by Montana Ash
His mother’s dark eyes were filled with concern, “They are your Order. The link may be silent at the moment but I have no doubt it will spark to life once more. How do I know? This,” she touched the full sleeve of his coat of arms. “It hasn’t faded. I know it hasn’t moved and that’s a unique feature of Max, but it also hasn’t faded. Whenever Order bonds are broken permanently, the coat of arms diminishes because it is a direct reflection of the liege’s power. No liege equals no brand. Max is clearly still as strong as ever and some part of her must recognise all of you as her sworn paladins, otherwise this wouldn’t be here anymore.”
Beyden blinked, “That makes sense. In fact, I knew that.”
“Then what was with the doubt? How often do you keep having these negative thoughts?” Rosa asked.
“All the time” he admitted. “It’s almost like every second thought I have is bad. Every second day is a bad day. It’s exhausting.” Angel tried to climb his leg, claiming his attention. He bent down to pick her up, earning enthusiastic licks from Zombie at the same time. “Thanks, guys. You always seem to know when I’m in a down swing, don’t you?”
In fact, the growling earlier wasn’t the first time Zombie had done so in order to gain his attention. Whenever his thoughts took a darker turn, Zombie would bark or growl or jump on him. Beyden would then feel immediately lighter. He had just put it down to being a beast paladin and gaining solace from his element. But could it be more than that? Or was it just wishful thinking so he wouldn’t be responsible for what he had done to Jasminka?
“You’re right,” he admitted. “I need the Order of Aurora. And then we’ll see if Jasminka can ever forgive me.”
“You love her,” his mother stated. “I knew it was more than just screwing.”
“Muuum,” he drew the word out, wincing over her vocabulary.
“Does she love you?” She asked, ignoring his whining.
“I think she used to. Ten minutes ago she said she did. I bet her answer would be different if you asked her now though.”
Rosa dismissed that with a wave of her hand, “Nonsense. Love doesn’t come and go because of some simple words. Love begins and ends with actions. It grows over time and it dies the same way. If Jasminka truly loves you, she’ll forgive you. Words won’t make her run.”
Beyden hoped his mother was right. But given what Jasminka had just revealed about her parents and her past, he had his doubts. To many, words were just as important. He only hoped Jasminka would be receptive to the three words he wanted to say to her more than anything.
TWENTY-ONE
Beyden felt himself shrivel inside as he came clean to his family about everything he had been thinking and feeling for weeks, including the depression, the rage, the headaches, and even the strange dark voice he swore he sometimes heard in his head. He finished by telling them all about his hate-filled rant directed at Jasminka. Although he wanted to protect her privacy, he thought it was more important for him to be brutally honest.
By the end of his confession, everyone looked completely horrified and Beyden couldn’t blame them; he was disgusted in himself too. “I’m sorry,” he ended, meekly.
“You should be sorry! I can’t believe you’ve hidden all this from us. We’re supposed to be a team. More than that, we’re family. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling like that. Sorry I didn’t see it myself,” Lark looked pale as he spoke.
Looking around, he saw identical looks of sadness and self-recrimination on their faces and Beyden realised his friends were upset for him – not because of him. He felt himself relax a little, beyond relieved he hadn’t pushed them away.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ryker’s voice was rough, hands clenched at his sides.
“I didn’t think there was anything to tell. I mean, I just put everything down to normal depression. But what happened earlier ...” he shook his head, looking at Jazz where she sat squished between Max and his mother of all people, “That wasn’t normal. I didn’t recognise myself. The words weren’t planned. I have no conscious idea of where they came from. I haven’t once thought any of those things. Ever.” Although he was technically answering Ryker, he was speaking to Jasminka, willing her to listen and believe him. She didn’t look at him.
“But you don’t think that now? You don’t think your injury is to blame?” Darius asked, looking just as concerned as everyone else.
