Page 46 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 46- SHADAE

“H ere you are,” the waiter came over to us and placed four mugs of what looked like ale on our table. The Commander, Vykros, myself, and another tracker named Lideus were sitting around it, cramped into a corner of a small establishment, in the centre of Iloris.

I looked down. There were several strands of hair floating at the surface of the beverage. I grimaced.

“Uch-um, excuse me there’s…” I pointed at the drink, trying to get the waiter’s attention.

Vykros sighed as I opened my mouth.

“Yes?” the waiter said. His tanned skin cracked with lines as he narrowed his eyes.

The Commander looked at me and shook his head. “No.”

My mouth remained wide open. I was confused.

“Is there something wrong with your drink, darling?” the waiter asked

I jumped as he slammed both his fists against the table and the cutlery on it rattled. I leant backwards. He moved closer to me.

“I…no, no.” I raised my hands and waved them from side to side. “I wasn’t—"

“Why don’t you let me fix it for you?”

“I—”

I tried to protest, but ended up watching as the waiter picked up my drink, held it to his face, and spat in it, hacking up as much saliva as he could before-hand.

He slammed it down on the table, so hard, that part of the liquid spilt over the mug, and landed onto my hand.

I looked down at the drink in shock.

“Enjoy, little miss.” He laughed to himself as he walked away, striding with thumping footsteps around the corner.

I turned to the others in disbelief. Vykros was shaking his head. Lideus was bowing his. He was quiet, and barely spoke in general. The Commander brought his own mug to his face.

“Couldn’t you have warned me?” I said to them all.

“Warned you what? That they hate us and are just waiting for any excuse to do something? Are you completely dense?” Vykros said, looking at me disdainfully.

“I was thirsty,” I complained.

Someone shoved their mug to me. It was Lideus from my right. He was still looking down.

“No, no, it’s fine you’re thirsty too, and it’s not your fault,” I told him, regretfully.

He didn’t say anything, and just pulled back his drink immediately.

What? No “I insist!” or “You should take it” or “Let’s half it.”

Well, I suppose that’s my own fault too.

“So today was useless,” Vykros said.

We’d received a report about a suspected sorcerer duo in the far east of Vasara outside of the capital, in a town called Avaire. It turned out to be nothing more than someone’s idea of petty revenge.

How much would you have to hate someone? To accuse them of being the very thing that was despised more than anything in this world. A sorcerer.

What can I say? I would have been the one placing coils around their chest. How am I any better?

I have a reason? Is that it? Is that enough?

“It happens a lot. You should know that by now,” the Commander said wearily. “False reports are far more common than verified ones.”

“I guess that’s a good thing,” I said quietly.

Vykros looked at me suspiciously, then nudged the Commander. “Did you recruit her or what? We must be getting desperate.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m oh so despaired we couldn’t catch some sorcerers today. Happy?” I asked Vykros.

“Oh, fuck off,” he said.

I couldn’t help but think, that of all the trackers who had perished, why did it have to be Vykros who was spared?

I sighed. I didn’t truthfully wish him ill, but still, he was like a thorn without any flower attached to his stem, all bite, no…emotion.

But maybe that made sense, that to survive this, to survive this job, you would have to rip your own petals off, tear the soft and gentle parts of yourself out.

The evening was approaching, and the dark orange glow of the sun setting cast circles of light on the wooden table.

It also made the thick transparent layer of saliva appear even clearer on the surface of my drink.

A few minutes passed, Vykros and Cheadd made some light conversation.

I was about to take off my jacket when a commotion was heard outside.

“…Sure…want…round….my…” someone said. That waiter. His footsteps were fast approaching around the corner.

“…Already…no…where…” another man’s voice answered him.

The two of them appeared. The second man strode towards us briskly, stopping at the edge of the table.

Lord Elias. The second man was Lord Elias.

“You, come with me.” He approached the table, looking in my direction.

I still had my jacket half off, having frozen when voices reached my ears. I looked up at him. From this angle he completely blocked out the sun with his broad frame. He glanced at my hands, clutched around the shoulders of my jacket.

“Put that on, we’re leaving.”

“My Lord,” Cheadd addressed him.

“Who are you?” Lord Elias asked.

“The Commander… My Lord.”

“Ah, yes, they said you were here as well.” He scratched his brows quickly then looked around. His eyes scuttling about as if he were…nervous?

Why would the Lord be nervous around us? Here?

“My Lord,” Cheadd said again. “We’ve been working all day, and Shadae has yet to fully recover from recent events and wounds. I’m not sure she would be of much help to you this evening.”

