Sunweaver

by Ryan W. Mueller

  With a heavy heart, Rella began the march out of the Brotherhood's headquarters.

  Chapter 19: The Missing Page

  Deril still didn't know what to make of the lost scriptures. On some level, they fit better than the scriptures he'd always known, but he couldn't erase a lifetime of belief in a few days. He spent hours and hours in the archives, searching through the dusty volumes for anything that might help.

  When he'd decided to become a spy, he hadn't expected this. Where was the excitement, the adventure? He loved learning, loved questioning things, but day after day in the archives quelled that enthusiasm. Tiran looked bored as well, absently flipping pages.

  But what else could they do? They couldn't go spying on anyone in the Brotherhood without at least some information. There had to be something here that would help.

  Deril looked up from his reading. "What if we're looking in all the wrong places?"

  "How can we know?" Tiran said, letting his book close with a sigh.

  "I feel like everything we're reading is just a different account of the same events. It's not telling us anything new. Perhaps we should look somewhere else."

  "I agree," Tiran said. "But where?"

  Deril got up and paced at the end of an aisle. The archives were silent around them. Occasionally, other people entered, but no one paid much attention to anyone else in here. Sondir had also made a few visits, checking on their progress and leaving disappointed.

  But not as disappointed as Deril. Deril felt like he was useless. Again.

  Footsteps sounded, and Deril glanced back to see that Sondir was paying them another visit. The man approached with a deep frown.

  "Find anything?" he asked. He didn't sound hopeful.

  Deril fought to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Is there anything you can tell us that might help? Any speculation about why they might have taken my father? I feel like there should be some connection between the mysterious Sunlord deaths and what's happening now." He was pacing again. "Why would they want to eliminate all the Sunlords?"

  "Not necessarily all of them," Sondir said, leaning against a stone shelf. "There's no proof your father's dead. If they'd wanted your father dead, your brother could have killed him right there in the temple. Your father was right at the end of his daily sun ritual, too weak to fight back."

  "I know," Deril said. "Why would they want only one Sunlord? For some reason, they had to kill all the other Sunlords and kidnap the one remaining. Why?"

  Sondir scratched his chin in thought. "I think we need to put ourselves in the minds of Halarik's Chosen. What do they want more than anything?"

  "To kill all Sunweavers and Suncasters," Deril said.

  "I'm not so sure about that," Sondir said. "Yes, that is one of their goals, but is that their primary goal. Remember that they worship Halarik as your people worship Aralea. What's the greatest desire of anyone who worships Aralea?"

  "To see the goddess," Tiran said. "To speak to her."

  "Exactly," Sondir said, his expression brightening. "In the case of Aralea, we know that's not possible, but it is possible with Halarik. He's still alive."

  Deril's stomach twisted. "To see him, they must free him. Do you think that all this could have something to do with freeing him?"

  "You've read the scriptures now," Sondir said. "Halarik might be a god, but more importantly, he is a very powerful Firelord. Firelords and Sunlords are opposed by nature. Perhaps Sunlords must be eliminated in order for Halarik to return."

  Deril thought that through. It did seem logical, but something was missing. "Then maybe we should find information on how Halarik might be freed. After all, there is no such thing as a perfect prison." He smiled at Sondir. "Thank you."

  "It's only a hypothesis, and a rather weak one, I must say, but you never know. Perhaps it will lead you to something you need. You should find information on Halarik's prison a few shelves that way." Sondir pointed to Deril's left.

  Deril located these shelves with newfound enthusiasm. Even here, though, most of the titles looked useless. He scanned the books until he found something on Halarik's prison. There were a few of these books, so he also gave one to Tiran.

  The book smelled old and dusty, as though no one had opened it for ages. Could their answer lie in something no one had read for so long? Deril turned the pages with care, sometimes forgetting to breath. He prayed that this was the right path to follow.

  Not that prayer would do him any good. Aralea wasn't listening.

