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September 1, 2009

Call of the Cunning

 
       “My lord,” the woman said. “I see something now.”
       Brennin stood. He rarely stood to anyone, but Emma's words were always heeded. “What do you see?”
       “A great power.” Emma crooned. She reached out in front of her as if something was there. “It will emerge tomorrow... in the East.”
       “What sort of power?”
       “A skyborn,” she said.
       Brennin listened for more words, but Emma was silent. When she channeled the power of prophesy, she would often lose herself and forget those around her. He turned away. “Then we will find the child and raise it in the power of light.”
       “No,” Emma said suddenly. “This power will not be of use to you. In fact...” The color returned to her face and she focused on him. “It will be your end.”
       Brennin did not look angry or even disturbed. Too many were watching. He would not show the least bit of fear. “Are you certain?”
       “I'm sorry,” Emma said. “It it not terribly clear. I see no face or names.”
       “Have you an idea where it will be?”
       Emma nodded. “On the outskirts of Ashland in the Thornwood Forest. I saw that clearly.”
       Brennin snapped his fingers and two men rolled out a map on the table. He followed his finger to the East, where Emma had described. There was only one village in the forest. It housed the keepers of a skyborn temple he had destroyed sixteen years ago. There had been dozens of such temples, he couldn't remember the area specifically.
       “It is close to the city of Stonewall,” Brennin announced to the room. He called his first servant. “Have my men there go to the village tomorrow morning and burn it down. Leave no survivors.”
       “My lord?” The servant asked.
       Brennin did not hesitate to slap him. “Do as I say, quickly.”
       “Yes m'lord.” The servant left without another word.
       “Brennin,” Emma said in a similar tone as the servant had used. “It was not my intention for you to do this.”
       “But it is necessary,” he said. Emma did not look convinced. He stepped towards her gently. “The Brigade of Light is not evil. If this power deems to destroy me, it is not good.”
       “But to slaughter innocents...”
       He lifted one finger to silence her. “You, yourself told me they are not innocent.”
       “I do hope you are right.”
       Brennin smiled. “And I you.” He offered her his hand. “Come, I'll walk you back to your chambers.” He took Emma's hand and walked through the parting crowd.

***


       Aden lay barefoot on the remains of a large broken column. The old temple was strewn around him, now nothing but ruins. Vines crept over every stone. Pieces of marble faces were half-buried in dirt. Aden lay watching the sky, letting time pass and waiting for supper.
       When he thought he heard a noise he sat up quickly, then relaxed. There shouldn't have been anyone near the temple. Still, it was close to nightfall and it was never a good idea to be alone in the forest after dark. So he strapped on his boots and headed home.
       Thorndale was not a large town. It sat deep in the forest and all of the buildings except for the bell tower were sheltered beneath the canopy of trees. In fact, if it weren't for the bell tower sounding every hour, one could easily pass through the forest without ever knowing it was there. There were no roads that led to the village, only a few bumpy paths known by the people who lived there. Aden did not often see other travelers in the woods.
       Yet another sound echoed and Aden ducked behind a tree to listen. Was he being followed? He heard scuffling, a tree-branch snapping, and finally a scream. It was a woman's scream.
       He rushed towards her without hesitation. The knife that hung from his belt was soon unsheathed. A ravine was not far in front of him. He picked up speed, ready to jump, but then immediately stumbled to a stop. The sound was coming from inside the ravine itself. And the woman, he discovered, was not in danger at all.
       The woman, more like a girl, screamed again in irritation and kicked the ravine wall. She was dressed very nicely, much too nicely to be walking around in a forest alone, but all down her back was a thick stain of dirt.
       “Need help?” Aden asked from above, slightly out of breath.
       The girl was startled, but perhaps more embarrassed. “No, I'm fine. I just... slipped down here.” She tried to wipe the dirt off her backside. “What is this thing, anyway?”
       “A dried-out ravine,” Aden said. “When it rains, it's usually four feet deep with water.”
       “I'm lucky it didn't rain today,” she said grimly.
       Aden extended his hand. “Here, let me help you out.”
       She considered it a second, then let him pull her out of the ravine. “Thank you,” she said, looking over her dress for damage. “My name is Abby.”
       “I'm Aden. Most of the dirt is on your butt.”
       She chuckled and tried to brush it away. “I just cleaned this.”
       Aden wasn't sure what to say. He'd never really talked to a girl so nicely dressed before. “Where are you from?” He asked her.
       “Stonewall,” she said, looking at him for the first time. Aden realized that he was silently being judged. “Have you ever been there?”
       “You're not that far away from home,” he muttered.
       “I'm sorry,” she said. “I guess I thought... well, you could say that I don't leave the city very much.”
       He wasn't sure if he should like this girl or not. She was pretty. She had blond hair and pretty blue eyes. But it was obvious that she didn't think very highly of him. “What's the occasion?”
       “I'm sorry?” she asked. “Oh, why am I here? I'm actually looking for a village, Thorndale. Have you heard of it?”
       “I'd better. I live there.”
       “Marvelous,” she said, genuinely pleased. “Can you take me there?”
       Aden shrugged. “Sure. It's not too far...”
       He started walking towards the village and the girl followed step beside him. “Thank you again. I was having trouble finding it.”
       “We don't get many visitors.” He told her. “Mind if I ask why you're here?”
       “I'm looking for a woman, an older woman. Her name is Chaira.”
       “Oh,” Aden said. He slowed down his pace noticeably.
       “What is it? You know her?”
       “I did,” Aden said. He stopped and turned to her. “She died... four years ago.”
       The girl stared back at him, her expression frozen. “I see.”
       “I'm sorry,” he said. “Did... you know her?” It was impossible that she knew her. Chaira had been bed-ridden for years before she died.
       “She was my grandmother.” Abby sat down on a high root and stared at the ground. “I found her name in the census records two weeks ago. I was shocked to learn she existed at all.”
       Aden fidgeted uncomfortably. “I didn't know Chaira had any children.”
       “She had my mother.”
       “...your mother never told you about her?”
       Finally, Abby's eyes met his. They were wet, like iridescent sapphires. “My mother doesn't even know I'm here.” She turned away.
       “She was a nice lady,” Aden said, leaning against the tree beside her. “Both of my parents died in the war and Chaira... helped me out a lot as a kid.”
       “I wish I would have known her.”
       A silent moment wandered by. “Would you still like to see Thorndale?”
       Abby did seem to consider it. “Yes, I would.”
 