Lord Elias narrowed his eyes at me. “She looks fine.”

What are you doing, Commander? Weren’t you the one who said I should do as Lord Elias asks, without question, or hesitation?

I stared at the Commander, as I slid my jacket back on.

Vkyros chimed in, “My Lord, if it is assistance you require, then I can—"

“Was it you who tracked down the group of sorcerers the other night?”

“Well, no, but I—"

“What is your ability?” Elias asked him.

“A Teleporter and a Navigator but—"

“I read the report,” Elias said, “You were one of the Navigators who failed to pick up the traces she did.” He pointed at me without looking in my direction. “Weren’t you?”

“It was—"

“A what? It was your job, and you failed. So no, I don’t wish for your assistance.”

He turned back around to me, then glanced at the full mug on the table. “If you want that, drink it now, we’re going.”

I lowered my head to peer into the saliva and hair infested drink.

“Ummm, I…It’s…” I was desperately trying to find an excuse to leave it here.

Will it bother him? Will he think I’m wasting Vasara’s resources? Will it offend him if I don’t? Why is everything so complicated? Why do I have to think through every action and sentence I speak aloud around twenty times over before I decide upon it?

As I was pondering this, a voice from my right spoke.

“They spat in it,” Lideus said unfeelingly, speaking for the first time all day, still looking down.

Elias glanced at Lideus, then me. He stared at me for a few seconds. My mouth continued to open and close like a sea creature drowning for air on the shore.

Unexpectedly, he leant forwards, and picked up my drink, looking at it intently.

The waiter, who had begun slowly backing away as soon as Lideus had spoken, was stopped in his tracks when Elias, without turning around, reached behind him, and grabbed his wrist. He yanked him forwards with ease.

“Is this your doing?” he asked the man.

The man grimaced and had already begun to sweat.

“It’s nothing.” I stood, interrupting them. “It’s nothing…it’s my fault and I—"

Although I in no way believed it was my wrongdoings that led to this moment, I was willing to pretend I thought so, in order to avoid conflict. I would happily have watched as the waiter squirmed and shrieked under Elias’ gaze, but we didn’t need any more animosity from humans, the other trackers didn’t. This would, as Vykros had put it, only give them an excuse to hate us more.

“I’m ready to go, My…” I was about to address Elias, by his title, when I remembered he didn’t wish, or liked to be addressed that way. Did that only apply when he was alone or in front of others as well?

Once again, as my mind was flooded with questions, Lideus spoke.

“It was him.”

I sharply turned to Lideus, but his dark blonde hair covered the side of his face.

You refuse to speak all day but now? Now you’re speaking?

Elias needed no further confirmation. He pulled the waiter towards him then shoved the drink into his chest.

“You drink it.”

“My…My Lord I—"

“What’s the problem, it’s your saliva, isn’t it? Nobody else wants that in their mouth.”

Vkyros looked utterly captivated by the scene. Cheadd looked thoroughly suspicious. I shared both their sentiments.

Why would Elias do this? He has no cause to defend trackers, or sorcerers, or me.

“Hurry up. I’m waiting,” Elias said.

Seeing no other alternative, the man grabbed the mug with a shaky hand, and drank it in a few, thick gulps. He grimaced as he did, then coughed. That was probably the hair.

I couldn’t help but smile a little, but quickly shook my head, and corrected my facial expression.

There were other people now, who had heard the commotion and come to watch, peering from around the corner.

This was bad.

The waiter was bent forwards, choking, placing his own fingers in his throat, trying to extract the strands of hair he had so considerately put in the drink from his gullet. Elias shoved him away.

“Follow me.” He walked off without even glancing back at our table.

I turned to the Commander. He nodded for me to go.

I ran after Elias. He was already quite far ahead of me. His long legs allowed him to cross several metres each time he took a few bounding strides.

“So, you can talk,” Vkyros said to Lideus as I moved away.

My hair was up in a small, but messy tie. I raised my arms to try and place some of the errant strands back within it as I rushed after Elias, but I could barely keep up the pace, and decided to stop trying.

He didn’t halt until he reached a side street, where two horses were waiting. A young boy holding their reins was watching them.

“You may go,” Elias said to the boy, placing a ray in his palm. The boy beamed at the money and scurried off, not before he caught eyes with me, and paled instantly. My uniform gave my tracker and sorcerer status away.

“Get on,” Elias said. I looked at the horse, a grey steed, she was beautiful but…

Elias was about to ride off.

