37. Caspyn
Chapter 37
Lyani had gone right to Ryndle when we had returned, both of them staring as they talked from the other side of the camp. I only looked at them once before I returned to the small stained tent, fingers flexing and aching to rip the practically useless thing to shreds and be done with this place.
I didn’t much care what Lyani and Ryndle had to say, they could talk and gossip all they wanted. I had spent too many years working to stop the Queen before the Red Wave. I was not selfish. If she couldn’t see that then…
“Gah!” I growled and pulled the edge of the tent, shoving it to the ground. Why did I care what she saw of me? Why did I care what she thought of me?
Why did I even care?
She was a Lighten. She believed in Goddesses and Sisters and some voodoo about the magic of Okivo. She knew nothing of magic.
I didn’t care what she thought of magic.
Once we were on the road, I would force Ryndle to tell me where my blades were, and then I would be on my way.
Rolling the tent carelessly, I bunched it up and stormed past a group of children who were prancing through the now cleared field and threw the bundle of canvas in the back of the wagon with all the others, the piles of dirty canvas growing as other Lightens came behind me, laughing and singing as they packed up their campsites, all of them piling their tents and bed rolls in a huge tower in the back of the storage wagon.
The wagon that was always full of canvas and supplies, all of it piled high and heavy. Even when everyone’s tent was pitched in the evening there were always extras, old folds of canvas and wool blankets that were either left behind from Lightens who had grown some sense and left this endless march, or for people like me that were trapped there.
Piles of canvas. Tools, boxes of dry goods and supplies. All of it covering everything.
Covering the floor.
It was the perfect place to hide something that you didn’t want found.
I stood there, horses nickering as they were bridled, the laughter of children echoing over everything as more and more tents were placed on the pile before I turned toward where Ryndle and Lyani were talking, crowded together as the bustle of the camp parted around them. Now they were looking at me. Lyani looked worried; her hands fisted in her worn skirts. Ryndle, however, stood smiling with a knowing grin that left my fingers aching to wipe it from him.
I contemplated tearing the canvas from the pile to see if my knives were really there, or simply storming over there to demand their return. I didn’t get a chance to make my decision before the screaming started.
Sounds of fear and panic echoed through the camp, the screaming of horses and sheep mixed with the calls of children and adults as what looked to be close to fifty men poured in between the wagons, all of them armed with rusted and worn swords and daggers drawn as they sliced at any Lighten who crossed their way.
The world slowed down as they cut through those who had been packing the food wagons, blood splattering over the ground as the unarmed Lightens fell one after another.
“Caspyn!” I turned at my name, Lyani screaming as she ran, hair and skirts flying. “Caspyn! You have to do something!”
“Do what?” I howled, even though I knew. I knew what I needed to do. I knew what I had promised her back at the river town.
Even if it meant there would be no hiding what I was anymore.
“Fight them!” Lyani screamed as she reached me, her hands firm as she pressed me against the wagon, the sounds of screams nearly on top of us now. “You fix it. I don’t care how. Save them.”
She wasn’t crying. There wasn’t even a touch of fear, only the look of pain and anger that I had seen when she had accused me of being selfish, when she had predicted that this would happen. Because of me, because of what I had done.
Because of my selfish need to win and show off my control.
Fuck. She was right.
“Lyani! Caspyn!” Together we turned at the shout, the voice filled with fear as Ziah yelled for help, even as he faced a man twice his size.
He lifted his arms, trying to be the warrior that he so wanted to be. He fought, even as the Lightens around him fell with gasps of death, the scent of their blood adding to the drench that was everywhere now.
The man Ziah was trying so hard to fight lifted his sword, the boy could not move fast enough to dodge it. There was no way he could survive.
“Tell me where my weapons are,” I snarled, already rushing to Ziah’s side.
“I don’t know, but I’ll find them. You stop this and I’ll find them,” that time she seemed scared, her feet not as fast as my own as I raced toward the man, my hand wrapping around his bare forearm before he could bring the sword down upon the boy.
“You really don’t want to be doing that,” I snarled, facing the attacker as I let my magic pool and swell, my skin dipping to ice as my eyes did. The man turned to me in fear, the shock on his eyes clear as he recognized me from the tavern, and I him.
My chest swelled at the coming blood, at the darkness inside of me that swelled in anticipation of what was to come.
Goddess. I had missed this.
“I do. For the shame you brought to us I do,” he said and I grinned, watching him wince as my magic flooded him and I tasted that delicious sweet and salt of his life pouring into me.
“Tell me, what color are my eyes?” His eyes widened as he looked, the last of that deep blue shade fading and leaving me with eyes like ice. Ice that I was sure he felt everywhere now.
“Death,” was all he said before my magic tugged, pulling at his life as though it was the only food I had had in an age. In many ways it was, it had been so long since I had taken life. Since I had moved through time.
