The Alterator's Light

by Dan Brigman

  The remainder of the day passed with little change to Melek’s or the stranger’s appearance. Melek’s breathing had steadied soon after Bregoth’s departure, and now he slept soundly. Malkari’s appearance did change subtly as the hours slipped away. As Loken checked on the men intermittently, Malkari’s face slowly reverted to normal. By nightfall, he no longer had the appearance of an ancient. The lines covering his face had smoothed out and the extreme whiteness of his hair dulled to a hard gray.

  Throughout the wait Loken sat in the Alterator’s chambers, marveling at the organization Malkari committed to his possessions. Everything in the room was placed in such a way to maximize its utility. If only everyone could be like this, the world might not be such a hard place, he thought. But the world outside this room is violent and unpredictable. That world is something the Alterator does not deal with anymore, at least not very often.

  Loken’s thoughts began to linger on more worrisome issues. The headman’s axe clearly rang through his mind without warning. Each time he forced the thought out of his mind. I must occupy myself or go insane sitting here. Putting himself into action, he created a list of necessities. After searching the room for anything he might need, Loken realized everything was already at hand. Fresh water, blankets, rags, and even many different tinctures and reagents lay close at hand. Of course, many of the labels listed things he had either never heard of or had no idea what purpose they served. He noticed the pile of firewood needed to be restocked. Well, that should occupy a few moments at least, he thought sarcastically. He looked around the room for any books, but none lay out in the open.

  The stool the Alterator normally sat upon was surprisingly comfortable, so he sat and listened to the men’s regular breaths. Making himself comfortable, Loken leaned his back upon the table and laid his hands upon his lap. The gentle breathing of the men, along with the dull cracking of the fire within the woodstove, calmed his mind. All thoughts of the previous days’ events slipped from his mind. He soon felt himself slide off to sleep, but he did not fight the urge to close his eyes. Just a few minutes, he thought as weariness overwhelmed him.

  Loken woke with a start, nearly cracking his head on the table behind him as he fell from the stool. He hastily glanced at the beds to see if he had roused either of the men. To his surprise, Melek sat upon his bed, staring back at him in wonder. The sight brought a grin to Loken’s face as he righted the stool and stood up.

  “You’re finally awake,” Loken stated happily as he began to move to his friend’s side. Melek’s darkening eyes stopped Loken midstride.

  “Stop. I cannot have you coming near me, Loken. I don’t know what I may do to you.”

  “I’m not sure what I’ve done to upset you, my friend. I’ve been waiting here since we brought you to that bed. We brought the outsider here, too, to find answers to our questions.”

  “Aye, we did, but your mind hasn’t been the same since his arrival. You know what plagues your mind, and I don’t know what you have been up to since I fell ill.”

  Melek’s words brought a look of shame to Loken’s face, an expression he could not hide. He moved to the stool, turned, and sat, crestfallen.

  “I can fight whatever it is, but you have to keep faith in me,” Loken replied while he stared at the floor. The words sounded hollow even to his ears. He stole a quick glance at Melek to gauge the effect of his words. They did not have the effect he anticipated.

  Melek rose to his feet quicker than Loken believed anyone could after just recovering from an illness. In one breath, Melek’s massive right hand wrapped around Loken’s neck and he felt its squeeze. For the first time in his life, Loken felt death would claim him.

  12 — Jaken’s Path

  “Yes. I am Ellia,” Ellia replied. Her voice seemed small and insignificant. Jaken and Ellia stared at one another for a breath before Holli scoffed.

  “You’re being rude, Jaken. Take off your hood, at least, and sit. Ellia will need to join the children soon.”

  “Of course,” Jaken replied, then with black-gloved hands he pulled back his gray hood.

  The firelight glinted off his bald head. He has to be a head shorter than Einar, Ellia thought. His only hair grew at his eyebrows; their blackness offset his tanned skin with small patches of gray skin here and there along his scalp, face, and neck. Jaken’s wide eyes, reflecting a darker gray than his skin, focused on the closest chair. He undid the scabbards on either side of his waist and set a long and a shortsword against the wall behind him. Ellia shook her head and mentally berated herself at her lack of attention. I didn’t even notice those swords when he entered. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to take in all his features.