“Actually, I do. I just think my reactions since I’ve been injured aren’t normal.” He sighed, scratching his fingers through the moderate thickness of his beard, which was now thicker than his usually unshaved look. “Or maybe I’m just looking for excuses so I don’t have to accept that I’ve changed. That I’m the type of person who could do and say those things to –” He broke off before he could finish the sentence with ‘say those things to the woman I love’.
“I think you’re right. I think it’s all about the injury. We all know it wasn’t a normal wound inflicted under normal circumstances. It certainly isn’t healing the way a paladin injury would heal. I mean, scarring aside, it still causes you pain,” Diana pointed out before blowing him a kiss, “This isn’t you, Bey.”
“Maybe the reason it isn’t healing properly is because it’s effects aren’t all physical – or even mental,” Max offered.
“Ah, I’m not sure what is left. The pain is either real because of the damaged muscle and nerves, or it’s psychosomatic and all in my head,” Beyden stated. Max tilted her head to the side, the action causing a lump to form in Beyden’s throat. It was just such a Max thing to do and it meant she was puzzling things out in her maze of a mind.
“What about magical?” she asked, presently.
Beyden pursed his lips, “Magical?”
Max turned to Jasminka, “Jazz, from a medical stand point, you agree that it isn’t a normal wound, right?”
Jasminka nodded her head slowly, eyes hard and flat and very pointedly not looking Beyden’s way; “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Well, not the wound itself, more like the injury. During surgery and through the initial stages of healing, it was very much like an animal attack – teeth and claws. The tissue and muscles were completely shredded and torn.”
Beyden winced a little upon hearing the very factual retelling of his injury. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what the injury was like. He knew; it felt like he had been gnawed on.
Max turned to him, “The chades that attacked you, you said they were corrupted, tainted somehow.”
Bey nodded, “That’s right. Chades are, I mean were, wardens corrupted by their powers. But it was a sickness.” Beyden said, then proceeded to retell the tale of chades to Max. Talk about déjà vu. They had already told her a few times since her return, but it was a topic she seemed more interested in than others. “But these were worse than the ones our society came to know over the past hundreds of years. These were infected with, well, pure evil I guess – thanks to Emmanuel.”
“And that made them something else again, right? Nastier?” Max pressed.
“Definitely nastier. Chade claws already contained a poison but these ones were far more potent,” Darius chimed in, absently rubbing his side where he had also taken a swipe from the tormented creatures.
“But I treated Beyden for the initial blood poisoning and he recovered from that. There are no signs of ongoing systemic infection,” Jasminka pointed out.
“That’s good, but a little irrelevant,” Max’s smile softened her words. “I mean, doesn’t it stand to reason that if the chades were nastier, then the injury is nastier too? I mean, couldn’t it still have something ... extra? Like magic poison that isn’t detectable by medical means.” Max shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe that’s why you are so grumpy too. I understand chades weren’t exactly merry?”
The room was silent as Max pointed out something that seemed exceedingly obvious and yet something none of them had thought about. Typical Max, Bey thought in amused warmth. She was always the voice of reason in a storm – as long as s
he wasn’t the one creating the storm, he quickly corrected himself.
“You’re suggesting an ongoing, underlying infection – magical in origin?” Jasminka asked, her tone clinical.
Max shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe? You all would know more than me. But I think it’s possible.”
“It does actually explain a lot, but Ryker doesn’t seem to be suffering the same way, and he was also slashed and scarred by the same mutated chades,” Darius pointed out. “I was lucky, my wound was barely a scratch and has healed completely. After the initial sickness from the poisoning I’ve felt no more effects from it.”
“It was more than just a scratch,” Jasminka frowned at him. “But, you’re right; it has healed completely. No scar like Ryker or Beyden. Interesting.”
“Maybe that chade wasn’t as infected with the dark side as the one who wounded Beyden. And that’s why there is no lingering magical taint,” Max offered.
“It’s possible,” Ivy acknowledged. “I mean, different wounds from different chades do cause different levels of sickness. Trust me, I would know.”
