Chapter 19
I t was our last night at Theomund’s manor, and the last day I’d be required to spend training with Alandris while we pretended to be oblivious to the tension between us. Once we were on the road again, the busyness of travel and setting up camp would take over. In the event that time allowed for any training, the lessons would be brief. I could manage brief. It was the countless hours staring at him leaned against the willow tree, his long legs crossed in front of him, eyes closed in concentration, rays of sunlight dancing across his perfect face, which was driving me mad.
We’d only just made it out of the front gate when my cloak snagged on a broken piece of the fence, a large tear shredding the fabric as I pulled away. A lovely start to the day. Or could it be? An excuse to skip out on another lesson in staring at Alandris when I should be visualizing the manifestation of my magic ?
I let out a loud grumble of frustration. I needed to sell this for it to work, after all. “Clearly, today is not my day. I tripped over Kallistra in the morning, my bread at breakfast was stale, and now this.” I feigned an exasperated sigh as I held the tatters of my cloak in my hands. “Perhaps it would be better if I stayed in the manor today.”
Alandris laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Your marks are completely gone, and my wound has healed nicely. We need to take advantage of a full day of training. There’s an extra cloak laying across the chair in the room Kaz and I are sharing. Why don’t you go grab it while I pick the remainder of your cloak off the fence?” He left me no chance to object as he started untangling the fabric from the jagged wood.
I possibly stomped my feet a bit louder than necessary as I trudged up the stairs, but I needed some way to let out my frustration. At least he’d made it clear we were going to train like we normally did. I wouldn’t have to watch him sitting there all day long while I pretended to focus. I only had to practice with him behind me… with his hands touching me as I tried to call forth something more potent using my magic. Great.
The cloak was waiting for me on the chair as he’d mentioned, but my attention was on the black leather journal on the desk. I traced a finger over the silver lines on the front. Some sort of tree. Nothing I recognized, but I knew it had to be Alanadris’ journal. He’d briefly mentioned it when I’d asked him how he would contact his mentor, Lyandril. It supposedly had magical enchantments that enabled the two of them to communicate as if they were writing on the same exact pages. Lyandril had a near identical journal that acted as its twin. It was similar to the magic stone Kallistra used to contact our village. Enchanted items were more reliable than ravens.
Alandris had been keeping me updated about whether he’d heard from Lyandril, but so far, there’d been no response. My hand gripped the edge of the cover. I shouldn’t look. It was wrong, a complete invasion of his privacy, and yet, something in me urged me forward. I pulled the front cover back and read the first entry.
Dear Lyandril,
You requested I keep things brief in order to preserve this wonderful magical item which you’ve possessed over your many, many years of life. However, you’ve also demanded that I address you with respect on several occasions, so I have chosen to heed those words instead. I do hope you are well, and that the Consortium is keeping you busy.
I am writing to ask if you have encountered or have any knowledge of a peculiar type of magic. It seems to manifest as darkness or shadows and takes quite a toll on the user. If the power cannot be kept in balance, it leaves behind black ‘tendrils’ on the skin of the user, or anyone who comes into contact with the power. These eventually fade with time, though they are incredibly painful.
Not to worry, all is well, and I will continue my travels as expected. My thanks in advance for any insight you can provide on this matter.
Alandri s
I chuckled at Alandris’ playful message. It was nice to see he behaved the same even with those from the Consortium. We used to have equally spirited exchanges before I started avoiding him. I pushed the thought to the side and continued reading. If I didn’t head back downstairs soon, Alandris would likely come looking for me.
Alandris,
Thank you for considering my request so earnestly. We will discuss your admirable dedication upon your return.
On a more serious note, please describe where or with whom you have discovered this magic. I need more details before I can provide you with an answer.
Lyandril
The remainder of the entries did not follow the letter-like style of the first two. Even without their signatures, I could discern the writer based on their handwriting. Lyandril’s was neat and careful, while Alandris’ was fluid and elegant, though a bit messy.
One woman I am traveling with possesses the power. I have been attempting to teach her to manage it. She says it is a gift from her God, so it must be an innate form of magic rather than a learned one.
What does she look like?
Lyandril, isn’t that a bit forward?
Alandris, answer the question. With haste.
She is human, but her eyes are bright red. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Her hair?
That is peculiar as well. Though she is young, it is pure white.
Does she travel alone?
What is with all of these questions?
Answer the question.
No, she travels with another woman. She calls her Keeper.
Nairu?
