The Broken Rose

by Jeremy Forsyth

  “Buddies, ay?” she mocked.

  “Yes buddies,” I feigned, trying to invoke a more insistent tone while unable to keep a grip on the sudden fluttering of my heart and the fear of uncertainty that came with opening one’s self to anyone of interest.

  I put my hands inside the pockets of my coat, not knowing what else to do and when I felt a small parchment in the right-hand pocket, I brought it out, was smiling as I saw yet another one of Jay’s sneaky notes.

  Alardia giggled. “What does this one say?” she asked, coming to stand by my side.

  “It just says, ‘Sleep well,’”

  Alardia laughed. “Buddies indeed, ay Stasanda?”

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, I walked inside our room, half expecting Lardian and Tegerian to still be asleep. I was therefore surprised to find them sitting at the table with this morning’s Headline spread out before them. Both looked up at my entrance.

  “Where have you been?” asked Lardian, his voice drowsy, his hair dishevelled. Both were still in their sleeping robes.

  I came to the table and dropped my recent purchase on the table’s surface, saying, “In the city.” I pulled out one of the chairs to sit and rubbed my frozen hands together, blowing hot air into them.

  “Why so early?” Lardian enquired.

  Tegerian smothered a wide yawn while getting up to inspect what I had thrown on the table.

  “Why did you buy a book?” he asked, frowning. It was Lardian’s turn now to take an interest in it.

  “And why is it wrapped like that?”

  I blew hot air into my hands again, wishing these two lazy friends of mine had lit the damned hearth.

  “The bookstore I bought it at does this sort of thing,” I answered.

  Lardian expressed his surprise while Tegerian expressed his suspicion. “I do not recall that I ever told you my birth date. Nor have I ever given you the impression that I enjoyed reading.”

  It was too early to humour him. I was more interested in what today’s Headline reported, so I dropped my gaze to the front page.

  Lardian took notice and murmured, “Dark news, Jay.”

  I regarded him briefly, pulling the Headline towards me. “The Destroyer….” I read, frowning. “The Destroyer killed Old Way members last night!”

  “Not ‘killed,’” came Tegerian. “Slaughtered. The body count, as it says there, numbers at close to a dozen.”

  I hadn’t gone that far until now. “I see.” I kept reading. “How would the Mindfinders know this black cloaked figure was the Destroyer?” My friends didn’t reply, for they knew the answer would appear to me further down the column. “Ah. His moonshined-blade…”

  Moonshined-blades were the magically forged weapons exclusively owned and used by the Blademasters. They were elaborate glaives, the steel blades horizontally curving towards the wielder, branching out from a centre piece; two metal disks that the blademaster slipped his hand between to grasp.

  The fact that today’s news reported a black cloaked figure possessing such a weapon, pointed to the plain truth that indeed, beneath that ‘ominous cloak’, was the face of Alepion’s blademaster.

  As I read further, news of the Destroyer’s activities in the city was as intriguing as the rest of the article was unsettling. According to the Order of Nallara, now that Old Way members had been discovered in the city, it was expected that Liberation Day was set to be the day when they would conduct their infamous sacrifices to their dead gods. The Headline gave fair warning to all its readers to be on alert and to be careful.

  I looked up at my friends; both watched me with inscrutable expressions. I looked down, shrugging.

  “So…Liberation Day, ay?”

  “The Mindfinders,” Tegerian said now,“unless some are a part of the Old Way, cannot know for sure that Liberation Day is the day this cult will strike.”

  I glanced at Lardian, who said nothing, eyeing me with indistinguishable thoughts. I turned to Tegerian.

  “Maybe. Yet we all know our holidays are as sacred to us as they are to the Old Way.” I folded the paper. “Either way. We should be careful.” I rested my hand on the wrapped book, shoving the Headline to the centre of the table. “Shall we get ready for the Karnaea?”

  To no one’s surprise, the clouds outside remained grey, but to our relief, there was no dainty rain falling on our heads. We sat quietly on the stands, silently resenting the cold, waiting for the Karnaea to begin, when suddenly a growing commotion was heard behind us.

