Reflections in the Void: Book Two of the Demon's Blade Saga

by Steven Drake

  “Your point?”

  “You make no effort to disguise yourself among us. You know our ways, you ought to know what we would want to hear from a defector to our cause, but instead you remain as you are. You make no effort to ingratiate yourself.”

  Darien shrugged lazily. “Since I judged it unlikely you would trust me regardless of how much I pretended to agree with your convictions, I saw no reason to lie. The most sensible course was to make my argument truthfully and succinctly, appealing to your reason and your desire to defeat your enemy.”

  “You chose correctly. Had you attempted deception, I would have tested you more thoroughly, made you wait, set you tasks to earn our trust. You may be able to deceive people long enough to kill them or manipulate them, but sooner or later, the lack of any sincerity becomes obvious. A snake can only disguise itself for so long,” the Grandmaster smiled.

  “We are all snakes, Grandmaster,” the Executioner countered. “You cannot live without deception any more than you can live without bread. You deceive each other every day, to acquire wealth, to curry favor from your superiors, to appear more powerful or wealthy than you are, even trivialities like protecting your precious feelings. Women use disguises simply to trick men long enough to bind them with marriage. For men, it is easier, he need only trick the woman with pretty words long enough so that she will lie with him. Worse yet is when you deceive yourselves with false gods and hopeless notions of honor and justice.” Darien chuckled and smirked to further emphasize his disdain. ”Yes, Grandmaster, we are not so different. We are all snakes. I simply do not claim to be anything else.”

  “I see.” The Grandmaster frowned. “Is that really how you see us, how you see yourself?”

  “I see only what is, and nothing else, because I was taught to see the truth, even when the truth is harsh and ugly,” Darien commented. “The illusions you embrace make you weak. The enemy you face will use them against you.”

  “You must have had a difficult life, to think such things. Love, companionship, passion, dedication, conviction, justice, faith, sacrifice, all illusions are they?”

  Darien nodded confidently. “Dangerous illusions, which twist the minds of the weak, and distract them from the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “That there is only one law, the strong survive and the weak obey. If they cannot obey, they perish. That is the only real law, the only one that exists on its own, without any declaration from a king, or pronouncement of a judge, the only law that requires no power to enforce. Every other law, every code, every creed, they must all be backed by power, and they can always be overthrown by greater power.”

  “The exact thing I would expect a Shade to say. You still embrace their teachings. Why then, did you leave their Order? Of all the questions, that is the one I find most perplexing,” the Grandmaster said calmly. Darien immediately realized that the Grandmaster had orchestrated the entire conversation skillfully, to catch him in a contradiction, or force him to lie. I should not have spoken first, Darien cursed himself. I allowed my impatience to get the better of me. Of course, Darien had no intention of telling this possible enemy anything like the truth, but he had to give some sort of answer that would satisfy this man. After all, although the Grandmaster had revealed the location of the sword, he could still choose to withdraw his support from the quest. After a long moment of silence, the old man spoke again. “I take it your reasons are personal, then. I asked Rana, but she wouldn’t tell me. Whether because she was unwilling or simply didn’t know, I could not tell. I asked your young elven friend, and he refused to tell me as well, though I could tell he does know the answer.” Darien sat frozen, unable to think clearly. Try as he might, he could think of no convincing lie. The Grandmaster stood and walked around the desk until he was standing over the now distressed Executioner, and spoke again. “I’ll make it easy for you then. There are only so many things that will have any lasting effect upon a man like you, and I can only think of one that would cause such a man to take such a risk, to do something as reckless as steal the Demon Sword. Whoever he killed must have been very important to you, more important than anyone still among the living. Who was it? Who was so important to Darien the Executioner, so as to ignite the passions in his frozen heart? Whose death set you on this path?”

