Splintered Loyalties

by S. B. Sebrick

  "I suppose, while we're here alone. With a cavern all to ourselves," Bahjal said, her soft voice trailing off as she kissed his neck.

  "Mmmmm," Keevan echoed, kissing her cheek and taking another deep breath of her perfumed hair. She pushed him against the rungs of the ladder as he held her close. Suddenly he felt very aware of her curves as her kisses worked their way up to his lips. Electricity flashed, blinding him and searing his lips. The blast drove Keevan against the ladder, knocking the wind from his lungs as he sank to his knees.

  "Keeves? Are you alright?" Bahjal pleaded, staring at him in shock, then back down at her hands. They still crackled with bright pulses of electricity.

  "I think so," Keevan grunted, clutching his cheek. He could feel the electrical burn swelling up under his calloused fingers. The muscles in his left shoulder twitched painfully with a similar burn, where the blast left his body and jumped into the ladder. "Why did you do that?"

  "I couldn't help it," Bahjal echoed numbly. "I was getting ... excited."

  "I've never seen anticipation generate that much electricity," Keevan said, rising shakily to his feet. His left arm twitched and tingled from the blast.

  "You've also never sparked with a Tri-Being before," Bahjal said. Her voice was emotionless now, full of that dutiful inner peace the Suadans were so proud of. Keevan didn't have to use his elemental vision to know she'd completely taken control of her emotions.

  "So, when Tri-Being's get excited..." Keevan asked, sighing in realization. "No wonder it's so hard for Tri-Beings to have children."

  "It is a tricky thing for Tri-Beings," Bahjal admitted. A breath of frost settled over her skin. "Unborn children are particularly fragile and have no elemental powers. Enjoying a physical relationship can easily cause harm to the baby."

  "Or to the Outlander," Keevan finished. Massaging his sore shoulder, he looked at her with pained, longing eyes. "I couldn't survive getting close to you. Could I? That must be why my parents have been so tight-lipped on the subject. They couldn't bear to tell me."

  "Honestly, yes," Bahjal sighed. "Tri-Beings use all three elements when they're love making. You wouldn't survive being with me. I'm sorry, but I need to go. We'll talk later," With that, she pushed past him, hurrying up the ladder. Keevan watched her leave, noticing the ice lining the loops of her Suadan dress.

  His mind raced, trying to put all the pieces together. Both times, when he'd kissed her, she'd merely held him and accepted the gesture. Her thoughts must have focused on the safety she felt in their relationship. When she reciprocated though, when the exchange went beyond merely feeling safe, elements and emotions arose that even she couldn't control. He scraped his brain for any way around the painful obstacle, but found only a dead end and electrical burns.

  "That was not how the kiss was supposed to end," Keevan sighed.

  Chapter 4

  Kade Mathur, High Priest of Raejin, stood on his terrace overlooking Issamere. The pale moon hung on a heavy breeze tonight, the byproduct of so many Suadan acolytes forcing the city's excess moisture up above the buildings. The evening light accentuated the grey streaks in his thinning brown hair. He rolled his neck from one side to the other, stretching those muscles, stiff from staring down at ending pages of records and reports.

  Sitting at a desk all day was far from his usual daily routine, but the city was alive with rumors and hidden truths. Telling them apart was his job. Those blasted sender stones made that job all the more difficult, for even his runners didn't remember the messages they delivered, leaving him only a list of the recipients and their locations, pasted over a large map of Issamere.

  The Spiked Citadel rose another five stories above the empty harvest halls and crowded huts of the northern Rhetan District. Even despite their desperate circumstances, not one of the many refugees chose to camp against the walls of Raejin's fortress, much less request sanctuary within. Most saw the mere approach of one of Raejin's priests as an ill omen. Kade didn't mind. The lightning temple was one of the few shrines purely dedicated to Raejin. The Suadans and Beletokans served the living, offering healing or protection in war. No one looked to the Spiked Citadel until the bodies piled up.

  Best of all, Kade's runners were the fastest messengers in the city, with the sharpest memories. Few events transpired in Issamere that Kade didn't at least hear whispers of, if not complete reports. The most recent of which were very disquieting. From his high perch, he looked down on the countless black shadows milling around the lower districts. Starving farmers, bankrupt merchants and battered refugees all looking to Issamere for support and protection. He couldn't shake the feeling men like Zerik would use them for far less noble means.