“I…” I had to raise my voice. “Don’t know how to ride.”

Elias turned around, stopped his horse, and lowered his head to meet my eyes. He appeared baffled.

Why are you baffled? How is it that you thought a tracker who was locked up for near two years knows how to ride a horse? Even if I had learnt before I was captured, I’d be terrible at riding now. What? Did you think they let us ride horses in the draining centres? It seems as if you failed to ask about all of the recreational activities you imagined they allowed us to participate in when you were interrogating me.

As much as I wanted to share my thoughts, I bit my tongue.

“We teleport…and walk, and I never learnt how to ride,” I explained.

Elias rolled his eyes and closed them for a second.

Then he rode over beside me and got off his horse.

“Get on.”

“I just said I—"

“You will sit. I will ride,” he said. At this angle, he once again, blocked out the dim sunlight that had trickled down this alleyway.

I spun my head between him and the horse.

“But—"

“Are you always this…?” Elias appeared as if he didn’t know how to finish his own question.

“No. I’m just surprised,” I answered for him, prematurely, “And I’ve never been on a horse, so I don’t know how.” I examined the series of straps, buckles, and leather items atop the animal.

Elias pointed down at a stirrup. “Place your foot in there, I’ll hold onto your arm, you use yours to grab onto the reins and hoist yourself up. If you need help, I’ll push you.”

I nodded, processing the information, and then did as he asked, clumsily. I managed to hoist myself up, sitting behind his saddle, after all, I would truly have preferred to minimise contact with Elias in general.

Seconds later, I realised that avoidance had been pointless.

Within the time it took me to let out one breath, Elias had mounted the horse, and was sitting in front of me, on his saddle. He reached out and grabbed the reins.

“Hold onto me,” he said, sounding extremely reluctant.

“Ummm…Where?”

“What do you mean where? Where do you think?” His voice was sharp.

I very slowly placed my arms around his torso. I could have sworn Elias shuddered at my touch in discomfort, but behind his back, I had my lips pressed together in the same discomfort as well.

As soon as I had a loose grip on his abdomen, he rode off. I let out a little gasp and grabbed onto him tighter. My fingers dug into the fabric of the thin shirt escaping between his bronze plates of armour, at the top and bottom of his torso.

Elias rode with no reserve or consideration for anyone in his path. It was as if he knew they would hear him and disperse before he was too close. The wind slapped at my skin, and pulled more hair from my tie, pressing it across my face, and into my mouth. He was going so fast, the sounds around us were a blur, the sights equally distorted.

Sometime later, by which the sun had already begun to completely fade away, we were out of Iloris.

After it had quietened down, and there were only very few passers-by on the quiet roads, I spat some hair out from my lips and asked, “Where are we going?”

Elias ignored me.

I sighed. It was, unfortunately, loud enough for him to hear. That was the disadvantage that came with being on a road so quiet.

“I’m taking you to follow that trail again,” he replied.

Follow the trail? I’ve already explained that would be pointless, haven’t I?

I shook my head to myself. It didn’t matter. If he wanted to prove that to himself, and take me along for the ride, I had no choice.

I’d been trying to distance myself from his body this whole time, so that although my arm was around his waist, our torsos and legs were not touching, and my face was not pressed against his back. I couldn’t see anything over his wide frame at all.

As I was trying to decide whether it would be worth asking any more questions, Elias spoke.

“How come the other Navigator couldn’t follow it, the trail?” He sounded suspicious.

“He…” How could I say that it was because he was arrogant and hadn’t really tried to look? That would possibly get him into trouble, and as much as I disliked him, I didn’t want him to be punished.

“He?” Elias repeated, waiting for my answer.

“It requires a lot of focus and concentration and—"

“So, he wasn’t focusing?”

“No…no, it’s just that it can be difficult to—"

“So, he isn’t up to the task?”

I sighed again, more quietly this time. “He has successfully completed missions before. It’s all just a matter of where you look and where the energy is concentrated and…exposure to…to…outside, to external influences.”

Elias looked over his shoulder at me. It had been the first time he’d made eye contact since he’d lifted my drink off the table.

“You’re making that up, aren’t you?”

“No. No, I’m not. It really is different in different circumstances,” I insisted.

“You’re protecting him,” he mumbled as he turned back around.

I laughed lightly. I couldn’t help it. Elias turned slightly back to look at me, but seemed to change his mind halfway through, and looked straight ahead again.

“Is that amusing?” he asked.

“No. It’s not.”

“And yet you laughed.” He sounded thoroughly displeased about the fact I had.

