23. Diar
Diar
Iwoke to the same dream I always did.
Fire consumed the Tsuyan manor. A piece of the ceiling collapsed, blocking my door. Akemi broke through and reached for my hand. I took it.
The Emperor stood in our dining room, bathed in the mantle's light. A Brightspear guarded him, a Solheart man in white armor and golden threads.
Someone stepped from the shadows: a man cloaked in black. He lunged, sword clashing with Akemi's.
I watched their steps, light and graceful, a unique dance I wouldn't soon forget. Motes of light surrounded them, from which grew radiant blades.
The golden swords cut down Akemi and stopped short of my throat. While I stared at the hole in my brother's chest, at the blood flowing across his robes, the shadow disappeared.
Leaving me alive.
Sighing, I sat up and pulled my dress on. The dreams had once frightened me. Now they were mundane reminders of all that I had failed.
Without bothering to check my appearance in the mirror, I stepped outside into the hall.
My 'guard' was leaning against the wall, hands tucked into his black doublet's pockets. Quinn smiled almost politely at me when I closed the door behind me.
"I had a feeling you were an early riser," he said. "Come with me."
I stared at his backside as he turned, curling my hand into a fist.
Driving a sword into his back would brighten my mood.
Alas, Father had taken Akemi's sword back.
"What's your game?" I asked, following him down the hall.
"I want to see something," Quinn said.
Voices rose from the foyer as we reached the balcony overlooking the first floor. Quinn backed up and pressed himself to the wall, peering around the first pillar of the banister to the foyer below.
I moved to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Shh," he hissed.
"Why is a Solheart sneaking around?" I whispered.
Quinn didn't answer. Someone was speaking below, but I couldn't make out what they said.
Father's voice followed, louder. "Where would we put them?"
An unfamiliar man spoke. I caught only two words. "But, they . . . "
"Tsuyan is overcrowded as it is,” Father barked. "We cannot house nor feed refugees. Have the guards keep them outside the walls."
The man responded, then I heard him hurry through the front door. It slammed behind him.
Quinn tsked. "Typical." He peered around the corner, then motioned me to follow.
I glanced over the railing and saw my father's head vanish under the balcony as he ventured deeper into the house. Jogging to catch up, I walked behind the Solheart. "So, which is it? Quinn or Glenn?"
The Solheart refused to answer. My hand curled again, itching to grasp a sword.
He brought me to the foyer and placed a hand on the front door.
"I'm not supposed to leave the house," I reminded him.
"I know." Quinn opened the door for me and beckoned me out.
Cold winter winds blew my dress as I trotted down the steps and followed the promenade to the gates. The guard stationed at our manor's entrance watched me warily, but did not stop my Solheart guard.
When we stepped out into the street, I stuck close to Quinn's side. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," he said, leading me down the western road.
I knew this route. Father would send me this way when Lord Ishida wanted to see me. If the Solheart intended to bring me to my fiancé, I would most certainly be stabbing him once I found a sword.
Quinn veered off the road just before we reached Ishida's manor, thank Solathair. He brought me to a pasture for the Shatterblades’ horses—a mostly empty field with the men deployed to the forts.
The Solheart took a moment to ensure nobody was around, then drew a sword from his belt. An Aenir blade. They favored spears and bows. Most swords crafted there were only ceremonial, worn by officers at parties.
Flipping the blade, Quinn offered it to me.
My prayers had been answered.
I took the sword. "What are you doing?"
"Testing you," Quinn said, drawing a long dagger from the other side of his belt. "I want to see if you deserve to carry that sword."
"Am I allowed to kill you?"
"I believe most people call this sparring, not murder."
Disappointed, I walked to the field opposite him. Akemi had brought me out to the white hills behind Tsuyan to spar every week.
Gripping the blade the way I'd been taught, I raised it above my head and charged him.
The Solheart was better than I expected. He blocked my first few strikes, then stepped back to avoid a thrust at his underarm. A few clashes into our bout, I realized both blades were dull.
