by M A Price
Idyn raked a hand across one of the blades on his waist.
“Camrin is a complicated man and what’s happened is…difficult for him. This…” he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, the hesitance evident “…situation and you being here is not easy for anyone that knew her, let alone may have loved her,” a sadness made his shoulders droop.
“Are you talking about Elex? You said knew…”
Idyn had no chance to reply as the entrance of the tent flew open, sunshine rippling through and highlighting the mighty frame of Ivloch Youchnore, Camrin Cassidy skulking solemnly behind him. Mara couldn't help but think the only time Camrin looked like a small man, would be when he followed Ivloch.
“Elex is dead Mara,” Camrin said flatly, no emotion visible in any of his features “…Elex is dead, but before she died, she set in motion a war that can’t be stopped and for some reason left you in the centre of it and doomed us all.” Venom poured from every part of him, at both her and in the look of betrayal that he shot towards Idyn.
Ivloch sighed like a deflating balloon. “That wasn’t quite what I was going to say Cassidy…but as I said, we need to talk to you Mara.”
Mara was too busy trying to breathe and failing, a cry of horror buried in her throat.
Elex was dead. Elex was dead. Dead. Gone.
She had one friend before Elex. Tess Garby spent a summer travelling with the troupe, ignoring the protocol that she was just their hand to be ignored. It had been the best summer of a quite miserable life. Then Tess disappeared without saying goodbye or any explanation.
Elex had been kind. Mara’s first day at the Facility had been the most horrifying experience of her life. An interrogation she had no answers for. The guards had stripped her and tested the abilities she barely knew she had for hours. She had been told to hide them before, never let anyone know they existed and she had lived her life by those rules. Their cold hard approach was the opposite.
When they dressed her in the overalls and chucked her, tired, aching and bleeding on the floor in front of hundreds of other prisoners, Elex had found her. Lifted her up and stuck by her side. She had mopped the blood that fell freely from the number they had carved into the back of her neck. Taught her the basics of how life worked inside the Facility and how to accomplish some of the things the guards or The Unforgiven, wandering around in Wielder's bodies, demanded.
Elex Carter had saved her life.
“Mara, there are some things you need to know about Elex before we begin. She wasn’t quite the person you thought she was.” Ivloch’s face looked drawn and resigned.
“Mara, what do you know about The Unforgiven?”
Five - Jaxon
The palace was still on lockdown. It had been since the loss of the Tonkaran Facility.
Jaxon felt like he hadn’t had time to rest in moons, sleep was never for more than three hours, and then he was woken and marched either to the Throne Room or to stand guard outside the war council. Today was a war council day. The King and his daughter, never the remaining son, had been in there for over seven hours and every part of him was aching or painful or simply just wanted to give up and lie down.
It made him nervous, more nervous than safe to express. He couldn’t help but regret ever taking this posting.
He’d foolishly felt that in the palace, right under the King’s nose, would be the safest place to hide. A normal soldier would be fighting. Weapons could kill him. There was a Guild out there that would pay good coin for his name and whereabouts. Palace walls would be better, wouldn’t they? Safer.
Not using his abilities was beginning to hurt too. Usually he could get away, do something pointless and use up the store inside, and continue almost normally so that nobody would ever even contemplate the idea he was a Wielder. That he belonged on a list or in a Facility. A number more important than a name. Hiding and not using it at all had given his skin an ashen tone, circles of darkness under his weary eyes and he had become weak. As weak as he had been as a small boy.
For now, he could answer any concern with pleas of needing rest and over-working, but if things didn’t get back to normal soon…there was only so long he could suppress the magic inside him.
If only the presence of The Unforgiven inside the walls didn’t make normalcy seem like a distant dream.
Jaxon hadn’t noticed at first, then the rumours about Hamill Landress had begun.
The Prince was not himself; there was something inside him. He acted oddly, spoke often with a foreign tongue, some even swore he looked like a different man.
