Page 61 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 61- ELIEL

T he early morning sun from the stained-glass windows cast the Jurasan King’s cloak in a variety of colours.

We had met after all, in a shrine.

Meeting in the Palace was too dangerous and something the King would not have agreed to. Elementas shrines were in several places throughout Iloris, often dedicated to each one of the Gods. This one was dedicated to the God of Thunder - Tundros, but owing to his lack of popularity in Vasara, his shrine was small. It was the Patron Gods of Vasara, Furos and Terros, who were subjects of the largest shrines here. The smaller ones were often deserted, especially this early in the day, when the darkness of the night had only just melted into a sunrise.

“Your Majesty,” the Jurasan King said, withdrawing his hood.

I had never seen this man before. It was said very few had. Elias, who was sitting next to me, sucked in a breath as his face was exposed. He made eye contact with me and raised his eyebrows. In this light, in this setting, with his appearance, the Jurasan could rival any statue of the Nine Gods, including the one of Tundros behind him. His ash blonde hair was so long, it skimmed the edge of the table, despite his towering height.

“Your Majesty,” I replied, smiling.

It would have been customary for the Jurasan King to bow, since while he too was a King, Vasara was still the ruling Kingdom. But he remained straightened, showing no signs he would perform such an action.

“Please, sit.” With one finger, I gestured to the chair at the opposite end of the table.

The Jurasan King used his left hand to draw back the chair. He flicked his cloak up from behind him, which was a dark green velvet, and sat down.

The rest of his outfit was a similar colour, although it was mostly hidden. The stark contrast of the dark clothing to his hair was striking. After seeing this man once, it would be easy to identify him once more. Even in attempting to describe him, only few details would be needed, since all of his features were unique.

It was hard not to ponder on the significance of the fact he’d managed to hide the details of his appearance for so long.

I rested my hand on the table, my fingertips poised on the wood.

“You’ve shown us your face.” I needed to understand.

“I would prefer to do so, rather than wait for your inevitable attempts to discover its appearance.”

Elias scoffed. The Jurasan King ignored him.

“I would not be the first to try,” I pointed out. “Yet you do not reveal your face to the other curious parties.”

“The other curious parties have no chance at success,” the King responded. He clasped his hands, lacing his fingers over each other. “I am sure I can count on your discretion.” He looked at Elias, “And yours.”

“Of course,” I confirmed. “I am grateful for your trust.”

The King smiled. Seeing his face fully, and seeing it with this expression, it was hard not to feel a sense of wonder. This man had only ever been spoken of as an entity, a force, someone people admired, respected, and feared. A man loved by his people. A sort of divinity surrounded his existence, a reverence.

And yet, his smile made him appear youthful, carefree, as if no such burdens plagued him. Only it was accompanied by the words, “I hope that is reciprocated.”

He was smiling, his words were polite, but behind them, a warning was clear.

Elias leant forwards with one arm on the table. “How did you get out of there?” he asked.

He was speaking of Liquanon, the attack.

The Jurasan King’s gaze shifted towards him, glinting in the sunlight. “When you are able to answer that question… then I shall answer that question.”

Elias squinted and tilted his head in an expression that said, Really?

The King, who had clearly felt that matter was dealt with, looked back at me. “You summoned me.”

“I did.” I nodded. “You will have heard of the attack on one of the candidates by now.”

“It would be difficult not to hear of it. I am assuming that was your intention.” He sounded disapproving.

“A sorcerer has not once infiltrated this Palace, not since the war,” I stated.

“I am aware,” he replied.

“Then I am sure you will agree, that in light of the situation, the need to deal with these groups has starkly increased.”

“With all due respect Your Majesty, the act of a lone sorcerer cannot be immediately connected to a whole group.”

“That is why dealing with them all is the best option,” I asserted, lowering my head, placing my palm flat on the table.

“War… is never the best option.” The King sounded disdainful, but relaxed at the same time, as if he were sharing an opinion about a meal he disliked. “Once you make efforts to eradicate these groups, and I am sure that with your resources, you will undoubtedly succeed, you will only incite the sorcerers remaining to attack. Would it not be better to investigate this matter first?”

“It’s too late for that,” Elias said from the side. He sounded dismayed. “Once that announcement was made—"

I interrupted Elias, “It would be foolish to wait for the sorcerers’ actions to grow more dangerous. Investigating would only give them the time and opportunity to become so.”

The Jurasan King didn’t reply, but he looked disappointed. Still, I did not need his full approval, as long as I could persuade him helping me was in his interests, that would suffice.

“Elias,” I said.

