by Marc Mulero
Eres watched the Reach-enchanted door swallow Ren on his way out and then whirled back to the group. “Have you been able to gather any more footage of Seren?” He passed his gaze between them. “Anything? Nothing? Damn it.”
“The man is a ghost, Eres,” Vindom affirmed. “All we have are the prints of an invisible demon before it disperses into the wind. He is, however, known to frequent the Colliding Spheres for longer periods. But that place is sanctuary. So much as an octor recording could mean your head over there. Those crimson assassins keep strict order.”
“The Sindus… yep, they’re terrifying,” Eres agreed. “And they bow to the former Champion.” He nodded to Vasa. “Maybe-”
“Out of the question,” Vasa snapped. “The Colliding Spheres is my second home. We will not try and infiltrate Seren there. First of all, we would be dead on sight… second, you would destroy the sanctity of neutrality upheld for generations.”
“How about just a conversation, then? I’ve encountered him before.”
“Isn’t your presence here a secret? An upper hand even. Why relinquish that?” Vindom asked calmly. “You are on a mission, Eres. That much is clear, but we must postulate our reasoning first, calculate our odds, for our goal is not only to thwart a murderer.”
Eres felt like he was jabbed in the gut with guilt. “Wudon.”
“Yes. The Alliance’s most valuable asset and this group’s great friend. If we can pinpoint Seren in a recurring location, perhaps we can identify where Wudon is being held.”
Eres could never forget that day, right there at Kor. Hundreds of armed soldiers swarming to get students in line, killing to make a point. They announced the bloodshed could end, if only the living Skrol hiding among them would give himself up. And that’s what Wudon did… without question, for the greater good. He surrendered in the center square of the Elite Wing.
“Oof,” he sighed, “so you all are as much in the dark as I am.”
“Hence the name the Silent War,” Vindom patted him on the shoulder, “but do not lose hope. We will gain ground, together.”
Eres sniffed, unconvinced. “That kind of brings me to my next question: Who are ‘we,’ exactly? Who else has pledged?”
“Just us… the ones who assembled to free you from Elesion a time ago. Myself, Herim here, Alphonze obviously, and your peers: Windel-”
Eres winced.
“Crow.”
He winced harder.
“And someone else who you obviously made an impression on at some point.”
“Who?”
“Nuganzia. Along with others-”
If Eres was gulping down a drink, he would have spit it all over them. “The Swul? What?”
“Yes. She came to me when she heard of Alphonze’s imprisonment, suspicious that we were after you.”
He thought back once again to that terrible day when Kor was attacked. It was then, when they fought side-by-side to take down terrorists. It must’ve been then.
“She’s a much more powerful ally now than she was as a student and has grown into exactly what you would’ve expected her to be.” Vindom peered down at him.
“A Swul warrior.”
“Undoubtedly so,” Vasa said. “One worthy of praise. She trains for the Colliding Spheres.”
“Of course.” Eres shook his head. “I should contact the UnderSpire. They could help us.”
“The what?” Herim asked.
“Where Ilfrid dropped me off, remember?”
“I wasn’t aware it had a name.”
“Well, it certainly does-”
Vindom squeezed Eres’ shoulder lightly. “I wouldn’t.” His eyes suddenly seemed far away. He was concentrating on something else. It was obvious.
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Contact them.”
“Umm, why?”
“A Reacher reported to me that a fleet of KQ terrorist shiders crossed into Verglas not a week ago.”
“What?” Eres broke away, considering the sound he heard before freezing to death over there, he’d thought it was Ilfrid, was sure it was a shider. What else could it have been? And now a report? Too coincidental for sure.
“Was I being tailed?”
“Impossible, Eres.” Vasa stepped forward. “There were no ships in any direction for miles. And even if they tracked us, we never stopped moving. Remember? You jumped out of a rushing shider.”
“But Seren knew my location. He’d been there. He was trained in the same fashion. Although…”
“Although what?” Vasa seemed worried now.
“Ramillion.”
