by Steven Drake
So, when the vague feeling of wariness became too distracting, he started to dart down back alleys and side streets randomly. Once, when he felt the feeling grow particularly strong, he abruptly wheeled round in a deserted alleyway and caught the glimpse of a flash of gold and white as someone leapt out of sight. Someone, but not Ceres. Wrong colors, plus she wouldn’t bother to hide. He picked up his pace, moved quickly as he could without drawing too much attention. He darted back and forth, choosing the smallest alleys and darkest corners, completely abandoning all sense of direction in an attempt to evade the strange pursuer. Finally, he thought he’d lost his pursuer, and stopped to rest on the stoop of an abandoned building, in the shade between two rows of tall brick buildings. The feeling had left him, and he was out of breath. The sun was beginning to fade into the western sky, and the buildings cast long shadows, exceptionally unfriendly looking to a lone half-elf lost in a strange city. He had to find an inn to pass the night, and without being found again. He’d have to spend most of his remaining gold, but it couldn’t be helped.
He got up, took a deep breath, and started walking. He soon reached a larger street, stepped around a corner and unexpectedly crashed into someone, face first, then tumbled backwards onto the ground. Jerris shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Whoever he’d hit had been running and the impact had been disorienting. As he opened his eyes, he saw something quite unexpected. A young woman had fallen just a few feet away, a very pretty young woman, with pale white skin, and long wavy hair that flowed down her back, golden, the color of sunlight shimmering upon water. She sat shaking her head, clearly just as dazed as Jerris. He immediately leapt to his feet to assist the young lady, but to his considerable surprise, she leapt to her feet and grabbed a staff that had been lying by her feet. She appeared to be preparing for a fight. Jerris, however, had to fight the urge to laugh, because her quite ordinary staff was much longer than she was tall. Although over a head shorter than Jerris, she was just as thin, wearing a white uniform that looked much too large for her. Jerris half chuckled, as he imagined this girl couldn’t even fight a stiff breeze. Fortunately, this stretch of road was deserted at the moment, for the sight would probably have elicited laughter from passersby.
“I’m sorry to bump into you like that,” Jerris smiled sheepishly. “I don’t mean you any harm.”
“Who… Who are you?” the small woman stammered, with a note of conviction intermingled with fear.
“My name is Jerris. I’m just a lost traveler, really. I’m really sorry. You don’t need that staff. I’m not going to hurt you, really.”
“No…that’s not what…you’re a…” The girl seemed genuinely frightened now. “Why did you run from me, mage, if you’re just a traveler?”
“It was you that was following me earlier? But why…”
“I’ll…I’ll ask the questions, mage,” she cut Jerris off in mid-sentence. “Why did you run?”
“Well I ran because some stranger was chasing me, obviously.”
The woman straightened up, her eyes slightly widened. She seemed to be left momentarily speechless at the somewhat obvious explanation. “So you’re not a Shade?”
“No, why would you think that? Do I look like one of them?”
“Er… well no… not exactly, but you’re too strong to be just an ordinary hedge wizard. My mage order keeps track of everyone with the gift, especially the strong ones, and there shouldn’t be anyone as strong as you here.”
“I just told you I was a traveler. I’m not from here.”
“So where are you from?”
This presented something of a problem. He couldn’t very well say he came from a hidden city that no one even knew existed. Even if he answered honestly, this girl might not believe him, and if he lied, she might be able to tell, and he really didn’t think he could come up with a believable one anyway. “I’m from…er…a place called Kantu. It’s in the north, near the dwarf city Vorog.”
“Oh. Oh well then.” Her face softened and she relaxed her grip on the staff. Jerris then noticed her eyes, deep emerald green, the color of leaves deep in summer. He stared rather absently into them, struck by the beauty of this mysterious girl. “I’m… very sorry then, but um… you really should learn to conceal yourself. Your aura is so strong, any mage with any sense is bound to notice you.”