Like many he’d believed The Unforgiven to be a rumour or just an enemy from the past now vanquished. The legends of Queen Kara defeating them were a cornerstone of Brodannan history. Legends that said they would slowly return as power diminished in the people and yet grew for them. But who truly believed such nonsense?
Considering what he was, he should have known better.
To serve a king who had gone out of his way to help them return. Had given them not only the body of his son but some of his soldiers. That was even more unlikely.
King Jefferson Landress had once been a man he looked up to, idolised even, but now he terrified him. To willingly bring back the creatures that had landed his ancestors on this rock and caused so much death… Only a monster could do such a thing.
Maybe a blade through Jaxon’s heart would have been the best option for him, much better than whatever dungeon and torture would await him if Jefferson or the Unforgiven ever found truth of what was inside him. Worse if they realised what had once been on his skin. The talk of what was happening to Users and Wielders inside the facilities, how they planned to create an army perfectly ready to be taken as hosts seemed to be running through the palace, even whilst everyone outside it slept innocently in their beds, completely unaware.
The notion of a dreamless and worry-free rest certainly made him envious.
He realized his mind was wondering as Samiah, the pretty blonde guard on duty next to him, kicked him firmly in the shin. He was about to complain, tiredness always made him do so, when he noticed exactly why Samiah had hurt him.
The Queen was walking towards them. She didn’t look like she used to. When he’d first been recruited as a Palace Guard the Queen had been the thing that would play on his mind in his bunk each night, a lonely man’s company. A beautiful notion he clung to as he climbed the ranks. She was older than him, he wouldn't dare take a guess at by how much; you couldn’t exactly ask the Queen how old she was, but that hadn’t taken away her beauty.
She had always dyed her long waist-length hair a vivid purple, so unusual, but he’d loved it, that and the fact she wore what he could only imagine were the prettiest gowns that Brodanna could possibly create. He’d often wondered if a User had some form of play in the way she looked but also figured that if you were the Queen and you could use one to make yourself look the best you could; well then why the hell not? It probably wasn’t the worst place a User had ended up recently.
It was her son dying that had seemed to change her. The usual shine to her cheeks had been replaced with a frown and red rimmed eyes. When he first started to change, she had just seemed angry. The arguments between the King and Queen had raged for days. In four years, it was the only time that Jaxon had ever seen the King irate. There was nothing he could do; he had done what was best for the kingdom and she would have to deal with it and accept that sacrifices were vital.
She didn’t seem to be doing so.
He hadn’t seen her in the fifteen moons since news of Hamill’s murder had reached the gates. She walked towards him and Samiah, head held high, her maids flanking her, but her shoulders stooped in a way they hadn’t before. Her once beautiful long hair had gone, replaced with a shorter than shoulder length cut, dull purple streaked with grey. She had lost weight, her dress fit her poorly in comparison to the regal gowns from before. It was a simple yellow, a colour which seemed to not suit her at all, the colour of royal mourning or
not. She seemed to be the only one displaying such a tribute.
Arabella, one of her maids, winked as she passed. She had shared his bed on many a cold night these past few moon turns and had confessed that on hearing the news of Hamill, the Queen had screeched and yanked at her own hair and nobody could console her. They had been forced to bring in one of the leashed palace Users to force sleep on her. King Jefferson had refused to go to his wife’s chambers, even when begged.
Jaxon’s muscles relaxed as soon as the Queen and her entourage entered the council, the doors clanging shut behind them. He turned to smile at Samiah and thank her for the quick waking but all he met was a glare and a shake of the head.
“Arabella? Still?!”
“Not anymore Samiah. I would have told you.” They had always managed to be honest with each other. He hadn't even allowed Samiah near him these last moons, despite her temptations. He couldn't allow anyone to see the nightmares or cold sweats that ruled his dreams.
Six - Mara
The question felt like a trick, some kind of minefield Ivloch had lay out before her.
