Chapter 28

The Coming Darkness

The raven flew in lazy circles high above the red-tiled rooftops of the castle, its bead-like eyes scanning the landscape below. It had once been a very beautiful bird—sleek and strong—but that was before. Now, it had nearly come to the end of its strength, its life essence depleted in slavery to the alien intelligence that guided its every move.

Hundreds of leagues to the north, deep within his mountain prison, the Nameless One seethed with malevolent triumph. Through the eyes of the raven, he had seen it—the Key, at long last! It burned within its vessel—a cold blue fire—pulsing in rhythm to the beat of the life force that sustained it.

For weeks, he had concentrated his search to the southeast, beyond the Great Forest, but he had been unable to pinpoint its exact position. He had used up many ravens in the search, and his frustration had grown with each passing day. Then, quite unexpectedly, he had felt the unique energy of the Key surge through the aether, alerting him to its location. A nearby raven had been dispatched to a mid-sized castle in the southern borderlands.

Through the eyes of his small tool, he had observed the vessel and had beheld the glorious light of his Key, illuminating its flesh like a beacon. Now that he finally knew the exact nature of the vessel and where it lay, he needed to find a way to get both his ring and the vessel to him. Only then could he resume what had been interrupted by bitterest treachery over five lifetimes ago. It would not be easy. He needed a willing ally in the outside world, preferably one trained in the use of magic. He felt confident he would find such an individual among the ranks of Alasiri’s professional mages, one who could be bent to his purpose by the lure of greater power. Were not all magicians driven to a certain degree by the thirst for more power and knowledge?

No, it would not be easy, but it could be done.