  Or was she? He still couldn't put all his faith in these lost scriptures.

  The book began with a summary of the events leading up to Halarik's imprisonment, which Deril skimmed, making sure nothing was different. When he reached the section detailing Halarik's prison, he focused on every word, vowing he wouldn't miss anything.

  Aralea's powerful weave, combined with her sacrifice, sent Halarik to another realm, a place of perpetual gloom and mist where Halarik could still draw on his powers without affecting this world. Yet more information Deril had never heard before. Were these all lies, or had the Church been hiding the truth for six hundred years?

  In truth, he'd wondered about a lot of the vagueness in the original scriptures. He'd attributed it to the failings of human memory, but perhaps there was more to it.

  He read the next few passages, noting every detail. To his disappointment, this section concerned speculation. Not what he needed.

  Still, maybe there was something to it. The author of this book did take guesses on what might lead to freeing Halarik. If a powerful weave could imprison him, then another powerful weave could free him. But how could anyone perform this weave?

  Deril put the book aside and turned to Tiran. "Found anything?"

  "It's all rather vague. Interesting, but vague."

  "Perhaps we're chasing the wrong idea."

  Tiran looked up. "We can't give up so quickly. We have no other leads."

  Deril sighed, but he knew Tiran was right. With so many books, they were sure to find something. Deril scanned a few more titles and picked one that looked promising.

  Once again, he found a vague account and a lot of speculation. Some of the arguments were the exact same ones he'd already seen. Frustrated, he returned the book to the shelf.

  Over the next few days, he grew more and more irritated. Every day he spent here was a day his father could come closer to death, a day when the world might find out that the Sunlord was missing. Deril had kept up with the news, and the Sun Guard had done a good job keeping it quiet. But for how long?

  Deril wished again that he could feel the sun like his father. Was it weakening? Was the Sunlord still doing his job?

  As Deril continued his search, he found a book that looked older and more tattered than any other. He turned the pages with great care, scanning the words and praying.

  This book was written by a Firelord from the time of Halarik's imprisonment. In fact, parts of it spoke of the time before Aralea won the war. This author had suspected what Aralea intended to do, so he had researched what might counteract such a powerful weave.

  Deril's chest tightened with anticipation, and he hunched over the book like he'd done as a child in the temple library. Again, this was speculation, but it seemed more informed. Deril turned a page, ready to see what the author had to say, and his stomach lurched.

  A page had been torn out of the book.

  The exact page he needed.

  "Damn," he said, feeling like throwing the book. Only his respect for the ancient pages kept him from doing so. He turned to Tiran. "I found what we needed, but a page is missing."

  "Like somebody tore it out?" Tiran said.

  "Exactly."

  "So we have to figure out who else accessed these archives. Perhaps we could find them and take the page from them." Tiran shook his head. "Unless they're in the Frozen Lands by now."

  Deril gazed at the floor, restraining his urge to kick something. "I have the feeling they are."

&nb
sp; "We should speak to Sondir."

  "I know," Deril said, tucking the book under his arm. He and Tiran made their way out of the archives and across the central chamber. A few people greeted them as they passed. They hadn't spent all their time in the library, so they knew a few Brotherhood members.

  Deril knocked on the door to Sondir's office.

  "Come in."

  Deril walked to the stone desk and laid the ancient book atop it.

  "What is this?" Sondir asked, examining the book as Deril and Tiran took seats.

  "I think this is what we've been searching for," Deril said, "but it's missing the exact page containing what we need." He leaned forward, staring at Sondir. "Who else might have seen this book? Can you recall anyone showing an interest in this stuff?"

  Sondir scratched his beardless chin. "Now that you mention it, I did see your brother in the same section of the archives recently. I didn't ask him what he was doing."

  "Of course," Deril said, realization settling over him like a heavy weight. "I bet he found this, whatever it is he's been looking for, and kidnapped my father because of it. I'm glad we found something out, but I feel like we're still wandering in the dark."

