by C S Vass
“The door is there, my friend.”
“We’re friends now, are we?”
“No.”
Torin laughed and ordered two more drinks. “My apologies for being overly familiar. I have an interest in our Godwin because he and I are so much alike. But you wouldn’t know much about that either, I suppose?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reinko observed Torin silently for a time. “I see. You are Star-cursed I take it. Forsaken.”
“I am. But do not grieve for me, Master Assini. I am simply a monstrous Shigata, after all.”
“You speak more truth than you realize. Still, the luck of that is horrendous. You know, I spoke to a guardian once who calculated the actual chances of becoming Forsaken. The man was compulsive. Completely obsessed with data and numbers. When he told me a statistic, I believed him.”
“I admit you’ve peaked my interest,” Torin said. “What are the chances?”
“Close to one in two million.”
“One in two million,” Torin mused. “Astounding. That means there can only be but a handful in the world.”
“Really speaks to your shit-hole organization that they’ve wound up with two of you.”
Torin smirked. He could tell Assini was unsettled by him, and it made him oddly proud. “You know, I once met a man who believed that there was no such thing as Star-cursed or Star-blessed. He thought anyone capable of learning the magic of the stars and that a popular myth had made it so only the ones with silver eyes ever tried.”
Reinko laughed. “What did you have to say to that?”
“Something that would no doubt leave you very uncomfortable if I repeated it here. No need to go down the dark road of a provoked Forsaken. But it is worth pointing out the obvious blunder the man was making in failing to realize the symbolic importance of the silver eyes.”
“Oh? What’s so important about that?” Reinko asked.
“Why, it’s our origin story,” Torin replied. “Our common, uniting factor. The mark of destiny. Say he’s right and anyone could learn the magic of the stars. It’s a fascinating thought experiment right up until one realizes there has never been an instance of a single person anywhere without silver eyes who has mastered this magic.”
“I fail to see your point,” Reinko said.
“My point,” Torin continued, “is that this man might be right. But it doesn’t matter because he’s still wrong in the larger sense. Even if it’s not the constellations blessing or cursing people, it doesn’t change the fact that the silver eyes are the physical mark that gives one the confidence to try.”
Reinko snorted. “You dwell too much on physical detail, Torin. It’s a mistake that someone else I knew made, to his great suffering. But you’ll understand that in your own time, if you’re supposed to.”
“If I’m supposed to,” Torin nodded. “Destiny truly is a strange god.”
* * *
When their conversation wound down Torin was disappointed. It was clear to him that he was not going to get the information he sought out of Reinko. Then the old master surprised him.
“Meet me here again, tomorrow night,” Reinko said. “We’re not done.”
Pushing back his smile, Torin nodded. “Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Master Assini.”
True to his word Reinko Assini appeared again the next evening. He had the same hardened look, and didn’t hesitate to place a large order of lobster in a bed of greens with a side of potatoes, clam soup, and chopped okra. Juice ran down his thick wrists as he cracked open the lobsters claws.
When he was finished eating he ordered them two large tankards of ale and gulped half of his down without a word. Torin waited patiently, knowing that he would be better off if he held his silence until Reinko was ready to speak.
“I have considered your request,” Reinko said. “I’m curious as to why you have made it. Tell me, Torin of the Shigata. Why do you want to know how Godwin broke his Seal of Love? And don’t go giving me a crock of shit about how you and he are so similar. I know a lie when I smell one.”
Torin raised an eyebrow. That surprised him. The master was more astute than he had realized.
“Very well,” Torin said. “I wish to know because information is valuable. The Shigata know me as The Voice of the Sages, but I am also their ears. The more I know about our members the more I can utilize their skill in the ways that are necessary to carry out our mission. Does that answer satisfy you, Master Assini?”
“No. But don’t feel bad. Nothing you say could do that. Now drink some of your beer. You paid for it and it’s bad luck to let it go sour at the table.”
Torin obliged. He had never dealt with a man quite like Reinko. It was one of those rare times when he didn’t know what to expect. He considered using his ability, but then dismissed the thought.
“Now you know I don’t care a whit about that empty-headed pupil of mine,” Reinko continued. “So how about this, Torin? I’ll tell you the story of how Godwin broke his Seal of Love if you tell me how you broke yours.”
Torin grimaced. Of course he had thought the topic might come up when he approached Reinko, but all the same he had wished that it hadn’t. Telling him was out of the question. He would have to sell the lie well.
“You put me in a difficult position, Master Assini,” Torin said. “Are you sure there is nothing else I can do? I could give you gold. Pay your lodging in the finest inns in Gaellos for a year. It would be much easier that way.”
“I have no interest in your gold, Shigata,” Reinko spat. “My price never changes once it’s been set. I don’t haggle.”
“Very well,” Torin said. He sighed, and took a large swig from the tankard before him. “I will have to request, of course, that the conversation stays between us. On pain of your death.”
Reinko smiled. It was a brief, fleeting smile. It vanished from his lips as quickly as it appeared. But it was horrendous. Torin had only seen a smile like that on one other face.
“As much as it would amuse me to see you try, you have my word. I will tell no one of whatever hidden shame you have.”