***
 
       Not far away, a disciple of the Brigade of Light knocked loudly on the doors to the Stonewall Academy.
       “Come in,” Diorus called from within.
       Nicola barged in through the doors and tried to remember the importance of being humble. “Have you any word? Do you know the whereabouts of my daughter?”
       The old man at the desk smiled. “Nicola, how nice it is to see you again.”
       “Sir, I'm sorry but...”
       Diorus interrupted him. “I don't think I've seen you here since you enrolled her four years ago.”
       Nicola lowered his head. “Her education has been exceptional.”
       “Of course not.” The man coughed and shuffled the parchment on his desk. “I just like to keep in touch with my students' life at home. All I know of you and your wife is third-hand.”
       “Abby is well cared for.”
       “Until today it seems.” The man at the desk found the whole situation humorous.
       “Sir,” Nicola began. “I came here for information. If you don't have any...”
       “I do, of course.” His smile deteriorated. “A student said she saw Abby looking at census records a week or two ago. I checked the books today myself. Someone had recently opened the Thorndale records.”
       It made sense suddenly. “My wife...” Nicola said.
       “So she is off to see lost relatives.”
       “It would seem so.”
       Diorus nodded. “Abby is a very decisive girl. I trust she learned that trait from her father.”
       Nicola spoke mostly to himself. “Why would she leave without telling us?”
       “Would she have liked the response?”
       Nicola looked straight at him. Abby would reach Thorndale and find nothing. He needed to let his wife know she was okay. “Thank you for your concern,” he said dryly and left without another word.

