The Aether of Night

by Brandon Sanderson

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Shaad said comfortingly.

  D’Naa just shook her head, rolling her eyes. “You know what I think of them, grandmother,” she said frankly. “I can’t honestly say that I’m disappointed.”

  Hlin just snorted. “The boy must be blind,” he informed. “Of course, from what I’ve heard, he’s not too sharp up top. They absolutely hate him on the northern border, and the Kavir ambassador says no one in the palace can stand him either.”

  “Hlin!” Shaad snapped. “This is our Emperor you are speaking of.”

  “I’ll speak of who I want to,” Hlin grumbled quietly, though he didn’t meet his wife’s angry glare.

  Shaad turned back to D’Naa, concern in her aged eyes. Finally, she spoke. “Child, perhaps it’s time you knew something. The King didn’t send you here to get married.”

  D’Naa looked up with surprise. “What?” she asked.

  Hlin and Shaad shared a look, then the matronly woman turned back to D’Naa. “Your cousin never expected you to be chosen, dear,” she explained.

  “No one did,” D’Naa said. “Not really.”

  “It’s more than that,” Shaad explained. “The King sent you with a specific purpose in mind. He knew that no High Aedin would choose a Kavir bride for his son, so he used the opportunity to fulfill a different goal.”

  D’Naa frowned to herself, looking from Shaad to Hlin with concern. “What are you talking about? What other goal?”

  There was a brief pause, and finally Hlin spoke. “Amberite,” he said. “We need to steal an Amberite Bud.”

  D’Naa blinked in shock, taken aback. “What?” she asked.

  “We need Amberite, dear,” Shaad explained. “Kavir obtained a Verdant Bud through much difficulty and expenditure, but we haven’t been able to get a powerful enough Amberite Bud.”

  “Amberite is the strongest of the Aethers,” Hlin said. “If we’re going to defend ourselves against the Harrmen or—D’Lum bless that this never happens—the High Aedin themselves, we’ll need Amberite Bonds of our own.”

  Suddenly, things started to make sense. Though his options had been slim, D’Naa knew she wasn’t the most beautiful woman King Ala’D could have chosen, nor was she the most skilled politically. She only had one thing special about her. Her Aether.

  “Blessed D’Lum!” D’Naa exclaimed with amazement. “He wants me to steal it for him?”

  “Yes, dear,” Shaad agreed. “You’re the most powerful Verdant Bond Kavir has, and you also happened to be of the perfect age for the Bride Choosing. King Ala’D knew that the Choosing would get you into the palace, and hopes that your Aether will let you get the Bud.”

  He didn’t expect me to be Chosen, D’Naa realized. In fact, he probably hoped I wouldn’t be. My Verdant, hideable as it is, would be too much of risk if I did end up marrying Hern.

  “Even the King didn’t believe in me,” she whispered, a little bit shocked. Then, despite herself, she smiled. “I went through all that for nothing!”

  “It’s not that, dear,” Shaad comforted. “We had to send someone—it’s required. So, why not make use of the opportunity?”

  D’Naa just shook her head in amusement. However, as she did so the reality of the situation fell upon her. Times were growing increasingly dangerous. If Kavir ever needed the added help of Amberite, it was now.

  “How do I do it?” she asked, setting her empty cup aside.

  Shaad immediately picked up the cup, though D’Naa wasn’t certain what the woman intended to do with it—their rooms didn’t have a washing tub.

  “We need a strong Bud, child,” Hlin explained. “It can’t come from just anywhere. We need a Bud that will not only survive the trip back to Kavir without a host, but also one that will Bond powerfully enough that it can, in turn, be chipped to create other Buds. Creating a single Amberite warrior won’t do us any good—we need an army.”

  “There’s only one way to get a Bud that strong,” Shaad explained, stowing the dirty cup away in a basket she had obviously decided to appropriate for dirty dishes.

  “We need to chip it from the hand of a very powerful Amberite Bond,” Hlin said. “A High Aedin Bond from an Heir’s line. The stronger the Bond of the person we take it from, the better our chances of succeeding.”

  “And,” Shaad finished, “the strongest known Aether Bond in the Imperium is here, in the palace.”

  “Prince Hern,” D’Naa realized with widening eyes.

