by Clayton Wood
As the city passed below them, the ocean grew bigger, until he couldn't tell where the ocean ended and the sky began. Kyle stared at that void, wondering what awaited them beyond that vast unknown. The infinite possibilities of his future stared back at him, terrifying and wondrous at the same time. For the first time in his life, he was choosing his path. For better or for worse.
He grabbed Ariana's hand with his own, aiming for that blackness where the ocean met the sky. Wherever it took them, and whatever his fate, he had Ariana with him. And no matter what happened, they would meet their fates together.
Chapter 12
Sabin pulled away from the memory he'd stored within his Chosen, returning that portion of his mind to his own brain. The eternal, bitter cold of the translucent crystal that surrounded his withered body was barely noticeable against the constant waves of fiery pain that rippled across his flesh. It was a reminder, that pain, of the tremendous sacrifice he'd made so that he would endure. The agony reminded him of the day he had been encased in this eternal prison, when his deteriorating body had failed him at last. When he'd finally succumbed to the pain, and wished only for death.
No more regrets.
That, he mused bitterly, had been a noble goal, one his younger self had striven to achieve after losing Vera. Such a noble sentiment, and one he'd utterly failed at. Only the dead were free from regrets.
He paused, then reached out for the Chosen that had watched as Ampir had spoken with Kyle on the lawn of the Secula Magna, seeing through the Chosen’s eyes. Kyle was returning to the Tower after speaking with Ampir. Seconds had passed since Ampir had vanished...and it would likely be a long time still before Ampir arrived to meet him.
Sabin sighed inwardly, searching for another memory. Within seconds, he found the memory he was looking for, throwing a small portion of his consciousness into it, even as the rest of his enormous will prepared for Ampir's arrival.
* * *
The Council Chamber is filled with the hushed murmurs of the twelve Councilman seated around the massive, circular table, the sweet aroma of burning candles in the air. Sabin yawns, clasping his hands in front of him on the warm surface of the table, his crisp white robes contrasting starkly with the dark red wood.
He glances up at the men around him, all of them his age or older. The very eldest, the Elder Runic Samel, a man who had served on the Council for longer than Sabin had been alive, had decided to retire. Sabin leans back in his chair, rubbing his eyes tiredly and trying not to yawn again. The Council had called a late-night meeting to discuss Samel's retirement...and to vote for his replacement.
One of the Councilmen raises his hand, indicating that he has decided his vote. He pushes a folded piece of paper at the Councilman to his left, and the paper is passed along to the Elder Runic, who reads it silently, then folds it again and puts it down.
Sabin smiles, thinking of how far he's come in the last five years. Since he'd met Vera and Ampir in that park on Renval's floating island in the sky. From that day onward, he'd worked furiously, forging his future with a singularity of purpose that had surprised even him. He'd used his reputation to campaign successfully for mayor of Stridon, using his considerable resources and connections – and his willingness to devote the entirety of his being to his job – to usher in a golden era for the city. He'd become enormously popular, which had clinched him a nomination for a coveted spot on the Council.
And to his surprise, he'd won.
Sabin watches as the next Councilman raises his hand, folding his piece of paper and passing it along as before. Being the most junior of Councilmen, Sabin knows he will be the last to vote. He glances down at the blank sheet of paper before him, considering his options. He needs to write two names down, one for who will replace Samel as the Elder Councilman, and another for who will be chosen as the next Runic to be voted into the Council. For the first, Sabin knows he cannot put his own name; though it is his goal – his dream – to become Elder Runic, he has little chance to win the position now. He is the most junior member of the Council, regardless of his reputation. To write his own name down would be considered the ultimate in conceit.
He pauses, then scrawls down a name on the paper, folding the top of the sheet over it to hide it.
He sighs, stifling another yawn and leaning back in his chair. He has one more name to write, and in theory what he writes will be known only to the Elder Runic. But he has been in politics long enough to know that confidentiality is a lie, that men can never truly be entrusted with a secret. He must assume that everyone on the Council will discover his choice for the next Runic. The name he writes will have serious repercussions for the future.
Still, his pen hovers over the page, and he chews his lip, glancing up as the next Councilman raises his hand, folding his paper and sending it along. Sabin sighs, tapping his pen on the page, feeling an old bitterness – one he thought he'd long left behind – rise to the surface.
There is only one name he can write.
Still, he finds himself hesitating, unable to will his hand to write it. Another Councilman – three seats to his right – raises his hand. Sabin clenches his left hand under the table, his fingernails biting into his palm. He notices a sudden, prickly numbness in his left foot, a sensation he hasn't experienced in nearly five years.
The Councilman two seats away raises his hand.
Sabin glances down at his page, putting the tip of his pen to the stark white paper. A black dot appears, spreading outward slowly. He lifts the tip, staring at that inky spot, seeing the Councilman to his right shift his weight, then raise his hand.
He places the pen on the paper, gliding it across the surface with quick, clean strokes, then putting his pen down on the table. He raises his hand in the air, then stares at the paper for a split second longer, at the name he scrawled there, before folding it and passing it along.