***

       It was nearly dark when they reached the village of Thorndale. A few scattered houses were lit up inside. All of the houses seemed to have smoking chimneys on one end. Abby wasn't sure if there was more to the village than what she saw. Perhaps there was more in the daylight.
       “This is my uncle's house,” Aden said. They neared a house that looked identical to the one not far from it. “Well, he's not really my uncle, but he knew my parents.”
       “It's lovely,” Abby said through a grimace. Aden pulled open the door-flap and they stepped inside.
       “Fynn?” Aden called. “Uncle Fynn?”
       “In here,” a voice called from around the corner.
       Abby looked around herself in amazement. The walls were made out of stone, at least up until her chest. Then an odd mix of clay and straw formed the upper-walls and roof. The air was pungent with cooked meat and smoke. There were panels of wood that acted like a floor, but dirt was clearly visible through the cracks. Two grungy-looking mats were against the wall, which she dearly hoped weren't their beds.
       Around the corner was a wooden table, a small fire and a stove-pot above. An older-looking man poked at the pot without turning to see them.
       “Where have you been all day?” he asked.
       “Around,” Aden said casually, sitting down at the table. “I found something on the way home.”
       “Yeah? What'd you find?”
       “A girl. Is it alright if she stays for supper?”
       “What?” The man, Fynn, turned around and looked peculiarly at Abby. She wasn't sure what to do.
       “Pleased to meet you,” she said uncomfortably.
       He noticed her dress, clearly out of place. “The name's Fynn.”
       “I'm Abby.”
       “Welcome to Thorndale.”
       “You can tell I'm not from around here?” she joked.
       “Well, I know the whole village. There's not a lot of us, you know.”
       “You know everyone?” Abby asked nervously. She glanced at Aden. “Did you know Chaira?”
       Fynn wiped off his hands on a dirty rag and looked at Abby a bit closer. “Of course.”
       “She... she was my grandmother.”
       Fynn, oddly, did not look surprised. “Lidye had a daughter,” he said finitely.
       Abby couldn't tell what her mother's status in this town had been. “You... don't look surprised.”
       “Why should I be?” Fynn asked. “You look just like her.” He smiled.
       “So I've heard before,” Abby said, relieved.
       Aden spoke up. “You knew Chaira had a daughter?”
       Fynn grabbed a spoon and stirred the pot. “Everyone in this village knows,” he said. “They just don't talk about it.”
       “Why not?” Both Aden and Abby asked nearly at once.
       “Well,” Fynn said resolutely. “She left.”
       “But to never speak of her again,” Aden asked. “What happened?”
       “She left at a strange time,” Fynn said. “The whole world was backwards. Many bridges were burned. Lidye left after the temple fell.”
       “What did the temple matter?” Aden asked.
       “Well...” Fynn said. He sighed loudly and turned to face them. “She was a skyborn.”
       “A skyborn?” Aden blurted. “Here?”
       Fynn continued to cook. “Thorndale was a different place then. In those days, the old temple meant something to the world.”
       “What did she do? What could she do?” Aden asked. The skyborn were a rare breed. They were people with gifts, abilities to control and manipulate the world. To think there was one raised in his village, it made his head spin.
       “Perhaps you should ask her daughter.”
       Aden looked at Abby with a new realization. “If your mother is a skyborn, then that means...”
       “Light essence,” Abby said quickly. “The power runs in my family.”
       Aden's jaw dropped. “You?”
       Abby nodded.
       “Can I see it?”
       She had been warned as a child that they gawk outside of the city. It wouldn't hurt to demonstrate, though.
       She extended her arm and focused on her palm. The light suddenly sparked in her hand. It shimmered and grew to the size or her fist. Both of the men's eyes were fixated on it as if they had never seen it before. She twirled the light around, spiraling it around her arm. She felt the familiar tingle as it brushed against her skin. This amount she could control. She'd learned carefully how to manipulate the size.
       “What is it?” Aden asked.
       “Light essence,” Abby said. “The kinetic power of the soul.”
       “Can I touch it?” Aden reached for her hand.
       “If you desire a great deal of pain,” Abby said quickly to stop him.
       He snapped his hand back. “It hurts?”
       “It hurts others, yes,” Abby said. “But it can also heal.” She clasped her palm closed and shut out the light. “I'm surprised you haven't seen it before.”
       Aden still stared at her hand. “There's nothing like that here.”
       Fynn looked at him warily. There had been, years before. “Are you hungry?” He asked them. “The stew is almost ready.”
       “Famished,” Abby said. She sat down at the table, trying to ignore the tension that had just risen in the room. Aden clearly wanted to know more about the light essence. Fynn seemed to know more than he let show. She'd been there only a few minutes but could tell that secrets separated the two.
       “I hope you like meat,” Fynn said as he handed her a bowl full of hot stew.
       “It smells delicious,” she said. She took a worried bite.
       They ate in relative silence, all three lost in thought. After the meal, Abby asked them questions about Chaira, trying to know who she was. It seemed to them that she was just a nice old woman who could make a tasty flavored syrup. There had to be a reason, though. Why had her mother left and never returned?