  The three of us stood up, as did those few who sat with us and when we turned our heads, straining to look beyond the grounds of the Karnaea, we saw a great crowd was approaching. Their cheers were resounding and when they got close enough, we all noticed the mascot they exalted above their heads; a straw weaved image of the Father of the Sun.

  Tegerian laughed, “What do they intend to do with that?”

  But before Lardian and I could offer a suggestion, the people lit the mascot into flames, their cries and cheers booming all the louder.

  “Do you think the Sun Elves burn images of the Elder in their Eternal Lands?” I asked, watching the masses applaud their own impertinence towards the leader of the Moon’s most formidable rival.

  “I imagine so indeed,” offered Lardian.

  The three of us sat back down and faced the grounds. I looked towards the podium where the Elder of the Moon Elves was supposed to be seated and when I narrowed in on his vacant seat, I commented to my friends,

  “It seems the Golden Elder is still sick.”

  “Apparently,” replied Lardian, indifferently.

  Tegerian sighed. “This Karnaea has not at all been as I had expected.”

  “I think it would have been if held in the capital,” Lardian agreed miserably, adding, “why it has been in this city is beyond my understanding.”

  I kept quiet. I agreed the weather was terrible and that Asher Rise was hardly the place to host a Karnaea, yet since meeting Stasanda, every day was sunny, the winds pleasant, the grounds dry.

  “Perhaps it has something to do with the Old Way?” Tegerian suggested.

  “Wasn’t it the common belief that the Old Way would not be in the city if the Blademaster was?” I said, genuinely curious. I looked to Lardian for the answer, but he just shrugged, his countenance bleak.

  “Apparently not,” came Tegerian.

  I released a sigh,“If that is the case, then the Old Way are a lot bolder than we all thought.”

  Next to me, I noticed Tegerian’s head lift to the side and when he spoke, his tone had changed from solemn to amused.

  “Speaking of bold Old Way members.”

  Both Lardian and I turned towards the left-hand side of the grounds and when I saw Stasanda and her friends below, between our stand and the next one, my morning suddenly took a brighter turn.

  “Let me go and get them,” I said, already rising.

  Tegerian gripped my forearm, willing me to hang back. “Jay, if it is true that Old Way members are in the city, you need to be careful with that one.” He gestured in the direction of Stasanda.

  I frowned at him. “Stasanda is not of the Old Way,” I said fiercely, taking back my arm.

  “Then why was she not permitted in the city?” asked Lardian, not looking at me nor at where Stasanda and her friends stood. Instead, he stared solemnly at the empty Karnaea grounds.

  “Who knows?” I said, defensively. “But I have spent enough time with her to know that she is not who you two would judge her to be.”

  I left them there while I shifted between the people to make for the stairs that led to the grounds and when I came up behind Stase, I found that they had not expected me to appear.

  “Fair morning, ladies.”

  Stase’s response was less than encouraging, “Fair morning, Jay,” she said, insouciantly.

  I acted oblivious to her unenthusiastic demeanour, told her where my friends and I were seated. Her friends, Alardia and that Nune-elvess, sto
od on either side of her, looking at me with expressions made of stone.

  “We want to sit close to the Elder’s stand,” Stase told me.

  She gave me a sympathetic look and I glanced at the Nune-elvess. I then offered Stase an insinuating grin, willing her to smile, for I didn’t like how reserved and closed she appeared towards me.

  “Again?” I said, careful not to give the Nune-elvess the sense that Stase and I had spoken about her last night.

  Stase just nodded. Last night had been incredible. Our time together, I had felt, was enjoyed by the both of us and so it perplexed me to imagine that Stase wasn’t glad to see me.

  “Ok, Stase,” I said. “Then I will see you later.”

  “Yes,” she replied, simply.

  Her friends turned around and Stase followed and when I returned to Lardian and Tegerian, they noticed my deep contemplation and linked it to the obvious absence of Stasanda.