  #

  For the first time in his adult life, Raeth felt like a true High Aedin. He swept out of Hern’s rooms, dressed in his brother’s gray trousers and shirt, broad red cloak flapping behind him. Darro walked at his side, their boots clicking against the mural-inlayed tile floor.

  Tarrinon hustled from his clerical alcove, a smaller room just outside Hern’s quarters. “If your conference with your brother is finished, my lord,” the diminutive Shorriken man said, “you’ll want to make your way to the Senate hall. The pre-speeches have already begun, and your Bride Choosing is set to take place in about an hour. After that—”

  Raeth held up a hand, pausing in the hallway. “What is being done about the disturbance to the north?” he asked.

  Tarrinon paused, looking up from his appointment book. “My Lord?” he asked.

  “The attack,” Raeth said. “You’re the one who told me they’re calling it Yenniv Lan. Don’t tell me that the Senate has decided to ignore the end of the world just so they can watch me pick a wife.”

  Tarrinon frowned. “Of course not, my lord. But, as I’ve already explained to you, the War Counsel is seeing to the problem.”

  “Hern, over here,” Darro said, waving him toward one of the hallway’s vaulted windows.

  Raeth joined his brother, looking out over the city. Just to the right of the palace, in the military district, hundreds of white lines were shooting into the air. The trails of light arced in the air, fading slowly as they pointed to the north.

  “Let’s go,” Raeth said.

  #

  Tarrinon did not like the idea of Raeth ignoring his ‘appointments.’ However, Raeth was not about to go stand in the Senate Hall and fiddle with politics while the Imperium was under attack. Tarrinon’s complaints fell silent after Raeth and Darro left the palace and requisitioned a Corpate. Now the scribe just looked resigned as he rode beside them.

  The Sendings continued, dozens upon dozens of them shooting into the air. At least someone is doing something, Raeth thought as they entered Vae Annitor’s military district. It was still beautiful, of course, but the architecture here was also more utilitarian. Single homes were joined into long, almost barrack-like rectangular buildings, and there were no fewer than four Sending Platforms.

  Raeth and Darro simply followed the Sending trails. The southern platform seemed to be getting the most use, so he ordered the Nurturer to take them through the maze of squat buildings, until they located a large crowd of armed men, divided by Aether and race, standing in ranks.

  “There,” Darro said, pointing toward a group of men in High Aedin cloaks. Most of them were Bestarin or Amberite, but a couple were Verdant as well. “The War Counsel.”

  Raeth nodded, climbing down from the Corpate. Once Darro joined him, they strode forward toward the War Counsel. Raeth recognized some of them, but not others. I’ve been in the Irae too long—I’ve lost track of what has been happening in the Senate. The War Counsel members weren’t Senators, but they were nearly as important—second sons of powerful Lines, or first sons of non-representative sub-Lines.

  I don’t know them, Raeth thought as he approached, but they know me—or they think they do. For the first time, he realized that if he were going to pretend to be Hern, he would have to try and act somewhat like his brother.

  Raeth firmed his step, trying to adopt a Hern-like air of arrogance. He was going to have to walk a fine line—he had to convince them he was Hern, or at least give them no reason to doubt him, but at the same time he had to avoid
making mistakes Hern would.

  The War Counsel looked up as Raeth approached. They grew stiff and formal when they saw him, obviously bracing themselves for something unpleasant. The lead general in the Counsel adopted a thin-lipped expression as Raeth paused before him.

  “Your majesty,” the man said. He was tall and thin, and he obviously wore shoulder-pads under his cloak in an attempt to look more imposing. Raeth recognized him; Gaedin of the Amberite Line, a cousin to he and Darro.

  Raeth nodded. “General Gaedin,” he said, looking over the Sending platform. Two dozen Vo-Dari stood, sending wave after wave of soldiers to the north. “Where are they going?”

  “To the north, your majesty,” Gaedin said smoothly. The other Counsel members resisted smiling, but a few eyes twinkled slightly at the sarcastic comment.

  “I can see that much, general,” Raeth said with a frown. “Are you Sending them to the border, or directly to Saeris Va? What is the status of the creatures? Are they holding in the City of the Ancestors, are they marching southward, or are they going somewhere else entirely?”

