A King's Caution

by Brennan C. Adams

  Even now, fitfully sleeping as he was, Raimie was the very picture of death. Kheled kept watch over him in the sparse room his friend had taken as his own, leaning against a wall with arms hugging his chest.

  “Can I please fix him?” he pleaded. “I could solely restore his leg. It wouldn’t cost Ele much.”

  “Feel free to do as you like,” Creation answered beside Raimie’s bed, “but don’t expect the whole to come to your rescue when you acquire his maladies. Can you afford to spend a month as weak as he? What happens if Arivor returns in that time?”

  Kheled couldn’t hold it in anymore. Self-pity and frustration had worn down his defenses over the years, and this inability to fix Raimie was the final shove to shatter them. The unfairness of it all! It must be given voice!

  “Why are you doing this to me?” he asked, keeping his voice down with difficulty. “I know, Ele’s retreat begins with me, but why? Aren’t there better ways to conserve power? Why not keep splinters from awakening more primeancers for one?”

  “The abandonment was the deal I and several sympathetic splinters made with those who had other, more malevolent designs for you,” Creation answered.

  “I don’t know where to start with that,” Kheled said, a rising tide of fury sweeping away caution. “First of all, malevolent designs? That, until the end of time, I’m banished from death and compelled to repeatedly murder my oldest friend isn’t tragic enough?

  “Second, sympathetic splinters? How do they know enough about me to be sympathetic? I know splinters report on their primeancers to the whole, but I wasn’t aware you did the same to me, Creation. I thought your only job was to keep me on the straight and narrow!

  “Lastly, a deal? Are the Ele splinters disagreeing? Is that even possible? And if a deal was to be made, why wasn’t I consulted?”

  Creation shrank, sinking to the floor. He tightly hugged his knees with shoulders hunched.

  “Report on you? Is that what you think happens when I return to the whole?” the splinter whispered. “No, when I leave the physical plane, I’m incorporated into aspect Creation, and the whole assimilates my experiences. I don’t get a choice in the matter, and as I’ve said before, the longer I’m there, the more oddities I’ve absorbed from you are scoured from me.

  “The scouring is why I’ve acted like a stuck-up, self-righteous ass in previous cycles. Back then, you only allowed me into the physical plane when you needed me, which, honestly, wasn’t much. You never gave me enough time to pick up your mannerisms. Stuck on the other side, I monitored you as best I could.”

  The room began to redden. A drowned out, rational piece of Kheled’s brain recognized the warning signs, knew he needed to quickly calm. The Champion of Ele losing his temper never ended well, both for him and for those who stoked his wrath. The wild loss of control hadn’t occurred in decades, a solitary close call at Da’kul the only near slip. Rational Kheled didn’t want to travel further down this path, but he’d already crossed a line. Anger had sunk its claws into him. The feebly small, clear-headed part of him struggled one final time to buck the approaching storm of rage, one which would end with him standing in the midst of a pile of groaning, broken bodies.

  “You decide to answer that question from everything I asked? The question of least importance, the safest? Just,” Kheled dismissively waved a hand, “go away, Creation. I can’t deal with you right now.”

  “…you want me to return to the whole after what I’ve told you?” the splinter asked in monotone.

  “I suppose that would be cruel, wouldn't it?”

  Kheled’s voice choked off, pity splashing into rage. It made an odd combination of sensations.

  “Yes, Erianger. Yes, it would,” Creation answered, “but don’t worry. I’ve learned a few tricks in my years with you, and I’m sure you won’t keep me there long.”

  He popped from existence, and despite the loosening of fury’s grip on him, Kheled’s hands balled into fists. What did the splinter expect? The game had changed, and he refused to explain the new rules or the reason for the alteration. Did he think his Eselan would be happy with the unexpected shift?

  For a short time, all Kheled did was breathe. In and out slowly, focus his thoughts. Red receded, and while anger continued to bubble under the surface, he’d regained mastery of himself.