He leans back in his chair, folding his hands on his lap and watching as his paper is passed along to the Elder Runic, seated opposite him across the large circular table. The Elder unfolds his paper, then nods once, refolding it and placing it on top of the pile before him. Samel clears his throat, then stands, his eyes sweeping across the eleven seated Councilmen.
“We have a consensus,” he declares, taking the stack of papers and shuffling them as he speaks. The Councilmen all breathe a sigh of relief, as does Sabin. If they hadn't reached a majority vote for each of the positions to fill, they would've had to start the process over again until they did. It is already after midnight, and everyone – Sabin included, is exhausted.
“For the position of Elder Runic,” Samel declares, his voice still powerful and commanding despite his frail, elderly form, “...we have elected...”
A hush goes over the room, and Sabin knows all too well why. The choice of Elder Runic will greatly affect the balance of power in the Council, and by extension the entirety of the Empire.
“...Sabin.”
Sabin stares at the Elder Runic in shock, his mouth falling open. He feels a strange numbness come over him, gooseflesh rising on his arms. His fellow Councilmen turn to look at him, and he closes his mouth abruptly, trying desperately to keep his expression calmly neutral.
They chose me?
He hardly believes his ears, staring in silence as the convened Councilmen start applauding, rising from their seats to give him their ovation. He stares down at the polished surface of the table, feeling a wave of giddiness wash over him, a pleasure he has not allowed himself for a very long time.
They chose me!
He stands then, barely noticing the numbness in his leg as he does so. He bows before his peers, placing his right hand on his chest in the gesture of acceptance, then sits back down. He suddenly feels like weeping, such is his amazement and joy. For this is his reward for his years of single-minded focus and dedication, the seemingly impossible goal he’d set for himself five years ago, as he limped down that cobblestone path away from Vera, away from the man who had taken her f
rom him.
“Elder Runic Sabin,” Samel states, nodding deferentially at Sabin, “...would you kindly declare the winner of the next seat on the Council?”
Sabin nods silently, watching as the former Elder Runic removes a folded piece of paper from the pile before him, unfolding it and staring at it before refolding it and passing it along. Sabin watches as it passes from hand to hand, until it is placed in his hands. He holds the folded paper for a moment, staring down at its stark surface.
Five years, he muses. That's how long it had taken him to create a new life for himself. A new fate. One where he was the architect of his future, instead of being a victim of the forces around him. It had taken the cruel words of a man whose name he still loathed to hear to realize who he was, and what he needed to become. The words of a man who had never allowed himself to be a victim of anyone.
“The newest member of the Council is...” he declares, his voice booming across the table. Sabin unfolds the paper slowly, seeing the familiar, precise strokes of his own writing there on the page. He doesn't even read the second name on the page, looking up at his fellow Councilman instead.
“Ampir.”
* * *
The magic lanterns lining the docks of the Stridon marina cast a pale yellow glow on the churning seawater below, rippling waves crashing onto the shore with a spray of white foam. Far above, Kyle shivered in the cold night air, staring down at the shoreline as they passed by. He glanced at the huge shipping boat moored to the docks, then at the dozens of smaller vessels swaying gently in the water.
“That's the boat that's leaving tomorrow,” Ariana shouted, pointing to the larger ship. Her voice was barely audible against the shrieking wind. “The one we're looking for looks just like it.”
“Got it,” Kyle shouted back. He shivered again, his teeth starting to chatter. He'd assumed that the Aegis he wore would have protected his entire body from the cold, but he'd apparently been wrong; he felt warm only where it covered him.
“You're shaking,” Ariana observed. Kyle nodded, realizing that she probably didn't even realize how cold it was.
“I'm freezing,” he shouted back. He wove magic, creating a gravity shield around them. The wind vanished; he wove again, creating a small flame in front of himself, feeling the welcome warmth it gave. He felt Ariana shift her weight on his back.
“Look,” she stated, tapping on his shoulder. He glanced back, seeing the docks far away now. Hundreds of tiny lights shone like stars from the streets and buildings of Stridon, and the sight nearly took Kyle's breath away. He'd never realized just how big the city was. It stretched for miles along the shore, almost as far as the eye could see. Far in the distance, he could still make out the glittering pyramid atop the Great Tower.
“It's beautiful,” Kyle murmured. He gazed at the city for a moment longer, then turned forward. “Where is the boat we're looking for?”
“Straight ahead,” Ariana answered.
“Are you sure?” he asked skeptically. If the boat had been traveling since this morning, then it had certainly traveled a great distance out to sea. Searching for it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, unless they knew exactly where to look.
“I memorized the route on the shipping map,” Ariana explained. They both gazed down at the endless stretch of water before them for a long moment. “Maybe we should go higher,” Ariana reasoned. “It'll be easier to spot the boat that way.”