If there was anyone who would know all about chade poisoning, it was a ranger like his sister. But ... “But what about Ryker? He has a scar. A scar but not the same mental effects.” Beyden was getting frustrated and his head was beginning to pound again, patience wearing thin. Looking down, he noticed that his hands were clenched into fists and he made a deliberate effort to relax them. Bending down, he picked up his little kitten – the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given him. It was proof not only of how much Jazz cared about him, but also of how well she knew him.
At Beyden’s words, all eyes turned to the man in question who was rubbing a hand over the rigid lines that ran from beneath his left eye and down almost to his chin. Beyden winced, feeling doubly shitty for not even asking Ry how he was dealing with his disfigurement. Back in the day, the terrible-looking injury had been a source of shame and humiliation for the man because it had signified his failure as a paladin. At least, that was how Ryker had seen it. The rest of society certainly did nothing to disagree with him. It had been Max who had healed not only Ryker’s face, but also his angry, destructive ways.
“Maybe I’m just more mentally stable,” Ryker stated.
“Oh, yeah, sure. I bet that is exactly the reason. Ryker equals mental stability – said no one ever!” Axel muttered the words quietly but they all heard. And they all laughed.
Ryker scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, but his brown eyes held humour, “It was just a suggestion.”
“Dex? You’ve been awfully quiet. Anything to add?” Max asked, eyes directly on the ex-chade.
Dex hesitated, his dark gaze going to Max, who nodded as if she was giving him permission to talk. Beyden sat up straighter; did Dex know something? Max obviously thought he did.
“I think Max is right. Watching the way Beyden’s personality changed, the lack of empathy, the way he’s okay one day and then angry and aloof the next ...” Dex looked apologetically in Bey’s direction. “I’m sorry, man. But it’s all too reminiscent of my own decline into a chade.”
Beyden felt his stomach drop and was sure his heart stopped beating for a second. Surely Dex wasn’t suggesting what he thought he was. “Dex?” he managed to wheez. He saw Jasminka rise from her chair, only to hesitate and sit back down, pointedly looking away from him. That hurt more than the thought of possibly becoming a warped version of a chade. Because that was assuredly what Dex was implying.
Ryker pushed to his feet, glaring in Dex’s direction, “Explain,” he demanded.
Dex didn’t take offense from the curt order, instead he stood up, moving closer to Beyden. His once hazel eyes were kind but worried as they looked at him. “When I started requiring more vitality in order to function and satisfy my need for power, it came hand in hand with a personality change. I didn’t laugh as much, things that usually made me happy simply didn’t anymore. In fact, the things that usually brought me joy had the opposite effect; they made me angry and bitter. Every day I resented having to put on a happy face in front of my Order. I got angrier and angrier until it finally became impossible to hide it. I would snap – say or do something totally out of character. In the early months, I’d feel like shit afterward and beg forgiveness – make up some lame excuse or other. But as the months wore on, it was like the dark emotions soaked into my skin. It was insidious and I couldn’t escape. I could no longer hide from the dark or from the voice and I finally embraced the miasma of the abyss.”
“Dex is right,” Darius said, looking pale. “The change from noble warrior to an insufferable jerk and then to chade was gradual. It’s why I was in denial for so long. But once he snapped, once he gave in ... it was all over. He wasn’t Charlemagne anymore.”
“You think my boy is becoming a chade?” Beyden’s mother’s voice rang out in the silence of the room.
Dex looked a little uncomfortable under the maternal stare aimed in his direction, but he nodded. “I think it’s a distinct possibly he is contaminated with whatever Emmanuel and his horror-show of followers were,” he admitted.
His mother’s loud and shaky swallow could be heard by everyone. Before he could rise and go to her, Jasminka took her hand in her own and squeezed it. Rosa gave Jasminka a warm look of thanks and kept right on holding her hand. Even after everything he had put her through, Jazz was still kind enough to provide comfort to his mother. She was truly amazing.