  When he no longer teetered on the edge, he found he could think, could ponder what he’d asked of Creation and the splinter’s responses. Lingering questions nagged at him, and Kheled despaired of prying answers from Creation. Years since the splinter’s revelation and he'd learned nothing new about his loss of power. Since his attempts with his 'babysitter’ went nowhere, he’d try a different tactic while the splinter couldn’t interfere.

  “I’ll feel inordinately foolish when this doesn’t work,” he mumbled to himself. “Can we-?”

  “-talk?” Order interrupted. “What do you want, Erianger?”

  “Have I always been able to do that?” Kheled asked in wonder.

  “Summon others’ splinters? Yes. Maybe if you’d allowed your curiosity free reign since the first cycle, you’d have discovered the skill by now,” Order huffed. “What do you want?”

  “For one, I’d like it if you Ele splinters would treat me with any modicum of respect. The superiority gets tiresome,” Kheled said. “Would using your manners kill you, Order?”

  “My name is Bright, thank you,” the Ele splinter ground out.

  “I’ll call you Bright when you call me Kheled.”

  On the bed across from him, Raimie mumbled incoherently and rolled over. Both the Eselan and the splinter immediately quieted, sharply watching the human for further signs of waking, but Raimie took up a gentle snore once more.

  Kheled considered Order. He’d not had many exchanges with Raimie’s Ele splinter which was why he’d immediately gone on the defensive upon its first irritable question. Experience had taught him splinters of Ele bore an air of arrogance and disdain, both of which he poorly reacted to as a general rule. He couldn’t say whether Raimie’s splinter would follow suit, but at the very least, he and Order could claim a single point of common ground, a human they both strove to protect.

  “Perhaps we started off on the wrong foot,” Order said. “Forgive me for the less than congenial behavior. Raimie has spoiled me when it comes to taking orders I’m compelled to follow.”

  “I’m sorry I reacted with sarcasm,” Kheled replied. “I’m unused to splinters behaving in anything less than a holier than thou manner.”

  “We can be rather snobbish when we’ve been away from the physical plane for too long,” Order acknowledged. “I assume you had a reason for asking for me?”

  “Questions. I need answers to questions. I’d hoped an aspect other than Creation might be willing to share.”

  “We won’t know if that’s a realistic hope until you ask, will we?” Order’s bland features contorted into an approximation of a smile.

  “Fair enough.” Kheled shrugged. “Creation’s mentioned Ele’s general consensus is to use me for some purpose by which he seems repelled. He’s said he and several other splinters have dissented from this accord, which has led to a precarious compromise. My questions are as follows. How is Ele, the force which encapsulates order and harmony, in discord with itself? And what fate is so ghastly Creation would rather me suffer the slow leak of what sustains me rather than have me submit to it?”

  Order wordlessly stared at him, his smile dropping into a flat line. “Creation hasn’t told you?” it eventually asked.

  “He avoids the subject whenever I bring it up.”

  “That little-” Order growled with frustration. “Creation was supposed to tell you!”

  “He’s taking his sweet time,” Kheled said.

  “In that case, I suppose it’s become my job,” Order sighed. “In answer to your first question, yes, the whole can disagree with itself, by means of its splinters. The vast majority of us remain incorporated on a permanent basis, main
taining the whole’s purity, but those of us sent into the physical plane develop qualities we never would within it. It relies on our… unique perspectives to combat our enemy while both wholes exist on this plane, attached to you physical beings.”

  “Are you saying the existence of splinters and, therefore, primeancers is my fault?” Kheled asked. “Neither Ele nor Daevetch would have broken into the physical realm if my experiment hadn't caused a breach.”

  Order laughed. “Our existence here is hardly your fault. This isn’t the only iteration where we’ve embedded, and besides, Alouin split much larger breaches when he and his people fled their failing iteration.”

  Itera-? What? Kheled was at a loss. Why did Order mention Alouin? And what on earth was an… iteration?

  Splinters and their strange use of vocabulary. He couldn’t allow Order’s jargon to distract him.

  “So, Ele allows a part of itself to become impure in order to learn new and more efficient strategies against Daevetch?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around the idea.