Idyn moved closer. Camrin’s sighs of exasperation became the only sound around them, punctuated by shouts or laughing from outside that Mara tried to block out.
“I only knew the old stories before I went into the Facility. I thought they were a myth.” Kara, her magic, the people that had caused Brodanna to be created, the idea they would return someday…stronger and more powerful. Horror stories that you whispered to children.
Tales that she listened to aptly but never considered true. To be a storyteller had been her dream, even with the travelling troupe. If she could buy her freedom and travel as they did, sharing stories from different parts of the land she would need no one else. The sort of freedom and joy that you could only dream of.
Ivloch drummed his hands on the desk, finding the only vacant spot.
“If you’ve heard the stories then you must know of the one Marked by Kara.”
Mara tried to remember what she knew.
“Kara’s spell gives one woman some of her power. She’s an important part of ever defeating The Unforgiven and not letting the barrier fall. It’s supposed to be passed down, on to another when she dies.”
Ivloch grunted in acknowledgement, a slight look towards Idyn.
“That’s true Mara. Five Guardians were also created to take care of her and the objects needed to either enhance or destroy Kara’s magic.” He paused, more finger drumming. “This Guild, where you are now, it was founded by the first Guardian. I don’t know if you know that.”
She didn’t and she had no idea why it mattered to her. What any of this had to do with her.
“Mara, have you seen the Mark on your wrist?” Idyn spoke carefully and Ivloch looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but in this conversation. She could sympathise. Elex and Xave mattered; not this.
She lifted her wrist and traced the symbols there with her finger.
“That Mark was given to you by Elex, Mara. She passed it to you before she died.” Ivloch cleared his throat and she raised her brown eyes to take him in. She could feel them growing wider, realization starting to dawn. Elex had kept mentioning The Guild. She had hated Xave passionately…
“It was Elex’s right to pass on her Mark to whoever she saw fit. She would have known her time was coming and made the choice she…most enjoyed I imagine,” there was the thinnest hint of anger in Ivloch’s demeanour. “Unfortunately that has left you in a rather awful position Mara. One I don’t think you ever expected to be in.”
She thought she understood what he was saying but it made no sense. The one Marked by Kara was meant to be a hero. The Guild’s front woman. The face of a rebellion against The Unforgiven. Talk of her was banned across Brodanna; she would be hunted if her identity was known, since Jefferson’s rule began. A powerful User that could lead the people to safety…
“I… I’m not a warrior. I’m a storyteller. I think there has been some sort of mistake here. I’m sorry.”
Ivloch looked tense. Idyn moved closer still. A huff from Camrin.
“I told you Elex made a mistake.” Camrin’s words were clipped and filled with abhorrence.
Ivloch stood up, the table nearly toppling onto her lap with the speed and strength of him.
“Get out Cassidy. Get out now.”
“Yes sir.” There was no apology in his tone. He had meant what he said. Mara wasn’t sure if she agreed with him. This must be another dream, an odd nightmare in the Facility. Maybe she was still there, the smoke making her delirious.
She could feel tears in her eyes. They fell before she could stop them.
She tried to paw at her face to remove the wetness before either Ivloch or Idyn commented. If this were true, then to be stuck with her over Elex must be bad enough for them, let alone for her to be a crying mess.
Idyn swiftly produced a tissue from some hidden crease of his armour. “You look like you need this miss,” he grimaced and Ivloch made a cawing sound. In approval or disapproval, Mara couldn’t quite decide.
Ivloch sat back down, taking special care not to dislodge anything else on the desk. His hands went automatically for the wooden figure and he began turning it over and over, an awkward silence descending on them all.
“Kara’s spell was supposed to last another hundred years, until a time when none of this mess would have belonged to us, but alas we have not been so lucky,” Ivloch spoke but Idyn moved to stand next to her, as if to share the burden in any way he could. “Our King has managed to find a way to let some of them back into this land and I fear he won’t ruddy rest until they all return. I’m sure you met some of them in your time in the Facility.”
