The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  “Hey, why are you talking to her? What happened? We heard you mention the royal family,” a portly man said, his shirt nearly bursting at the seams. His face was red, his thick brows burrowing towards his nose. Questions spread discontent like wildfire, and the agitated crowd pressed in close, hoping to catch even the slightest gossip that might explain their current predicament.

  Samira glanced over her shoulder, one brow shooting towards the sky. “One moment,” she said to the Seeker, and then she turned towards the crowd. Garild felt it before he saw it, a tingling on his skin as energy was seemingly sucked out of the air around him. Samira waved her hand in front of her, a surge of energy fanning out from where her fingers trailed through the air. It buffeted the surrounding crowd with enough force to shove them all back a few steps and silence their yammering.

  The look on their faces was a mockery of Garild’s own expression. He turned his head slowly, heart pounding in his chest. Samira caught his eye and smiled, eyes twinkling with mischief. He couldn’t form words, too distraught to say anything coherent. “Thank you for your silence,” Samira said to the crowd, giving them a mock bow, and then she turned back to the Seeker. “Now then, you were saying?”

  The Seekers were on guard, hands raised and ready to confront the threat that was before them. Before any words could be exchanged, a shrill voice rose from the startled crowd, igniting panic and spreading it like the plague. “S-she’s one of them!” the woman exclaimed, pushing her way to the back of the crowd. “Zekar save us!”

  Other voices joined hers, insults and prayers flung to the sky with careless abandon. People pushed and shoved, some trying to run away while others sought to pin Samira and Garild in place, a living barricade moving to push them into the Seekers. One of the Seekers moved to contain the crowd, while the others turned their full attention to Samira.

  “Everyone back!” the Seeker hollered, waving his arms around as he tried to push back the crowd. “We’ve got this under control! Step back!”

  The Seeker nearest Samira cautiously took a step forward. “We don’t need this kind of trouble, not from someone like you. These people are scared and concerned citizens. If you don’t stand down, there will be problems and we’ve enough of those right now as it is.”

  “You look scared, Seeker. Afraid your men won’t be able to take me into custody?”

  “Make a wrong move, so much as twitch your hand, and we’ll hit you with everything we have. Understood?”

  Samira wrinkled her nose. “It wouldn’t be much, I think. Oh well, lead us away. Put on a good show if it pleases you. And don’t forget my assistant!”

  The Seeker roughly grabbed Samira by the arm and hauled her past his companions. Another stepped to Garild, putting a hand to his back and guiding him away from the crowds. He must have sensed how stunned he was for the Seeker leaned towards him. “Didn’t know that about your lady, I take it?”

  “N-no,” Garild stammered. What the hell are you planning Samira?

  They were escorted down the docks and towards a rough stone path that wound its way up the cliffside to Val’shar. Garild looked longingly at a pulley system used to hoist trade goods up to the city and the Seeker huffed. “Yeah, you wish. Unlucky for us, we get to walk with you.”

  And walk they did. The path was steep and rough, the stones uneven and jagged. Several times he caught his foot on a loose stone and almost face planted in the dirt. His own breathing was ragged, the exertion burning his lungs. Too long he’d spent cooped up. Too long he’d spent hunched over books and stuck on a ship. While his mind had been trained, his body had fallen into disuse and he was feeling it more than ever. He’d gotten lazy and now he’d pay for it.

  “Having trouble, assistant?” Samira called over her shoulder, a tinge of amusement coloring her words.

  “Shut up,” he growled. The force of his words sent him into a fit of coughs, and he had to stop to catch his breath.

  The Seeker at his shoulder chuckled. “Is it all flat where you’re from?”

  “I’ve been stuck on a ship for quite some time, so yes.”

  “You can tell us all about it when we question you, er, her. You’re just her assistant, but mayhap you can help solve the mystery of what we felt and saw back there.”

  Samira snorted. “It’s no mystery, love. You’ve got powers, surely you can feel mine. Does it alarm you?”

