Chapter 22 #2
Much of the ride was silent except for the sounds of the camels’ bodies shifting against our leather packs of supplies and the occasional gusts of wind creating flurries of fine sand in the air.
Both Saryn and I wore light muslin fabric wrapped around our heads and faces to both shield us from inhaling the dust and protect us from the sun beating down overhead.
There weren’t exactly roads leading us to where we were headed, but there were clear paths formed by the prints of other hooved animals who had recently traveled in the same direction.
I felt a slight moment of panic at the idea of a sandstorm eliminating them and Saryn having no idea which direction we’d come from.
With the silence of the ride, I was left with the solitude of my own thoughts.
I kept my shields up despite only Saryn being around, because that is what he taught me and—unlike El—he’d see them being down as a lapse in my judgement for which I’d be chastised.
I’d been so busy with the mission and my act since arriving in Artume that I’d had very little time to be contemplative within my own mind.
It was eerily uncomfortable, as I was an overthinker by nature.
This is something I might have once cherished.
A quiet moment for introspection and reading.
Letting my mind wander with the words across the page, being swept into a different world and becoming the characters within the story.
But now the feeling was foreign, and I wondered if it nagged at Saryn the way it did me, or if he had somehow found a way to turn that part of himself off.
The part that craved peace and quiet with no obligations.
Did he crave socialization? Were words sitting at the tip of his tongue like they were mine, just aching to hear the sound of another’s voice and take comfort in not being truly alone? Saryn was an enigma to me.
Theory was exactly what she always claimed.
She was pragmatic. She was straightforward and sincere.
Unlike Saryn, her words were not as calculated and cryptic.
For however scary Theory was, she wasn’t quite a mystery.
Saryn, though, was aloof and vague in a way that made his intentions and loyalties just as elusive.
We’d been tied to one another in this Order for less than a year, and I wondered how long it would take until he trusted me or any of us.
What would we have to do to earn that? Was it even possible?
My camel seemed content to follow his, so there wasn’t really an opportunity where we were side by side and I could perhaps engage him in conversation. I settled for the situation as it was and watched time pass as the sun’s shadow of our caravan moved across the sand.
When the sky began to dim, Saryn led us a ways off the main trail and established camp.
There wasn’t anything around for miles in every direction.
This left us vulnerable, but also able to see oncoming danger.
It was only the first night, and I already wished that I’d seen Ledor Canyon with my own eyes before now so we could portal there rather than spend two more days like this.
I also toyed with the idea of flying to cover the remaining distance to our destination.
How high would we need to fly in order to avoid detection?
I didn’t bother suggesting this, knowing it would be met with immediate criticism, so I just accepted my circumstances.
We unloaded our heavy packs and began to set up our separate tents.
Though I tried to keep the interior of my tent free of the intrusive sand, I soon realized that my efforts would be in vain.
I despised the sand. It was such a nuisance.
I hated the texture it left on my skin and how my lips always tasted salty.
I disliked the dry air and the harsh sunlight that caused me to squint my eyes and, subsequently, my head to throb from keeping my facial expression set unnaturally.
As I continued to make camp for the evening, I realized what a petulant child I sounded like, even in my own head.
These were the types of moments where Varro, on more than one occasion, had counseled me to count my blessings rather than focus on the negative and uncontrollable circumstances of my situation.
I rolled my eyes because he always sounded wise and in control, whereas I still hadn’t found a way to stop my emotions from getting the best of me.
I kicked at the sand in frustration and helped Saryn set up a small fire to prepare our meal.
He started it with flint stones, and it was an odd thing to watch, remembering what my father had taught Versa and me.
With no flame to draw upon, this is how it was done in the natural way.
The fire would be essential to keep us warm.
I found it fascinating that the desert could be so unbelievably hot during the day and so drastically the opposite at night.
The sun had almost set fully, and we gathered by the fire to eat our dinner when Saryn said, “Are you going to be able to pull this off?”
Nothing like some light dinner conversation. “Why are you bringing me if you don’t think I can do it?” I replied snarkily.
“I’m bringing you because you’re a more subtle means of thwarting Silas’ plan. The alternative, a garrison of northern troops, would present great risk.”
“Isn’t the fact that they snuck across our border and are essentially stealing from our lands enough to warrant a response? Why would we be at fault for defending our borders?” I asked, honestly wondering why a more covert solution was even necessary.
Saryn took another bite of his food and chewed through his response, but no one was around to judge him but me.
“I agree with you, but our king has always been too hesitant, and Idris fails to counsel him otherwise. He prefers Cambria does not appear as aggressors, and taking down an entire group of indentured miners would go against that strategy.”
“But we are taking down an entire group of Artumians!” I argued back indignantly.
He snapped his head in my direction. “No, we’re not. A landfall that caused a portion of the canyon to collapse on itself will take the life of those miners. That is why you’re here.” He smirked before taking a drink.
Hearing his summary of how the events would unfold solidified my opinion that Saryn was a truly callous male.
“Oh, how timely,” I said sarcastically. “A canyon made of some of the strongest and oldest rock in our world suddenly caves in on itself, how strange that is.”
“Very strange,” he said back dismissively, continuing to eat his meal. “You know what your problem is, Cress?”
“What?”
“You still believe everything is as it seems. You take things at face value. You think history is as it was written. I wonder how long it will take you to truly shed yourself of such naivety.” He paused. “That is, if you live long enough to find out.”
Silence hung between us for a long time after that remark. I did not expect him to be the first to speak again.
“Do you think Aeon wants people to know that there may be moonstones in that canyon? Or do you think he’d rather scholars and commonfolk spin tales of how treacherous and barren the landscape of Ledor is so that no one ever bothers to even think about going there.
Do you think the lessons in your little books at your highbrow academies teach you the truth or what they want you to believe? ”
I’d never thought about doubting a single word of any text I’d read until Basdie.
When they told us to read every book with scrutiny and question which side had written those texts.
What did they benefit from having us believe their histories?
I watched the light of the fire between us flicker shadows across Saryn’s rugged face.
His facial hair, trimmed tight, showed the sharp angles of his jawline, leading up to his eye patch and more silvery hair atop his head.
I always wondered how old he was. How long had he been carrying out the will of King Aeon or those before him?
What was the story of his bloodline? Was he Honored or Royal?
“When did you learn to distrust everything?” Of all the questions racing through my mind, this was the only one I felt brave enough to ask.
“Not all of us were given a beautiful life like you. Some of us, like Trace and myself, have known evil since a very young age. Some of us learned it was better to distrust those around us, those closest to us. We didn’t have to shed our naivety; we were never privileged enough to have it in the first place. ”
His truth cut through me like a dull knife as I reflected on the fact that all High Fae, which I had always believed to be privileged and blessed, were not. Wealth, beauty, standing…these did not always beget a fortunate existence.
Perhaps Saryn despised me for the time I was granted those things. Maybe his handling of me was misdirected jealousy.
The sky above had finally turned pitch black, except for the brilliant sparkle of the endless starscape above, where large clusters of stars appeared almost like clouds. I’d never seen such a thing of wonderment. No fires or Fae light in the distance to distract from its vastness and enormity.
Saryn noticed me staring, mouth agape.
“Even when you look up from a place as desolate and scary as the Ivory Waste, there is beauty. I hope to go there someday…”
“To where?” I asked.
“To where the stars hold dominion.”
We sat in the silence of his answer, knowing the weight of his response. Wherever that was, the gateway to the Gods or worlds beyond, we hoped it was ruled by fairer, kinder, more peaceful minds. For our world felt destined to be tangled in conflict for eternity, cursed.