From Iron and Ruin

Visitor

Unedited.

Chapter Thirteen: Visitor.

Most nights, whilst surrounded by candles, I poured over reports and books to better my knowledge of Cadelith and its customs. I felt like I was always a step behind, an expert in all that a Dratlan Elf needed to know, but always an ignorant Half-Blood in the eyes of the lords. 

 Time for myself was rare and I took training sessions with other soldiers as that time, even when I was heaving with exertion and wishing for my bed.

Asthan had unsettled all of us and training was far more rigorous than it had been before. The Magins in our army were put through more grueling physical sessions and despite Fyr's expertise, I had forced her to join in on them. 

It amused Gwen greatly to see the tiny Magister slogging through wades of icy water and carrying weights on her shoulders. She had offered to spar with the Magister, but because I didn't want to see Fyr's head accidentally caved in, I declined.

In that time, Greydon had returned to Shaldorn and I missed his company in Adotlan. The man seemed to fill any room he was in with light and laughter. Mahon always seemed happier when he was around too.

Then there was the expansion of the Legion. While my veins hummed silver unwillingly, the Legion crept further and further out into Cadelith. Which meant meetings. Planning. Strict time-lines and quotas to be filled.

Mahon was loving every second of it.

I could tell. That man was un-natural.

"Our soldiers move through Sighun unhindered, Seeker." Mahon motioned to hilly lands on the map. From the reports I had poured over while soaking my bruised body in a hot bath, I understood it to be a dismal place of rain, shadow, and goats.

"Though," I thought, looking out the window. "Adotlan is rain and shadow tonight."

I pitied the guards on duty tonight. The rain fell so hard tonight that I could hear it striking the balcony outside when I was preparing for bed; well, I had been and then council had been called and I was forced to hurry through the hallways, dressed in a rough-spun tunic and leather pants, my hair wet and heavy as it knotted its way down my back.

"Good. I saw that they reported Nirani activity." I took a drink of cold tea. The kitchens kept a little sealed pot of frost-berries for me because I snuck down so often to get a mug of tea during the night. I don't know how they found out, but the head-cook was a wily woman. "If Aran is to be believed, then the Insurgent is looking for the next tablet and if he finds it, all will be lost."

"We will keep looking," Kohen promised. "I have men and faces in the shadows that are searching for whispers."

"It took the Insurgent centuries to rouse and find even one tablet." Fyr assured me. "We have time."

"I don't think we do. He's making up for lost time." I said. "Every day, we wake up, striving to make a difference. Fyr is learning Ekini from what translations I can give her. From what I've transcribed from the broken Dratlan tablet, it speaks of a land of deep magic and four ethereal leaders. That must be the Abyss but from what I have seen, it is a land of rot and ruin."

"And your marks symbolise the Joining of Worlds." Fyr pointed to them and I curled my fingers over them self-consciously. "Which refers to the Abyss. Your magic lets your speak its language. The Nirani come from the Abyss. Everything returns to it. To understand the Insurgent, we must understand it better."

"I don't understand any of this." Gwen huffed. "Why can't enemies just be simple nowadays?"

"That's life, Gwen. I suggest you open your eyes." Mahon commented dryly.