A sound like the winter wind sluicing among the high, icy peaks of the Kesen Numai Mountains echoed through the dark chamber deep beneath the ancient fortress—the sound of The Nameless One laughing.

~~~

It is time.

Do you think the girl is ready?

Yes. She has already come to me asking to learn about what she calls her ‘blue fire.’

Still...She is very young, and such a burden would be extremely difficult for a trained, experienced mage, let alone a hikui girl!

What other choice do we have?

None...Very well…Begin the girl’s training.  When she is further along, you will bring her to Sendai. I shall take over then.

There is still the question about our own strength. When the time comes, I fear that, without a full complement, we will be unable to complete the Working.

I am concerned as well, but there is no one suitable that we could invite to join us.

There is my son.

Your son is untrained…because of your family tradition, I might add!

I am beginning to deeply regret that. He is the only one of my children who has inherited the strength of my Talent, it seems.

Does he even know how powerful a mage he could become?

No. I put a block in place when he was a child, after I was certain of the magnitude of his Talent. I have kept it all from him, mainly to spare him the frustration.

Even if you began training him now, yourself, he could never be ready…Not for a Great Working.

He doesn’t have to have the skill of a full-fledged mage. He only needs to know how to control and direct the proper energies…and be willing to perform the Sundering, if need be.

Can you be certain he will strike the killing blow if called upon? If what you say is true and he is in love with this girl, he may hesitate at the last moment. I don’t have to tell you what that will mean.

He will do what’s necessary. My son understands quite well the concept of duty.

The girl’s father…You are sure of his identity?

I’ve seen the ring myself.

It could be some sort of a deception.

Unlikely!

This changes nothing, you know. All must go forward as planned.

I know…This is going to be so hard on my son…I’ve decided to allow him and the girl to be together so that they might have a little happiness beforehand.

Do you think that’s wise? It will only make it more difficult for them in the end. It seems rather cruel to me.

‘Cruel’ is a harsh word…My son loves this girl. It’s not wise, but I’ve denied my child so much. I’ve forced him into a life that goes against his basic nature, deceived him about a fundamental part of his being…

You’ve allowed guilt to cloud your judgment.

Perhaps, but it’s a mother’s prerogative to indulge her children.

I just hope it doesn’t prove to be an obstacle.

When the time comes, they will both do what they must.

Keep me informed.

Of course. I’ll contact you again soon.

Amara opened her eyes and took a deep breath. The mental exchange with her colleague in the capital had taken only a short amount of time, but it had required that she expend a great deal of energy to span such a long distance.

She rubbed her eyes and yawned, then stood and stretched in an effort to fight off the weariness that weighted her limbs. Perhaps her colleague was right in pointing out the cruelty of allowing Ashinji and the girl to be together, but when she had first realized the depth of her son’s feelings, Amara knew that she couldn’t stand in their way. She would be their champion and plead their case to her husband. The fact that he was obligated to grant the girl any request she made of him would make it easier. In the end, he would relent and give Ashinji permission to marry his precious Jelena.

Ashi, my beloved son, how I’ve wronged you! I should have trained you myself and tradition be damned, but I didn’t have the courage to go against my family. Never before have I questioned the rule that only the females of my line could take up magecraft until now…

Amara shook her head. She had no time for regrets. She had too much to do. They all did, they who were the remnants of the once mighty Kirian Society, a sadly diminished order, in both power and prestige. Centuries ago, when the force of Talent had waxed stronger in the elven people, the Kirians held influence second only to the king in affairs of state.

As time passed, the elves saw the strength of their Talent fading; mage schools found it increasingly difficult to find enough candidates with sufficient magical abilities who could be trained as top-level mages, and so the ranks of all the magical orders—the Kirians especially—had become depleted.

Amara had come to accept that the elves must begin to turn away from magic, that science must now become the force to propel their society forward, but many of her fellow mages stubbornly clung to their belief that the elves would always have Talent.

Well, maybe so, but not in the same form as it existed today.

Amara studied her elaborately tattooed palms. The designs were arcane symbols of her magical order. For those who could decipher them, they clearly marked her as a Kirian. She had kept her membership in the Society a secret from everyone in her family except her husband, and even he did not realize the full extent of her involvement. How would he react when she told him what would soon be required of their second-born?

How would Ashinji react?

She knew her son well enough to guess. He would be very angry at first, but not because he had always wanted to be a mage; his passion involved science, not magic. No, he would be furious at the deception itself. His anger would then turn to fear and despair for Jelena, and finally, acceptance.

Amara loved her son and wished that things could be different, but no less than the fate of the material world hung in the balance. The ancient evil in the north had begun to stir. She had seen the consequences of inaction in the waters of her scrying bowl. The thing whose name had been stripped away centuries ago must not be allowed to rise up and escape its rock-bound prison to reclaim its magic.

The task of the Kirians of old had been to put that magic beyond the reach of its creator. The task of Amara and her fellows involved securing that same magic and placing it once again beyond the reach of the one with no name. In order to do this, they would need to perform a Great Working. Currently, there weren’t enough of them to provide the necessary amount of energy.

Ashinji’s Talent could provide the energy needed…but only just. With no training, placing him in the link during a Great Working could destroy his mind, rendering him permanently insane. Amara must see to it that he learned how to channel the enormous forces that would be directed through him so that he could survive intact.

Jelena was another matter. Amara could see no way that the girl would be able to survive the Sundering. She made a decision.

The entire truth must be kept from both Ashinji and the girl until the last possible moment. The Kirians had no margin for error, and if Ashinji knew beforehand what the Sundering entailed, Amara worried that he might not be capable of going through with it, her assurances to her colleague notwithstanding.

She would pray to the Goddess every day for her son’s forgiveness.

Before Amara departed from her work chamber, she extinguished all candles and tidied her altar. Late afternoon sunlight slanted down in golden shafts to the floor through the high windows. The twins would return soon from their riding lesson, and Lani waited for her in the sitting room, eager to begin work on her new tunic.

Amara nearly choked on a sudden wave of anger.

The peace and safety of her children’s lives, of all their lives, was soon to be shattered in the terrible chaos of blood and war, and she could see no way to avoid her part in the shattering.

As she made her way down the hall that led to her sitting room, Amara passed by an open window and paused at the sound of her second son’s voice. Her breath caught in her chest as the sweet refrain of an old love song floated upwards on the breeze, soft and slightly off-key. Amara leaned over the sill to see her son sitting on a bench in her private garden, Jelena by his side.

They sat, fingers entwined, her head resting on his shoulder. As she listened to Ashinji sing, the melody swept Amara on the tide of memory, back to a time when she had been young and in love with the most beautiful man in all the world. Sen had never been much of a singer either, but whenever he dared, it always sounded sweet to her ears.

Amara turned away and left her son and Jelena to their peaceful tryst. Footsteps weighted down with sorrow, she continued on her way, knowing that it must all end.

I just pray that we all have the strength to survive what’s coming.