“Only because he would find it laughable to think I was protecting him,” I explained.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

Elias softly chuckled then. The vibration rippled across his torso and into my palms.

“Why?” he asked.

“I’m not protecting him,” I tried to sound convincing.

Elias stopped riding. We were in the middle of a street. We certainly hadn’t arrived anywhere.

“Why…Why have you stopped?” I asked, meekly.

“Get off.”

“What?!” I couldn’t hide the surprise in my voice, even though I know I should have made more effort to do so. He was a Lord, despite not wanting to be addressed as such. I would have done well to remember that more often.

And I, I was disposable.

“If you’re going to lie to me, then I can’t work with you. Get off and go back.”

“You can’t…I…” I stuttered in shock.

Volatile? More like an arsehole.

“I can’t ride…I can’t teleport.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” he took my wrists gently, and removed them from himself.

“I wasn’t lying!” I protested.

“You’ve said that, get off.”

My mind was blank.

“I…he—"

Elias fully turned his body towards me, his face in full view. His dark red hair had also suffered against the wind, but somehow it had fallen completely naturally around his shoulders. Meanwhile, mine was still stuck to my face and forehead in an erratic manner.

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re wasting my time,” Elias told me.

How did I always end up in situations like these? Stay a Vessel or become a tracker. Stay loyal to the trackers or feed their every secret to someone else. I could never make a decision that felt as if it were right, that allowed me to retain a shred of dignity, to retain my soul. It was as if the world was determined to syphon it away, to chip at it and watch, laugh, and bet how long it would be before I shattered it myself before I became someone I could no longer recognise.

It was not dying that frightened me. But dying while I still lived and breathed. My soul withering with time until I was nothing but an empty shell. It was not the death of the body I feared, but of myself.

But Ava, Cheadd had told me to do as Elias asked, to live. To live for Ava.

But what would this life mould me into?

And when the time came, when I had become so irrevocably changed, would I care? Would I notice?

Elias’ red eyes bore into mine. I didn’t have time to think. I didn’t have time.

I grabbed his waist again, his eyebrows shot up in alarm. He moved to grab my wrist, but I said, the words spilling out of my mouth in a rush, “I am protecting him.”

Since I’d said it so quickly, and Elias looked so stunned, I repeated, “I am.”

He searched my face from side to side. I was looking at him pleadingly. I could sense my face betrayed anxiety and doubt. After a few seconds, he turned around, and began to ride again.

“Why?” he asked in a low voice.

“Don’t you know why?” I asked.

His horse slowed down again…

“Alright, alright. I don’t know what they’ll do to him,” I confessed. The horse resumed its pace. “We don’t get along, but I don’t…want to see him suffer.”

“Why should it matter to you if he suffers?”

“It just…does. We’ve suffered enough.”

Elias tensed up underneath my hands. That was probably the wrong thing to say. I recalled what Cheadd had told me about how Elias had better reason than anyone to hate sorcerers. As if he would sympathise or care about our suffering. He would only champion it.

“Is that what you think?” Elias sounded on edge.

“You asked me to… tell you the truth. It is what I think. And truthfully, it wouldn’t have mattered whether he was a sorcerer or human. I was only afraid for his punishment and for his mistake. I wanted to prevent him from…receiving one.”

Elias scoffed. “Some people deserve to be punished.”

“And some people don’t. And they frequently get mistaken for one another,” I said, without thinking.

Elias’s eyes shifted ever so slightly to over his shoulder. “Mmmm.”

Back to the ‘mmmh’s’ then.

We rode in silence for another hour or so before we reached Vaden, near the Northern border. Elias dismounted. He turned around and made no effort to help me down.

I looked at the ground warily. He turned to me.

“Do you need help?” Once again, he sounded as if someone was forcing the words out of his mouth.

“Yes,” I admitted. I mentally decided I would learn how to ride a horse tomorrow, so I would never need to go through this again.

He held out his hand, which I avoided touching, placing my hand instead on his bronze wrist cuffs. I could still see crumples from where my fingers had distorted the fabric of his dark red undershirt.

From here, I could lead Elias to the site. This was roughly around where we had teleported and set up camp initially.

“Do you want to see both camps, or the site of the fight, the second?” I asked as soon as I was set on the ground.

“Was there anything left behind at the first?” he inquired.

“No.”

“Then the second.”

I opened my mouth to talk but hesitated.

“Do you always do that?” Elias asked.

“Do…what?”

“Open your mouth for seconds before you actually speak?”