It was delicious.
His body wrinkled and shriveled as I took everything from him. He cracked and drifted away into nothing but a wall of ash.
Ziah looked at me with something near horror from where he had crouched on the dirt, Lyani encircling him protectively. What I had thought was fear on their face quickly turned to awe.
“You are the light bringer,” Ziah gasped. The boy almost looked like he was about to cry.
“Don’t call me that,” I snarled as I pulled at my stolen time, everything shifting and drifting into shadows as I moved back through time. The slaughtering villagers moved in reverse, Lyani and I running back to the wagon where the tents were being placed.
I walked back slowly, plotting out how to end them all before the battle could even begin. I wouldn’t have time to get my blades, so I needed to be strategic. I followed myself, expecting the shimmer and shift as I rejoined time.
When I reached the wagon, however, the shadows of myself and Lyani had gone.
My heart lumped in my throat as I stared at the change, assuming myself to have lost control of time and ended up in a time that was not my own. I could still feel the man's life thrumming against my magic, however, I hadn’t used it all. I had only used enough to pull me back to this point.
Yet, everything was different.
The wagon still stood where it had moments before; but instead of being piled with tents, they had all been placed to the side, leaving the floor to the wagon bare and a small door in the bottom, open.
There, glistening in the morning light were my blades. Cleaned, polished, waiting.
I turned as time caught up to me, leaving me standing beside the wagon. People still laughed and chattered as they packed camp, the same children played near a far wagon, the same horse whinnied.
Everything was the same, yet the wagon… the tents…
“How in the–”
This couldn’t be. Nothing had ever changed. Not like this.
Heart still in my throat, I turned, staring past the dancing children to Ryndle and Lyani who still stood on the opposite side of the clearing. There was no anger on Lyani’s face this time, even Ryndle’s smile had faded. They both stared with a firm conviction, their gaze near awe as Ryndle nodded once, his jaw tight.
He didn’t break eye contact, even as the screams began.
It was the same sounds as before, the screams of panic and death ringing over everything as I stood there, blades in hand, staring at the leader of Lightens who was focused only on me.
Waiting.
“Caspyn!” Lyani yelled with that same panic as before, her skirts flying as she ran to me, the sharp pierce of her scream pulling me out of my trance. “You said you would fix this if I found them!”
I could only stare at her, my heart pounding in my chest at what she said. She remembered the time before my jump. She shouldn’t remember, how could she remember?
They never remembered, no one ever remembered.
What in the name of the Goddess was happening?
“Caspyn!” She screamed again, her panic clear even as she turned toward the man who was rushing her, her hands already out in an attempt to fight. Ziah was only steps from her, preparing to fight, but this time with a different man.
No. No more death. I couldn’t let anyone else die. I would solve whatever fuckery was unraveling around me later.
That darkness sprang to life, my eagerness for battle gripping me as I let that twisted side of me take control. My magic flared as I moved myself back through time enough that I bridged my run from one place to another, using the power to move seamlessly.
I reached Lyani’s attacker before he reached her, my blade slicing through the air as I slid it over his neck, blood pouring and flooding down his chest as he gagged. I let him fall, letting the power of ice fall from my skin as I brought forth the flame, the raging heat flooding everywhere. I turned to Lyani, whipping my blade on those useless cotton trousers without even looking.
“Get the children out of here,” my voice was hollow as I looked at her, her eyes widening.
“Caspyn. Your eyes…” she lifted her hands as though she would touch me, but I turned, shying away from the touch lest she get burned.
“I know,” I said with a snarl, turning toward where Ziah was facing yet another of the men, the boy ready to lunge himself at his attacker, the same way I had so many years ago.
He was strong, but he didn’t need to be.
No boy needed to fight like that.
No boy needed to lose so much.
I lifted my hand, letting the flame rip from me, right into the man that had been one swing away from ending the boy. Like hell if I would let him.
“Take Ziah. Go.” I ran toward the screams, toward the men that were swinging and screaming and slaughtering the Lightens who didn’t have so much as a sword between them.
Pulling at my magic, my hand waved over the ground as I ran, pulling every pebble and rock from their resting place and sending them into the crowd of screaming murderous men.
The tiny weapons rushed away from me, embedding themselves in skulls and arms and sending more than one screaming in agony. It was those I targeted first. Pushing the Lightens to the side I swung my blade, slicing through flesh and against bone as I sent one after another to the ground.
These men were not fighters, they knew nothing of battle, they were angry and fueled by hatred. They slashed the air as though it was wheat needing reaped, their faces contorted with a rage turned panic as I turned my blades on them and with an easy block and a quick slice they were down, the screams shifting from the frightened Lightens to the men whose blood sprayed in ribbons of red all around me.