  The Seeker at her side shook his head. “Just shut it. As far as we’re concerned, you’re a threat to this city.”

  “How is the matriarch these days, the old crone? Very near to dying, I hope. She’s caused quite a fuss around the world.”

  “She’s dead,” the Seeker said dryly. “So, with that, I hope you can see that things here are just a bit unstable. It doesn’t help we’ve got people like you running around flinging their powers about because they feel they can and a group of fanatic Raven worshippers running through the streets rounding them up and butchering them.”

  “Sounds like they took over your job,” she mused.

  “Enough!” the Seeker bellowed. “Keep your damned lips sealed! Save your words for the Warden. I’m sure she’ll love what you have to say, but I sure as hell don’t.”

  The matriarch of the royal family was dead. Had Kirheen had something to do with it? The timing was suspicious, her arrival in the city seeming to herald all sorts of strange happenings. If those with powers felt freed from their bonds, if word had spread that the royal family was weakened, chaos would likely ensue. Blood would be shed. More people would die. And they were right in the middle of it, grasping at a string and tugging until they could see what unraveled. Dangerous. Stupid. And yet, he needed to be there, to see it with his own eyes. He needed to see Kirheen, to understand what he’d felt inside her mind in those brief moments before Samira had kicked him out.

  Val’shar was a whirlpool, pulling them closer and closer to chaos, and Kirheen had been no more immune to its lure than he’d been. But will any of us make it back out?

  By the time they reached the upper levels of the city, Garild’s legs were burning as if they’d been set on fire by the sun itself. His lungs ached, his muscles crying for relief. Level ground felt like a blessing and he thanked the Allseer for the small respite from his uphill battle. How many merchants had made that trek carrying boxes and pulling wagons of trade goods? And there he was, a youth gasping for air like a dying fish.

  “Welcome to Val’shar,” the Seeker next to him said. “You going to make it?”

  “Shut…up,” Garild wheezed, bent over, his hand planted firmly on his knee. He turned his attention to his surroundings, anything to ignore the burning in his lungs. They’d entered into a street lined with roughly constructed buildings. Wooden structures were accented with stone and mud. The entire length of the street had an earthy, wild feel to it, as if the buildings had sprouted out of the ground itself instead of having been put there. The scholar in him was fascinated. This was the district dedicated to Ignis, child of Zekar and Riel, the god of dust, and earth, and stone. It had been so different reading about it and actually seeing it. Whatever Val’shar was now, its history couldn’t be so easily erased. This was a city built for the gods, in reverence of them. He could see it in every stick and stone.

  “Strange, isn’t it? Riel herself has been cast out, her sanctuary burned, and marred, and smeared off the map. But her children yet live in this city, though I sense even their reign here will soon come to an end,” Samira sighed, her eyes soaking in the earthen hues. She looked at home in such a place, as if she herself had been crafted from the same dirt, the same wood, chiseled from the same stone. “To be forgotten.”

  “Let’s move,” the Seeker next to Samira grunted. “We’ve got places to be. Just watch your backs and keep your ears open. Trouble is flying and you’ll hear it coming.”

  “Beware the birds,” the other Seeker huffed, glancing over his shoulder.

  They continued down the road, the only sound the shuffling of their foot
steps. Garild began to feel uneasy, a strange feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. His eyes trailed to the nearby buildings. Many of them were quite spacious, built for holding wares. Others were small, simple dwellings tucked away, their larger brethren nearly blocking them from sight. He cast a cautious glance at every window they passed, expecting to see a pair of eyes staring back but there was no one there.

  The street dipped down, the stones uneven. He kept close watch over his footing, afraid of catching some stray chunk of stone and ending up sprawled in the dirt. He was so distracted that he didn’t hear the sound at first. It was distant, indecipherable, the roaring of far off thunder. His steps slowed as the sound became louder, closer, more distinct. “What is that?”

  The Seeker leading the way snapped to attention, motioning for them all to stop moving. “Ravens! A whole bloody flock of them by the sound.”

  “R-Ravens?”