***
      
       A disciple of the Brigade wrapped loudly on a door in Stonewall. This time it was Nicola who answered. “What is it?” he demanded.
       “Sir, an urgent message arrived for you,” the disciple said.
       “Let me see it,” Nicola said.
       “It is at your office,” the man said. “Strictly confidential.”
       “I am on leave today,” Nicola said. “Have Joneu receive it.”
       “He has seen it and sent me here. It is a message from Brennin himself.”
       Nicola glanced back at his wife, who sat by the fire. She looked away with irritation, but waved him away. “I will be back soon,” he told her. He grabbed his cloak and followed the disciple. “This had better be important.”
       His office was several blocks away and four stories high. It always disappointed him that he was slightly out-of-breath by the time he reached the door.
       “Nicola,” Joneu said when he arrived.
       “My daughter is missing,” Nicola said. “You know I did not want to be disturbed today.”
       “Read this,” Joneu said simply. He handed Nicola a parchment that had arrived that evening from Brennin. The directions were very simple. The village of Thorndale was to be burned to the ground tomorrow morning. There were to be no survivors. “We have hours to leave if we're to make it there by morning.”
       “This is real?” Nicola asked. His hand was trembling.
       “Of course it's real,” Joneu said. He dared to laugh.
       “This is no laughing matter!” Nicola said, throwing the parchment at him. “My daughter is there! Right now!”
       “Abby?” Joneu asked.
       “She left this morning,” Nicola said, pacing to the door. “I have to get her back.”
       “You have little time,” Joneu said. “The village will be destroyed tomorrow morning.”
       “By our hand!”
       “The orders cannot be disobeyed,” Joneu said.
       Nicola pressed his palms against the door handle and closed his eyes. One poor decision could cost him his daughter's life. “I will leave immediately. Send the men at dawn. I will meet you in the woods.”
       “Nicola...”
       “Please, Joneu,” he said. “Do not call the men until daybreak.”
       “Be careful,” Joneu said.
       Nicola nodded and left quickly. He went to the stables and saddled his horse. His wife would be worried when he didn't return that night. He wanted to tell her where he was going but he couldn't imagine what he'd say.

***

       Fynn was not surprised the next morning to see Abby's father wander into the village. The thought of his daughter returning to the village must have driven him mad. He continued to hang laundry in the morning sun as if he hadn't noticed him.
       “You there,” Nicola called, rearing his horse to a stop.
       Fynn glanced over to him, but continued to work.
       Nicola's voice immediately hardened. “You will answer me when I speak to you.”
       “You're looking for the girl?” Fynn asked without turning back.
       “Yes, have you seen her?”
       Fynn shrugged. “I haven't seen her since she left, sixteen years ago.”
       “My daughter,” Nicola said sternly. “Where is Abby?”
       Fynn took a few small steps towards him. “Does it tear you apart, knowing she returned to us? Does it anger you, knowing that some families cannot be erased?”
       “If I remembered you name I could jail you for this.”
       Fynn chuckled and stepped away. “Is that where you stand now in the Brigade of Light? Did Brennin's path give you everything you desired? Power? Wealth? A beautiful daughter who doesn't know where she is from?”
       “I am not from this... squalor,” Nicola said with disgust.
       “But her mother is.”
       “Her mother followed the liberation. This town is...” It would not be there by nightfall. “... a dead end.”
       “There is more power in these woods than you know.”
       Nicola chuckled. “More power? What power? Have you ever traveled beyond the borders of Ashland? You don't even know what power is.”
       “Abby will return to you when she is ready,” Fynn said, turning around.
       The spark lit up in Nicola's hand even before he willed it. A thread of light reached out and gripped Fynn in the back. He collapsed immediately to his knees. “Do not turn your back on me!” Nicola growled. “Tell me where my daughter is!”
       The pain was liquid through his entire body. Fynn could only remember why they had lost the war. There was no armor to stop the pain. There was no stopping a determined skyborn. They were not human at all. They were above others entirely.
        “The temple ruins! They left this morning,” Fynn gasped.
       Nicola released him. The spark of light died in his palm. “Pathetic.”
       He turned the horse towards the temple ruins and kicked it hard to a run. The morning light was bright. The brigade would be there in hours.