She admitted she had. They were hard to forget. They had power beyond anything even in the stories, power used to kill, maim and destroy. A curse rather than a gift.
“This may not have ever meant to be our problem but it is. A war is coming Mara. A war which will decide the fate of Brodanna and I’m afraid you’ve been left in the middle of it.”
“I can’t help with any war. I barely have any magic. I haven’t used it. I don’t know how. I don’t even know how to fight. Elex and Xave, they protected me in there or I’d be dead. There has to have been some kind of mistake.”
She definitely saw Idyn and Ivloch exchange a look then. One of horror. Was she that shameful? That awful? Surely she could pass on this Mark? They could find someone better suited to fight The Unforgiven or whatever else they planned.
Ivloch fiddled with some of the papers on his desk and pulled one out. It had a drawing of a man on it. One she recognised. Xave. The nose was thinner than in reality but it was definitely meant to be him. He passed it across the desk.
“Mara, is this the Xave you speak of?”
“Yes…is he alright? We were… he means a lot to me. He said he would take care of me.”
Ivloch let out an exasperated sigh and stood. He moved to the side of the desk and began to pace. Idyn crouched down and pointed to the picture.
“Mara, I’m really sorry but this man is Xave Xeben. He works for the King…”
She knew he did. He had told her that. What were they trying to say?
“He has been rounding up Wielders and Users for the past ten years and taking them to the Facilities. He is known to be helping the King bring back The Unforgiven.”
Mara shook her head passionately. “No. Xave works for the King but he would never do that. He said they scared him like they scared me. We…” She stopped herself before she shared too much.
“He is responsible for the injury on your leg. He found us as I was taking you out of the burning prison. He said you belonged to him and were part of his plan Mara, and if he couldn’t have you then nobody could. I managed to fight him off when he attacked you, a fluke I think quite frankly, but he will be looking for you. Do you know why Xave took such an interest in you?”
Ivloch’s news made her cry again. They couldn’t be telling the
truth. This was far too much.
“He…he said he loved me.” She sounded pathetic and thought she saw Idyn wince. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or sympathetic.
Ivloch’s demeanour changed as he demanded information from her. “Elex can’t have given that Mark to you more than twenty-four hours before her death. Did Xave see it after you had received it, Mara?”
“I was asleep I think when she gave it to me. I didn’t have it before. Xave was… I… Are you telling me the truth?”
A flash of Xave laughing with The Unforgiven soldiers, the sheer glee on his face as he had carved a number into a new prisoner's neck, but later swore he only did a job. The loving way he had described wanting to use their power to serve Brodanna. Things she hadn't understood at the time, promises that one day she would believe like he did. A face through smoke that struck out and claimed nobody could have her but him. Could she have been that stupid? That desperate to matter to someone?
"I... he wouldn't have seen it. I only saw it before you came for me. He...Xave wasn't telling me the truth, was he?"
Ivloch seemed relieved. Idyn murmured an apology and moved the paper which fell from her hands.
The hush that came over both of them and the embarrassed looks on their faces told her what she needed to know.
Xave had lied and betrayed her. Like everyone else. Even Elex had left her with this mess and never trusted her with the truth.
“There has to be another reason then,” Ivloch pondered. He didn’t seem to believe Xave capable of love. She was also certain Ivloch Youchnore had a history with him; one he didn’t see fit to inform her of yet.
“I know this is a lot to take in Mara and I am sorry. The Guild will do what we can for you. We promise. We have some interesting times ahead of us indeed and I can only offer my condolences that you will have to witness them.” Ivloch spoke with such sincerity in his tone.
He warned her that a matching Mark would also be across her stomach. A brief memory of the Mark she had once accidentally seen on Elex’s midriff. One she had snapped never to ask about again; never to mention to Xave. Elex had known what type of man he was all along; had tried to warn her at least.