“Who-”
“Kind of like this grandfather of the UnderSpire. An old, old Skrol trainer. He’s a Kujin Sorcerer. Yes, I know, I had the same reaction. But trust me, the Dead Arts are very much alive. It’s not just us here in the Osa Sphere practicing Reach,” he motioned to Vindom, “there are other elements at play. Anyway, he said that Seren would never go there. I suspect it has something to do with enchantments placed around the place.”
“Enchantments… oh my,” Vindom scratched his beard, “only in the oldest tomes have those been discussed.”
“They’re real, trust me.” He thought back to the living lightning spirit that nearly impaled him back in the Northern Grottos.
“I believe you, Eres, but the masses, these generations,” he gestured to the school in session below them, “would never.”
Eres waved the idea away. “They don’t have to. I’m not here to open Ingora’s eyes, not about magic anyway. I don’t have a bone in my body able to produce Sindah.”
Vindom squinted his eyes, placed his arms behind his back, and bent forward to inspect him. “You, my fellow Dawn, have grown tremendously over the years… in ways I would not have imagined.”
“Okay…” Eres was less impressed with himself. “Well, I gathered what I could while traveling the spheres, read every tome I could get my hands on. But really, it was all to learn about this.” He flashed his esper, making all eyes glint at the sight. “This thing that my father had to sacrifice himself for, and I still don’t understand why.”
Silence followed. It wasn’t the awkward kind, but the pensive type as they all circled the large live map once more. And then it was broken when Alphonze reentered, head down, staring at some parchment.
“Three past locations and one future. Okay, Tree-ella, sixteen days ago… six, forty-one, five. Mark it.”
Vasa traced numeric lines on the map and then coded the marking. “Okay, next.”
“SklarBenDee, seven days ago, fourteen, fourteen, seven.”
“The Eplon City? Didn’t Spera grow up there? Yes, I think she did,” Eres blurted. “Maybe she was meeting family or something.”
“Hold on now, Eres.” Vindom held up a hand, looking intently at the map.
“Next.” Vasa was ready.
“Teos, four days ago. One, three, sixty-two.”
Swul mainland, probably for political purposes. Would Seren really follow along?
The live map traced the coordinates on Vasa’s request: a black line for Seren’s marks, and a gold one for the Imperion’s. There was a pattern match, for sure, an overlap, and now everyone in the room had a hand covering their mouth.
“Hold on a second.” Vasa rounded the table, her skirt swishing at her ankles. “If Spera really did have an esper, I would expect the time stamps to be in reverse. But here, look, Seren’s prints occur before Spera’s. The Imperions are chasing him, not the other way around.”
“Well of course, he’s a mass murderer,” Ren said.
“Yes… but then what is Seren chasing?” Eres spoke up.
Vindom turned away to the circular window letting in a warm breeze. “That is indeed the question. The Skrol secret is always the goal for him… that is certain. The Silent War is a battle for those rings. Yes, but the Imperions themselves being involved? Strange. I would expect Faction Forces, elite ones to be hunting Seren discreetly. The risk of an Imperion being involved
directly is great. Unnecessary. Unless…”
“Unless it’s personal,” Vasa finished for him. “Eres, I’m buying more into the fact that you uncovered an octor recording of one of her descendants.”
“Why would I lie?”
“It’s not that. It’s the significance of the recording. A connection.”
“Maybe,” Eres squared his shoulders, “but in my travels, in every instance, more breadcrumbs led only to more questions. This war is just as the name states: silent. And the Skrols were as unequipped to fight it as any one of us. We are just a disjointed group of one-person armies, or were anyway.”
“Eres…” Ren said solemnly.
“No. No! I’m not melancholy. My point is excess strategizing will just send us in circles, as the procurers of this war meant for us to go. As Seren meant for us to go.”
Vasa looked like she wanted to interject, but clenched her jaw.
“Let me finish. Listen, Ren, you said you have one future location for Spera, right? Well, my vote is that we stop guessing and drawing lines on maps. Accompany me there. Let’s get some real information.”
“You just arrived here. We have much to still plan out,” Ren protested.