***

       “Honestly, I don't feel anything,” Abby said. She was sitting on the broken steps with her eyes closed.
       Aden was crouched next to her, staring at her as if she were about to glow. “Are you sure? They say that skyborn magic is more powerful here, more connected or something.”
       Abby winced and opened her eyes, “I'm sorry.”
       “Well,” Aden said, sitting down on the step next to her. “At least you got to see it.”
       “It's very pretty,” Abby agreed. “Do you know anything about it?”
       “About the temple?”
       “Yes, like where things were or how many columns there were?”
       Aden shrugged. “I can imagine, but I don't know.”
       “That's too bad,” Abby said. “I wonder if anyone does.”
       Aden heard something moving in the woods. It was something big, moving fast and not trying to keep quiet.
       “What's wrong?” Abby asked him.
       “You hear that?”
       “A little,” she said.
       “Someone's coming this way,” he said. He took her hand. “Here, come over here.”
       As he guided her behind a half-standing wall, she asked, “Are we in danger?”
       “I... hope not,” Aden said.
       Almost immediately after they were covered, a man riding a horse broke into the clearing. He was fit, but old enough to be his father. His noble clothes were torn from the twigs and branches he'd snagged on the way. Aden had no idea what to make of this. The man looked around himself anxiously and called, “Abby?”
       Abby groaned and rubbed her fingers through her hair.
       “You know him?” Aden whispered.
       “He's my father,” Abby said.
       “Abby?” Nicola called louder.
       “Do you want to run?” Aden asked her. “I know places we can hide.”
       She grinned and considered it, but reluctantly answered, “No.” She immediately put on an excited face and jumped out from behind the wall. “Father!” She called to him.
       “Abby, thank the sky!” Nicola said with a great sigh of relief.
       “How did you know I was here?” Abby asked, skipping towards him like a little girl.
       “Never mind that,” Nicola growled, “You're coming home with me now.”
       “Are you angry?” Abby asked, feigning surprise.
       He jumped off the horse and paced towards her. “If you ever leave home like that again, I'll...” His eyes caught sight of Aden and his jaw dropped. Abby had been alone with this boy. “Who is this?” He demanded.
       “This is...” Abby started to say.
       “Aden from Thorndale,” Aden said confidently, walking towards him with his head held high.
       Nicola wanted to electrify him with light essence. The little twerp thought he was a man. Still, there was something about him that struck an odd chord. “Aden, you say? Who was your father?” He demanded.
       “Gavin,” Aden said, unsure why he was asking. “Also from Thorndale.”
       For a moment, Nicola only stared. When he spoke, it was in an entirely different tone. “Gavin, you say?”
       “He... is dead now.”
       “Your father was a great man.”
       “You knew him?” Aden asked.
       “Of course I knew him,” Nicola said. “We fought together in the liberation.”
       “My father fought with you?” Aden asked, “A skyborn?”
       The smile on Nicola's face faded. “What have they been teaching you in that village?” The sins of Thorndale were strong. He hated the village before, but to deny Gavin's son the knowledge of who his father was...
       “What do you mean?”
       Nicola reached forward and touched Aden's shoulder. “Your father was the greatest skyborn I ever knew.”
       “My father?” Aden asked. He didn't know what to say.
       “The power of levitation,” Nicola said. “There wasn't a greater fighter in these lands. He could take on twelve men at once. He was a master of blades.”
       “He was a farmer...” Aden said.
       Nicola chuckled. “Before the war. When Brennin called him to fight, he left Thorndale to liberate the land.”
       Abby stepped in. “But Aden's not a skyborn.” She thought. She looked at him. “Are you?”
       “No!” Aden said quickly.
       “Perhaps not,” Nicola said. “Your mother wasn't. She was what dragged him back to that village in the end.”
       “But he died in war...” Aden said, expecting Nicola to say otherwise.
       Nicola sighed and turned back towards his horse. “It was a dark time near the end. Gavin was... great in his prime. Love does strange things to a man.” He gestured to Abby. “Get on, we're going home.”
       As Abby climbed onto the horse, Nicola looked back at Aden and realized something. He was going to die that afternoon. He hesitated, but then offered, “Come with us, back to Stonewall. I can tell you more about your father.”
       More than anything, Aden wanted to follow him. “I'd have let my uncle know I'm going.”
       “It is not possible,” Nicola said. “You must come with us now or not at all.”
       Aden looked out into the forest towards his home. “I really shouldn't.” He grinned. “You know what it's like to have a kid run out on you.”
       Nicola face was stone. “Very well. Thank you for taking care of my daughter while she was here.” He continued to stare as he led the horse out of the clearing.
       “Bye Aden!” Abby waved.
       Aden watched them disappear into the leaves and waited until he could no longer hear the hooves pounding into the ground. He was so excited, so filled with amazement. His father was a skyborn. How had something like that been kept from him all those years? He ran into the forest and hurried home. Fynn had a lot of explaining to to.