I closed it abruptly. “I…No, it’s just that I’m never sure what I might be permitted to say.”

“Permitted again.” Elias rolled his eyes. “Just say whatever you like.”

I couldn’t help but think that was a lie. I could think of many things I wouldn’t be permitted to say or ask.

Why did you make the waiter drink that beverage?

What happened to make you hate sorcerers so much?

You’re a hypocrite. Some people deserve to be punished, do they? Only if they’re sorcerers? Right?

“Go on.” Elias raised his eyebrows.

I raised my head, trying to appear more confident as I said, “There’s a chance I can teleport us there, but I’ve never tried it before.”

“Then why would you even offer?” He scowled, the corner of his lips turning upwards.

“Because I’m…tired,” I fumbled for an excuse.

“For someone who’s so terrible at lying, you seem to do it a lot.”

I scowled back now.

Elias continued, “I thought I told you to tell me the—"

I cut him off. “Because you’re limping, and I noticed it a while ago. I was going to ask you if you were injured, or what happened, but I doubted you would appreciate it, and we’re going to be walking for a while, so, I thought…I could try.”

Elias was still for a few seconds and then suddenly, he doubled over, placing his hands on his chest, in the same place that I had been holding him minutes ago.

He started laughing. Hysterically. His laugh came out in stuttering low rumbles, then suddenly increased in pitch as he straightened up again, letting out one long sigh.

I peered at him, irritated. He probably mistook my speech for tender concern. It was only a matter of practicality for the both of us.

“You want to know what happened to my leg?” he asked me. “It’s no longer there. That’s because people like you ripped it off, and left me to fucking die, after killing all of the people I was travelling with, right in front of me.” He gestured at the space in front of him.

I understood then what Cheadd had told me.

This explained why he hated sorcerers so much. Why he felt so justified in his hatred. Whether or not he was right or wrong about it wouldn’t matter to him, not with a story like that. It didn’t matter to most people once they had been wronged. I understood it, but I hated it.

I hated even more that I had felt that way, many times before.

“Then…I’ll try to learn for next time,” I said, glancing at the grass.

When I looked back up, Elias was regarding me as if I were some kind of living corpse.

“To teleport,” I clarified. “I’ll try to learn to teleport for next time.”

Elias remained staring at me that way for a few seconds. Then he turned around sharply, shaking himself out of whatever trance he had found himself in. “Don’t. I need you for your navigation skills. Don’t waste time trying to hone others.”

“It wouldn’t be a waste…in fact, maybe we should just bring a Teleporter with us and—"

“No. No to both of those things.”

Why? Why wouldn’t you bring a Teleporter with an injury like yours? You’re a Lord, you could bring ten Teleporters with you if you wished.

I closed my eyes again, shaking my head, and crouched. I touched the ground, tapping into my core. As suspected, the traces of sorcery had been long removed and were non-existent now.

“The traces are gone, as I suspected, but I can remember the way.”

Elias nodded. I stood and began to walk.

We moved this way for around another hour. I could hear Elias struggling to maintain his balance, or traverse more difficult areas of land. As trackers, we had taken the darkest and most hidden paths in pursuit of our target, and they were always trickiest to cross.

But I said nothing, and I didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. He would only laugh in my face once more or force me to walk all the way back to the Palace. If he wanted to prolong his pain, that was his choice. I wasn’t about to sign myself up for anymore on his behalf.

Anyway, apart from a slight limp, he looks completely unaffected.

But…I knew all too well, how masterfully someone could hide pain. As a class four Darean, the drainings had been exhausting for me. Nauseating. Uncomfortable. But not agonising in the way it was for sorcerers of higher classes. When they’d arrived, their wails would bleed through the walkways loud enough to strip you of your senses, and they’d shuffle around after their drainings, wincing, tears in their eyes, doubled over.

And yet, as time went on, most would stop wailing. They’d get up from the drainings and move without grimacing, floating like pale and sullen statues, dull as stone. Their cries became grunts. Their tears dried up.

I guess those who always walk through fire, stop screaming at the burns.

Did they truly grow used to pain like that?

No, not used to it…they just…learnt to live with the searing heat.

Is the Lord Elias like that as well?

I glanced over my shoulder at him quickly. He still appeared unperturbed.

I can’t say. But… I suppose those in the worst agony…never have a tell.

We reached it.

I stopped abruptly and Elias bumped into me.

“What are you—"

He stopped talking himself when he observed the scene before him. All of the bodies were still there. The bodies of the sorcerers had not been removed.