How do you know that name?
Alandris, you must dispose of it.
My heart began to race. I was acutely aware I’d spent too much time up here and that Alandris could come running upstairs at any moment, but after reading those words, I had to continue on.
Lyandril, with all due respect, have you lost your mind? What do you mean dispose of her? She’s an innocent young woman.
Read this very carefully, and then burn this page of the journal. That creature is no innocent young woman. It is a monster approaching four hundred years old. Its magic is not that of a woman’s. I can explain more when you return home, but I need you to trust me. If not as your Grand Arch Magus, then as someone you consider your mentor. Kill it.
That was the last entry in the journal. There was no reply from Alandris, though the splotches of ink on the page indicated that he’d been formulating one. My hands were shaking as I closed the cover of the journal, making sure to place it exactly as I’d found it. I had to descend the stairs slowly. My legs were wobbling to the point it was difficult to keep my balance. I braced myself against the banister as I struggled to take enough air into my lungs.
Alandris was in the doorway by the time I reached the bottom step. His face twisted with concern. “What happened?” He rushed to my side, ready to steady me in his arms, but I jumped back.
My butt landed hard against the wooden step. “G-get away from me.” My lips trembled as I spoke, every memory between the two of us flashing in my mind. How long had he had the directive to murder me? How much of Alandris was real? I didn’t have the capacity to begin to think about what Lyandril had meant when he said I was a four-hundred-year-old monster. I was barely twenty-five.
Kallistra’s words echoed in my ears. The words I should have listened to. Do not trust him.
I watched him solve the puzzle in real time. What had me cowering from him. “You read the journal.” The words left his lips breathlessly. “Let me explain.”
“How long?” I struggled to bring myself to my feet, pushing my back against the wall as I attempted to move away from him and toward the front door. Hopefully, the conversation would distract him long enough for me to get away. “How long ago did he order you to kill me?”
“A few days, but please, Nairu—” He reached out to me and I shoved his hand away. “I have no intentions to harm you.”
“Were the Visumena your doing? Was the goal my death?”
“What? No! ”
The shadows of my magic sputtered at my fingertips, as if sensing my fear. “I am not a monster!”
As I stepped through the doorway, my magic answered my wishes, erecting a dark wall of shadow between Alandris and I. It was stronger than anything I’d ever created before, but I knew it likely wouldn’t be long before he would burn through it with his flames. Our power levels were just too vast. I took what little opportunity I had and ran for the trees.
I spared only one glance behind me before making it to cover and found no one chasing behind me. The wall had held. Now, somewhere deep in the thickness of the trees, I could catch my breath.
I didn’t know where I’d intended to run to. I didn’t have any supplies, nor the faintest clue of which direction I’d gone. The trees surrounding me should have been suffocating, terrifying, but instead, they were a comfort. I leaned back against a thick trunk, bending over and gripping my knees. The tears that had been burning my eyes as I turned my back on Alandris were now flowing freely down my cheeks. I sucked in a sob, letting myself collapse to the ground, tucking my knees tight against my chest.
He’d said he had no intentions of harming me, but he’d kept Lyandril’s order a secret from me all the same. Every time I’d asked him if there’d been word from his mentor, he had lied to me and told me no. If that was not an admission of considering obeying Lyandril, then what was it? Did he truly think I was some centuries-old creature? I’d told him so much of my past, things I’d never told anyone before. I’d told him of my childhood with Kallistra. Did he think us both monsters?
The only thing I couldn’t understand was how Lyandril had known my name. I’d never met him in my life. I hadn’t even heard of him before Alandris told me of him. I’d never ventured to the Mages Consortium, either. Our worlds were completely separate.
My head was throbbing with a horrible, sharp pain. Splotches of white were fading in and out of my vision. Right when I thought I’d lose consciousness, I heard that wicked, distorted voice from my nightmares in my head.
My dear child. I warned you.
“Shut up!” I screeched, burying my hands in my hair.
It is only us. As it always will be. Did you not learn your lesson? I am inevitable. No matter what path you take, it will always end the same. That is the beauty of our fate. All roads lead to me.
Covering my ears did nothing to stop the voice. “What are you?” I bit out.
You are still too weak, my child. The answer to what I am will be the death of you. There is only one thing you need to know—you are mine.
“Just shut up!” I screamed. If I pushed against the sides of my head any harder, it would burst. “Stop! Please stop!” Sobs wracked my entire body as I continued to shout the words over and over.