***

       Nicola was very quiet during the ride home. Abby was expecting much more, a lecture at least, but he hadn't said a word. The horse was skittish, moving between a trot and a walk as it hopped around the tree trunks. Repeatedly, Abby had to bat away low branches before they scratched her in the face.
       “Why are we moving so fast?” Abby asked her father.
       “We have little time,” he answered.
       “Before what?”
       He did not respond, but picked up the pace significantly. Abby wondered if there was something worse waiting for her back at home. Perhaps they wanted to lecture her together.
       Was what she had done really so bad? She'd only been gone a day. Why had they worried about her? She could have told them where she was going, but then they wouldn't have let her go. The whole thing was foolish. She was a grown girl. She could look out for herself.
       “Not a word, Abby,” he said sternly, and very suddenly.
       She looked up, confused, but then noticed what he meant. There were about two dozen horses lined up before them with her father's partner, Joneu, leading the way. She recognized a few of them as skyborn. The rest carried unlit torches and bows.
       “What is this?” Abby asked her father.
       “I said not a word!”
       “What are you doing?” Abby asked him in desperation. But she already knew.
       Nicola signaled to one of his men and jumped off the horse. “Take her back to the city,” he said, handing him the reigns. “Do not let her return.”
       “Father!”
       Her horse followed the other. “Please!” She called. The horses broke into a run. “Why are you doing this!” She screamed back at him, but he was already nearly too far to hear.