“Then I’ll tell you straight away. I murdered my brother.”
“Your brother? Why?”
“It was a matter of patriotism. Of honor. During Bloodwater while you were hiding up in your mountains urging Godwin not to join, my brother Trello thought the end of the West was upon us. We were poor. He knew he had no hope other than the life of a farmer under Mexdon Boldfrost’s rule. But he thought that if he defected early the Empire would reward him for it. He joined the sun warriors. I killed him for it.”
Reinko stared unblinkingly at Torin with his watchful, emerald eyes. Torin made a point to stare past Reinko’s gaze, off into the distance. He could not tell what the old master was thinking.
“Tell me, Torin,” Reinko said after a moment. “Do you understand the Seal of Love? Do you truly know what it is?”
Another question that took Torin by surprise. “I am Shigata, Master Assini. Do you think I could not?”
“You don’t have to understand something to destroy it,” Reinko said. “There are many who have studied the Seal of Love. The guardians have tried to quantify the exact proportion of chemicals that constitute it. The Cult of Jericho has sought to extract magical properties from it. The Shigata benefit from its absence by creating a brotherhood out of the dregs of society. But does anyone really know what it is?”
“It is the very portal to the human soul,” Torin said, surprised to hear himself speak. “The Seal of Love. Whether placed inside us by gods or somehow formed from the human mind on its own. It is the barrier between our humanity and the actualization of our deepest evil.”
“Ah, yes,” Reinko said. “Very good. You’re not far off. But you’re missing an important piece. You see, this is where the misconception comes in from the common folk. The Seal of Love is actually different for everyone. It is fine-tuned, pitched to the exact frequency like the string of a lute. It
breaks when one does something not that is evil or repugnant, but only when it is something evil or repugnant to the individual.”
Torin’s hands stopped moving underneath the table. He was hardly breathing.
“You see, Torin, there are certain common thresholds that bind us as humanity. Most people would break their Seal of Love if they murdered a parent or spouse. For most, any murder would do. But another man with an unusually high sense of moral responsibility could shatter his through a lesser act like stealing. Some men break theirs during war, but others do not. It’s different for everyone.
“But everyone fails to see what I find one of the most fascinating things about this swirling little portal of magic in our bodies. What I see is the last shred of hope for the damned. The final grain of dignity of the Shigata. I see that those who are truly evil, the real monsters of this world, they can never break their Seal of Love. They can’t break it because they cannot be repulsed by themselves. They cannot harm their own souls or consciences. Tell me Torin. Does your organization differentiate between those who break their Seals and those who don’t have them at all?”
The lights in the Hummingbird seemed to go very dim. Everything around Reinko’s face blurred as the master captured Torin with his horrific green eyes.
Reinko rose.
“We may meet again one day, Torin. I advise you not to lie to me when that day arrives. I hope I’ve shown you that it won’t end well for you. After all, I have more weapons than my tongue.”
Chapter Fifteen
They travelled as three.
Godwin, Yaura, and Robert had each departed the Kirishelliwan with something they had not arrived with. Robert took two new traveling companions. Yaura had obtained a beautiful amethyst medallion that was gifted to her by a new friend that she made. Godwin took a pounding headache that beat at his temples like war drums for a day and a night.
He was surprised when Robert was ready to leave with them the following morning. He had completely forgotten agreeing to travel with him. Yaura didn’t seem to mind, and he could think of no good reason why he should go back on his word so after saying good-bye to the happy nomads, they resumed their journey towards the island of Black Wolf.
Robert, as it turned out, was an excellent companion for the road. He had picked up some tricks from the Kirishelliwan and every time he disappeared into the thick of the woods he returned with some small game, snowberries, or other foraged food. They enjoyed many a rabbit and squirrel stew.
They were also graced by good weather, and apart from the cold their natural impediments were practically none. The ground was flat, the snow was hard and compact so walking was no challenge, and dry wood could be found fairly easily.
“So you’re an alchemist?” Robert asked one night around the campfire as he bite into the leg of a squirrel. Hot grease ran over his fingers while he licked his lips.
“No,” Godwin said. “Though no matter how many times I say it Yaura can never seem to remember.”
Yaura rolled her eyes. “You make magic potions. Is the difference so profound?”
“Yes,” he insisted.
“But don’t you ever accidentally ingest something you shouldn’t?” Robert asked. “I mean, all the tinkering around you do. Not everything is meant to be consumed.”
Godwin smiled. “I learned a few lessons the hard way. But I also have some additional protection.”
“Oh? A magic trinket? Perhaps an amulet to ward off poison?”
“No, just a healthy immune system. In my early days as a Shigata the Sages saw my interest in ingestible chemicals and thought it would be a good idea to give me some…therapeutic exposure. They also thought I might object so they decided to do so without mentioning their plans to me.”
“They poisoned you, the fucks!”
Godwin grinned. “They did. Quite a few times. But other than some rather unpleasant memories it seems to have worked out in my favor. The art of potion-making requires a certain willingness to experiment that many find they don’t have.”
Yaura snorted. “That’s a polite way of saying you’re a self-hating psychopath who isn’t deterred by the prospect of accidentally setting your insides on fire.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining when I was able to brew you a cure for those mysterious little blisters that appeared on your—ow!”