The warm wet blood drenched my arms, it soaked into the white cotton of my shirt, it was everywhere as I fought my way through the villagers who had come to seek retribution for what I had done.
Kicking one man away, I turned on the other, freezing with my blades outstretched as I recognized him as the barkeep from the village, the rotund man holding what looked to be a butcher knife out. It was coated in blood.
Purple blood.
Fae blood.
What the hell?
Even in my panic at the Fae blood that dripped from his blade, that coated the ground, I kept my knives outstretched, my magic still pulled tight against my skin, ready to plunge him into the soil lest he made an unwanted move.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” I taunted, flipping one blade even as I plunged the other one toward him in a threat. I wanted to slice him from head to toe for what he had done, for what he had brought to these people.
These peaceful people.
He was wrong about them, just as I had been.
He darted back, his eyes drifting one way than another as he realized he was the last one there, all of his companions had fled.
“I… I have…” he stuttered, that same look of panic he had before staring back. He smelled even more like piss than he had before. Poor guy had soiled himself.
“Good. Then tell the others.” I darted my blade forward again, the tip pricking against his chest. He couldn’t move back fast enough, the sharp edge cutting a clean line over clothes and skin.
He nodded his head frantically, his feet shuffling and tripping as he tried to escape back between the wagons. I dropped one blade, watching him go.
He didn’t make it halfway to his escape before a flash of light erupted around him, the line of gold spinning through the air. He froze in place before his head dropped to the ground a second before his body did.
My blade was still outstretched as he fell, landing in the purple blood that coated the ground. The deep indigo shade vanishing as his bright red blood seeped over it.
I hadn’t even moved.
“Well done, Caspyn,” Ryndle’s pleasant voice came up behind me as he did, his steps oddly squelchy against the damp ground. “Sorry about him. I couldn’t let him go. It’s not worth the risk to allow him to spread what he saw here. I am sure you understand.”
I did, but I whirled on him all the same, my blades already held out to him. He didn’t even flinch as the point of my blade pressed into his neck. He stood, that same smile plastered on his face, the look illuminated by a bright glow that came from him.
His tattoos were glowing.
They were fucking glowing. Not just reflecting the light from the sun, but glowing like someone was shining a lantern from behind them.
Each line shimmered, the brightness radiating up his arms and neck as he stood there looking like a parlor trick.
“Who are you?” I snarled, stepping closer and pressing my blade further into his neck. A tiny bead of purple blood formed there, but still, he did not move.
“You know what I am.” He was calm, too calm, and it made my magic flare in both warning and anger.
I had felt something off about him the first time I met him, the screaming that he was Fae blazing through my head. But I felt nothing from him but warmth then, just as I felt nothing but warmth in him now.
He stood there, his dark blood dripping down from the shallow slice I had placed in his neck to pool in his collarbone, his eyes calm even as I heard the gasps and grumbles from all the other Lightens as they came out of hiding to surround us. I didn’t tear my eyes from Ryndle.
“I should kill you right now, lob your head from your body.” I pressed harder, still he did not shift so much as an inch, he did not even wince as the blade continued to pierce his skin.
“You could. But you will not. There is too much that you would like to know. Too many questions that I have the answers to.” He was talking in his usual riddles; it only enraged me more.
“Who are you!” I yelled again, more blood trickling down his neck, over those glowing words.
“I have told you. I am Ryndle, the leader of the Children of Light. Nothing more. But you, you are Caspyn, the light bringer.”
I opened my mouth to call him out on his shit. He had said that, sure, but he and I both knew that was not what he was talking about.
“You are Fae.” He didn’t deny it, just smiled, his body a continuous calm even as my blades drew more blood. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”
“Does me being Fae really change anything?”
It changed everything. He was like all the others, the murderous rats who killed so many. Except I hadn’t seen that there, not with anyone.
No wonder I was hesitating.
“You have ten seconds, Ryndle!” I pressed the blade deeper, willing myself to make the slice.
“Why would you kill someone who you have known as good? Simply because you know now that I am Fae does not change anything. You have known us as we truly are, Caspyn. You have saved us. Would you now turn around and kill Lyani? What about Ziah?”
“That’s not the same and you know it.”
“Isn’t it?” He stood there, unflinching beneath my blade. Purple blood pooled as every truth he had spoken slapped me in the face.
Fuck.
My shoulders slumped, the blade falling from his neck to his chest.
“You have questions, Caspyn, and I may have some of those answers. We have much to discuss.”
Ryndle said nothing more as he led me away from the camp, everyone parting for us as though they were waves in the sea. The movement was in opposition from what I had seen them do every other time Ryndle had walked through them. They did not stretch out their hands in an effort to touch him. They did not grasp and follow him. They watched with tear streaked faces as Ryndle led me away. They watched as we walked, their blood covered hands clutching to children, clinging to Lightens who could barely stand.