  Darien began to sweat. The vision of his mother lying dead, her head lying in a wicker basket, an expression of fear and surprise frozen on her face, flashed brightly into his mind. Then the face of Kirin, his former tutor, shone in his mind, as he had been after he had been tortured nearly to death for treachery against the Demon King. He remembered the broken, beaten, mostly dead face confessing the secret that had nearly driven him mad; Kirin had been sent by the Demon King not to kill his mother, but to arrange her death so that the young Darien would believe it was humans who were responsible. Then he saw the face of Avirosa, the man who had secretly posed as the headsman, and swung the axe that ended his mother’s life. He tried to banish the visions but could not. He shut his eyes tight, realizing it was no use. “It was my mother. He sent two of his mages to arrange her death, then use my anger and desperation to convince me to join them willingly. When I learned the truth, that’s when I started planning to steal the sword.”

  “I see. So that’s the answer then. Now I understand.” The Grandmaster walked back around the desk and sat down again. “I apologize for putting you through that, but there is far too much that depends on you for me to trust blindly. Now it all makes sense. Why you guard this secret so closely, I do not know. There are many who would pity you and even forgive you, in spite of everything you have done, in spite of everything you believe, in spite of what you are.”

  “I do not seek pity, nor forgiveness,” Darien countered, his voice still quiet and passive as he recovered from the visions, which were just beginning to subside.

  “No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” the Grandmaster sighed. “Though perhaps you should. What of your friend, Lady Rana? She has every reason to hate you, yet she agreed to aid you on this quest, at great personal risk. Have you ever so much as asked her forgiveness?”

  “I have not, and I would not. I would never ask her for that. I said so when we first met. She has every right to feel the way she does toward me, every right. Her scorn is my burden to bear, as is the sword I carry,” Darien declared, regaining his resolve.

  “Hmm, so that’s it. Do you imagine that allowing yourself to be an object of her hatred benefits her? Hatred, wrath, vengeance, whatever you call it, is destructive, even when it is well deserved.” The Grandmaster paced back and forth behind his desk, sighing. “You do not ask forgiveness because you want her to hate you. You want her to scorn you. In some perverse, twisted way, you enjoy it, and only that continuous punishment will satisfy your sense of responsibility, but that is the problem with you. You only consider what you want, what you believe, what you see as truth. In that way, you are still a Shade, and if you cannot see beyond yourself, you will never be anything else.”

  “What are you talking about?” Darien wondered aloud. “Rana may no longer wish to kill me, but she will never forget what happened to her family. It was and is her driving purpose.”

  “No, Darien, it is not.” That simple statement stopped the mind of the Shade cold. The old man had spoken plainly, with conviction, and there was no doubt in his voice, no hint of a lie or deception.

  “If you’re so sure of that, then tell me why? Why did she want to go on this quest? Why did you allow her to go? It doesn’t make any sense.” Darien hoped that the Grandmaster would at least give him that information. Rana’s insistence on making this journey made no sense. It defied all reason, and it lingered as a distraction in the back of Darien’s mind.

  “If you can’t see it, it would be unwise to tell you. I do not think you are ready to hear it.” The Grandmaster sighed deeply, seemingly unwilling to share Rana’s motivation. If it wasn’t for vengeance, what was her reason for undertaking this quest, Darien wonde
red? “But I will say this. If you really want Rana to live her own life, and move on, then allow her to forgive you. What you are doing now, I fear she does not understand.”

  The Grandmaster sat back down and stared at a portrait of a woman with long curly brown hair that hung on the wall, perhaps the man’s wife, or his mother. Darien was uncertain what else he could or should say. The strain of having his past dragged out of him by the Grandmaster had left him exhausted. He could not make any sense of the older man’s words about Rana, and indeed, he was now more confused about her motivations than he had been before.

  Finally, the Grandmaster broke the silence. “I suppose that is all I wished to discuss, but I will also offer you this warning. Be careful in whom you place your trust. I fear one or more of your companions may be compromised. I would like to say I trust my subordinates, but I am afraid I cannot afford that luxury. Any of them may be working for the enemy.”

  “Who would you suspect most?”