  Sondir looked across the desk in deep thought, as though he hadn't heard what Deril said. "I was wondering something. Have you attempted to contact your father since his kidnapping?"

  "I did," Deril said, "but they must have him shielded. My weave couldn't get through."

  "I figured that was the case," Sondir said, looking away in thought.

  Deril fought against the hopelessness threatening to overwhelm him. "What can we do now? Our best lead has dried up. Should we go after my father now and hope we can figure out the reasons for his kidnapping in the process." Tears came to his eyes. "I have to do something."

  "You can't act without thinking," Sondir said. "You can't act without help. Perhaps you'll need to go there without the knowledge you seek, but I can't let you go alone. You'll never make it past the Fire Guard without Fireweavers on your side." He fell silent for a moment. "You're going to have to gain our trust."

  "And how're we going to do that?" Tiran asked, leaning forward in his stone chair.

  "I doubt you'll like it. Among Fireweavers, trust does not come easily. The people of the Brotherhood have accepted your presence here, but they still watch you with suspicion. You're going to have to do some things that go against your beliefs if you want to gain their trust."

  "What kind of things?" Deril asked, stomach churning.

  "Missions. The Brotherhood isn't only a haven for Fireweavers. It's an organization dedicated to those your Church is persecuting, those about to face execution for an accident of birth. If you want to earn our help, you'll have to break the laws of your nation."

  Tiran gave Sondir a stern look. "You're talking about freeing prisoners. I can accept that Fireweavers aren't evil, but what you're asking violates the oaths I took as a Sun Guard. It's treason. If we're caught, we'll be hanged. Even Deril."

  "It's a risk we'll have to take," Deril said, amazed at the words coming out of his mouth. He remembered Captain Hanir's warning. "I know it's dangerous, Tiran, but this is about the fate of the world."

  Tiran hesitated a few long moments. "Well, when you say it like that, I have to agree."

  "There are some things we will not do, however," Deril said. "We will not kill anyone in carrying out our duties. We will do our best to avoid harming anyone."

  "Are you sure that's wise?" Sondir asked. "As you've said, the fate of the world itself may be at stake. What are a few deaths compared to extinction?"

  "I'm not going to kill good people," Deril said.

  "And in doing so, you might kill everyone."

  "I know."

  Chapter 20: Atarin

  Rella marched south from Rindel, shielded by the Fire Guards so that she couldn't perform any weaves. In all, they formed a group of six: the four Fire Guards, her, and Soren. She tried to avoid looking at Soren. Even though she couldn't use her Fireweaving, she could still hit him.

  The Fire Guards kept watch over her. They didn't quite treat her like a prisoner—she was allowed to walk freely—but there was no doubt she was a prisoner.

  Once they left the city, the cold returned, though the shield around her relieved it to some degree. Soren was casting Red to create heat around the group. For that, she felt grateful.

  They followed roads through the snowy landscape, across steep hills, and into wide valleys. The snow came on and off, in bursts from light to blinding. Soon she couldn't stop shivering, and she had no idea how the Fire Guards and Soren were faring so well.

  Would she ever get used to the Frozen Lands?

  That night, they stopped to rest in a valley, where they started a fire and roasted some snow rabbits they'd caught. Rella huddled as close to the fire as she dared, still shivering.

  The captain sat across from Rella. "You look cold," the woman said. "In time, you'll get used to the Frozen Lands. You'll also be happy to know that Firelord Atarin keeps his palace warm."

  Rella's teeth chattered. "That-that's good to know."

  "Why are you so unhappy?" the captain asked. "This is a great opportunity for you. Even if you aren't a Firelord, you'll live in luxury the rest of your life."

  I don't want to live in luxury, Rella thought bitterly. Out loud, she said, "I'm not sure I can support Firelord Atarin. I grew up in Tarileth. There are a lot of good people there, Sunweavers included. Does Firelord Atarin truly mean to kill them?"