Their wide eyed expressions of amazement were usually only reserved for Ziah, seeing it everywhere pulled at the muscles in my back, making it all worse. I gripped my blades as though I would rush them, my magic sparking as though it would get them to stop.
I growled, willing them to stop whatever idolation had begun to fester, but they stared on with that glossed over expression that before now had been reserved for Ryndle.
There was no fear there, no panic. Even as I walked by them, dripping with the blood of those who had tried to kill them.
Without my dark clothes and leathers the crimson stain was everywhere, it covered every inch of me. It dripped over my skin, drying in patches in a thick sticky mass. The crimson stained Catalyst, the wielder of Sypher magic who walked through death again and again.
I wasn’t sure any of them saw that.
With each blood drenched step, more of the Lightens rushed to line our path, it was only when we had nearly reached the end of them, reached the tree line that the villagers had almost certainly used as a cover, did those expressions change. Their eyes grew wide as one by one they lifted their hands to their heads, bodies shaking as they pressed three fingers to their brow before extending them out to me.
As they lifted their hands, the tattoos on their arms began to glow, the same outward dissonance I had seen in Ryndle glowing and glittering from each of the twisted words that covered them.
“Ryndle,” I was snarling, my fury from the fight only growing and sparking. I lifted my blades as though in warning, I wasn’t sure any of them noticed. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
“This is no game, Caspyn. They are wishing you well,” he whispered it like it was a prayer, which was only pissing me off more.
“I don’t have time for your riddles–” I began but he raised his hands as we reached the edge of the forest.
“You have time for this.”
He gestured toward the forest, toward the tall trees that I had ventured into many times before when I hunted the Fae.
Except that the forest had somehow changed.
The usually tall, thin trees that were surrounded by underbrush and bathed in the dewy light of morning had shifted to something dark. Massive trees stood close together, their tall branches and bulky trunks like sentinels that would not let the light in. The brush was dense, the wide leafed bushes and ferns twisting over one another as some unseen animal croaked and hissed. The shadows were ominous and somehow familiar. Even in the morning light, when streaks of gold would usually pull through tree trunks in glittering beams, everything was bathed in inky silhouettes. Haunted.
“What is this–” I began, but again he cut me off.
“What do you feel?” I wanted to tell him I felt the cold wind of his lies. That I felt the blood drying to my arms and legs. I felt the heat of my magic as it prepared to stop whatever nonsense he was playing at. But before I could even open my mouth, a sharp familiar feeling twisted over my skin, the tingle of warning that always denoted Fae.
But somehow, this time, it didn’t feel like that dark warning of the monsters at all.
It felt like light, it felt like the spark of energy that I experienced when Lyani touched me. That spark of light that was now spreading from those intricately spiraled words that covered my abdomen and my back, that were pulling from there, leading me right into the dense trees.
“What do you feel?” Ryndle asked again, the soft taunt telling me he knew exactly what I was experiencing. I growled in answer. I had already told him I didn’t have time for his games.
Thankfully, he didn’t ask again.
“Go. See where that pull leads you this time.”
“More games?” I snarled, even as I took a step into that quickly darkening forest. It had just been morning, hadn't it?
“Not anymore Caspyn, Light Bringer. See where it leads, and then I will tell you everything.” I turned to him, already snarling to demand that he give me answers now and tell me exactly what I wanted to know.
But he was gone.
I had heard him speak, felt his warmth, I had seen him only seconds ago, but now he was gone.
“Ryn–” I turned, expecting him to be right behind me, but there was no one there.
No, there was nothing there.
Not a man, not a wagon, not a child or an animal.
The clearing where we had camped the night before was empty. I could still smell the blood of the battle, I could see the patches of red and purple clinging to the grass, but nothing else was there.
In fact, if it wasn’t for the blood, I would question if the Lightens ever had been there.
“Ryndle?” my voice was a high pitched bark as I called his name, still scanning the empty fields for anyone. Any signs that they had even been there.
“Lyani?”
No one answered, it was only me standing at the edge of the trees, the pull that felt more like hope tugging me forward, leaving me no option but to follow.
Exhaling, I gripped my blades, having no belt or sheathe to place them into and took one step into the trees. The shadows swallowed me, the forest reemerging as though I had stepped a hundred steps and not only one.
Turning, the edge of the trees and the camp had vanished, leaving me standing amid the tall straight trunks below the shadowed overhang of the forest. Everything had gone.
It was just me and that pull.
“What the fuck are you playing at Ryndle!” I yelled into the thick foliage, a flock of birds taking off with a screech all their own.
Then there was nothing, nothing but me standing in the middle of a shadowed forest, that bright pull of some unknown magic pulling me forward. Into the dark.
Toward the truth that I had been waiting for.