good shade of pissed off with you once she wakes up and realizes she’s never going to wipe her own ass again. So warrior, what are you going to do with your prisoner?”

  After finding some child-size garments in one of the nearby houses, Cole clothed himself and extinguished the fire from the house and surrounding grass. Roth had ordered Cole to put out the fire and cover their tracks, stating plainly that this was Cole’s mess and he had better figure out how to clean it up. At first Cole tried suffocating the fire by throwing dirt over it, but the fire had spread to such a large area that he didn’t have the focus to move that much matter. He found it much easier, however, to persuade the heat to move into the ground where there was plenty of cool earth to soak it up. He silently thanked Deekus for the lesson in Wisdom.

  Once Cole had done his best to cover their tracks, he set a spell over Milette’s unconscious body, causing her to bob and float a few feet over the ground behind him. Satisfied that she was properly anchored with strands of Wisdom, Cole started off towards the edge of the village. Roth halted him, looking over the remnants of the scene. The house was still smoking and the whole place smelled like a fresh camp fire.

  “If we had the time I would make you do this yourself, but for now just watch and learn.” Roth knelt down at the border of the blackened earth and placed a naked hand on the ground. Every weed and shrub within ten paces began to writhe like snakes, spreading thousands of little seeds which sprouted instantly, creating a wave of growth that spread over the remains of the house. Within a minute the vegetation had reclaimed the entire area, making it look as though the house was never there in the first place. It smelled like spring rain.

  Roth stood, flexing his naked hand back into its usual ebony dragon claw before setting off. Cole followed with Milette in tow, looking back at the green mound and wondering where Traci’s body might be. Roth was right; he’d made a mess. They would have to travel at a much slower pace now that Cole had to maintain focus on Milette’s body, not to mention he had just cost them nearly an hour. It was all because Cole let his Rage take control, which once again almost cost him everything. He shuddered, thinking about that poor soul fly. Even through his munisica he could feel the creature’s Fear. He was all too willing to dominate and feed on the thing, all for a bit more power. His Rage caused more harm than anything else. It didn’t feel like he had mastered anything. Every time he called the Rage into himself it felt more like the magic had mastered him. Cole promised himself to never delve so fully into Rage again. He would avoid the magic altogether if he could. There had to be another way.

  Chapter 3

  The White Sands

  They cut their way through the forest, sticking to small paths and game trails to avoid running into anyone on the main roads. Roth went so far as to weave a spell over their feet that would erase their footprints as they ran. Though Cole was slowed by the mental burden of carrying Milette, Roth gave no leniency and forced them onward at a maddening pace. Cole begrudgingly called upon a measure of his Rage so he could keep up with his Master. Milette floated along behind them, fully asleep and held by Cole’s precarious webs of Wisdom. They drove on for a few hours, the sunlight growing steadily brighter all the while. To Cole’s immense relief, Roth slowed at the top of a hill, coming to a stop at a rocky outcropping that loomed over a steep cliff.

  Cole sagged, throwing his hands on his knees as he ended his own spells and placed Milette on the most comfortable bit of rock he could find. He panted, shuffling over to the edge of the cliff and gazing out at the landscape. Hundreds of feet below them were unforgiving crags and crevices that softened into a sea of white water stretching out to the horizon. He retreated half a step from the ledge. The height induced a queasiness that spread to his limbs, leaving his legs shaking and wobbly. It reminded him of his jump from the baileen, but this seemed worse as the morning light allowed him to acutely identify the many serrated and solid objects below. With a relaxing breath he quelled the dregs of his Rage and turned away from the ledge. The rising star announced itself from the forest canopy behind them, bathing the little waves below them in morning light.

  “Behold the White Sands,” Roth said. “Morthain’s out there somewhere. We’ll have to wait for the sun to rise proper before setting out. I need the stars to tell me where it is.”

  “Sands?” Cole asked, squinting under his hand. “You mean that’s not water down there?”

  Roth sat himself on a rock. “It’s sand alright. After we cross you’ll be picking it out your ears for a month.”

  “Cross it? It looks like I’d sink right to the bottom. I don’t think I could fly myself over, especially with a prisoner.” Cole glanced back, checking on Milette.

  Roth growled, “There are veins of solid ground throughout the sands. We’ll walk through just fine once we have the stars to guide us.”

  Cole squinted down at the sands again, this time making out branches of solid sand that might have been roads. “So we’re leaving Allias then. What planet are we coming to next?”

  “Dunhaven,” Roth grunted.

  “Do you know the stars of every local planet?” Cole asked.

  “All twenty-one houses. Dead useful. I learned it the hard way, but you ought to pick up a few cyphers of the star maps next time you’re at The Sill, if you can afford them that is. They’re top-shelf.”

  “Couldn’t you just give me the knowledge?” Cole asked, rubbing his feet. Not using his munisica had taken a toll on his bare soles.

  “Ha! And make it easy for you? I thought you knew my policy on handouts. No, it’s better for you to earn knowledge on your own, even if it’s taken from a cypher like a pie from the markets. Speaking of taking things you haven’t earned, how are your bones feeling?” Roth pointed with a long claw at Cole’s legs.

  Cole rubbed his forearms feeling Roth’s magic thrumming deep in the marrow. “They burn a bit, though not in a painful way. Like there’s too much energy in there. Itches like crazy sometimes. How long do you think it will last?”

  “Until your body absorbs the Rage. What you took from my
gratia stone will make you stronger and harder, but it seems to be quickening your little growth spurt, which isn’t supposed to happen mind you. I’ve seen a few humans in my day and I pegged you at near full grown when I first laid eyes on you.” He raked his eyes over Cole’s legs. “This growth is unusual, no?”

  Cole looked down and pulled his pant legs up so he could see his shins. They looked unusually lanky, as did his arms, but he just thought the gangly appearance had to do with his recent weight loss. Everyone said he was getting taller, but hearing Roth say it put a layer of concrete acceptance to it. “When I came here I was seventeen years old - seventeen of my years that is, and we stop growing at about eighteen. I’ve been here for…” He struggled, trying to grasp the concepts through the lens of the time cypher, “it’s odd, judging your time against mine. I arrived at the end of the house of Terra, then there was Pastori and Allias. From what I can tell through the cypher each house is about a third of one of my years, so I shouldn’t be growing anymore. I guess I do feel a bit taller. That would explain why I’ve been so clumsy lately.” Cole fell silent as homesickness struck him in the chest. He’d been gone for almost a year. He’d missed his birthday, and Nana Beth’s. Joshy’s birthday should be coming up too. Sullen, he looked back up to Roth’s calculating gaze. “Do you have any idea why I’m shooting up like this? Could it be some of your magic, or Oberon’s light or something?”

  “Our magic is your magic. That much you have earned,” Roth said, standing to his full height. His appraising nod filled Cole with a pride that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Oberon’s light will have an effect on you, but it won’t change your blood and meddle with nature’s intent. I have no answers for you. Perhaps when we get to Oberon Temple you can find one of Terra’s council members and pry an answer from them.”