  As Jaken sat, the wooden chair’s joints groaned at his bulk, reaffirming he was not some phantom slipping into their presence. Ellia continued staring at him, his own eyes unmoving from their focus on her. Her stomach fluttered slightly with each of his movements, which she barely noticed on the wide, handsome face. Not nervousness, but anxiety. Something is off with him…

  “Now you are being rude,” Holli said, which broke the quiet. The popping of wood within the stove was the only other noise, now that the chair stopped its groans. Ellia pulled her gaze from the stranger and noticed Holli’s widened eyes.

  “My apologies,” Ellia muttered, hoping that the light would hide her flushed cheeks. “I just wasn’t expecting a guard on our way to Tolsont. So far, this trip has been,” Ellia paused, searching for the right word. After a blink, she continued, “uneventful. Cold, but uneventful. And I hoped that would continue.” Jaken nodded, seemingly in agreement. “However, I’m told I have no choice in the matter but to take you with us.”

  Jaken nodded again, his smooth face splitting into a grin. Pale teeth, almost gray, lined his mouth. He tugged at his tight-fitting gloves, pulling at each finger one at a time. “That is correct, ma’am. Holli,” he said while pointing in her direction, “has kept me as a retainer for at least five years. I’ve guarded many people for her—dye merchants, wool traders, and others—on the road going north and south. I’ve been all the way to Kendach and the Keltand Heights. I’ve never lost one person to bandits, marauders, or pirates—well, at least, anyone directly under my care.” His tanned hands splayed out on the table, the same gray patches plain. Holli sipped, watching Ellia over the mug’s lip.

  “Jaken, I appreciate all that, but I have one question.” While he had spoken, Ellia had scanned his face and hands, and a realization came to her. With it, an odd sense of relief warmed her until the implications reached her mind. “So, either you’re both liars, or you’ve never met a blade that could pass your defenses.”

  Holli slammed the mug down, splashing brown ale onto her arms and the table. The other two jumped as if struck by a fiery hot poker, the wooden mug’s impact boomed across the room like a gong.

  “How dare you!” Holli sputtered before she wiped her face clean of the ale. Ellia could feel a laugh deep bubbling up but pushed it down. The accusation Ellia had spout, somewhat carelessly, she realized, would not be helped by laughter. Jaken raised both hands, palms forward, sparking a rush of curiosity in Ellia.

  “Dear Holli, take no offense,” Jaken offered while his gray eyes met Holli’s blue eyes. He turned to Ellia, a smile replacing the shocked expression. “Why, Ellia, would you have such thoughts?”

  “You’ve got more patience than—"

  Ellia interrupted, “Because you bear no sign of one wound upon your face or hands, other than sword callouses and the pen callouses from writing. That alone is odd considering you are a guard. I’ve never met anyone who wears weapons for a living, has no helmet, travels as far as you have claimed, and has not one scar anywhere where a weapon would reach.” She exhaled and reached for her cup and drained it in one swallow.

  Jaken smiled, his gray teeth glistening. “I think we are going to get along quite well. What your eyes catch will keep me safe.” He paused, then continued when exasperation washed over Ellia’s face. “I
am a guard, Ellia, one who’s lived a long time. One who learned early on what it meant to move quickly. To strike first when necessary. So, my lack of outward scars, at least on this,” he said, waving a hand slowly around his face and head, “doesn’t conceal the scars I carry in here.” He pointed at his head and laid the hand upon the table.

  He continued, “I’ve seen many battles. I’ve defended myself many times from bandits and their ilk. My style has never failed me, nor those under my care.” His gray eyes glistened intensely in the meager light. “You can trust I’ll protect your family on the road. My life depends on it.”

  Ellia stood to refill her mug with water, then turned back to Jaken. “I see there’s little to do now but sleep and be ready in the morning.” She nodded to Jaken and Holli before lifting the mug to her lips for a long drink. She set the mug into the sink, then departed for the parlor.

  Holli watched the door shut and heard the latch click. She whispered, “You’ll protect those four, or both of our lives will be forfeit, Jaken.”