“But I’ve been planning forever, proctor. I’ve been mostly alone for years, thinking about this, about why my fata would end his own life to give me his esper,” he sighed loudly, the memory alone manifesting a physical weight over his shoulders. “At first, I thought he wanted me to run, like him. Then over time I figured he was the best runner… he could manipulate storms at will for Mustae’s sake, so that couldn’t be it. Perhaps he wanted me to do something else that he couldn’t. Hide maybe, to be unknown, to preserve this ancient secret because the spheres were not ready for what it entails.
“Now, however, all of this time later, I realize that the question of what he wanted isn’t so simple as a task, but rather a state of mind.” He thought back to Ramillion mocking him as a faulty philosopher but now realized he was reasoning correctly… trusting himself, his instincts. “I think my fata was too deep into the war. His regret was too heavy. He couldn’t change his ways even if he wanted to, because if he did, then his wife, my mother, Miyannas, would have died in vain. He would’ve been absent for no reason for all that time. So instead, he passed this burden to me.
“Me,” he repeated. “A fresh mind with a fresh path. He wanted me to find my own way in this war.”
Vindom looked solemn. “But you were just a child.”
“I was just a Dawn, keeper. My fata gave me purpose.”
“I suppose it’s good that you don’t see him as a coward, as I do.” Vasa clenched her jaw harder.
“Hey!”
“He left you alone in this world!”
“He knew I could make it!”
“Please… please.” Proctor Ren lowered his voice and his hands, asking for the same from the others. “There is little point to argue over the intentions of the dead. I’m sure Eres has discovered much in Gushda that we could never comprehend. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
“As I said,” Eres jumped in, “I’ve been planning, mulling this over for years, all while learning everything I could about the Skrols, Sindah, Gushda, the Five Hearts… Sorcery and Reach. History. My mind is made up. It has been ever since I returned from death.”
“Returned from what?” Vasa smashed the table with her fist.
“What do you think the final Skrol test is? That’s right - to die!” Eres shouted at them.
Ren shook his head. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“Oh, want to go down another rabbit hole? I’ve got plenty that’s definitely not right about this Skrol path. No more! Listen. Proctors, keeper, it warms every part of me that you’ve sacrificed so much in my name, to keep me safe. But no more hiding. I would never be able to forgive myself.
“My best times are here, with all of you, however brief a stint it is. That’s how I know hiding in solidarity is not the way. It can’t be.”
“Eres…” Ren said again.
“No. I’m going to end this war one way or the other so people don’t have to live in fear any longer. Terrorist attacks on Kors? A mass murderer running rampant? For what?”
“Eres!” Ren finally took over. “The Skrols have persisted for thousands of years. They are good. All of my experience has told me so. Righteous, dedicated, heart-felt soldiers of their own device. They help keep the Factions – civil society – running just as much as the Imperions do. If you rush head on into Seren’s hands, you might as well just throw all of that away.”
“There it is again,” Eres let his arm fall in frustration to slap his leg, “those fears of grandeur, always promoting inaction. You know what that does, proctor? Do you, really? I can tell you because it’s all I’ve lived. It keeps us here, in a room, speculating, not knowing… it keeps us as puppets on strings while the gears of war churn.”
Vindom continued staring out into the sunsets, his sole golden braid shimmering in the light. “Perhaps there is a middle ground… to get us out of this circular spiral that Eres has been stuck in, that we will also be doomed to. Maybe we can accomplish this without throwing ourselves headfirst into the Surs. Yes, I think we can muster this.” He spun away to face the group and reengage. “Eres, if we pledge to swift action, to track Spera’s future mark, would you be open to our guidance as to how?”
“Of course,” he nearly yelled. “I’m not mad.”
“Good. It’s settled then,” he paced over to the map, “but we must not trek aimlessly, for the sake of just spying, no. That would be a fool’s errand. So what is our goal then?” He clasped his hands behind his back, inquisitively challenging himself as much as the rest of the group. “Well, let’s start with what we know. It is the Imperions who chase the murderer, not the other way around. So it is likely we will not encounter Seren at Spera’s future location since he is generally steps ahead. So what then? See if Spera does in fact possess an esper? What do you hope to achieve?”