Shame.
As much as I wanted to lay him on his ass, I couldn't break his defenses. On my final swing, he managed to disarm me, ripping the blade from my grip.
"You're good," he commended, panting. "Even stuck in that travesty of a dress."
The corner of my mouth tugged up into a smile. "Satisfied? Father will cut me into ribbons if he sees us."
"No. Not quite yet." Quinn sheathed his blades and caught his breath. "Ishii's funeral will be held tomorrow. And then his bow will be passed on."
"Who killed him?" I asked. "You never explained what happened."
"I don't know, " Quinn said. He wore a serious expression for the first time since we'd met. "Nothing in the north should be capable of wiping out an entire village, and a Paragon with them."
I didn't know of anything, either. Beyond Forlaith sprawled a desolate, infertile land called the Northern Wastes. From what I'd heard, they were uninhabited by both man and beast.
The thought of a creature—or man—that could kill Ishii and escape unscathed was terrifying.
"And my father?" I asked. "Is there a reason you didn't want him seeing you?"
"I like to hear what people say when they think no one is looking." Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Refugees from a little town down south arrived seeking asylum. They say their home was overrun."
"By the same monsters that took Galasvar?"
"I'd presume.” Quinn tilted his head, beckoning me to follow. "And if they bypassed the border." He glanced back at me. "They'll come here next."
Hiking up my long gown, I followed the Solheart back to the road.
Tsuyan looked like a white city of orderly streets from the inside, but it was built in an elaborate star-shaped pattern.
Centuries ago, when the world had been broken up into smaller kingdoms that warred amongst themselves, this city had never fallen. It had withstood every siege.
But it had been built to fight off men, not beasts.
I was knocked from my thoughts when I noticed Quinn was leading me through a set of gates and down the promenade of Lord Ishida's manor.
"What are we doing here?" I hissed.
Quinn paused, pointing to the statue of an old man sitting in the yard. "Old Lord Ishida here—your fiancé's ancestor—founded the Shatterblades."
"Yes, I know. What of it?"
He tsked. "Siotha is always kept here when it has no owner. It's an ancient tradition. Do you live in a cave?"
"Prince Ferris asked me that, too." I narrowed my eyes. "Is that some sort of Aenir expression?"
Quinn closed his eyes and ran a hand over them. "Stay with me. Don't speak."
I sewed my mouth shut and followed him to the doors. Ignoring Ishida was my favorite way of dealing with him. My fiancé had an ego—I didn't need to be able to read people to know that. Spend a few minutes pretending he didn't exist, and it drove him into a rage.
Not that he could do anything about it. He'd never gotten me alone and couldn't risk hitting me in front of my father.
Quinn pounded the knocker and stepped back. A maid in a formless blue gown pulled the door open and paled when she saw the Solheart standing on her porch. Bowing deeply, she waited for him to speak.
"I'm in charge of overseeing the new Paragon. May I?"
"Of course." She ushered us inside. "I'll fetch my lord."
Oh, endless seas, no.
"That's alright.” Quinn smiled at her. "I just need to examine the weapon. Routine paperwork."
"I must insist, my lord. He'd be appalled if a Solheart arrived and I didn't tell him." Bowing, she hurried deeper into the lavish manor.
Ishida had traveled to Lavaire a few years ago and fallen for their aesthetic.
Despite the Tsuyan people appreciating austere homes that did not flaunt wealth and material gains, Ishida covered his walls in paintings of home and afar.
The Lavairian people, he said, left no wall uncovered, no table unset.
Their food burst with flavors too intense to be imagined.
Akemi had longed to see it, but never had the chance.
I stared at a painting of Terishal hanging on the right wall. Far, far to the northeast lay the land of mountains and barren plains. They built homes covered in beautiful murals, bright tarps stretched above.
Akemi had journeyed there once for a training exercise and adored it. So had my mother. She'd given me a Terishalese name.
I touched the cord around my neck—Akemi's Shatterblade necklace. Father hadn't taken it from me—he hadn't realized I had it.