  “Holli, you should know better than that. I fully understand what our duties are. Nothing will happen to those children while in my care. My swords have never failed me.”

  “Yes, yes,” Holli whispered, the exasperation plain in her voice. “Your Elitree style is amazing.” She whisked a finger in the air emulating a sword’s movements. “Calm down, master swordsman,” she chided. At seeing Jaken’s eyes widen, irritation washing over his face, she waved the same hand ahead of her. “I am just more irritated with this entire situation. I honestly didn’t expect my cousin to follow through. She’s lived with that man for years. And now she decides to head south.” She shook her head, not able to hide the disgust upon her face.

  “I suppose some part of you thought she’d follow through. Otherwise, why bother hiring me for the past few months?” Jaken asked.

  He stood, and Holli sighed, then replied, “You’re right, but you’re not a cheap retainer, old friend. I’ll need to ask for reimbursement and soon. The dyeing business isn’t the most lucrative.” She held up a discolored hand and let out a barking laugh. “Perhaps. I’ll hold you to your word Jaken, as you know death is the only thing waiting for you if you fail.”

  “Of course.” He nodded deferentially to Holli, replaced his swords, then departed her home as quietly as he had entered.

  Holli whispered to herself, “At this point, I’m not sure if success or failure is what we need, Jaken and myself.” She sighed. “I only hope the Originators, at least one of them, know what they are doing.”

  Holli shuffled around the kitchen blowing out the candles and lantern before ensuring she had shut the stove’s doors and lids. Satisfied, she looked in the direction of where the family slept. She exhaled a long breath before heading to her own bed, her memory guiding her there without the disturbance of a light. Halfway up the stairs, Holli paused. The peaceful sounds of steady sleep from the children could not dissuade her from her duty. Whispered words hinted that at least two of them still lay awake. Let them talk. Let them remember this as the last peaceful night they’ll have as long as they’ll live. Holli pulled her feet up the stairs a moment later.

  Before sleep released her, Holli let the fleeting thoughts of betrayal flit away, knowing of no other recourse.

  The dyer had offered them breakfast, but little else before urging them to begin their trek to North Sacclon. Holli had muttered about not having time to get other horses. They’d just have to take Asgrim’s. Ellia’s protestations did nothing to persuade Holli. “The blizzard is coming,” Holli had repeated several times before hugging each one of the Amakiirs. She offered no embrace to Jaken, of course. He simply stared ahead at the road south, taking in Sol’s eastern rays as it rose. His black stallion dwarfed the black mount they had borrowed from Asgrim. Long strips of hair had been ripped away on the stallion’s haunches, neck, and face. Ellia had heard Jaken call the horse Altaric.

  Kylia heard it, too, and asked, “Pardon me. What does that name mean? It seems familiar.”

  “Your father would know, I’m sure,” Jaken replied offhandedly. A breath later, he turned back, and saw the children staring, open-mouthed. Jaken shook his head, his cheeks reddened. “No harm meant to you.” He continued, looking at Ellia, “Holli told me about your husband,” then shifting his gaze to each of the children, “and father. Sounds like an honorable man.” Before they could respond, he continued, “Need to focus now. Please take no offense if I don’t talk much during our trip, at least while traveling.”

  Jaken sat on the ornate blackened leather saddle vaguely aware of Ellia and the children, offering grins to the children when he caught their eyes outside his time scanning ahead. His gray eyes constantly scanned. His eyes wide and absorbing everything, yet never focusing on anything. Concentrating on one thing for too long would repeat mistakes he dared not think about. His eyes slid away from Ellia each time she glanced his way.

  Overnight, Holli’s eyes had sunken, leaving an illusion that she had aged ten years while laying in bed. Ellia glanced concernedly at their cousin throughout breakfast, and Holli’s actions pulled out even more curiosity. The younger woman smiled genuinely at each person who offered a funny comment or thankful gesture. Finally, Ellia had the chance to ask Holli what the matter could be when Jaken and the children saddled the horses. Holli simply replied that she had not gotten much sleep. She would rest when they had safely taken the road.

  “Cousin Holli is a nice lady,” Eosy offered to no one in particular when they had reached a mile south of Jasten.