Elias spoke up. “The sorcerer who was here used teleportation. You may or may not be aware of this, but teleportation, although employed by sorcerers of a lower class, gives off a large surge of energy, and Navigators can, with time and focus, trace their coordinates.”

“Yes,” the Jurasan King replied bluntly, “I was aware.”

“The teleportation coordinates were within Jurasa, meaning that the sorcerer teleported to and from your Kingdom,” Elias reached the point.

I added more, leaning forwards. “This is the second time sorcerers who have proven themselves to be dangerous were found to have been based in Jurasa.”

“There have been countless sorcerer bases over the past decades, all over Athlion, so what is the relevance of this information?” The defensive tone in his voice did not escape me.

“The relevance is that now, such sorcerers have managed to infiltrate these walls. Once just days ago, and once before that"— I paused and ground my teeth slightly— “when my parents were murdered.”

The King's eyelids fluttered. “Yes. I heard of that as well.”

“Then you understand my concern.”

“Understand, yes. Agree with, no.”

“Is it—"

But the King interrupted me, Elias frowned as he did.

“Being the King of Jurasa does not make me able to survey every inch of its soil, nor does it make me responsible for those who come and go, crossing its borders freely.”

“But, if not you, then who do you propose should take responsibility in apprehending and detaining these sorcerers? They are after all, residing in your Kingdom, Your Majesty,” I asked.

The Jurasan King sneered silently, through his eyes. “Residing, are they? So, the Navigators tracked them to their precise location?”

It was not for nothing, I could begin to see, that this man had become a King of great renown, when he was but a child.

He continued, “And since when were Vasara’s trackers restricted by the borders of different Kingdoms? Those borders haven’t stopped them taking that responsibility upon themselves in the past.”

Elias shifted in his seat.

“I cannot ignore this coincidence, Your Majesty,” I addressed him.

“And I am not ignoring it either. Since our last conversation I have, as you requested, been surveying my Kingdom more thoroughly for any sign of sorcerers. As the Lord just stated, teleportation would be difficult to miss.”

“Are you saying our trackers have been misinforming us?” Elias asked, sounding half-interested, half-frustrated at the implication.

The King looked at him calmly. “Or that they have been fooled. All I can say is that there have been no such signs of sorcerers in Jurasa.”

“Could it not have been you, that was fooled, Your Majesty?” I put it to him.

The King didn’t seem convinced of that possibility at all. “If that is the case, then I fail to see how I can assist you any further.”

Such reluctance to cooperate. Such abrasiveness in his furrowed brow.

“Then please. Let me enlighten you,” I began. “Allow the trackers to take up residence in your Castle. Allow them to operate from within your quarters and conduct their duties from there, for a short time.”

“No,” the King replied. He said it without force, easily, as if he were refusing a drink. He clearly did not deem an explanation necessary.

I had expected this refusal, since there was much secrecy surrounding not only the King’s appearance, but also his home. Nevertheless, I pressed on.

“Then another residence near your location. Give them somewhere to work from.”

The Jurasan King tapped his index finger on the wooden table four times.

He stopped. “That can be arranged.”

“And you will allow them to examine your draining centres since—"

“That. Cannot.” The Jurasan King enunciated each word.

I coughed slightly before speaking again, shifting the shoulder of my still healing left arm. “If it is indeed your Kingdom these sorcerers are originating from, it may be the case that those in your draining centres are aware of their movements, perhaps even some of the members of these groups.”

The King clasped his hands together again, leaning forwards, so that his forearms were pressed into the table. “You wish to enter my home. You wish to examine my draining centres. Your Majesty, if you suspect me, then why not simply say so?”

I leant back in my chair. “Because I do not suspect you.”

The King breathed out loudly through his nose in a half chuckle. “Then you will not be so aggrieved at my denial of this particular request. Our draining centres are not to be tampered with. They are operating under strict guidance. I will not have your trackers interfere with that.”

A thought struck me. “Could it be…that you lack Vessels?”

The Jurasan King frowned as if he did not understand my question. “Doesn’t everyone?”

It was not surprising that the King was aware of this information, as was I, as any ruler of the Kingdoms would be. But Elias turned between the King and I, confused.

“Everyone?” Elias whispered to me.

The Jurasan King heard but ignored him. “You will understand then that such an interference and delay is not possible.”

“Our trackers can easily ask questions without interrupting the drainings,” I argued.

“Since I do not have proof that is the case, they will be asking no questions at all.” He was insistent, but not aggressive.

“By not asking your Vessels such questions, we may be missing a vital piece of information,” I stated.

“Then I will ask them myself.”

Elias and I looked at each other. Imagining that this King would interrogate his own Vessels seemed preposterous.

Then again, I had recently done the same.