  “Geoffray is volatile, but he would not serve the enemy. Traiz is perhaps the only Inquisitor I trust at all. I cannot rule out the dwarves, either, but in truth, I am suspicious of the Archmage as I never have been before. To send his inexperienced granddaughter makes little sense. He’s usually so protective of her, and to send her on such a risky mission is odd. It may be that he has been preparing her for this all along.” It did certainly seem suspicious. Though Darien had not thought of it before, Niarie was the one who found Jerris first. Perhaps she already knew who she was looking for. Niarie had then brought Jerris to the council, presumably to prevent an execution that would put the Demon Sword in the hands of the Order of the Golden Shield, a much worse scenario for the Demon King. Her negative reaction to her assignment seemed genuine, but could be faked by someone skilled enough. The possibility troubled him, especially given the fact that Jerris had told her so much. “You may go now,” the Grandmaster concluded. “I wish you good luck. May the Seven guide you.”

  The Executioner then turned and walked out the door. A fierce mental exhaustion had come over him. He hadn’t really known what to expect from the meeting with the Grandmaster, but he had not expected anything like this. When he got to his room, he shut the heavy door and laid down to rest, but as soon as he shut his eyes, he was awakened again by a familiar voice.

  “He’s a very formidable man, isn’t he?” the thin wispy voice of Ezra cut through the darkness.

  “He is, I suppose,” Darien answered. He sat up to find the source of the voice, but the darkened room was empty. “Where are you?” he whispered to the darkness.

  “By now, you shouldn’t be too surprised to learn that I can speak to you without actually physically appearing.”

  “Well, yes, of course, but you’ve always appeared before, and I feel silly talking to the air.”

  “You don’t need to actually speak. Just think what you intend to say, as though you were using one of your domination spells. Project the thought.”

  Darien did as Ezra instructed. It felt strange to speak without actually speaking, but he conceded that it would have advantages. “Like this?”

  “Excellent work Darien.” Ezra seemed pleased with himself. Darien found himself surprised that this was not like a voice in his head, as his own thoughts, but rather it sounded as if Ezra were really outside somewhere in the room. All the intonations and inflections, the tone and the attitude of the old man’s voice sounded clearly in his ears and in his mind.

  Why do we need to communicate like this? Darien projected his thought, attempting to include both the thought and the tone of voice as well.

  “It may be necessary for me to speak to you when your companions are present, and since you have so many now, I thought it prudent to prepare you for this.” Darien could hear a slight chuckle in Ezra’s voice. This was truly a strange experience. “But you have other things you wish to discuss with me, do you not?”

  “Where were you?” Darien sent with what he thought was greater force. “I spent two weeks in a cell, don’t you think that would have made a better time to converse?”

  “My apologies, but I was… otherwise occupied. I do have other business to attend to besides you,” Ezra scolded.

  “Never mind then,” Darien thought. “You were right. The Order of the Golden Shield knew where to find the Star Sword, and we’ll be leaving to find it tomorrow.”

  “Yes I know,” Ezra thought. “As I had thought. I had actually hoped they had the sword, or had access to its hiding place. To give it to the Ebonscale, what were they thinking?”

  “Well, at least we know where to go from here. It will be a challenge, but it’s better than nothing.” Darien was, in fact, still somewhat surprised it had been so easy to get the information. He had feared having to blaze a trail of blood and gore through Trinium, and Ezra would not approve of that. Meeting with the Ebonscale would not be easy. They were aggressive, violent, and tended to distrust outsiders. Ezra seemed to dislike the idea of giving the Star Sword to them, but Darien did not really care about the old man’s opinions on dragons. The most pressing question was the same one that had appeared when Traiz brought the Demon Sword to Darien’s cell. “I have to tell you something about the sword. Perhaps you already know, but it was behaving strangely when it was separated from me. A black smoke appeared to emanate from it. Do you know what it was, or why it happened?”