  “Yes, she is a nice lady,” Kylia replied to Eosy after a few moments of silence during a respite of the horses walking. The four of them rode within a pace of each other, and Jaken had ridden to the side several paces since leaving Jasten’s outskirts.

  Jaken frowned. “Holli?”

  Kylia nodded. “I was just agreeing with my sister.” Kylia laughed—a short, biting laugh. She’s growing up too fast, Ellia thought. Kylia continued, breaking off Ellia’s thoughts, “It occurred to me that no one commented on Eosy’s observation. I just wanted to let her know I agreed.” Kylia gripped Eosy’s shoulder with a gloved hand.

  Ellia nodded in agreement, then said, “Children, listen closely.” From the corner of her eye, Ellia noticed Jaken tilted his closest ear to her, despite his distance, Ellia knew he would hear. “We’ve got a long way to go still, and our guard, Jaken, is going to offer protection should anyone decide to try to steal from us.”

  Eosy replied, her voice barely above a whisper, “That’s good mother, but what’s wrong with his skin?” She looked down, crestfallen at Ellia’s green eyes boring into her.

  “Yes, mother, what are those,” Celex said while holding a hand up pointing toward Jaken’s face.

  Ellia snapped Celex’s hand down while saying, “Celex, you will apologize—"

  “Why, nothing, of course.” Jaken’s voice spun all four heads in his direction. He tugged off one glove and held up the hand, its skin a patchwork of ashen gray and tan. Ellia’s face blushed, and Jaken waved the bare hand, motioning the words away. “No harm. They don’t know any better.”

  Ellia swallowed, her face colorless. She looked at each of her children for the blink of an eye, the motion of the horses not hindering her gaze. “I’ll not have any of you disrespecting Jaken. Now, let’s—”

  “But, mother,” Celex began, “I thought gray skin meant someone is bad.”

  Booming laughter erupted from atop of the massive war stallion. The smaller mounts jumped at the sound, forcing Ellia and Kylia to tug their reigns. Altaric continued unfazed. “Boy,” Jaken began, when his laughter halted enough for him to speak. “I didn’t know that superstitious nonsense was still being spread. I’ve had this condition since I was younger than you.”

  “Does it hurt?” Eosy asked. Ellia sighed, her shoulders shrugged with defeat.

  “The gray?” Jaken pondered as he glanced at his hand seemingly noticing the splotches for the first ti
me. Eosy nodded, her eyes expectant of an answer. Kylia and Celex matched her stare. “I don’t even feel them. Except when a new one forms from time to time. Hurts for a few days, then the pain recedes, and I am as right and bright as the moons.” He smiled and slowly replaced the glove.

  “How often do they appear?” Kylia asked.

  “No regularity at all, really. They just pop up. The physicars don’t know what to call it other than the Graying. Seems like an apt name, don’t you think?” He looked at all three children, each nodding in agreement. “Not many people seem to get it. I’ve rarely seen anyone with your coloring get this, but I’ve not been everywhere. No real cure either, that I know of. Not sure anyone is really looking for one, though.”

  The last Jaken said to himself, his stare ahead on the mountains, the river, and plains. His grin had dropped, leaving an expressionless visage. Silence persisted—his four charges waiting for him to continue—for a minute with no hint that he would speak.

  Celex ungloved a hand to examine his skin, a sudden curiousness tickling his mind. Dark brown. Still the same, as always, but a fainter hue, as mother calls it, than my sisters. Nowhere near the shade of mother’s skin. Mother’s skin almost looked black in certain light. He smiled when he remembered the compliments his mother received about her beautiful skin. Even now, in the gloom of the wintery sky, he enjoyed seeing her radiant blackish-brown skin.

  “What was that last part, sir?” Celex said, his voice weak in the effort to disrupt the guard’s thoughts.

  Jaken eye’s refocused and he turned to Celex. “What?” he said, pausing. “Oh. Nothing. Just the mutterings of a lonely man.” His grin returned, his gray-white teeth flashing. “I spend a lot of time with strangers, but not really with a group like you.”

  “A group like us?” Ellia asked, feeling her back straighten. Her voice carried more heat than she had intended.