Normally, from what I was aware, when sorcerers from these camps returned to the site of a battle or fight, after removing traces of their energy, they would burn the bodies, or take them away via teleportation.

But not a single one had been taken or burnt.

Elias moved around me to stand by my right.

We both stood in silence for a few minutes.

“Why…Why didn’t they retrieve their dead?” Elias asked, mumbling.

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know.

“They had Elementalists, and Teleporters. I saw,” I said.

“But they didn’t use them,” Elias stated.

“Is this a message?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you know better than me?” Elias said, without glancing in my direction.

“Do you know the motivations behind every human’s actions?” I bit back. I abhorred the generalisation of every sorcerer as power hungry and evil, with a shared consciousness. It was what had created this hatred, this war.

Elias gave me a sidelong glance.

“Then no,” I said, finishing my sentence before I could think to back out of it.

“Weren’t you stuttering over your words only an hour ago? Now you’re speaking to me this way?” Elias didn’t sound angry, or authoritative at all, only confused and slightly curious.

From what I’ve heard, you speak in far worse ways to others.

“You asked me to be honest.” I turned to face him. He repeated my movement.

“Honest. Not familiar.”

Familiar? Is this your idea of familiarity? How… disturbing.

“Check the area,” he instructed. “Alert me if you find anything that looks suspicious or different.” He walked forwards examining the scene himself.

I walked in the direction away from where I knew Ava had died, from where Claus’ body lay on the ground.

There were bodies that had their heads removed, that were lanced with swords and shot with arrows, arrows which rendered their healing ability null. The blood that surrounded them had darkened and dried. Their skin was grey. Maggots were making a feast of their flesh.

It was hard to look at. No, hard wasn’t the word. It was painful. To know it was me who had led the trackers here, and led these people to their deaths, so undignified, so cruel. Guilt curdled in my stomach, festering at my insides. I was rotting slowly from within.

Will I be able to free my brothers… before I become completely decayed?

Like these bodies.

I walked between them, the debris, and the remnants of supplies that also, curiously, had not been retrieved. I had to press the back of my hand to my mouth to stop myself from gagging from the stench, which hung in the stale and unmoving air.

Elias was standing by a cart that had been left behind.

“Tracker,” he called out to me. I crossed the field to him.

I told you my name, didn’t I?

Although, it wasn’t exactly shocking he had decided not to use it. No non-sorcerers ever did.

When’s the last time I heard someone say it? My name…

“What is this?” Elias pulled me from my thoughts. He lifted up a pouch full of stones, each of them glowing, warm and bright with iridescent light. They were a variety of colours from orange, to blue, to violet, to crimson.

“They’re enoliths,” I answered. “They’re stones imbued with sorcery that magic wielders use to communicate with one another. The light indicates the sorcerer from whom the pair of stones originates is still alive, and is in possession of their half. If it’s dull, then the sorcerer is either dead, or no longer possesses their counterpart.”

Elias peered at them curiously. There must have been around twenty of them in the pouch. The majority of them were alight.

Despite the fact my affinity for sorcery was poor, my abilities had emerged fairly early, and since my father had also been a sorcerer, he had taught me much about sorcery, magical artefacts, objects, spells, and classes. Enoliths were said to have come from an underwater cavern deep within the Ocean by Jurasa’s lands, gifted by Sirens to a sorcerer.

The Sirens. A gift. Right…

But like all good myths, it was captivating in its possibility. Better to think those Sirens were our allies, than they’d beckon us to break our bones.

My father would in all likelihood, just as my brothers did, despise me for ‘allying’ with this red-haired Lord now, and sharing information he had passed down to me with him.

I’m doing it to save them. I have to. I have to take care of them. The way you used to take care of us, for a time. Until you couldn’t anymore. Until you stopped. Until you retreated into yourself, grew more distant, little by little, then left us alone. Where are you now? You disappeared one day and never came back. Some of them said you’d gone somewhere quiet to die. Some of them said you’d been taken. Some of them said you’d run. You never even said goodbye. So how could you judge me for this?

“Can they be traced with these stones?” Elias asked, once again, anchoring me to the present.

I shook my head. “I’ve never heard of that happening.”

“But if you could…if someone could, theoretically, it would be a Navigator, wouldn’t it?” Elias dumped the pouch back down and turned around, leaning against the cart.