Kyle complied, willing his boots to ascend, his gut sinking as they accelerated upward. He felt pressure building in his ears, and he held his nose and blew through it to equalize the pressure. Without any buildings or trees below them, it was impossible to gauge how high up they were, or how fast they were moving. It was also difficult to tell if they were moving forward in a straight line; if it hadn't been for the guarantee of a straight shot when activating only one crystal on his gravity boots, he could have been traveling in circles and not even know it.
“Do you see it yet?” Kyle asked. Ariana shook her head.
“Can you take us higher?”
“We're still going up,” Kyle answered. He popped his ears again, then shivered. It was definitely getting colder, despite his fire and the insulating effect of the gravity shield. “I can't see anything,” he admitted. Without the city lights, it was almost pitch black.
“I see everything,” Ariana reassured. “Keep going.” Kyle did so; the air was frigid now, and he was feeling a bit lightheaded. With the gravity shield completely insulating them from the wind, he had no idea how fast he was going anymore, just if they were speeding up or slowing down. He glanced backward, at the city. Or rather, where the city had been; now there was only blackness behind them. Blackness all around them, save for the enormous tapestry of stars above. He felt suddenly disoriented, as if he were hurtling through space uncontrollably, with no idea where he was going.
“You okay?” Ariana asked. “Your heart’s beating faster.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. He glanced backward, hoping to see that beacon of light atop the Great Tower, but there was only darkness. “I can't see the Tower anymore.”
“It's there.”
“You can see it?” he asked. He felt Ariana shift on his back.
“I can see it,” she confirmed.
They flew forward and upward silently, the howling wind muted by the gravity shield around them. Kyle began shivering again, and he made the flame in front of him a little hotter.
“I think we're high enough now,” Ariana opined.
“Yeah,” Kyle agreed. He swept his gaze across the darkness below, hoping against hope to spot the shadowy form of a boat in the distance. But he saw nothing. “Do you see anything yet?” he asked.
“No.”
“How far out do you think it is?”
“It's been sailing for a whole day,” she reasoned. “It might take a while to catch up with it.” Then he felt her body tense up against his back. “Wait,” she exclaimed.
“What?”
“Slow down,” she urged, patting his arm. He complied, decreasing his magic stream. “Can you drop us down?” she asked.
“Do you see it?” he asked, feeling his guts rise up as they started to descend.
“I see a line of waves,” she replied, her eyes on the darkness below. She paused for a long moment, then squeezed his arm tightly. “I think they're from the boat!” She squeezed him again. “There it is! Bring us lower,” she urged. Kyle complied, lowering them through the darkness. He still could only see black haziness below, despite the brilliance of the star-lit sky.
“Where is it?” Kyle asked.
“Maybe a mile away,” she answered. “Can you see it?”
“No,” Kyle admitted. “I can't see anything.” He peered through the darkness, resisting the urge to create a light above their heads. He wasn't sure if the invisibility field would be able to nullify a powerful light source...and they'd be easily spotted from the boat if it couldn't. He noticed a subtle rippling as they continued to descend, and he blinked, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. But the rippling was definitely there...and it was growing ever more distinct. He spotted a gray-blue line below, a path of churning water in the endless ocean. He followed this outward, and saw the faintest of shadows in the distance.
“I see it!” Kyle exclaimed, squeezing Ariana's arm and pointing to the shadow.
“That's it,” Ariana agreed. “We need to find a way onto it without getting caught.”
“I'll get us lower,” Kyle stated. “Maybe I can circle around it, to find a place to land.” He paused then, glancing at the dancing flame in front of him. He cut the magic stream to it, and it abruptly vanished.
“We should hide out below-deck,” Ariana reasoned. “There might be an empty room we can use.”
“Maybe,” Kyle replied, suddenly apprehensive. What if there weren't any rooms available...or any place for them to hide or sleep? He couldn't just fly above the ship forever, after all. It was freezing out
side, and he would need to eat and sleep eventually. “Isn’t this a trading ship?” he asked.
“It is,” Ariana confirmed.
“There should be a cargo hold then,” he stated. “We could hide there.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t think it’ll be checked too often,” he reasoned. “And it should have wide spaces, so our invisibility field won’t hit any walls or floors and give us away.”
“Good point.”
They zoomed over the water, continuing to descend toward the water below. The shadowy form of the boat become more distinct as he flew them closer; it was similar to the boat they'd seen at the docks earlier, with a huge wooden deck and tall black sails jutting upward into the sky. A few tiny lights dotted its hull, leaving faint spotlights on the water below. Kyle was taken aback at just how far below them the boat was; despite having descended for minutes now, the boat was so far below them that it looked like a toy.
He cut back on his magic stream, slowing further while dropping sharply downward, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach at the sudden descent. They dropped through the air in an arc toward the rear of the boat, until they were only a hundred feet above and behind it. The massive deck of the ship extended outward before him, its tall black sails bowing outward with the wind. He scanned the deck, but there didn't appear to be any people on it. He adjusted his magic stream, leveling them out smoothly until they were a few dozen feet above the waves. The sharp tang of saltwater greeted his nostrils, and he took a deep breath in, instantly reminded of vacations at the beach back on Earth.