“I… uh-” Eres was too eager to think this through clearly.
“You are headstrong. Angry. Motivated. You are all of these things. And that is good, but you must also gather your wits so as not to end up making a grave misstep.”
Eres took a long breath to reorient himself. Emotions were still high since Herim insulted his father. “Yes, keeper, you’re right. Seren is the one I want… not Spera.”
“But you do want to know her connection to all of this, do you not?” Ren postulated. “Perhaps she could be an ally?”
Eres grimaced. “I don’t know. Her ancestor Ressa Noe Donnus, whoever she was, was kind and helpful. Goofy, even. I can’t imagine a lineage like that being an enemy, but Mustae knows I’ve been wrong before.”
Herim exchanged a look with the others and stepped forward, swords jangling at her sides. “We leave the next move to you.”
Eres’ brow was furrowed, eyes to the floor, mind lost in thought. “It would be a mistake to throw myself out there and have Seren come to me. I’m at a disadvantage as it is.” He reminisced about the murderer’s strength – his strangely graceful movements, that speed. “Meeting Spera discretely to gain a clue would be the next logical step.”
The others looked relieved.
“But what about striking a blow to Seren’s forces, showing him that the Alliance isn’t a joke? What if we targeted a cell of KQ?”
Vindom paced around them. “There are no leads that I know of.”
“We can track them from the Colliding Spheres, like was done to us,” Eres suggested.
“They are not novices, Eres,” Vasa said. “I’ve been tending to that arena for most of my life, and I know it’s standard practice to have shiders equipped with misdirection tactics: scanner disrupters, mirages, the like. If we could lose Seren, then rest assured, Kovella’s Quittance could lose us.”
“But an entire fleet?” Eres protested.
Vasa backhanded the air. “They would depart at scattered ti
mes in all directions.”
“Hmm. Fine. If there are no other suggestions, then we take the slow road of intercepting Spera.”
“Slow.” Ren laughed loudly. “Bodyguards, anti-Reachers, bringing a Dawn into open air. This sounds like a fast track back to prison.”
“You’ve already done too much, proctor; I’m not suggesting anyone else go but me.”
“Oh I wasn’t protesting, just stating the obvious. Eres… listen…
“That day I saw you singled out by Hundul, taken away by the hands of the Factions, it did something to me. Changed me. I always thought that sharing my experiences with future generations by teaching here was the way to betterment. But defying injustice in your name, well… I’ve never felt more purposeful in my life. I’m with you.”
Eres nodded in thanks. “Well, any ideas in getting close enough with her to have a conversation? The only highborn I can think of is Ohndee, but…”
“She made it very clear that she wants no part of us,” Vasa stated bluntly.
“I understand,” Eres replied.
“Perhaps a keeper of Kor could request audience,” Vindom suggested.
“And say what?”
“Speak of espers. Of Ressa.”
Ren tapped a ring against the table. “She could very well clam up and dismiss you. Remember, having a concealed possession or even having someone suggest it is touching upon treason to the Factions and civil society.”
“We would need to make her trust us. A sign of faith,” Vasa pondered aloud.
“Me. I’m that sign,” Eres said. “I will flash my esper to prove it. We need to take this leap if we’re to get anywhere. It’s mutual trust: you have something illegal – me – and she may too, her esper. She could expose me, sure-”
“Try to capture you,” Ren added.
“She won’t.” Eres felt a sudden surge of confidence, thinking back to marking an Aegod, destroying a lightning spirit, surviving all on his own, dying. “Imperions jump through endless mental hoops to become who they are, I’m sure. But Skrols endure something else. She won’t be able to capture me.”
Vasa beamed with pride, feeling very much a part of this child’s transition into an adult. “I assume the risk of harboring a Dawn. If you, my peers, would rather spare yourselves, I could use my clout on the Colliding Spheres to request audience.”