What would Akemi have decorated this little necklace with?
My least favorite person trotted down the foyer's grand stairwell, one hand smoothing back his oiled hair while the other straightened his Shatterblade robes.
Lord Ishida glanced between us, mouth curling beneath his sharp nose.
He dropped into a low bow. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Lord Seradh?"
Quinn waved a hand idly. "I need to examine the bow. It's nothing to worry about."
"Of course.” Ishida rose and motioned for the maid to hand Quinn a set of keys. "And, you've brought Diar with you?"
"She's my charge. I thought she could use some fresh air."
"Let me take her off your hands," Ishida offered. "I know how she can be a handful."
Seas, I hated him.
"That's alright, I like her." Quinn motioned for me to follow and turned down the left hall.
Staring at Quinn's back, I pointedly avoided looking at my fiancé until we were a few paces away. Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I saw his jaw tighten in annoyance.
But he would not dare rebuke a Solheart.
Quinn leaned in, spinning the keys around his finger. "Do you still want to kill me?"
"Less than I did before," I admitted.
Smirking, Quinn stopped before a heavy wooden door and fitted his key into its lock. It swung open with a weighty creak. When I hesitated outside the room, he grabbed my arm and pulled me in.
The room before me was nearly empty. A heavy thud echoed through the space when the door closed behind us—sealing us inside the vault storing Siotha.
Paragon Ishii's famous bow sat on a display table at the center of the small room. I'd seen it a few times before, but its beauty always took my breath away.
A curving handle of pale blue ended in delicate tips of ice. Intricate designs were carved along the bow, mimicking the complicated patterns of snowflakes.
When drawn, spectral arrows of frost appeared in the wielder's hand. Ishii had demonstrated for us, one spring long ago, after Akemi and I had begged and begged.
The old Paragon had a soft spot for children.
A heavy weight pulled my shoulders down. How could a man who had lived for so long be gone?
Quinn took a step closer to the bow and reached out. He retracted his hand and turned to me. "Do you want to see it?"
"I thought you were here for paperwork," I said.
"I am. You can still touch it, if you want."
Akemi would rise from the grave and haunt me if I didn't seize this opportunity. Stepping forward, I ran a finger along the bow, marveling at the frigid air clinging to its core.
Glistening light poured between the cracks in its design. The sounds of rushing waves reached my ears, and I felt deepest comfort. Like I could fall asleep right here and never wake.
I closed my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me.
Shame overtook me and burned my cheeks. I'd left home to lay my brother's soul to rest, to find him justice. Within days, I'd been dragged back home.
Maybe it was my fate to wither here, like all women born in this land.
Releasing the bow, I stepped back. When I opened my eyes, I saw Quinn staring at me intently.
His mouth curled into a wicked grin. "You'll have to forgive me, girl. I didn't bring you back home to protect you."
I stepped back, unsure what he meant. "I'm well aware you aren't trying to help me."
Quinn stepped closer, lowering his voice to a breath. "You raced headlong into danger, back in Kentoro. Protecting the king. Chasing his assassin." He paused, smirking. "Getting into bar fights."
"And look what good it did me."
"You don't get it, do you?" The room seemed to darken, trapping me in the light of his yellow eyes. "I just put you in more danger than I think you can fathom."
Looking down, I searched my thoughts. Was it illegal for women to look upon Siotha? No, that couldn't be right.
Quinn stepped back. "I was there, with Paragon Tiernan, the day the holy rapier chose him. I know what it looks like."
Realization struck me like a punch to the gut. I looked past him, at the bow sitting calmly in its stand.
It pulsed gently, with calming blue light. Calling me back to it. I staggered forward.
Quinn was lying. He had to be. A Paragon weapon’s choice couldn't look so simple. Cierthine had been much more dramatic.
The bow hummed louder as I approached.
"When Cierthine made its choice," Quinn said. "The world began to crack. But you, Diar? You're going to break it."