  "Sometimes sacrifices must be made," the captain said. "I do believe, however, that he will spare anyone who surrenders to him and embraces Halarik."

  Rella fought back a bitter laugh. "Well, I can't see that happening. People in Tarileth believe too strongly in Aralea. They won't accept the god they've always seen as evil."

  "Do you believe Halarik is evil?" the captain asked.

  "That's what I grew up believing, but I have questioned it. I'm surely not evil, and my powers come from Halarik. Maybe things happened differently back then."

  "There are a lot of holes in your scriptures," the captain said. "For one thing, the goddess you worship is dead. She died when she imprisoned Halarik."

  "Do you have any proof for that?"

  "The original scriptures. Not those altered ones your Church teaches."

  Rella should have felt violent opposition to that statement, but she didn't. She'd become numb to all the new revelations in her life. Perhaps the society she grew up in was wrong about everything. After all, they were wrong about her, about Fireweavers in general.

  "Tell me why you worship Halarik," she said.

  "Why shouldn't we worship the god who gave us our powers?"

  "But he also made the world a brutal place to live," Rella said. "Even your people have suffered because of what he did. If he hadn't weakened the sun, we wouldn't have all the war and hatred we do. You can't say Halarik had nothing to do with that. Why do you want him back?"

  "With his powers, we could finally have a world where everyone, Sunweaver and Fireweaver, can coexist. Yes, there may be a lot of death along the way, but that's not what Firelord Atarin wants. That's not what Halarik wants."

  Rella struggled to take this all in. At the same time, though, she wanted to know everything, wanted to figure out what she believed. "How can you know what Halarik wants?"

  "The scriptures again. Your version of history leaves out many of Halarik's motivations. Yes, he was jealous, but he had good reason. His own people were betraying him, taking Aralea's side. Maybe he shouldn't have done what he did, but you have to understand his motivations. He had to prove he was the greater god."

  "Why did they hate each other so much?" Rella asked, amazed that she was having such a calm discussion. She'd always believed that Halarik was evil, and while she hadn't changed her views, she was at least curious. What harm could come from a little information?

  "Because of the war in the God Realm. Some of our most ancient
accounts speak of a major rebellion there, involving countless gods. Over time, we believe, there was a great deal of reconciliation, but old grudges don't die so easily."

  "Do you know why they rebelled?" Rella asked. "And who they were rebelling against?"

  The captain brushed at her blond hair. "That we do not know. Matters of the gods are beyond our understanding."

  Rella remained close to the fire, relishing in its warmth and trying to understand everything the captain had told her. "This story sounds rather vague. How do you know Halarik isn't evil?"

  "It is a vague tale, I suppose," the captain said with a deep sigh. "But we know that beings greater than us exist. We know that Halarik is still alive, that he stands the greatest chance at directly influencing our world. I don't believe he's the evil being your Church makes him out to be."

  "But it could all be a trick," Rella said. "Maybe Halarik only wants you to think he isn't evil. After all, he did try to destroy the sun, and that has caused a great deal of suffering."

  "That is also true," the captain said. "But you can't claim that suffering has happened only at the hands of Halarik. Your own Aralea began the persecution of Fireweavers. Your Church has continued that persecution. What makes Sunweavers any better?"

  Rella had no argument for that, but something about all these new revelations bothered her. Was it a lifetime of indoctrination, or was there some reason she shouldn't switch her loyalties and beliefs? She'd never lived with so many questions, so much uncertainty.

  Already, her old life felt like a distant memory.

  Rella could tell that the woman didn't feel like saying any more on the subject. The other guards hadn't talked to her much. They were busy watching over the campsite or speaking with Soren.

  The small party continued to the south, stopping occasionally in towns and cities—most of which looked like Rindel, with stone buildings and countless Sunlamps. Gradually, the Fire Guards allowed Rella more freedom, for she showed no intention of running away. They also stopped shielding her. She felt like running away, but they weren't giving her that much freedom.