  “Ah yes, that.” Ezra’s voice seemed to be hiding a sigh. ”What you saw was not smoke, but energy, demonic energy, at least as we in this world perceive it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Unfortunately, I knew the time would come when I would have to explain more fully how the sword works,” Ezra thought. Darien nodded an acknowledgement, but then, of course, realized that he was nodding at no one. This method of communication was disorienting, but nevertheless, the old man seemed to have recognized the nod to the darkness as he spoke again. “The Demon Sword functions by granting its wielder the ability to wield demonic energy, but that energy is fundamentally unlike our magical energy. Where our magic can manipulate, move, and alter the energy of our world, the demon’s energy is completely different. Demonic energy has no physical form, no reality.”

  “What does that mean? How can we see it if it has no form?”

  “Hmm, how to explain.” Ezra quieted and Darien got the sense the old man was deep in thought. Somehow, he could picture the bent old man pacing back and forth in the fog on Lake Kalena. “I have told you, have I not, that seeing a thing does not make it real, nor does failing to see it make it unreal.”

  “Yes I recall that conversation, when you came to me after Jerris’ mother died. You were trying to explain how the Demon Sword was still corrupting me without my being aware of it.”

  “Yes, precisely. I am always glad to hear you remember my advice.”

  “What does that have to do with this?” Darien asked.

  “There are limits to what we are able to see, hear, feel. Size, strength, weight, energy, color, all those ways we define objects, simply do not apply to demons. What we perceive instead are reflections of those things, distorted images which the demons may alter at will.” Ezra paused, and Darien waited anxiously. The sound of his own breath hissing in and out seemed to grow louder in the silent darkness. After what seemed an interminable wait, Ezra spoke again. “You have seen an image in a mirror. The reality determines what appears in the mirror. Imagine, however, if that were reversed, the image changed our reality. Just as an artist may paint a canvas to reflect whatever is in his own mind, a demon shapes reality itself.” Darien became aware of the pounding of his heart in his chest as he slowly grasped the truth. This was why everything touched by demonic energy became warped and twisted. They had no limits, no definitions. Like a blank canvas, they were limitless possibility. They could become as awful or powerful or terrifying as the mind could imagine.

  “Unlimited power and potential. It is a wonder they were defeated so long ago. It seems impossible, the way yo
u describe them.”

  “They are not truly unlimited. They have a few simple weaknesses. They cannot see the future, nor can they control everything within their power all at once. They are intelligent, but they are not perfect. They can make mistakes. They can be tricked, deceived, confused, or persuaded. Their understanding of our world is limited, especially when they lack experience. Moreover, they are still subject to the limits of their own minds, whatever those might be.” So, they have flaws, even if infinitesimally small, Darien thought. Their godlike power still can be defeated by luck or superior wit, a thin branch to cling to, but better than nothing.

  Darien shuddered as another thought crossed his mind. “How and why were such creatures ever brought into the world?”

  “Who knows what the first summoners were thinking? As I understand it, the actual summoning of demons required powerful mages, and materials that are now unobtainable. Few ever possessed such terrible knowledge, and now it is lost. Let us pray it remains so.” Ezra’s voice faded, taking on a distant quality Darien had never heard before. For just a moment, it sounded almost as though the old man were speaking to himself, but when Ezra spoke again, his tone returned to normal. “Ultimately, it is not important to know everything about demons, even for you. You need only understand the sword and its power. Demonic power manifests in our world by a joining of energies, the demon’s spirit binds to the magic and life energy within a possessed soul. With the Demon Sword, the elves hoped to fight the demons on even terms, and they succeeded, by doing the unthinkable. When the Demon Sword bonds to a person, it alters their magical energy just as would happen if they were possessed, by pulling them part way into the demons’ realm.”

  The Shade’s mind reeled at a revelation truly beyond his experience. Nothing that he had ever encountered or even read had prepared him for something so incredible. This was something far beyond magic, something that seemed to bend the very laws of nature. ”You mean there’s an entire world of demons? And I’m being pulled into it? Does that mean what I think it means…” Darien let the question linger in his mind without an answer.