“Well, I don’t really know how to do that. I don’t think my teacher does either, actually. Can you show me how?”
“Er…well… Yes I suppose I could give you the general idea I guess. It’s easier if you have clothing like mine. The Order may be able to give you some if you ask them. They sometimes issue suppressive clothes to outsiders just so they don’t end up in… well in confrontations like this. Of course, you’ll have to apply in Trinium.”
“Trinium! That’s where I’m going. Can you take me there?” Jerris blurted out excitedly.
“Um…Erm… I suppose…” The young woman flushed a shade of deep scarlet. “I guess it would be safer for you to have an escort, so that you don’t get arrested by accident. Some of the order… you know… the Inquisitors, they’re always looking for the Demon King’s spies, and they don’t like outsiders, especially if they have the gift. My grandfather says the Inquisitors… err…wait… nevermind.”
“You still haven’t told me your name.”
“It’s Niarie, but most people just call me Nia.”
“All right then… Nia,” Jerris said with a sheepish grin. “I guess the first thing to do is find somewhere to rest. I’ve been looking for an inn.”
“Yes I guess we can stay where I was staying… but um… could I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
“Are you really an elf, like a pureblood elf? I’ve er… always wanted to meet one.”
“Well, no, only half. My mother was an elf and my father was human, but Darien says it’s almost impossible to tell the difference between me and the other elves.”
“There’s others? In Kantu? Wait, did you say Darien? You don’t mean Darien the Executioner, the man they arrested and brought through here a few days back.” She raised her guard again and made what Jerris thought must be her best attempt at looking formidable. He once again had to stifle his laughter, though at the same time he realized that he had indeed said too much.
“Ahh, em, no, it’s a different Darien. Its er… a common name for elves,” he stammered, trying to think of something to say. “I’m Darien’s apprentice. I’m learning magic from him. I’m…er…making a journey to study other magical schools before I return to him.”
“You’re lying.” The girl turned beet red with anger. “You were with Darien. I’d heard there were two elves with him. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
For the first time in this conversation, Jerris actually became worried. He still wasn’t afraid of this girl, but he didn’t really want to fight her and cause a ruckus either. There were probably other, more formidable, members of her order nearby. She obviously had been able to read when he was lying, just like Darien could, and had been able to follow him, so she might have other magic. She certainly did seem confident. Jerris tried to work through his options as his teacher had taught him. He thought of turning to run, or of casting something to disable her before she could react, but he was at a significant disadvantage in a chase, because she knew the city much better, and could easily find him again. He probably could overpower her, but he still had trouble controlling his spells and could seriously injure her or even kill her unintentionally, which would be much worse than being arrested himself. He could try to use domination to plant a suggestion in her mind as he had with Ceres, but this young woman had obvious magical talent. Ceres was a skilled fighter, but fairly weak as a mage, and he had not had to worry about hurting her. This Nia was just a girl, a pretty girl, and the thought of staring into her emerald eyes and overcoming her will by force suddenly seemed quite unpleasant. The girl seemed to be turning redder by the second, losing patience. So, though he shud
dered to think what Darien would say about it, he decided to abandon caution and tell the truth. “Alright, alright. You got me. Yes, I was traveling with him, but it’s not what you think. He gave up without a fight, so he didn’t hurt anybody, and I need to get to Trinium so I can convince them to release him.” Of course, Jerris had every intention of freeing Darien using whatever means he could, but he had enough sense not to add that.
“Why would they care what you think, if you’re just his apprentice?”
“Well, actually, I’m… well that is… it’s sort of a long story.” Jerris sighed and shook his head. “It’s getting dark. Let’s go to that inn you mentioned and I’d be glad to tell you everything. I don’t know what you’ve been told about Darien. It seems everyone thinks he’s still working for the Demon King, but he isn’t. He really is teaching me magic, and he’s saved my life more than once. If they’re going to put him on trial or something, I think they should at least hear what I have to say. I give my word I don’t mean any harm, and since you’re escorting me to Trinium, you can keep an eye on me and make sure.”