  “They aren’t joining us?” asked Lardian.

  I didn’t reply. There was no need and when their concentration eventually turned to the Karnaea grounds, we found that the musicians and dancers were currently being presented before the podium of the Elder. I watched distractedly; my thoughts on Stasanda, trying to deduce the sudden change in her persona.

  Come midday, I was unable to appreciate how the Karnaea had developed so far and I had had enough with sitting on the stands and so decided to seek out refreshments. When I touched ground, I went out seeking it while keeping a keen eye out for Stase. I was contemplating going out to look for her and putting an end to this constant gnawing in my mind; I wanted to make sure we were ok.

  I found Stase on the other side of the stands, hers a profile of beauty I couldn’t miss even if I were blind; the people around her a rugged bunch in comparison. She stood with her Nune friend, the elvess whose name I could never recall. When I approached them, that Nune-elvess appeared as indifferent to me as always, while Stase, ironically, offered a slightly more genuine smile.

  “Would you come for a walk with me?” I asked her.

  She hesitated. “Where?”

  “The Circle,” I said, referring to the area on the other side of the grounds, directly behind the Elder’s stand. I added quickly for incentive that, “I haven’t given my condolences to the Lightmarsh Tree.”

  At the Circle, in addition to the many stalls that were placed there, there was a great portrait of the Betrayed. The portrait had been added by the Deacon of Asher Rise in honour of the late elder. It was also to give the people attending the Karnaea, an opportunity to give their condolences to the Lightmarsh family by writing them down across a board placed beneath the image.

  Apparently on the first day of the Karnaea, the line of people seeking to honour the Lightmarshs had been extensive but seeing as I didn’t truly care for the family, I hadn’t desired to seek out the great portrait myself. I did now. If it meant I could spend some time with Stasanda alone, I would look to sign any portrait of the Betrayed that I could find.

  “Ok,” she agreed. “Let me just go and fetch Alardia.” She turned to leave, but gently, I grabbed her forearm. When she looked at me, clearly confused, I said confidently, “No. I don’t want to go to the Circle with you and your friends. I just want to go with you.” My expression was firm, and I was pleased to see colour rise to her cheeks.

  “Good,” she said nervously.

  I found her utterly adorable in that moment. “Good,” I repeated, regarding the Nune-elvess briefly, waiting for her to take her cue and leave us. When she didn’t, Stase faced her and said she would find her and Alardia later.

  Pleased to at last be alone with Stasanda, I fearlessly decided to concentrate my efforts on bringing down the walls Stase had built up this morning by addressing them directly.

  “Your walls are up Stase,” I pointed out as we walked together.

  “I know,” she said softly.

  I regarded her. She had her head downcast.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, not looking at me.

  I faced forward, sensing that she did know, yet was unable or unwilling to speak about it. But when we made a right turn around one of the stands carrying a much rowdier crowd than this morning, Stase hinted at it by bringing up this morning’s Headlines.

  “Did you read it?”

  “I did,” I admitted, not sure why I was suddenly nervous. When she failed to say more, I looked at her, noticing how guarded she had become. “Do you believe I am of the Old Way?” I asked her.

  She glanced at me. I loved her dark angled eyes. “How am I to not?” she asked, looking forward again.

  “Because I am telling you that I am not.”

  “Why would you sneak into the city if you had nothing to hide?”

  What I was tempted to respond with, was ‘why would you be denied into the city, if you had nothing to hide?’ but I cared too much for her feelings to act out on my first impulse. Instead, I said, “Because it was a lot easier. And because we could.” I regarded her solemnly, “The Blademaster is hunting these Old Way members. If I am lying to you, it is probable that he will find me soon. If not, you will have the closure you seek.” And if he hadn’t found her, I would have the closure I seek. Despite myself, I struggled now to ignore Tegerian’s warning earlier on, regarding Stase’s speculated affiliation with the Old Way cult.