The journey continued to be a smooth one. Yaura had been content to forget about their awkward interaction on that final night with the Kirishelliwan, and Godwin was determined to believe that she wouldn’t bring up the matter again.
Before long they were close to the Southlands in that special part of the Chillway where both the Jagjaw Mountains loomed to the south and Ice Bay came into view from the east.
“It seems we have a decision to make,” Godwin said as they awoke one morning.
Robert looked nervous. “What decision might that be, friend?”
Yaura laughed. “By the way you keep glancing at the Jagjaw Mountains like you’re about to piss yourself, I’d say I know what your vote is.”
“You can’t really be thinking of going south?” Robert shouted. “We should go right up the coast. There’ll be a ferry sooner or later to get us over to Frost. From there we sail to Meno, and from there we part ways. What else could we possible do?”
“This is winter,” Godwin said. “The ferries are unreliable at best this time of year. Not a lot of trade. Not a lot of money for boats to make shuffling people around. What’s more, we’re close enough to Jagjaw by now that going to Frost would take us out of the way, losing all of us time. And finally, there’s no guarantee Ice Bay is the safest route. Rusalka love those icy waters, not to mention all other terrible demons that lie waiting for isolated travelers in winter.”
Robert was near speechless. “Oh, yes. Those are some very compelling reasons not to cross the little stretch of water barely a few miles wide. On the other hand, we could just move through Jagjaw, which is certain death! And on the off chance we defy those improbable odds, we find ourselves in Killer’s Rest. Which is certain death!”
He stared at the open-mouthed, waiting for someone to say something.
“Those might have been the odds for you traveling on your own,” Yaura said. “But you forget you’re with two Shigata. Everything will be fine.”
“Besides,” Godwin added. “We don’t need to go through the Jagjaw Mountains. They dissipate towards the sea. If we follow the coast, we’ll be near them but not in them. As for Killer’s Rest, we’ll only pass by the mouth of it. After that we’re going to go straight north to Meno. We won’t need to rely on a ferry. There’s a strait where the water is less than a mile from the coast of Killer’s Rest to the coast of Black Wolf, and in winter it’s frozen solid.”
“Madness,” Robert said. “This is utter madness. You’ve surely heard the rumors about the upset in the Southlands. The Blood Wood is supposed to be positively crawling with demons.” The panic in Robert’s voice was turning more shrill by the moment.
“We’re hundreds of miles from the Blood Wood,” Yaura said. “Besides, any demons from there will be feasting on the flesh of the good people of Valencia. Which by the way, I’m still thinking about going towards after we visit Unduyo to make some of that easy gold.”
“You appear to be out-voted, friend,” Godwin said to Robert.
“This isn’t a voting system!” Robert said desperately. “What if I refuse? I’m not going near those damned mountains. How about that?”
“I’d recommend you look up some basic wards to keep your campfires safe at night,” Godwin said seriously. “I can give you some of the cougar urine I’ve been using, but if you want an actual magical barrier between yourself and the scores of hungry wolves, then you’ll have to find some fresh cherry plums. Be sure to mix in the necessary goat blood in just the right proportion, otherwise you’ll just bring out their aggressive instincts.”
He turned and walked away.
“Come on, Yaura. Castle Unduyo a
waits!”
It wasn’t long before they heard Robert huffing and puffing behind them.
Their journey grew more tense after that. Despite Godwin and Yaura making light of it, they were traveling to a highly dangerous part of the world. Godwin was taking extra care with his protective wards, and Yaura made a point to sharpen her blade every night. Robert of course was quick to notice all of this and grew more wide-eyed every single night.
One evening a grim silence fell among them when the Serpent appeared in the sky. Its signature bright blue star at the eye always unsettled Godwin, making him feel as if it could penetrate his mind from the heavens above. He sat propped against a black pine tree while Yaura and Robert slept. Soon they would be at the foot of Jagjaw and in the mouth of Killer’s Rest. It would be the most dangerous part of the journey, but also the shortest. They would just have to move quickly and trust everything would be fine.
His dreams were restless that night. As he drifted off into an uneasy sleep he saw an explosion. Chaos in Saebyl. There were sun warriors flooding the city, killing everything that moved. The resistance was minimal. Lord Wenjen’s troops had not entered the city for some reason, and the Tarsurians were so unhindered that they actually began constructing scaffolds. Bodies hung on every major street in Saebyl that night.
Godwin was unbothered. Men fled when they saw his legendary obsidian blade, its magic runes glowing like the eyes of a demon. But he wasn’t Godwin of Brentos. He was something more. Odruri. The Darksword. Enemies fell at his feet everywhere he went. He moved freely, unworried by the number of opponents he might have to face.
Blood flooded the streets of Saebyl. In his dream the Odruri killed man after man.
A crash of lightning sent Godwin bolting upright, his sword halfway out of its sheath. Half-asleep he had almost expected the blade to glow with red runes. He was relieved to see it was just ordinary steel. Robert had slept through the noise, but on the other side of the campfire Yaura stared at him with wide hazel eyes.