  Kade rolled a crumpled piece of parchment between his fingers. This week alone, his citadel had buried more Tri-Beings than in the entire previous month. Powerful men were about to lock horns and the people were the ones who would suffer most. The majority of Etrendi saw themselves as something above and apart from the Rhetans, but Kade had buried so many of both, he saw them all as one people. Worthy of guidance and protection.

  Zerik probably planned to use them as a weapon, a disposable one he didn't even intend to maintain. The whole mess stirred nausea and anger in Kade's chest. Orange veins glowed on his wrists and hands, until he took a steadying breath and let go of his frustration. There would be a time for death, and sooner than Kade would like, if Zerik had his way.

  The fallen Malik fought like a coward, striking from the shadows through his followers, but never in person. Granted, if he were easy to find, Kade would have sought him out years ago. For all his flaws, Malik Morgra at least kept his people alive, assuming they fell in line behind his Persuaders. Zerik seemed determined to destroy the city, if he couldn't reclaim his position. So much for leaders who loved the people. Kade shook his head.

  One hundred and fifty years ago, Danica was a myth and life among the Tri-Beings was much simpler. Everyone knew their place and did their part. Kade could anticipate decades into the future and plan accordingly. Now, he only saw a few weeks ahead, and all roads lead to a perilous choice.

  "How can we protect the people," he wondered aloud. His words faded into the still air, empty and hollow. "If their leaders don't care what happens to them?"

  Chapter 5

  Keevan awoke the next morning to stiff muscles, tender electrical burns, aching bruises and an insistent fist hammering on the front door downstairs. Rolling onto his side, he peeked out the window. Only the faintest shades of grey lined the black southern mountains, not even the sun felt the need to wake at this ungodly hour. The door creaked open and he heard Masha's voice, was too muffled to make out the details.

  Rolling out of bed, Keevan used his elemental vision to light his way as he pulled open a few dresser drawers and pulled out his Persuader student uniform. Masha's work in the Suadan temple and Nariem's forge would never bring a runner to their door in the pre-dawn hours. Only Keevan's profession of choice could be to blame. Even Hadrian didn't rouse them this early.

  The leather and linen uniform was half armor and half court trappings. He slid the wool breeches on over his small clothes, tightening his leather belt around his waist before throwing on the shirt. The rough fabric itched against his forearms and ankles, making him grateful for his small clothes. Students' uniforms sported only the red, yellow and blue colors of the Malik, embroidered into the seams as decoration. The rest of the shirt was dull brown leather, waiting to be filled with the medals and accolades of loyal service.

  At this point, Keevan would gladly trade all the wealth of Issamere for the chance to be close to Bahjal, without putting himself at risk of electrocution. His tired mind toyed with the idea of somehow counteracting Sasha's elements to allow for a real kiss, but to no avail.

  "Keeves," Masha said, tapping on his door.

  "They're calling all the Persuaders, students included," Keevan grumbled back. "I'll meet them at the academy."

  She chuckled. "Nice try, dear boy, but you
're a bit off. The Malik is calling all the Persuaders. Meet at the southern Steam Gardens. You know the place?"

  "Yes," Keevan answered. "If all else fails, I'll find a Persuader to follow to the meeting. No one else will be in the streets at this hour. They won't be hard to find."

  "Very well," Masha relented. "There's some dried pears in the kitchen, at least take a handful to snack on 'till breakfast."

  "I will," Keevan promised. Opening another drawer, he pulled out his scabbard and practice sword. Students constantly wore their training weapons as reminders of their place among the Persuaders. The practice gave the Malik a good excuse to keep his fully fledged Persuaders armed at all times, just in case.

  "Good night then, hopefully I'll see you for dinner," Masha said.