  Gaedin blinked, slightly surprised. Raeth gritted his teeth in frustration—he was already making the man suspicious.

  “Well, speak you fool,” Raeth forced himself to say with an arrogant air. “I have to know what is going on so I can direct this conflict. I am, after all, the Emperor.”

  Gaedin’s surprise vanished, replaced by hard eyes. “Of course, your majesty,” he said with a nod. “We’ve selected a fortified pass just south of Saeris Va, and are gathering our men there. If the shadow creatures do decide to march south, they will not get far. I promise you, we have the matter well under control. Why don’t you let us handle this part of the conflict? Simple troop movements are hardly worth your Imperial time, your majesty.”

  Raeth frowned as another group of soldiers shot away. How could he work with men who were convinced he was a fool? “Where is General Taenen?” Raeth asked, remembering the owl-eyed man who had helped him the day before. He looked through the collected generals. Had Taenen survived the attacks the day before? “Why isn’t he here?”

  “Your majesty, you of all people should know why Taenen isn’t here,” Gaedin replied. “He’s in his place, with the men up north. The War Counsel is made up of strategic generals, not deployment generals.”

  Raeth flushed slightly at the mistake. Gaedin wasn’t condescending in his tone—but he did speak simply, almost as if he were instructing a child. Hern was an idiot, but even he wasn’t this dense. These men are mocking me. They certainly have high opinions of themselves if they think they can treat their Emperor so.

  “Your majesty,” Gaedin said, “I hear the Senate is waiting to ratify you. Shouldn’t you go? You don’t expect the men to follow you if you haven’t officially been named Emperor, do you?”

  Raeth flushed, turning on Gaedin with angry eyes. Then, however, he saw the collection of a dozen generals looking at him, their eyes tolerant. They were used to Hern—they expected him to yell and whine. It was part of what made them disrespect him.

  “You are right, of course, general,” Raeth said. “I should see to my political duties first. Continue the Sendings, but do not engage the enemy until I have a chance to study your strategies.”

  He saw a couple flashes of surprise in the generals’ eyes at his tone. Gaedin frowned only briefly, then bowed. “Of course, my lord,” he said.

  #

  “These are difficult times,” Laene, High Senator, said, his voice resounding through the open-walled, domed building that was the Senate Hall. All three tiers of the Hall were crowded with people, especially the lowest one, which was for regular citizens. The Senators themselves sat on the raised middle tier, their large chairs plush, each one surrounded by aids and pages. The upper Tier, which was reserved for High Aedin or other nobility, was shadowed from the domed roof, and its occupants watched with careful eyes.

  “We have lost a beloved Emperor,” Laene continued, “and our blessed nation appears to be under attack from a force not yet understood. It is certain we need leadership. Fortunately, we have that leadership—in the form of an Heir, already ratified by this Senate. It is with that understanding that I call for the vote to ratify Hern, son of Vaetayn, Head of the Amberite Line, as Emperor.”

  Raeth frowned to himself, suspicious. He sat on the dais behind Laene, in a simple chair. He sat alone save for one attendant, Tarrinon.

  Was Darro wrong? Raeth wondered. He told me Laene was trying to subvert Hern’s authority.

  There seemed to be none of that at the moment. If anything, Laene appeared to be a strong supporter of Raeth’s ascension.

  “Vaenan of the Bestarin Line,” Laene said, “your vote is first.”

  “I vote to Ratify,” the Bestarin man replied from his seat on the middle tier.

  That’s it, Raeth realized. It takes a unanimous vote to change an Heir. One vote in my favor, and I’m ratified. Or, rather, Hern is ratified.

  That had to be it. Laene knew he couldn’t win—he knew he couldn’t get every single vote. What good would it do him to fight a doomed battle? It was much better to simply join the winning side. Relieved, Raeth listened to the ratification vote. Apparently, the other Senators agreed with his theory, for they all voted for him. Once one vote was cast in his favor, then it didn’t make any sense to object. Why—

  “I vote against ratification!” a voice snapped.

  Raeth looked up with surprise. A man in a simple robe stood on the middle tier, his face a dark tan. One of the two Khur Senators.

