Chapter 28 What We Stopped Asking #2
"Perhaps, but unfortunately leaders rarely gossip," he said as the wind caught the edge of his cloak. "They observe, and they have begun to notice things."
Soren remained silent.
Leander took a step closer, not in confrontation but simply unwilling to let the moment pass.
"For years everyone knew where Ironfang stood," he said quietly and with measured precision. "Three months ago, they stopped knowing."
The sea seemed louder suddenly, not because it had changed, but because neither man was listening to it anymore.
For several moments neither man spoke as the sea stretched endlessly beyond the cliffs, grey beneath a sky that seemed unable to decide between storm and sunlight.
Finally Soren shook his head and said, "You dragged me across the North to tell me I'm tired."
Leander's expression remained unchanged as he replied, "No."
"Then what?"
For the first time since the conversation began, something shifted behind Leander's eyes, not irritation or amusement, but genuine concern.
"When did the mark last change?"
The question landed so unexpectedly that Soren stared at him while the wind seemed to sharpen around them, and for a moment neither of them moved before Soren's expression hardened.
"What?"
"The mark," Leander said, holding his gaze. "When did it last change?"
A warning settled into Soren's voice as he asked, "Why are you asking?"
Instead of answering immediately, Leander looked out toward the sea and said, "The healer examined Eira."
Every muscle in Soren's body seemed to tighten, and although Leander noticed, he continued anyway.
"She was concerned, not because Eira was injured or dying, but simply concerned, and the distinction mattered."
Soren's jaw clenched as he asked, "About what?"
"She doesn't know," Leander answered immediately, his honesty uncomfortable but real, and for the first time since the conversation had begun, uncertainty entered the space between them.
Soren frowned and asked, "What does that mean?"
"It means exactly what I said," Leander replied as he folded his arms. "The mark has changed, and the healer believes something is happening, though she doesn't know what."
The sea crashed below as Soren looked away first, not because he accepted the answer, but because he hated it, since unknown dangers could not be fought, unknown enemies could not be tracked, and unknown problems could not be solved.
"What kind of change?" he asked.
Leander studied him before answering, "A change significant enough that she spent two days searching through records."
Something cold settled in Soren's stomach as he repeated, "Records?"
"The oldest we possess."
"And?"
Leander's mouth tightened slightly as he said, "And she found very little."
That answer was somehow worse as the wind swept across the cliffs, and for a long moment only the sea spoke before Soren finally asked quietly, "Why didn't you put that in the letter?"
A faint smile touched Leander's face as he replied, "Because if I had, you would have ridden here in half the time."
Despite himself, Soren almost smiled, though the expression vanished before it fully formed as his hand moved unconsciously toward the mark beneath his sleeve, something Leander noticed immediately.
"What has it been doing?" he asked.
Soren's eyes lifted as the question felt harmless, though it was anything but, and for several moments he considered refusing to answer before finally admitting, "It burns."
"When?"
Soren hesitated, and that hesitation told Leander more than the answer itself.
"Whenever I think about her?"
"No," Soren said as his gaze drifted toward the sea. "Not always."
The wind moved through the silence while Leander remained very still before saying, "And that concerns me."
Soren frowned and asked, "Why?"
Leander looked toward the distant horizon, seeming to weigh his words carefully for a long moment before answering, "Because I think both of you have spent months assuming the mark is something happening to you."
His gaze returned to Soren as he added, "What if it's trying to do something instead?"
Soren let out a quiet breath before asking, "What exactly are you suggesting?"
"Nothing," Leander replied immediately, and that alone was irritating enough to make Soren frown.
"You brought me here to discuss a mark neither of us understands, a healer who has no answers, and records that tell us nothing," he said, his tone sharpening.
Leander inclined his head slightly and answered with calm seriousness, "When you put it that way, it does sound less impressive."
Soren stared at him, and although the absurdity of the situation nearly broke through the tension for a moment, it never quite did, especially as the wind shifted again and the sea darkened beneath passing clouds.
Finally, Soren shook his head and said, "I don't have time for mysteries."