  “An accurate, if crude, summary,” Order agreed. “Splinters sent to the physical plane are supposed to check for signs of excessive corruption, returning to the whole for correction when needed, but on occasion, some of us deliberately ignore that particular responsibility. Only when the situation warrants it, of course.”

  “You and Creation…” Kheled mused.

  “Among others, yes.”

  Millenia alive and he only now began to decipher how Ele worked. How short-sighted had he been in previous cycles not to delve into this?

  “Don’t go self-flagellating on me, Erianger!” Order exclaimed. “You’ve performed admirably for a flawed Eselan stuck in what must seem a curse. Blaming yourself for this mess hasn’t lent a hand toward encouraging your natural curiosity, and your millennia-long quest commencing with the deaths of Lirilith and your little girl scarred inquisitiveness from you, I know.”

  Kheled sucked in a sharp breath. Funny how that loss burned brighter than the others. So many mothers, fathers, and siblings lost to the eternal war, and those first two continued to jab a burning brand into the festering wound of his heart. One would think it would have healed after so many years. Maybe the lingering agony persisted because, at the time of its infliction, he hadn’t yet begun to master compartmentalization, or maybe it lashed against him even now because they’d been the family he’d chosen, not the one assigned him.

  “What about my other question?” Kheled asked, rejecting the swell of uncontrollable grief.

  “Do you know why the whole has been forced into retreat?” Order asked.

  “Because Daevetch is winning, no?”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that.” The splinter grimaced. “Beneath the physical plane’s skin, both wholes persist in eternal conflict, as you know. A single locus exists, however, endlessly spread along the front where the two wholes meet. This is the balance point.

  “During this cycle, you may have heard Creation make mention of a shift in the balance? That expression wasn’t merely a curious way to express a power shift between the wholes. The balance point which has, for eons, kept us in check is in the process of failing, and when it eventually ruptures,” Order shuddered, “an end to all things.”

  “That seems a bit dramatic,” Kheled ventured when the splinter unexpectedly cut off.

  “Tell me, Erianger, what happens when two opposites meet?” Order asked. “They repel one another, is that not correct? All of reality, your iteration and the others, exists with miniscule measures of both wholes within it. The balance point serves as a barrier, if you will. It allows the continuation of my whole and the enemy’s in identical spaces. What do you suppose happens when that barrier vanishes and the two opposites, ‘Ele’ and ‘Daevetch’ as you call them, truly meet for the first time?”

  For a single, brief flash, a thousand variants of Arivor’s corpse sprawled at Kheled’s feet, and the rusted red tinge of his oldest friend’s blood stained his hands. Even with his strong desire to break he and Arivor free from their curse, he couldn’t stop himself from slaying his friend, and all because of an all-encompassing enmity for the Daevetch Champion.

  “The end of all things,” he breathed.

  “When the balance first shifted,” Order continued despite Kheled’s alarm, “my whole, being what it is, began to search for a fix, and the enemy, being what it is, went on the offensive, intent on taking every advantage it could get. That is why my whole has retreated. From a desire to heal and not harm.”

  “Fascinating,” Kheled murmured through a dry throat, “what does that have to do with me?”

  “You were one of the proposed solutions. Some argued to send you into the balance point once this cycle completed, but you needn’t worry. Creation and I joined together to convince the whole such an attempt would be futile. You’d be torn apart on the instant of your entrance.”

  At least Kheled understood why Creation had avoided the subject now. The healer in him longed to fix the wound at the world’s core, and the scientist hungered to worry at the problem until it unraveled for him. In short, the splinter had known his Eselan would find the conundrum irresistible.

  “You said one of the proposed solutions?” he asked.

  For the first time that evening, Order seemed reluctant to answer. “In all honesty, only two were put forth,” it said. “The other is-”

  “-something he doesn’t need to know,” a third, strained voice entered the conversation.

  Order appeared intensely relieved by the interruption, but Kheled recoiled, his retreat solidly blocked by resin coated obsidian. In his haste to withdraw, resin ripped against his back, drawing blood, and sharp pain made his breath catch. Meanwhile, Order cringed before the fury of the splinter which had joined them.