“Theoretically.” nodded. “Or a Sense Transformer. They sense the core and energy of others far more powerfully, as in…” I searched for the right words to explain. “Navigators can traverse difficult land, and track things, including sorcerers down, but only because we can sense the echoes that sorcery has left in the earth, wherever it has crossed it. But we can’t usually track down specific individuals, or specific energy. Sense transformers cannot find sorcerers or track them down, but… when they are in any sorcerer’s close proximity, they can read their individual core, and tell immediately what class, abilities, and level of affinity for sorcery that individual has."

Elias looked slightly bewildered, but also nodded. “So, are you saying that it’s possible or not?”

“I’m saying… it’s unlikely, and it would be more likely to work if both a Navigator and a Sense Transformer were attempting this together. But even then, enoliths are powerful, and it’s possible they’re beyond such…things.”

“But if it can be done, we can find these people and through them, find out where the others are…and put an end to this.”

An end to this? I squinted. We?

“You disagree,” he told me. It wasn’t a question, he could simply tell.

I saw no reason to lie. “This was just one group, and they were very powerful. Even if by some small chance we found some of the owners of those enoliths, there’s no guarantee they’d tell us anything, and…well… even if they did, there’s no guarantee we’d find the group, or that if we did find them…we would succeed in taking them down, or that there wouldn’t be survivors who would retaliate and join another group out there in existence to do so…and ….so on.” I gestured with my hands to indicate there were an infinite number of flaws to his statement.

“Fuck,” Elias said.

His response took me by surprise, not because he’d cursed, but because he’d done so in front of me.

“Did you see anything unusual?” he asked.

“No.”

“I did.” He motioned for me to follow him.

As we moved further and further away from the cart, my breath caught in my throat. My hands began to turn sticky with sweat, my limbs laden with the weight of dread.

We were moving closer and closer to that place.

Until we were right there.

Standing over Claus’ body.

“This one.” Elias pointed at him.

He didn’t need to explain. Whereas everyone else’s body was pale, mottled, and bloated, Claus’ was black, and dark red in places. His skin looked dry, like it was stretched over his skeleton. He looked as if he had been thrown into the very depths of evil and resurfaced on this grass.

My body shook slightly. I swallowed, loudly. I had seen far too many dead bodies in the space of a few weeks.

Elias looked at me. “Do you have any ideas?”

“I…he’s…”

But it was impossible, it couldn’t be.

“Back to stuttering again,” Elias groaned.

I got on the ground, and somehow found the will to crawl forwards towards the body. If I was right…

I reached out a shaking hand towards his forehead.

“What are you doing?” Elias demanded.

I didn’t answer him. I used one finger to lift the still intact hair from it.

On it, a dark red insignia bore deep into his skull.

I drew in a sharp breath.

“What the fuck?” Elias said, quickly moving closer. “What is that?”

“It’s…the mark of possession.”

“What does that mean?” Elias sounded impatient.

The talisman around his neck. How hadn’t I thought about this before? How hadn’t I realised.

The mark had similarities, distant ones, but undeniable similarities to the one on his skin.

It had been holding his form, holding the illusion, and I took it off.

“Shadae?”

I blinked and turned over to look at him, surprised he had used my name. He was crouched on the other side of the body now, looking at me, waiting.

I pointed at Claus' forehead. “This man has been dead for a long time. Someone else…someone else was in possession of his body. That’s wh…” my mouth was dry. “That’s what this mark is.”

“Who could do that?”

“A Necromancer,” I told him.

“Accipereans,” Elias muttered.

“Yes, Accipereans, class one. The only ability that is,” I told him.

“These sorcerers…can possess a person? But this man is dead…does that mean—"

“No. Necromancers usually take control of recently deceased corpses, using these…marks to create the illusion of life and…undecayed flesh. They can also summon the dead from…the…afterlife,” I wasn’t sure what to call it, “to possess such corpses on their behalf, or do their bidding. Possessing the living is almost unheard of, it's harder to do. Either way, the mark on the shell is different, depending on the soul possessing it, unlike the marks for other curses, which remain the same, no matter who bears them,” I answered.

“So the…original…owner"—Elias grimaced at his own description— “of this body is dead. The Necromancer isn’t.”

I nodded. “That’s what I’d conclude, but I don’t understand…”

“What?” Elias said.

“How I managed to…expel it?” I shook my head, my gaze darting around.

“You killed him? You killed…this thing?” Elias sounded shocked.

“Yes. But normally, the body of a possessed corpse is far stronger than a normal one, especially if that corpse belonged to a sorcerer. Even the arrows we use wouldn’t have been enough to injure them.”

“I see,” Elias said. “They feigned death in this body.”

“Meaning the sorcerers this person was with didn’t know about his identity either,” I stated.