"No," Leander replied, his gaze settling on him with quiet certainty, "that's precisely the problem."
Soren's jaw tightened as he continued, "There are people waiting for me in Ironfang, there are decisions that need to be made, and there are threats I can actually do something about," and the words came harder now, more honest than before, "there are things I can fix."
Silence followed as Leander studied him for several moments before asking quietly, "And how has that been working for you?"
The question struck harder than it should have, not because it was cruel, but because it wasn't, and Soren found himself looking away as the sea crashed below.
Leander followed his gaze toward the horizon before saying, "I don't think the mark is the danger," which immediately drew Soren's attention.
"No?" Soren asked, frowning.
"No," Leander repeated as the wind caught the edge of his cloak, "I think ignorance is."
For a long moment neither man spoke, and then Leander continued, "The healer found references to similar bonds."
Soren's expression sharpened as he asked, "Similar?"
"Not identical," Leander clarified carefully, adding, "and as far as she can tell, no one bothered recording what happened afterward."
Soren frowned again and asked, "Why?"
Leander laughed softly before answering, "Because people are remarkably consistent," while the sea rolled endlessly below them.
"If something survives one generation, they call it tradition, if it survives three, they call it law, and if it survives ten, they stop asking why it exists at all," he continued, and something in that settled heavily between them, not because it sounded impossible, but because it sounded true.
Leander's gaze drifted toward the distant sea as he went on, "The Old Law is older than either of our clans, older than Silverwake, and older than Ironfang," and his expression grew thoughtful as he added, "and yet no one seems particularly interested in understanding it."
Soren folded his arms and said, "You're interested."
A faint smile appeared as Leander replied, "I've always been interested in things that make sensible people uncomfortable," and for the first time in several minutes, the corner of Soren's mouth twitched.
Then Leander's expression became serious again as he said, "The point isn't the mark, the point is that neither of you knows what it is becoming," while the wind pressed against them, and after a brief pause he added, "and that should concern you far more than it currently does."
Silence followed, not agreement but not dismissal either, and despite himself, Soren found himself considering a possibility he had spent months refusing to entertain: not that the mark was dangerous or even that it was changing, but that it might mean something, and that someone, somewhere, had once known what.
The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable or easy, but simply full, the sort of silence that existed only between people who had known each other long enough to stop fearing it.
Far below, another wave shattered itself against the rocks as Soren looked toward the sea.
"If answers exist, then someone should find them."
Leander's laugh was quiet as he said, "There he is."
Soren frowned and asked, "What?"
"The man who believes every problem comes with a task."
The irritation returned immediately as Soren replied, "Most do."
"Do they?" Leander tilted his head slightly before continuing, "For years I've watched you respond to every difficulty in exactly the same way."
The wind tugged at his cloak as he went on, "A threat appears and you confront it, a problem emerges and you solve it, a burden falls and you carry it."
Soren folded his arms and asked, "And?"
Leander's gaze held his as he answered, "And perhaps that worked because those things actually belonged to you."
The words settled heavily between them, and for a moment neither man spoke before Soren asked quietly, "And the mark doesn't?"
"No," Leander replied without hesitation as he looked toward the horizon. "I don't think it belongs to you."
Soren frowned again and asked, "Then who does it belong to?"
A faint smile touched Leander's face as he said, "That's the first intelligent question you've asked all morning."
Soren glared at him, but Leander ignored it and continued, "The Old Law existed before you, before Eira, and before Ironfang."
The sea rolled endlessly below them as he added, "Yet somehow both of you have spent months treating the mark as though it revolves around your lives, but what if it doesn't?"
For a moment Soren had no answer, and the possibility felt strangely unsettling as Leander continued more quietly, "You keep asking what the mark wants from you."
His gaze remained fixed on the distant water as he added, "Perhaps you've been asking the wrong question."
Soren watched him and asked, "What question should I be asking?"
For the first time since the conversation began, Leander hesitated, not because he knew the answer, but because he didn't, and finally he said, "What was it created to do?"