“Please. Do that,” I spoke. “I will be most intrigued to find out what you have discovered. Perhaps while you are asking, you can make inquiries about Lord Beckett.”

The Jurasan King straightened slightly “Why would I do that?”

“Your sister’s escort has been missing for over a week,” I informed him.

The Jurasan King blinked hard and stared at the table. His eyes moved to the side, he frowned, clearly puzzled.

Elias watched him warily.

The King’s eyes returned to mine. “Why was I not alerted previously? The Princess’ security is dependent on his presence.”

“I would gladly have alerted you, however, the Princess herself did not report his absence initially. She stated she believed his absence was only temporary and that he would soon return. But given how ardently Lord Beckett stayed by your sister’s side, that possibility, even to me, would have seemed unlikely.”

Elias cleared his throat and looked up at me from his brows. His gaze seemed to be warning me not to aggravate the King too much on this matter. He was clearly wary of this man, as he had been the first time we had crossed his paths.

“You may send another escort in his stead. I am sure you are keen to be sure of her security, after this recent attack. Even if your sister is only here for appearance’s sake, it is only you, I, and Lord Elias who are aware of that.”

“Has there been a search?” the King questioned.

“Yes, and he is nowhere to be found. Nobody has seen him. If you wish, you may speak to your sister and—"

“No,” the King interjected. “I cannot stay for long.”

I peered at the statue of Tundros over the King’s shoulder. “Do you believe in the Gods, Your Majesty?”

“Of course,” he replied.

It was hard to tell whether his response was genuine.

“Then I will pray for you, that you succeed in this endeavour.”

The Jurasan King looked directly at me. The light from the stained-glass window coloured his ash blonde hair rust and maple red. “Would a prayer from a man of no faith truly work?”

Elias stiffened up. I smiled, meaningfully. It was surprising the King could deduce information so well, it was almost refreshing to be in his company, to be around someone with a like mind.

“Who knows? One can only try.”

“Spare yourself the effort,” the King said, bluntly, but neutrally. He had an interesting way of making everything he said sound authoritative without sounding judgemental.

The King’s attention was drawn to Elias. “What are your thoughts?”

Elias was visibly startled at being asked so openly. “About what, Your Majesty?”

“About a war.”

Elias stopped breathing for an instant. My eyes were fixed upon the King. If he was trying to sow discord between us, then it was a futile attempt. I already knew Elias disapproved of war, but he disapproved of sorcery even more.

“I think the King is—" Elias started.

“I am not asking His Majesty, I am already aware of his opinion, and his is not the only one that matters. I am asking for yours.”

“Right,” Elias said gruffly. He side-eyed me before answering. “I don’t want war, but it seems inevitable, doesn’t it?”

“Is that what you think?”

“I just said…” Elias stopped, and cleared his throat, likely remembering who he was speaking to. “Yes, that is what I think.”

The King’s eyes flitted between both of us quickly. “Your father did not want a war,” he said to me.

Elias intervened. “His father was—"

The King spoke over him. “He instigated the last one. He was heavily involved in it. But there was a reason, that despite these groups you mention, he never declared a full-out war again. There was a reason he only ever dealt with the groups when the need arose. Did he not discuss it with you?”

I looked down at the wooden table. My father had discussed little with me.

“I know my father’s attitude towards sorcerers was…complex.”

“He was afraid of them,” the King said.

“Fear is never a good reason to make a choice,” I rebuked.

“Unless it is founded. People speak of fear as if it is a sin, a weakness.” The King looked almost despaired as he spoke. “But some things are worth fearing. Some people are worth being careful of.”

I sat up straighter. “If we remain only in fear of the sorcerers, they will one day, very soon, exploit that fear. They will drag our world from the ground by its roots.”

“Your father knew that to survive, to win the last war, was nothing short of a miracle, and that it had only been because the sorcerers had not expected such a campaign. This time, they are ready, and if you strike first, they will strike back with a force we may not survive,” the King was speaking quickly, but clearly.

“If they strike first? Have they not already done so?” I put to him.

“The Lord could tell you, that what they have done so far, is nothing near close to what they are capable of.” The ominous tone in the King’s voice was overwhelming. His speech was intended to deter me from my course, but if anything, it only made me surer of it.

“Perhaps you are right,” he continued, “And they are planning something, but if you strike first, you eliminate any possibility of solving this peacefully.”

Elias laughed. It was hard for me not to do the same. The King looked at him unimpressed.

“Your Majesty… that time has long since passed,” I said softly.

The King shook his head, dismayed. “If you should pray for anything, you should pray for this…that if this war you are so desperate for begins, you will be killed early in its course—"

Elias’s eyes glimmered with rage. “You dare—"

“Because if you are not,” the King spoke over him, “You will watch as your mistakes manifest as destruction and death, and they will make you watch.”