  "Good night,"

  Her footsteps faded into the bedroom across the hall, the floorboards creaking in complaint as she went back to bed. Cinching his belt tight once more, Keevan took a quick glance at his reflection in the window. His glowing eyes made the armor look black by contrast. Looking at himself in the elemental plane was always unnerving, a constant reminder of his existence in a world to which he didn't belong. The uniform glowed along the edges, where slivers of Danica were stitched into the fabric to keep Tri-Being students from setting their uniforms on fire. An unnecessary precaution, in Keevan's case.

  He thought of Corvan with an angry grunt. Somewhere in Issamere lived a Varadour, an Outlander like himself, though with a very different set of powers. For the last month, every guild and faction on the council had searched for Corvan, but as of yet, no proclamations of success filled the streets. Partly due to Keevan's interactions with Corvan upon his escape, even Persuader Madol had avoided sharing details of the hunt.

  A part of Keevan longed for the truths Corvan held about the Outlander world. There were so many questions he had about the culture, the people and especially their powers. What were the people like? The women? He'd read about Sight Seekers in ancient times who could go beyond seeing the elements. Did Sight Seekers normally get stuck in a single plane of sight? In his case, seeing the elemental plane and nothing more?

  The more responsible part of his mind cringed at the thought of such an interaction. As a student Persuader, part of his duty lay in enforcing the Malik's decrees, and hunting Corvan down was at the top of the list. He couldn't meet with Corvan without betraying his new masters, ones who could guarantee his survival against the Harbor Guild, or the opposite if their feelings toward him worsened.

  Keevan shook aside those concerns and headed downstairs. Surely, Corvan knew better than to risk contacting the only other Outlander on the continent. Harbor Guild and Malik alike would anticipate such actions, with well-paid spies in place to arrest them both. There were two beggars in particular who'd recently settled in the alley across the way, their elemental fields unusually large for Rhetans, although they controlled their emotions well enough to hide their true strength from the average passerby.

  Gathering a handful of fruit into another sack at his belt, Keevan pulled his cloak from its hangar by the door and ventured out into the pre-dawn dark. Issamere lay before him in a dark mixture of blacks, greys and shadowy blues. The night air was heavy and nibbled at Keevan's nose as he tightened his cloak around his shoulders.

  In a few minutes, Keevan found a handful of Persuader students answering the summons. All of them wore the same leather uniform with red, blue and yellow stitched into the seams. A few students were too poor to afford a decent cloak, instead latching onto their anger to warm their bodies. Those were the ones who grumbled the loudest about the injustice of such early orders.

  "I'd say good morning, but I'd be lying," Urien said, walking up alongside Keevan. His thick black cloak gave the impression the large boy was more boulder than person, rolling along with a tired determination.

  "It's like they want to make sure the students aren't going to ice-out the moment things get chilly," Keevan muttered.

  "Bah," Urien scoffed. "That's a load of pig's swallow. You don't survive training like Hadrian's without being in control of your emotions. Even if some of us have to stay angry in order to keep the ice at bay." He pointed to a few students on the far side of the street, the air behind them so warm their surroundings actually warped with heat like a cobblestone road on a summer afternoon. The seams of their uniforms glowed as well, designed to resist burning, thanks to a few well-placed slivers of repulsor fragments, banishing excess heat.

  Up ahead, Keevan spotted Merkim and his friends from the Harbor Guild. For once, they looked too bleary eyed and sleepy to make fun of him. The students numbered over three dozen when they hit the stairs. Above them, the Steam Gardens were already spewing a white cloud of moisture into the air. At least, the Persuaders weren't the only ones force to wake before the sun.

  When they reached the gardens, Keevan blinked twice in surprise. The air felt notably warmer and thicker hear, making his tightly wound cloak feel stuffy and uncomfortably hot. A dozen Rhetans were finishing the final touches on a pavilion, set up on the edge of the cliff overlooking the eastern half of Issamere. The mountains in the distance were lined with the golden light of the rising sun, as if the Malik wanted himself associated with the power of the sunrise itself. About two hundred chairs faced the raised platform, the last of which were reserved for the students.

  They each filed into a row, settling into a quiet hush of speculation. What news could possibly involve all the Persuaders? Was war on the horizon? Peace with the southern tribes was always tenuous at best. Were they taking the hunt of Corvan to the next level?