“Well, you don’t really look or act like anyone working for the Demon King. You certainly don’t seem that impressive.” Jerris cringed inwardly. He had hoped to look at least a little impressive, but at least the confrontation was over. Nia lowered her guard again. “I guess it doesn’t make much sense for a spy to travel with a known criminal, either. I suppose I believe you.”
Finally, Nia put away her staff, strapping it on her back. She still looked rather ridiculous with the long pole protruding more than a foot over her head. They found an inn, where they secured a table, and talked long into the evening. Jerris told his story in its entirety, from his youth living with his mother in the Duke’s castle in Kantu, to his attempts at rescuing her, his chance meeting with Darien, the death of his mother, the flight from Kantu through Vorog and across the wilderness of the Craglands, the desperate fight with Avirosa the Wraith, the secret faerie sanctuary, and finally their arrival at the hidden valley of Kadanar.
Nia listened intently, her eyes increasingly filled with wonder and awe as he related his story. The confrontation in the street was quickly forgotten, and between the several glasses of cheap wine they consumed and the wide eyes of the lovely Nia, Jerris lost all sense of prudence, and told her nearly everything besides the location of Kadanar and the secrets he had seen in the Forest of the Sleepers. After he was finished, Nia asked several questions about the elves. It seemed to be a topic of some curiosity for her. When she had run out of questions, or at least was too tired to think of any more, they retired to their separate rooms. Jerris fell asleep gazing out the window at the stars, for the first time since Darien’s arrest, completely content. He had made his way on his own, made a friend, and now was on his way to Trinium.
Chapter 9: An Unlikely Ally
It never got any easier for Darien, seeing her in dreams— her raven hair, her soft green eyes, her kind face, her gentle hands. In some ways, this was worse than his nightmares from his days as a Shade. Here, he felt a connection to his mother though she was long gone. When we awoke, it would be gone, and that was what hurt the most.
He stared at the dust of the floor, at his own much smaller feet, while his mother scolded him. “You shouldn’t fight with the other children, Darien.” Her voice was gentle and soothing even as it was stern.
“They called me names. They made fun of me. I told them to leave me alone, but they wouldn’t stop. They followed me and wouldn’t go away. I just wanted them to go away,” the young Darien sobbed.
“You shouldn’t have gone to the village at all. I’ve warned you not to.”
“But it’s so boring here. I just wanted to watch them. I was hiding in some bushes. I didn’t want them to find me.”
“I understand, you’re impatient, and curious,” the mother consoled. “When you’re older, I’ll let you come to the village with me, but you must learn not to get into fights.”
“Why not? I asked them to leave me alone and they wouldn’t. They can’t hurt me. I’m faster and stronger than they are,” the boy half shouted through his tears.
“But you might hurt them,” she chided. “You don’t want that do you?” The young Darien did not answer, because in truth he did want to hurt them, and hoped he had. His mother read his silence easily, and spoke far more sternly. “You mustn’t think that way. Hurting others out of anger is always wrong, no matter how bad they treat you. That is a path to evil. Remember you won’t always be the strongest. One day that temper will get you into trouble.”
A moment later the scene vanished, and Darien opened his eyes to stare up once again at the white stone ceiling of his cell in Trinium. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, the former Shade found himself contemplating a troubling vision of his youth, the third time since he had been imprisoned. He had become accustomed to random memories surfacing in his dreams, but usually they were nightmares, dark visions of his time spent serving the Demon King. Though not at all like those, this dream troubled him almost as much. Perhaps, after all, it was only a dream. It possessed an even more distant and disconnected quality than his usual nightmares. He wanted to believe that. Darien had always assumed that the darkness within himself had been drilled into him by the Order of the Shade, but if this were truly a memory, then that defiant spirit had been in him long before, then that darkness had been in him all along. He found himself shaken by that possibility.