  “Our agreement requires his ignorance!” Chaos snapped. “He’ll ruin the plan if he discovers it!”

  “I know! I’m sorry! He’s just-” Order tsked. “There’s something irresistible about him.”

  “I resist my whole every day I work with you. Not attempting your annihilation takes everything I have, but I resist the urge for the greater good, about which I honestly don’t give a shit, but also for the continuation of our eternal conflict!” Chaos snarled. “You can do the same for this poor reflection of your whole.”

  While Chaos battered Order with its indignation, Kheled tried not to gag from the unexpected influx of Daevetch, their words floating uncomprehended past him. His eyes flicked to Shadowsteal resting against the wall.

  Raimie had asked him to return the weapon to Eledis before falling asleep, but Kheled hadn’t yet fulfilled the request, too absorbed with ensuring an undisturbed rest for his friend. Thank the gods for his delay! With Shadowsteal in his possession, now might prove the perfect opportunity to free Raimie of Chaos’ influence. After hiding his palm within his cloak’s cuff, Kheled casually reached for the elegantly crafted blade, drawing it from its plain scabbard.

  All the while, Chaos reprimanded Order, unaware of the danger to it.

  “How could you come so close to endangering our plan?” he hissed. “I can’t believe your weakness! You displayed such strength by defying your whole’s consensus. Presenting an alternative to it goes against everything you are! I know! I did the same. So why abandon that strength now?”

  “I already apologized, cretin!” Order snapped back. “What more do you want?”

  “For you to help me carry this team!” Chaos yelled, hands flying skyward. “I realize it might take time to regain your former vigor after your destruction and reassembly, but Raimie’s automatic reliance on me whenever we're near a minor reality break begins to annoy me!”

  “I answered before you while he approached the Qena break!” Order protested.

  “But I’m the one who, in essence, saved his life once we stood beside it!” Chaos rebutted.

  “I’m doing the best I can!”

  As if prompted by the loud cry, Raimie abrup
tly shot upright like a puppet jerked into motion by its strings. His surprisingly focused gaze shot between the splinters and landed on Kheled’s lunging form.

  “Do not destroy my splinter!” he growled.

  Kheled stopped his swing short of Chaos, gritting his teeth to resist the compelling urge to complete his strike. Creation popped into existence beside him, unconsciously summoned by his Eselan’s dilemma.

  “Leave Chaos alone, Erianger,” he murmured. “The dimwit is a necessary evil.”

  The Ele splinter’s words granted Kheled the necessary tenacity to compel his muscles into sheathing Shadowsteal.

  “Thank you,” Raimie hissed, relaxing ever so slightly.

  “I’m sorry, Raimie. I didn’t mean to wake you,” Kheled murmured. “And I’m sorry about Chaos. You know how I am around anything Daevetch. The temptation was overwhelming, but I’ve a handle on it. You can go back to sleep.”

  “I am not Raimie,” Raimie replied.

  Confusion rankled Kheled’s forcibly apologetic demeanor. Had his friend taken a head injury today? Because he couldn’t produce another viable reason for Raimie’s absurd statement except, perhaps, if his friend’s many injuries had finally taken their toll. Gods, if the kid had lost his mind due to lack of sleep, Kheled might complete the work of the pebble which had nearly claimed Raimie’s life.

  “What are you talking about?” He uneasily chuckled. “I know you need rest, my friend, but-”

  “Where is Order, Erianger?” Creation asked. “Truly look at this man who wears your friend’s body. Is he Raimie?”

  How the Ele splinter had noticed before Kheled, he couldn’t comprehend, but Raimie’s splinter of Order had indeed vanished. Even when he commanded the splinter to make itself visible, it didn’t comply. Furthermore, Raimie unquestionably appeared to have changed. The kid had adopted a posture of easy confidence which managed to also radiate disquiet and his eyes! Gods, the pupils were enormous! Kheled took a step forward, concerned his suspicions of head injury would prove true. The kid’s face twisting into sneering amusement brought him up short.