  Of all the questions slithering through the crowd, Keevan noticed that none of them mentioned the recent famine or the starving Rhetans. Bahjal was right, the academy kept the students out of touch with Issamere's recent events. Guilt nibbled at him, that so many should go without food as the price for him dealing with Kors and damaging the Great Crystal. A part of him still felt surprised that they'd admitted him into the academy at all, after his actions wounded Issamere so.

  They didn't have to wait long. The rest of the Persuaders filed in, Persuader Madol among them. Each wore the same leather uniform as the students, but their shirts were dotted with pins, medals and award for loyal service. They had a grim determination to them, as if they were ready to chew through steel at their master's behest. Perhaps that was the early morning hours stealing their good cheer, or they knew something the students did not.

  After the Persuaders were seated, three columns of servants emerged from different parts of the garden. The first two, were emissaries from the Suadans and Beletokans. Keevan recognized Lanasha in all her Suadan glory and Pyran Ignius, the Beletokan High Priest, each with a full complement of guards escorting them to their seats on the pavilion. They sat on mobile platforms, each one supported by a dozen burly Rhetans. Danica whips coiled with water and glowing axes of fire lined each end of the pavilion as if in preparation for the arrivals of the Gods themselves.

  The last column, escorted by six of the largest Persuaders Keevan had ever seen, escorted the Malik himself. This was Keevan's first time seeing Issamere's ruler in person. Malik Morgra sat on a platform of his own, wrapped in a thick cloak and heavy plate armor. White fire crackled in his right hand, an intense temperature that would have burned out the limb of lesser Tri-Beings. Lightning crackled up and down his left arm. Loops of water roiled around him like a family of hungry serpents. Malik Morgra's reputation as a master of water, lightning and fire was not unfounded. Seeing the most powerful Etrendi in the city and his body guards was a daunting sight.

  After a moment of indecision, Keevan couldn't stand the temptation any longer. He glanced at them through the elemental plane. For once, his fellow students were too awed by their surroundings to notice his glowing eyes. The combined elemental fields of so many Tri-Beings reached so far out and up above them, he felt like he sat in a spider web of pure power.

  The mixed elements of the steam gardens split into tw
o with the arrival of the ruling Etrendi. Heat crept up around the Beletokans on their left, like a tide of raw power. Moisture coiled around the Suadans on their right, pulling the fog around them like a protective cloak. When Malik Morgra reached the Dias where the Temple Masters sat, he extended his hands and closed his eyes.

  Immediately, the surrounding elements fled before the Malik, even those in reach of the Temple Masters. Moisture poured out down the cliff, floating toward the Rhetan districts. The surrounding heat fled back toward the distant fountains. Even the mild electric field in the area vanished.

  Keevan noticed enough warmth and moisture remained to keep the Tri-Beings' attention, but no more. He gulped nervously. Malik Morgra didn't gather or generate elements, he controlled them with absolute power. Only the combined will of all three High Priests might be enough to counter him, perhaps.

  "I've never felt the Malik's power before," Urien said, eyes wide in awe. "It's like how I felt on a warm summer's morning as I child. I feel so safe."

  "That's what happens when you banish the surrounding electrical field," Keevan said, sharing his friend's fascination. Usually, when Tri-Beings' elemental fields touched, they fought over the surrounding elements, each clutching to a cache of heat or moisture to suit his or her emotions. The Malik suffered no such limitations. Any element within his field was bound to his strict control. Even the Temple Masters lacked the strength to challenge so strong an elemental field.

  "How can any of the southern tribes oppose us when we have this kind of power at our beckon call?" Urien wondered aloud.

  "I never knew we had someone like this on our side," Keevan echoed quietly. Now he understood why Madol insisted so heavily on keeping Malik Morgra's trust. The Harbor Guild would never dare cross so powerful a Tri-Being. Suddenly, Kors and Zerik's rebel efforts looked hopeless indeed, and Keevan couldn't even feel the emotions the Malik was conveying to the surrounding Tri-Beings.

  "Persuaders and students of Issamere," Malik Morgra said, taking his place at the head of the Pavilion. "I've called you all together to make an announcement of great importance. Upon graduating from the academy, you will all be trusted with the delivery of justice and the offering of protection to the inhabitants of our great city."