“Ahem.” The voice came from outside the cell. Perhaps, someone has finally come to interrogate me, he thought. He sat up in his cell, and surveyed his questioner. Just outside the bars stood a short, meek-looking, man. His small nose, thin mouth, and light skin made him appear younger than what his actual age must have been, though the lines beneath his almond eyes gave away that he must have been several years older than Darien. His wavy hair, the color of dried straw, was neatly combed to the right, so that it fell unevenly across his forehead, almost covering his right eye. He was of average height and weight, and not particularly fit. This was no fighter. He must be some sort of interrogator or even just a jailer. A sense of calmness and peace seemed to surround the man as he stood outside the cell, watching his prisoner with a look of reasoned contemplation, the look of an intelligent man, dispassionately considering an opponent. In contrast to his unimpressive figure, the short man seemed to possess a strange magical aura. Darien felt it pulling against his own energy, as if somehow draining the magic from his body. The feeling was new, and unsettling.
After several minutes of staring, during which Darien made no move to speak, or even stand up, the unidentified man finally spoke. “You’re Darien the Executioner?” he questioned with a somewhat disbelieving voice. The prisoner nodded his head disinterestedly, and the wavy-haired man moved on. “You don’t look that threatening. You don’t even look old enough to have done everything you’re supposed to have done, but then I suppose it’s hard to tell with your kind.” Darien allowed the insult to pass without so much as raising his head. “You gain nothing by silence. I am not your enemy for the moment. There are many among the Order who wish to make an example of you. Nevertheless, there are others who take a more practical view of this situation. If you wish to stay alive, you should speak to me, as others may not give you the opportunity.”
“All right then,” Darien spoke in a disinterested tone. “What is it you want to speak about? So far all you’ve done is insult and threaten me.”
“A fair point,” the man half chuckled. “Well then, I will come straight to the point. In two days’ time, you will be brought before a tribunal to answer for your crimes. Your sentence will depend upon what you say. I believe it would be extraordinarily foolish to sentence you to death given the current circumstances. Nevertheless, it may be difficult to prevail upon the other members of the tribunal.”
“So you’re a member of this tribunal then? I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“Ah yes, where are my manners? My name
is Traiz, Traize Tyreus, Deputy Grand Inquisitor of the Order of the Golden Shield.”
“Inquisition then? I must admit, I didn’t expect to have an advocate among your number.”
“Strange alliances for strange times, Executioner. Many in the Order would cling to their high-minded ideals until the Demon King is at our gates, and it would then be too late.” Traiz then lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. “I do not share such a short-sighted belief. I believe in doing whatever is necessary to defeat my enemy. If I see an opportunity, I do not wait for permission from those who fear to dirty their hands. I act.”
“So that’s it then, you have some use in mind for me?” Darien replied quietly, getting to his feet. “So what is it you want, Inquisitor, and what do I get if I help you?”
“I have heard what you first said to Geoffray, though it was not easy to get that information out of his knights.” Traiz now lowered his voice even further, and leaned close to the cell door. “You said you are looking for something here. What is it?”
The Executioner carefully weighed his options. It went against his instincts to trust blindly, and his first reaction was to tell this Inquisitor nothing. Nevertheless, he understood the difficulty of his position.
The Demon Sword, its sheath at least, remained nearby, in a room somewhere above him. The knights who had taken it had handled it extremely carefully, and he doubted they had removed the sword from its sheath. When he had entered the Hall of Judgements, as it was called, he had been brought to this cell, while the sword had been taken elsewhere, where it had remained ever since. As long as it remained, he had no reason to take any action. He had already thought of several ways to escape the cell. Though it contained enchantments to suppress and resist magic of all kinds, those would not be sufficient to hold him. After that, however, he had no plan, nor any knowledge of the city. At the moment, all options involved breaking out and fighting through a hostile city. Not impossible, not for him, but that would mean, killing hundreds, and ruin any chance of reasonable cooperation, an option that would be better for all concerned.
