Stealing Sorcery (47 page)

“I’m still not clear on how I could have replaced someone else’s destiny. You’re implying that this is a future that was supposed to come to be, but will not, because I’m doing something that someone else was supposed to do…but that this other person is still somehow aware of you, or both of us?”

“Yes.”

Gods, that’s…she’s…Infuriatingly vague.

Okay, calm down. She has trouble perceiving individual moments in time. I need to be reasonable and try to converse in a way that is convenient for her.

“Okay. Why are you concerned about the dream?”

Asphodel’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “Because you are one of the few elements that have changed. He may not die there, but elements of the vision remain true.”

Taelien shivered, recalling a fragment of memory.
Legions of corpses wandering the streets, slaughtering those that still lived.

“And you want to know more so that you can prevent it from happening?”

Asphodel frowned, turning her head toward him while she continued to walk. “No. I must learn how to set destiny upon its proper course.”

Taelien stopped walking. “Okay, stop. We need to have a more direct conversation about this.”

Asphodel turned, giving him a quizzical look. “Yes?”

“The city being filled with walking corpses is not an acceptable outcome, regardless of what your visions tell you.”

The Delaren girl tilted her head downward, giving him a dangerous look. “You saw this because of your proximity to me. It was a gift of knowledge to be shared between us – not to be abused.”

“I don’t see the purpose of foreknowledge if we don’t make use of it to make a better future.”

“No. That is – that is not our way. We see the way of the world, we ensure it is properly guided. To deviate from that path is to invite disaster.”

She put her hands to the side of her head, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples.

“Disaster? I have a hard time envisioning something worse than dead men and women walking around and assaulting the living.”

Her eyes fluttered open. For an instant, he thought he saw them gleam green, like the eyes of the man who watched them. “The complete annihilation of all things, Taelien. That is what is at risk if we deviate too far from our intended paths.”

Taelien folded his arms. “That’s a more solid answer, at least – but still lacking in sufficient detail. Who would cause this destruction to happen? And how?”

Asphodel closed her eyes again, raising a finger across her lips. She inhaled deeply. “You would, Taelien. You would destroy us all.”

“I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t do that.” He tapped the hilt of his blade. “Existence is nice. I rather like it here.”

Asphodel turned her gaze toward the dirt. “It is not certain – but it is what Kolask saw. A possible path.”

The swordsman frowned. “Kolask? She has dreams like these?”

“Only those who are near me dream in this way. It is part of what makes me an oracle. In your local terms, one would say that I am a caller of dreams bound with the key to destiny. This is a part of my gift, but a part that I do not experience myself.”

Which is why you wanted me to sleep near you – you wanted to know what I would see if I was exposed to your sorcery.

“And when Kolask dreamed, she saw me somehow destroying the world?”

“Not just this world. Many worlds – perhaps all worlds.”

“That’s…well, I suppose I should be flattered?”

“It is not a compliment.”

Taelien sighed. “Clearly that dream contradicts my own dream – which showed me being dead – and your own observations that I’m somehow replacing someone else. So, these visions aren’t exact. They can be wrong.”

“The dream visions show the current path that destiny takes. But destiny may deviate from the path that fate ascribes.”

The swordsman raised an eyebrow. “The path that fate ascribes? So, you’re implying that there’s a single way that things are meant to be, but that things are already not going as planned.”

She nodded once.

“So, what dictates the path that is ‘meant’ to be?”

Asphodel shook her head. “That is not for us to know. It is the will of the gods.”

“Which gods?”

“Chiefly Kelryssia, given that she is the Mistress of Destiny, though I do not know if she weaves this pattern deliberately or if she is merely the medium by which destiny asserts its own will.”

I probably should ask her why someone who believes in a different set of gods is trying to join a paladin order, but this might not be the best time.

Taelien rubbed the left side of his head. “Okay. So, what set destiny off its course in the first place, then? Shouldn’t destiny be immutable? I mean, that’s what makes it destiny, right?”

“I do not know. That is why I am here. I hoped your dreams would give answers, but they lead only to more questions.”

Well, that at least we can agree on.

“Okay. We should tell the others about this.”

Asphodel shook her head once. “No. I have said too much already.”

“If destiny is already off its course, I think we need to consult people who could help.”

“Every word is another step away from the path.”

Taelien sighed. “Fine, but sometimes stepping out of the way can lead you to a new route.”

Asphodel’s eyes narrowed, but she remained quiet for several moments, apparently considering. “You are not wrong.”

“I’ll keep this in confidence for the moment. But at a minimum, I think we should talk to Lydia. A knowledge sorcerer would be a good resource for learning more about what is happening – and how much we might be failing to interpret these visions.”

“I will consider your plan.”

Asphodel turned, beginning to walk back toward the camp.

Consider it all you want. I’ve already made my choice.

***

When they returned to the camp, Taelien knew he still had hours until the briefing for the next test began. Asphodel returned with him, her crystalline hair shimmering brightly in the morning light. They exchanged no more words on the journey back – he judged that she had just as much to think about as he did.

Slipping quietly into their tent, he laid down on the cot. He had no intent to sleep, but he hoped that a couple hours of closing his eyes might help to mitigate the growing pain in his side.

Even that effort proved in vain. The smells of cooking outside, the light of day, and the sounds of the laughter and chatter around the tent were too much of a disruption. Every effort to turn his mind inward met with repeated interruptions.