“Okay, being a chade was a sickness, right – an infection? I know it affected the male warden population exclusively by multiplying their need for vitality and bastardising their elements,” Max recounted. She looked at Lark and Ivy, “But not all wardens were affected, and paladins never were. Do you agree with Dex, Lark?”
Max was being very specific about who she was posing questions to. Beyden had been correct earlier; Max had an agenda. The realisation brought a rush of relief, smoothing away the jagged edges of Beyden’s fear. If Max’s spidey senses were tingling, then Beyden just might stand a chance of crawling out of the black pit he had been tumbling down.
For his part, Lark didn’t seem surprised at being called upon. He was nodding his head, his brain clearly analysing the new information. “I do. It makes sense in a morbid way. I think it also explains why Ryker isn’t affected in the same way.”
“How so?” Ivy asked, reaching out and taking Lark’s hand in hers. Lark smiled at her, twining their fingers together and Beyden saw the way his mother sighed happily from where she was watching them. Lark began to explain;
“Well, as Max said, we know that not all wardens were prone to becoming chades. Some seemed to have a predisposition to it, whilst others were completely immune. I mean, we’ve never understood why one warden succumbs and another doesn’t. A faulty gene perhaps – a genetic disorder? There was never a female chade. If we go with the genetic theory, I’d say it was a y-linked disorder. If we assume variable penetrance plays a role, then the males born carrying the faulty gene were more likely to turn dark side. Those without the gene had no chance and remained firmly with the light.”
Though Lark was in total geek-mode and there were a few big words there – as well as a Star Wars reference – Beyden understood enough to follow what he was talking about. It certainly explained a lot about history and the evolution of the chades. But Beyden was a paladin – not a warden. “But I’m not a warden,” he pointed out.
Lark shrugged, “So what? You’re a male and your life-force is vitality just the same as a warden’s is. Only difference is that we can’t use it to manipulate the elements the same way a warden can. But I guarantee you – we have the same genetic makeup as wardens. It’s ever so slightly different to normal humans. What if those chades – who were all kinds of fucked up thanks to Emmanuel – actually carried the infection in their claws. And because you’re genetically predisposed to it ...” Lark trailed off.
Ryker snorted, forearms flexing as he crossed his arms, “And you think
happy, gentle, kind Beyden is somehow more prone to the ‘dark side’ disease than my grumpy, antagonist butt? Lark –”
But before Ryker could continue, Mordecai spoke up from where he had been hovering as still as a gargoyle. Beyden had actually forgotten he was there. How a man of his size and intensity could blend so well into the background, Beyden had no idea. But he bet the ability had come in handy over the years.
“Actually, yes. I do think that.” He tilted his head to the side, the action so like his daughter that Beyden felt his lips twitch despite the circumstances. “I can sense wounds, disease and death as you know. People who are sick – or prone to disease give off certain vibrations from their auras. Beyden certainly has the vibration of sickness. I put it down to his leg injury, but it could be more than that. Ryker, your vibrations are more emo rather than ill.”
“Hey! I am not emo!” Ryker growled.
Mordecai ignored him, “Max? What do their souls say? You were the one to suggest a magical infection. Can you see something in their souls that reflect this?”
Max shrugged, murmuring something indecipherable under her breath.
Bey walked over to her, “Max, please. This is important. What do you know?”
Max searched his eyes for a moment, before nodding and taking a deep breath. “I think the whole predisposition theory is right. Despite his sparkling personality, Ryker’s soul is bright; yours isn’t.”
“You’re saying my son has a dark soul?” His mother asked, sounding outraged.
Max simply smiled at her, “Not at all. All of us are a mixture of light and dark, good and bad, happy and sad. Our souls reflect that – from what I’ve managed to clumsily puzzle out, anyway. Beyden just has a mix of darker tones in his, hovering around his brain. Dex has the same thing – as does Axel.” Max squinted at Axel, pointing a finger at him, “Yours is actually much darker than Dex’s. Good thing you weren’t born a warden. You would have been a goner. I’m talking major chade action.”