***

       Fynn could tell just by looking into his eyes that he knew. There was a sense of pride in Aden's face that Fynn had not seen in sixteen years. His father had similar eyes.
       “How could you keep something like that from me?” Aden asked after Fynn told him everything. They were sitting outside the house, next to the dark laundry hanging to dry.
       “It wasn't time,” Fynn said simply. He avoided eye contact. It was harder now.
       “Wasn't time?” Aden repeated. “My father was a skyborn! That's not something you learn when you're old enough!”
       “You think he was the only one?” Fynn asked. “This village, all of us are descendants of temple guardians. Thorndale was built to house them. Before the war there were a dozen skyborn who called this place home. It is not me alone. No one here speaks of them.”
       All Aden could do was stare. “Why?”
       Fynn spoke low, “Do you wonder why there are no others here your age? The Brigade of Light took the skyborn children away.”
       “You're serious?”
       He nodded. “They put them in academies, teaching them the power of light essence alone. With all of the skyborn under a tight watch, Brennin can make sure all of them grow up to be his precious disciples.”
       “But... my father fought with them. Did he...”
       “Your father fought the oppressive powers that were present before the war. When the tide turned, so did his allegiance.”
       Aden sat back. He imagined his father, his village, everything as it had been. There was so much he hadn't known.
       He turned to Fynn. “And my mother?”
       “She fought beside him. They were a team until the end.”
       “But she was... normal?”
       Fynn smiled and seemed to hesitated before saying, “I wouldn't call her normal. She had her gifts, but they were unlike your father's.”
       Aden sighed. “It's because of her I'm like this.”
       “Like what?” Fynn asked with a chuckle.
       Aden didn't see the humor. “I'm not a skyborn.”
       Fynn's smile faded. He studied the boy next to him, unsure. After a long thought, he touched Aden's shoulder. “Fetch me something in the house.”
       “What?”
       “In the crate beneath my cot there's a small wooden box. Inside you'll find a pendant on a chain. Bring it here.”
       Aden jumped up and ran inside. Fynn had always told him to stay out of that box. He had of course peeked inside as a child to see what he was hiding. It was a gold pendant with a shard of a red gem in the center. Fynn was going to give it to him. He should have been excited, but he was more anxious, a little nervous.
       He found the pendant quickly and held it in his hand. Something about it made him feel safer, as if everything was going to turn out alright.
       Outside, a noise shook the earth and rattled the wall. It was an explosion, something utterly loud and close.  A cold fear gripped Aden's chest. He'd never heard a sound that loud and sudden his entire life!
       He scrambled out of the house to see what had happened. Smoke was billowing high to the treetops. A family was screaming. He couldn't tell who it was. The whole village gathered quickly to see what had happened.
       Another scream sounded in the trees. Aden glanced quickly and saw small smoking satchels hurled through the air.
       “Watch out!” Fynn screamed. He was next to him and pulling him down.
       All around them, the world exploded. Aden covered his ears. Four blasts shattered buildings around them. Half of their house was destroyed. Pieces of stone and clay flew in all directions. More smoke covered the sky. After, a rain of fire-tipped arrows sailed in through the trees. Horse hooves pounded towards them.
       “What's happening!” Aden yelled.
       “I don't know,” Fynn gasped. More screams sounded on the other end of the village. Aden looked up in horror to see what was coming.
       Several horses were parading down on them, each man holding a bloody blade. Villagers he'd known his entire life were slashed into, cut open. Some of them tried to fight, grabbing what tools they could, but each of them were stabbed or shot with arrows. Aden couldn't look away. It was too unreal. This wasn't his home.
       “Aden!” Fynn screamed, pulling hard on his arm. “Aden, come here!”
       Aden looked at him, Fynn who was not cut open. What was happening?
       “Aden!” Fynn yelled again, pushing him into the house.
       One arrow shot towards them, it struck solid and hard into something. Fynn immediately yelped and collapsed into Aden's arms. Aden could barely breathe.
       He pulled Fynn into the house. The roof was on fire. “Fynn! Are you alright?” Aden's words were desperate. He wasn't. There was an arrow in his back.
       “Aden,” Fynn said weakly. “Put on the pendant.”
       He slipped it over his head obediently and couldn't look away. Fynn's face was contorted, his eyes different than he'd ever seen before. “Fynn, what... what can I do?”
       “Leave me,” he said, then coughed badly. “You must escape.”
       His head was shaking and his eyes were wet. “I'm taking you with.”
       “You must go,” Fynn said. He coughed again and blood came up.
       “Where?” Aden asked. “What's happening?”
       Fynn shook his head. “You must go to them,” he said, straining. “Ask them to live.”
       Two horses stomped passed the door. A woman was screaming nearby.
       “Fynn, I can't...”
       “Listen,” Fynn said with new strength. “You are not normal, Aden. Neither was your mother.”
       “What?” Aden asked. His heart was beating loudly through his chest.
       “She was a skyborn. Only two...” It was hard for him to speak. “Two others know this.”
       What are you saying?” What kind of power would be hidden?
       “The power... of persuasion.
       “Persuasion?” Aden asked.
       Fynn closed his eyes. “Go to them. Ask them to live.”
       “Fynn, I can't...”
       “Touch them,” Fynn said. “Ask them to live.”
       “Fynn!” Aden screamed. “I'm asking you to live!”
       Fynn smiled weakly. “Even skyborn magic is not that strong.” Then his body collapsed completely.
       Aden closed his eyes and heard everything around him. Fires cackled loudly. The screams were softer now. There were less of them. He let Fynn go gently and stood up. The roof would collapse in any moment.
       His hands were shaking. None of this made sense. Fynn was dead. He was lying in front of him. More than anything he wanted to stay but there wasn't time. He couldn't stay. Fear was swarming inside him but now something new was ignited with the flames. It was anger. Someone had burned his village to the ground.
       He opened the flap to his door and looked outside. Who were these men? Who was responsible? There were three horses by the bell tower. Two of them he didn't recognize. The third he did. With a sharp pain of betrayal, he realized who was responsible. It was Abby's father.
       An arrow planted itself in his shoulder. Aden screamed. It was burning, a pain unimaginable. Someone had shot him! He screamed again and ripped the arrow out. Right after, another arrow missed and hit the door frame. There wasn't time!
       He ran forward, straight to Nicola as fast as he could. He ignored the pain and screams as he ran. He didn't look around himself. This was no longer his home. He needed to survive.
       Nicola did not even see him coming. Aden grabbed for his wrist and gripped him tightly. When their eyes met, Aden said firmly. “Spare my life.”
       His heart skipped in horror when he felt nothing. There was no magic or power. He had sprinted into the bed of conflict for no reason. He was going to be killed.
       “I'm sorry,” Nicola murmured grimly. “It is no longer possible.”
       “Spare my life,” Aden repeated again. This was his only hope.
       One of the men noticed Aden. “Sir!” He yelled.
       “Hold!” Nicola commanded, raising his hand to stop him. Both of the men stared at Aden. Two others took notice.
       “What are you doing?” Another asked, walking his horse slowly towards them. There was command in his voice, too.
       “Joneu, this boy is Gavin's son.”
       “We have orders.”
       “I cannot kill Gavin's son!”
       Joneu walked his horse forward in irritation. “Then I shall.”
       Nicola's sword swung forward and held itself in front of Joneu's neck. “Do not touch him!”
       Joneu's eyes were wide. He growled through clenched teeth, “You dare raise a sword to me?”
       “You forget your place,” Nicola said. “They are my orders to carry.”
       “Think about what you are doing!”
       “Gavin was a friend who did not deserve to die,” he said finitely. “The least I can do is spare his son.” He looked down at Aden. “Hop on, boy. Quickly.”
       Aden scrambled up onto the horse with him.
       “Finish the job,” Nicola said to Joneu. “I will meet you later at the office.”
       As the horse moved away, Joneu called his men to continue. Nicola said nothing.
       They walked slowly out of the village. The trees were filled with smoke. Flames leapt to the sky. Only the bell tower still stood.
       There were no screams anymore. Everyone was dead. The entire village had been slaughtered and somehow Aden was walking out calmly. Had it been magic? Or had Nicola spared his life?
       Neither said a word the entire ride back. Aden couldn't say anything. He couldn't even think. His whole world had been destroyed and he was riding with the man responsible. Nothing made sense anymore.
       He thought hard about everything as they traveled. He wanted to believe that Nicola was good, but how could anyone do this? What kind of friends had he and his father been? Why had his father switched sides near the end of the war? Why was Nicola now a high-ranking officer of the Brigade and his father was dead?
       Sixteen years can change a man. Even if he sparred Aden's life, he still killed everyone else. Even if he had been friends with his father, he still burned Thorndale to the ground. Nothing would change that. And even though Aden was clinging to Nicola for balance as his horse rode them to safety, he was certain that would find a way, someday, to kill him for what he had done.