  Once done with the Circle and the portrait of the Betrayed, my simple scratching to the first Golden Elder reading ‘Valiant’ while Stase had scratched, ‘Long live the Golden Elders,’ the two of us made our way back to find Alardia and that Nune-elvess. When it was time for us to part so that I could re-join Lardian and Tegerian, I once more reached for Stase’s forearm, willing her to wait a moment.

  “I bought this for you.” I reached within the depths of my cloak and pulled out the wrapped book I had bought this morning. I was pleased at how wide Stase’s eyes had become and the smile that wrought her expression.

  “Why did you buy me this?” she said.

  “Open it,” I replied.

  When she did, she saw the first volume of the Sorcerer series, the book series which we had spoken of last night and I revelled at how exuberant her joy was when she smacked me over the chest.

  “No, Jay!” she said, gleaming. She looked up at me. “Why did you buy this for me?”

  “Because I wanted to,” I said.

  She studied the exterior of the front cover. But then her smile suddenly faded. She looked up at me,“I don’t have anything to give you.”

  “That’s ok.”I stepped forward, seeing the slight alarm set in her dark eyes at my proximity. “All I want…is your heart.”

  Chapter 9

  After the Karnaea, my friends and I made our way home to the Landa Inn so that we could get ready for a night out in the city. Jay and his friends came with us, Jay walking beside me.

  Despite my initial reservations this morning, caused by the fear of the uncertain future I carried since internally acknowledging my feelings for Jay, I found myself feeling glad and content to have him with me. But when we came upon a street called Olian which would lead to the Landa Inn further ahead, we suddenly heard an elvess scream and that contentment became slightly disturbed.

  “Stop!” demanded Jay, gesturing for me to do so with a protective hand.

  All of us came to a sudden halt, our talk silenced before once more, there came a scream just ahead of us.

  Jay slowly lead us forward, the six of us quiet with growing apprehension. When our eyes fell upon a tall establishment just a few feet ahead of us, we saw to our surprise and concern, people dashing out of the door at a frantic rate, darting off into the open road and running in all directions.

  One elf ran past us and Alardia tried to capture his attention so that we could gain enlightenment over the commotion. Suddenly, the top window of the house shattered as someone was thrown through it from the inside, whisking our focus immediately towards the startling scene.

  The body
hit the floor with such force and I covered my mouth in shock. Alardia and Nendia gasped while Jay and his friends took protective steps forward so that we elvesses remained behind them.

  “What is happening?” I heard Jay say.

  I stepped forward. I stood close to Jay, my hand lightly taking hold of his as we looked onwards together. But when there came a very tall figure at the door of the house’s threshold, I suddenly became rigid at his unsettlingly dark image, his body swathed in long layers of black while his face remained covered by a black hood.

  That tall figure was now walking outside of the house and everyone around him who had yet to flee, cried in terror.

  “Who is that?” I heard Alardia ask.

  None responded. When the figure walked over to the body that had crashed to the floor from the shattered window, I started becoming very afraid.

  The dark elf bent down to his haunches, as if to whisper something final to the dead elf who, I assumed, had been thrown from the window by this elf in black. The apprehension growing inside me took a more deliberate turn when I noticed the elf drew out from beneath his layers, the great glaive of a blademaster. Next to me, I heard Jay suck in his breath.

  “The Destroyer.”

  Next to Jay, Tegerian whispered in what sounded like awe, “Senistar.”

  Then, to our alarm, as if the Blademaster had heard the two of them, his head suddenly jerked up towards the top of the road where the six of us stood and I saw his two beading eyes shining the brilliance of the First Sign of Adonai within the darkness beneath his hood.

  The Blademaster rose and straightened. Apparently losing interest in the dead body, he came onto the road. I felt the grips on myself begin to slip as fear began rearing frantically inside me, stirred by memory of that first day I had stood at the city gate of Evennal.

  All I could think of now was how I had been turned away at the gate and that the Destroyer, according to the Headlines, was hunting Old Way members.

  Slowly making his way towards us, the Blademaster looked like something from a dark nightmare, so much so that when he called out, “I have been looking for you!” I back stepped, turned and ran.