  “Shush. Stay close and keep your head down.”

  Samira and Garild exchanged glances. They weren’t about to argue, not with the fear he could feel radiating from the Seekers. He could hear it clearly now, a cacophony of cawing, not made by animals, but by men. They ducked into a nearby alleyway and the Seeker led them to a door. “Pray to whatever god you hold dear that this door opens.”

  The Seeker twisted the doorknob and it gave way, allowing them entry into the building as the sound of a dozen men grew closer, louder. He could envision them, all dressed in black feathers, their faces covered in black masks. They shuffled inside and the Seeker closed the door behind them, shutting out the noise and the light. It took several moments before his eyes adjusted to the gloom and he staggered towards the only source of light he could find. Grimy windows looked out onto the street they’d deserted, dirty black cloth hanging over them and dimming the light filtering inside. He could feel Samira lingering near his elbow as he lifted himself up on his toes to peer outside.

  “Watch your head, kid,” the Seeker said, coming to stand nearby. The other Seeker stayed near the door, ready to spring upon any unwelcome visitors.

  “What are we hearing?” Samira asked, lifting at the edge of the dusty drapes so she could get a better view of the street.

  “Ravens. A mob, they are. When word got out that the matriarch had fallen, her own bloody executioner gathered himself a frightened populace, riled them up into a frenzy, and set them loose on the streets. They’ve been stringing up anyone with powers, even us Seekers. Nobody is safe.”

  “Mig, you mind shutting the hell up?” The Seeker next to the door grumbled. “These are our prisoners. They don’t need to know what is going on in this god forsaken city, so shut your mouth.”

  “Right, of course.”

  The sound grew loud enough to rattle the windows. He could clearly hear the stomping of feet, their loud cawing cries as they rounded the corner. They came into view and Samira let the curtain drop, taking a step back into the shadows. Garild’s vision of them wasn’t too far off. They were led by a strangely proportioned man, his limbs too long and his body too lean. A cloak fluttered around him as he walked, shredded fabric billowing in the wind. They reminded him of feathers. Several dozen people trailed after him, all dressed in black. Many wore masks, twisted and curling in various patterns. Others had taken to mimicking their leader, their torn and frayed cloaks flowing behind them. The noise was terrifying. Cawing, guttural cries, whooping and hollering, they stampeded their way down the street. As they drew closer, Garild and the others ducked down out of sight, waiting with bated breath as they passed, step by screeching step.

  After what felt like an eternity, the street fell silent.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Samira said, rising to peer out the window. “Their group is larger than I expected. Seems you’ve some trouble on your hands, Seekers.”

  “This is just the start,” Mig spat. “Whole place is falling apart.”

  “It’s difficult, isn’t it, not being in power anymore,” Samira taunted, her eyes burning her victim with scorn.

  “Enough,” the other Seeker growled. “What’s done is done. Can’t go back now. We’ve got what we’ve got to deal with and it’ll get handled, one way or another.”

  “And yet you haven’t lost your masks. It’s easier to hide, isn’t it?”

  “Mig, let’s escort our prisoners to the Warden. I’m done talking.”

  “Of course,” Mig said. “Right. Come along you two.”

  Mig stepped close, shuffling Garild towards Samira. Samira stepped back, skirting around Garild until she was shoulder to shoulder with the Seeker. Her hand rose, touched the base of his neck. “Sleep, my dear little Seeker.”

  Mig took another faltering step and then swiftly tumbled forward, his face planting into the dusty floor at Garild’s feet. “Samira, what did you do?”

  His partner was already springing into action, his arms outstretched. Power flared to life but was quickly cut off with a flick of Samira’s wrist. He stumbled, eyes rolling towards the back of his head. He landed in a puff of dust next to his partner. The room fell silent, the only sound the gentle snoring of the two Seekers.

  Garild glanced to Samira, his eyes wide. “Don’t give me that look,” she said. “We’re going to the castle, not wherever these two imbeciles were taking us. I just wanted a little information first. Let’s go.”