***

       Diorus sat in his office, writing a vapid letter to the academy in Glasbury. Late afternoon on a weekday, there was often little to do and the halls were usually quiet. He found it odd to hear a rapping at his door.
       “Come in,” he called.
       The door opened slowly and he reached for his glasses to see who it was. “Nicola?” He asked with a smile. “I didn't expect to see you back. You do bring good news I hope?”
       He nodded. “Abby is safe at home. You will see her tomorrow.”
       Someone else followed him into the room. It was a boy, rather, a young man. He was dressed very poorly, in both the quality of his clothes and his cleanliness. He seemed to be shaken, as if he had been through a great ordeal.
       “And who is this?” Diorus asked.
       “This is a new student,” Nicola said, then more gently, “I hope.”
       “A skyborn?” Diorus asked, standing up to get a better look at him. When neither responded, he asked, “No?”
       “No,” the boy said. He looked Diorus right in the eye. “Sir.”
       “Well,” Diorus raised an eyebrow. “You do know this is a skyborn academy...”
       “I know,” Nicola said. “I was hoping he could stay in the dormitories... perhaps take your other classes.”
       “Nicola, if he is does not have the gift, he cannot be part of it.”
       The boy suddenly reached forward and touched his shoulder. “Please,” he said, looking at him again. His eyes were dark. They'd seen a great deal of pain. “I can work or clean. I'll do anything...”
       Diorus noticed a tear in the boy's shirt, right over his shoulder. There was dried blood around the edges. What had this boy been through? Nicola's silence was unnerving. There would be no wound of course. He would not have brought a wounded boy to his academy, at least not a physical wound.
       “Have you a name?” He asked the boy.
       He removed his hand cautiously from Diorus' shoulder. “My name is Aden, son of Gavin from Thorndale.”
       Diorus raised his eyebrows and looked to Nicola, who averted his eyes. He looked back to Aden. Should he take Gavin's boy into the academy?
       He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “You may sleep here, Aden. We have room in the dormitories.”
       An immense relief was immediately evident in the boy. “Thank you, sir.”
       He made his way back to the desk and spoke to Nicola, “Take his things to the dormitories. Ask the students there for Ian. He has an extra bed in his quarters and Aden can stay there.” Nicola nodded in understanding. “Aden, I expect to see you tomorrow morning after sunrise. I will have a list of chores for you to do.”
       “Of course,” Aden said without remorse. “Thank you again, sir.”
       They turned to leave, but Diorus continued. “And Aden...” The boy turned quickly. Diorus hesitated. How had he allowed this? He took a breath and gave him a friendly smile. “Welcome to Stonewall Academy.”




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