I lowered my head and my voice. “I am not perfect, nor am I unflawed, but I know this will not be a mistake.”

The King clearly disagreed but changed the topic, asking. “The candidate? Is she alive?”

“Just.” I thought of the Kalnasan girl lying on her bed, frail and feeble, and felt a pang of dread, anticipation.

The King nodded. “One sorcerer, one attack, discreet and quiet, and the girl is left clinging to life. Imagine hundreds, using the full force of their abilities against us. You believe you are protecting your people, but you are only dooming them to the fate of this girl, or a fate far worse.”

“Thank you…for sharing your opinion, Your Majesty.”

“False gratitude is not necessary. I do not share it for your thanks. I share it so that on the day you realise you made this mistake, you will remember this conversation, and that if fate is kind to you, you will live to never forget it.” His voice was sharper now.

The King stood. “I will send another escort here within the next few days. If the Princess is harmed in the meantime, then our arrangement is void.”

“She will not be harmed,” I assured him.

“That, I am sure, is what you told King Dunlan about his niece.”

His attitude had become significantly more hostile over the past few minutes.

“It’s hardly as if he’d tell the candidates otherwise. Each one knows the position carries risks,” Elias defended me.

The King looked at Elias regretfully. “You’re right, of course, it is only a shame that the promise of their safety cannot be guaranteed.”

“That is the sorcerers' doing, not his,” Elias snapped.

“Is it?” the King asked, not expecting an answer. “How far back does the chain of cause and effect go?”

“You’re overcomplicating things, Your Majesty.” Elias sounded frustrated.

“Oversimplifying them is for people who do not wish to face difficult truths.”

Elias opened his mouth again, but before he could refute that point, I spoke, “Which difficult truth do you refer to?”

The King raised his hood, preparing to leave. “That we are no different from them. We are fighting for this world. We are fighting to live. Somewhere along the passage of time, we decided it was impossible for both humans and sorcerers to do so, and ever since then, every act by either side has been fuelled by that same motivation. It is easier to vilify the sorcerers when they possess certain abilities, and easier to victimise ourselves when we do not. But who is the true evil and who is the true victim?”

The question hung in the air as the King finished by saying, “The difficult truth is we are each both, and we are no more deserving of this world than they are.”

Elias frowned thoughtfully.

“You certainly have sympathies for their cause.” I tilted my head.

“Not sympathies, only the ability to see the obvious similarities, and the ability to admit it to myself,” the King corrected me.

Elias was quiet, still, thoughtful.

“I can admit the similarities, but I have no need or time to appreciate them. What good will that do?” I asked, casually.

The King smiled tightly, not truly.

“How well you manage to summarise, the very core of the issue,” he said bitterly.

He turned and strode out of the door.

As soon as the door had closed, Elias turned to me. “There’s a shortage of Vessels?”

“You cannot speak of that to anyone.”

Elias waved his hand. “I know that.”

“Not even when you’re drunk.”

Elias raised a brow. “Right… because I thought that rule didn’t apply when I was drunk.”

“It would be best if you did not drink in public at all.”

“I don’t…” Elias sounded defensive. “I don’t drink in public…most of the time.”

I looked at him concerned. As if he had realised what he had said, he shrugged, crossed his arms, and added, “It tastes better alone.”

I continued to look at him worriedly. “You should truly…try to…”

I found myself surprised. It was the first time in a long while I was lamenting over my own words, unsure of what to say.

“I am trying,” Elias’ voice cracked a little. “I am.”

I nodded. “I am glad.”

Then wiping the small smile off my face, I said firmly. “If anyone hears of that information, there will be mass panic.”

“How long has there been a shortage?”

“Nearly a decade.”

“A fucking decade?!” Elias raised his voice. I turned to him slowly.

He calmed down instantly and suddenly seemed in deep thought.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

But he scratched his stubble with the back of his hand, something he only ever did when he was troubled.

“No, it isn’t,” I observed.

Elias ignored my probing and asked. “How is it being dealt with?”

I peered at him. He seemed consumed in his own thoughts, too preoccupied to notice my inquisitive gaze. What lingered through his mind?

After a few moments, during which my gaze was not returned, I sighed. “As of now, it isn’t. We simply have to find more to drain, that is all. Mostly that is easy enough.”

“But this …war"— he gulped —"you’re so sure is coming, won’t it wipe them all out?”

“I do not plan to wipe them out at all.”

Elias frowned. “Then what are you planning?”

“You’re working with a tracker, aren’t you?” I asked, evading his question.

“Yes but—"

“Bring her to the festival, there’s someone I need her to meet.”