  “This man is a blasphemer!” the Khur man continued, pointing accusingly at Raeth. “He holds no reverence for the law.”

  “Your objection is noted, En-Harra,” Laene said.

  “I am not finished, Aedin!” the Khur man snapped. “Do you know what your Emperor did? Do you know how he tarnished a fair flower of the Khur people? Do your own Aedin laws not speak against him?”

  “What’s he talking about?” Raeth whispered to Tarrinon, troubled.

  “Last night, my lord,” Tarrinon said back. “The Khur Bride claims you tainted her by forcing her to accept a Sending.”

  “She was going to die!” Raeth objected.

  “She is Khur, my lord,” Tarrinon explained. “She would rather have died.”

  “This is an outrage to the Khur people!” the Senator, En-Harra, continued. “It proves that your own laws are void and forfeit. The holy precepts of Kamman prove your unworthiness. The Five Self-Deductive Truths condemn you. Death seeping from the north, that is your repayment. God’s perfection will no longer stand your blasphemy!”

  The words echoed through the silent room, and Raeth felt himself cringe slightly at each one.

  “Don’t worry to much, my lord,” Tarrinon said.

  “But, what if I’ve created a political disaster?” Raeth whispered. The Khur were the most dissatisfied group in the Imperium. If his actions caused them to rebel now, with the troubles to the north… .

  “No Khur Senator has ever voted to ratify an Aedin Emperor,” Tarrinon said in his simple, matter-of-fact tone. “If you hadn’t tainted their Bride Offering, he would have found another reason to object to you.”

  The words weren’t very comforting. Fortunately, En-Harra seemed finished, and Laene continued the vote. The second Khur Senator voted as his companion had, but every one else voted in favor of ratification.

  “The vote is ninety-three percent in favor of ratification,” Laene said. “We have a new Emperor.”

  Raeth felt a slight sense of relief. For some reason, he had been expecting trouble with the vote. Apparently, the problems to the north were enough to convince the Senate toward unity.

  “I now give the podium to Lady Arasisae, Senator from the Ferrous Line, who has requested an opportunity to speak,” Laene said, stepping down. A middle-aged woman stood from her place on the middle tier. Arasisae was the current wife of Kaen, the eternal Corpate head of the Ferrous Line. Since Kaen himsel
f was frozen inside his metallic statue of a body, his chosen wife took his place on the Senate.

  “It is fortunate we have a strong Emperor to lead us,” Arasisae said as soon as she took the podium. Like many of her Line, she was stern and statuesque, and she wore her blonde hair down, after Aedin fashion. “However, we must look to the future, Senators. What if we lose this Emperor as well? Who will lead us then?

  “I do not wish to speak ill of our departed leader, but these are difficult times. I shall try to couch my words in moderation. Senators, you all know the reputation born by Vaetayn’s third son. He is a known drunkard and carouser, and is often seen in the company of ill-reputed individuals. Tell me, Senators, what would happen if he were given the throne? Would be able to respect ourselves, or our beloved country?”

  Raeth frowned at the comments. He could see Darro sitting above, on the third tier, but he couldn’t make out his brother’s face. Darro’s head seemed bowed, however. Ah, Darro, Raeth thought. You don’t deserve this, my friend, even if you did bring it upon yourself.

  “That is why I suggest that, as Emperor Hern has yet to have offspring, we take a departure from our usual Heir ratification. Until such time as Hern does bear a son, let us prepare for dire eventualities. Let us choose an Heir who would lead our Imperium with pride. I suggest our dear High Senator himself, Laene, be considered for this position.”

  Raeth looked up, guessing the conclusion of her speech before she said it. “A clever stroke,” he mumbled.

  “My Lord?” Tarrinon asked.

  “Nothing,” Raeth said with a shake of his head. So that’s your game, Laene, Raeth thought. You knew you couldn’t take the throne from me, but you suspected you could take it from Darro. And so you appear patriotic, then you slip in the back.

  The other Senators, of course, saw through Laene’s maneuverings as easily as Raeth did. When Laene, face coated with mock surprise and humility, retook the podium and began the voting, however, it was obvious that they didn’t care if he was manipulating them. There were several votes for Darro, but Laene easily obtained the eighty-percent he needed to be made Heir.