  She stepped over them, and Garild hurried after her. It was easy to forget how powerful Samira was. He couldn’t help but wonder how different things might have been if she’d chosen to act, to fight, to use her powers to end the type of atrocities that had happened in Val’shar.

  “Garild, you’re quiet.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “I’m not a fool. I know what you’re thinking.”

  He checked his mental walls, content to find them as strong as ever. Not that it had ever stopped Samira. “Oh? Snooping again, are we?”

  Samira spoke over her shoulder, her stride casual, as if she’d strode through the city a hundred times and was out for a simple stroll. “Why not stop this? Why not use your powers to put an end to the royal family? I certainly could have. I could have walked into that castle and broken them all with the power of my mind alone, and not a Seeker in this city could have stopped me.”

  Garild felt a familiar rage churn in his belly. “So why didn’t you? Samira, people were dying in droves. They were being slaughtered. You could have stopped it. You could have done something!”

  Her steps slowed, faltered. She turned towards him, her eyes filled with sorrow and regret, but also strength. Her wounds ran deep, but they wouldn’t kill her. Nothing would. “And where would it stop? At what point would I slip from savior to conqueror? Who am I to decide what is right for this world? I stop one conflict, another begins. The royal family falls, ravens rise to pick the flesh off their bones. Who is to say that by stepping in, by putting a stop to cruelty and injustice, that I would not become cruel myself? This is a fine line I tread, Garild. The gods saw fit to gift me a power, a curse, that allows me to solve most of my problems with the snap of my fingers. It is by luck alone that I was also given the good sense not to try and save the world with it. Do you understand? Can you possibly grasp the weight of this responsibility, this burden, to know that I wield such power, but that I am powerless to save the world with it.”

  “Have you ever tried?” Garild said, unable to help himself. Whatever warmth lurked in her gaze froze, a snap freeze blanketing the space between them. He was afraid to breath, to shatter that fragile thread binding them.

  “Once. I tried once, and I lost everything that ever mattered to me, so don’t you dare speak to me as if I have not tried, as if I have not lost, or mourned because of these powers. Your Sanctuary was but a taste of what I have suffered, so hold your tongue.”

  He did not release his breath until she’d turned away from him, until her steps carried her a far enough distance that he felt safe to follow. He trailed after her like a scolded dog, head down. Had he a ta
il it would have been tucked firmly between his legs. What did he know of what she’d been through, what it was like? If he had her powers, would he have acted any different? Would he have made another choice? No, you fool. No, you wouldn’t have.

  He wondered what she’d seen, and what she’d been before fate had intervened. He knew so little about her beyond her time in Sharmir, beyond the scholar, and the crystals in her chest.

  “Samira, you haven’t always had your powers, right?”

  “No, I haven’t,” she said, her voice low and menacing, daring him to misspeak. “Why do you ask?”

  “I want to understand.”

  “Why I made the choices I did?”

  “Amongst other things. Where are you actually from?”

  “The beautiful city of Korinth, a place where power is revered,” she said softly. “They’re not inherently bad people, but they host a very dangerous ideology not so different from here in Val’shar. Those with powers stand above all others, even at the expense of others safety and wellbeing.”

  “And someone with powers like yours… you would have been treated like a god. Is that why you left?”

  “Part of it. Can you imagine such a weapon in the hands of people who would willingly wield it? It is no secret that Korinth has their eyes set on faraway lands. They want to bring their teachings to all, their power to all. They’d drive themselves upon these shores and destroy all you know and love in their mission to purify this world, to remove the defect they see in those without powers. Trista, Barog – they would be enslaved, or worse.”

  “That’s awful. It’s not like they haven’t had the opportunity to do so. This place has been vulnerable with all the chaos. Why didn’t they bring their armies here? What’s stopping them?”

  “I am,” Samira said, her steps slowing. “As long as they know I exist, they will hesitate to push into other lands.”

  “They are that afraid of you?”

  “I gave them reason to be.”

  “Before you left. How long ago was that?”