We looked at each other. Elias looked troubled.

“So, they let themselves die. They left this body. Where could they have gone?” Elias asked me.

How did you expect me to know that?

“They would have to find another shell,” I explained.

“Another corpse?”

“Or…not. It is rare, but they could possess the living, if they were powerful enough. If that’s the case then this person would have marked some people ahead of time, probably without them realising, leaving them with the option to jump from one body to the next when necessary.”

“So… they could be anywhere,” Elias sounded exasperated.

“Yes. They could be anyone.”

“How can someone check for these marks?”

“I don’t know…I don’t know enough about it.”

Elias grunted in frustration. “The question is…what is this person’s agenda? If they weren’t working with these sorcerers, why? Were they working against them? And if so for…” Elias stopped himself, as he noticed me watching him, paying attention.

“This isn’t meant for your ears.” He sounded irritated.

My face fell. “You’ve already started speaking.”

“Then pretend you didn’t hear anything,” he stood.

I stood too. “That would be lying, wouldn’t it?”

“Very clever.” He gave me a false smile. “Your task is to help me navigate and answer my questions, that’s it.”

“But you have more questions. Maybe I could help you with those.”

“You’re very keen to help me all of a sudden.”

I gulped and glanced at Claus…at what was once Claus’ body. “Whatever was inside this thing, killed my friend, the one who, the one…I was retrieving the body of when you found me at the gates of the draining centre. I want to find out what it is…who. I want to help you find them. I can navigate but I can do more than that too.” I looked at him resolutely, my fists clenched as I lied.

I did want to know. But not for justice’s sake. Not truly.

If I help Elias, then maybe…freeing my brothers will be easier…if I get him to trust me…

And Cheadd, he thought I’d brought Ava’s soul some kind of peace by killing Claus, by ending her killer, but I hadn’t. And I was only pursuing her killer selfishly.

It’s not my right to withhold this information from him…is it?

But I couldn’t bring myself to shatter whatever fragile closure was keeping the Commander together.

Or perhaps, whatever delicate illusions were keeping me from unravelling apart.

“I don’t need you to do more than that,” Elias said. “I don’t need you to teleport or think. I need you to navigate and answer my questions. That’s it. I will deal with the rest.”

“I need to think to answer questions.”

Elias huffed. “It’s a shame you don’t before you speak.”

“I don’t expect anything in return. I just want to know who did this myself.”

“What a fucking pity.” He threw his hands into the air. “You see I’d actually prepared a variety of gifts and favours to shower you with for doing all the things I’ve clearly asked you to refrain from doing.”

I sighed and glared at him, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

“What about riding?”

“What?” Elias asked.

“Shouldn’t I learn to ride a horse? That way you won’t have to bear the horror that is my touch each time we work together?”

Elias appeared to be a mixture of stunned, irritated, and lost.

“You don’t want a Teleporter, and you don’t want me to ride with you. So, I should learn to ride a horse, shouldn’t I?”

Elias let out a long sigh. “I thought learning to ride a horse was self-explanatory.”

“I wouldn’t want to presume.”

“Presume to learn the most basic skill you will need in order to do as I ask?”

“Isn’t thinking the most basic skill needed to do—"

“Enough, tracker.”

Elias came around the other side of the body so that he was standing in front of me. “Unfortunately for the both of us, you seem to be the most proficient Navigator the trackers have, but my patience for your antics is not everlasting.”

I looked down. I had probably already pushed him further than was intelligent to do so.

“Let me try and trace them,” I murmured, looking at the body.

“What?” Elias was still looking directly at me.

“I can try and find out where the…possessor went, at least until they found their new body. They wouldn’t have been able to return to conceal their energy, and whoever returned to conceal the others may not have been able to do so for theirs, since the energy of a possessor is different…they wouldn’t have expected it to be amongst the energies here. It might not work but—"

Elias nodded. “Do it. Try.”

“Will I be showered with some gifts?” I said, smiling sarcastically.

Elias didn’t appreciate the joke. “You’ll get the privilege of riding back with me rather than walking.”

I snorted. “The privilege,” I muttered under my breath. “The privilege that makes you shudder in disgust.”

“I didn’t say it was a privilege for me,” Elias groaned.

I crouched beside the body once more.

I hadn’t stopped shaking. My mouth still felt barren, and the smell drifting through the humid air was making my stomach turn, but I approached the corpse, and closed my eyes.

That was until, a piercing, unbearable, agonising pain shot through my skull.

And I started screaming.