Sitting up, he laid the Sae’kes across his lap and glanced at each of his comrades. Velas looked to be sleeping blissfully, cradling her quarterstaff in her arms like a lover. Landen had somehow managed to find a pillow – none of the other cots seemed to have them – and had laid it over the top of his face, presumably to block out the light.

He could barely make out what he thought to be Asphodel’s shadow outside the tent, indicating that she was sitting with her back against the fabric near the door.

Lieutenant Torrent was still awake and alert, quietly reading a book with a disinterested expression. He had made no reaction when Taelien returned from his walk, and if he knew Taelien was observing him, he displayed no semblance of care.

Taelien’s grip tensed around the hilt of his sword, mirroring the tension in the muscles in his back. Waiting patiently had never been among his talents.

Minutes rolled into hours – hours that Taelien suspected were more than the four they had been allotted. Garrick eventually slammed his book shut, rousing a groaning Landen from his rest.

The swordsman of twin blades sat, dislodging his pillow, and took in his surroundings. He looked once at Taelien, and then back to Velas’ still sleeping form – and then lifted his pillow and tossed it at her.

The pillow missed entirely, hitting the canvas near Velas’ head. Startled, she rolled out of the cot, hitting the floor and pushing herself into something resembling a defensive kneel with her staff.

“What the fuck was that?”

Even Garrick laughed, but Landen laughed hard enough that his face reddened – pausing only when Velas abandoned her staff to begin bludgeoning him with the pillow.

Garrick set his book down, standing and folding his arms. “Okay, you two, save your flirting for the road. You’re going to have plenty of time for pillow games over the next few days.”

Velas got one last hit in before Landen wrested the pillow away and tossed it into a corner of the tent. Taelien found himself in the unprecedented position of looking more professional than the rest of his platoon mates.

Asphodel re-entered the tent, saluting immediately. “Sir.”

“At ease, Asphodel. Have a seat. This briefing is going to take a while.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Asphodel sat, Lieutenant Torrent opened the chest next to his cot and began to retrieve supplies from within. He thrust a rolled scroll at Landen, and then retrieved a crystalline vial filled with bluish liquid and what looked like a rune-etched stick.

“Unfurl that on the floor,” he instructed Landen, who immediately began to comply. Torrent uncapped the vial, pouring it across the surface of the stick. The liquid flickered and steamed when it struck the surface of the wood. He rotated the stick, allowing the liquid to fill the carved grooves in the surface. When the liquid was exhausted, he shook the stick in the air, grimaced, and then offered it to Velas.

She nodded, taking the object and tucking it in a pouch at her side.

“For those of you who don’t know, that’s her emergency signal. Velas has the highest cumulative leadership scores within the platoon, and thus she will be your platoon’s commander for this assignment. I trust you will treat her with more respect than you give me.” He grinned, running a hand through his short hair.

Landen had finished unfurling the scroll, which proved to be a large map.

Garrick walked over to the map, sitting down next to where it had been laid across the floor of the tent. “This is a map of the region. We’re about twelve miles northwest of Velthryn right now on the border of the Lisanth Forest.” He jabbed a finger at an unmarked spot near the bottom corner nearest him. “You’re here now. And you’re going to be visiting these seven,” he began pointing to several marked spots within the forest, “locations. You have six days to make the entire trip.”

“What are we doing at these sites?” Velas asked, leaning forward with her eyes focused on the map.

“These are sacred shrines to each of the seven gods of the Tae’os Pantheon. At each shrine you will find a basin filled with purified water from the divine spring. Your objective on this mission is to drink from the water of each of the seven shrines and then return within the time limit.”

Sounds too easy.
Taelien withheld his commentary for the moment, knowing it was not his turn to speak.

“I take it this will be more than a simple stroll?” Velas asked, leaning closer to the map and tracing a finger along one of the trails.

“It will be up to you to determine a route that can get you to each of the shrines and back within the time limit. And yes, there are a few minor complications. He leaned backward across the tent, tapping a fist on the side. “Gentlemen, please come in.”

Taelien heard shuffling outside, followed by the tent flap opening. Four young men – squires, Taelien realized from their tabards and sigils – entered. Each was carrying a freshly polished steel cuirass.

“Congratulations, candidates. You’re being dressed in a paladin’s armor for the first time. Stand and let the squires begin fitting you.”

Taelien and the other candidates stood, sharing pained looks. Hiking in armor was going to be a huge pain – which was, of course, the point.

The squires set the cuirasses down on the nearby cots, retreating and returning with more armor pieces – gambesons, steel vambraces and greaves, leather caps and chain coifs. Torrent continued to explain the mission while the squires assisted the candidates with putting on their new sets of armor. After the armor pieces had been put on, the squires helped the candidates move their pins from the earlier tests over to new tabards, which they wore over the armor.

“You’ll need to wear the armor during your travel. You’ll each be given a travel backpack with minimal food supplies and water, as well as a bedroll. No tents – you’ll sleep in structures you construct or beneath the stars. I’d advise the former, since it tends to rain in the forest, and you should expect it to be cold at the higher altitudes.”

Grinning, Garrick stood up and pointed a thumb outside the tent. “Oh, and one of you is going to have to carry the pennant.”

Taelien rolled his eyes.
At least we don’t need to wear full helms.

When each of the candidates was done being suited, the squires brought each of them a broader sword belt designed to be worn around their armor. Taelien unfastened the Sae’kes from his usual belt and attached the scabbard to his new belt alongside the standard steel sword it already carried.

“That’s fine if you want the extra weight,” Torrent said, “But if you should encounter any ‘surprises’ along your journey, make sure to use the standard issue sword.”