Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts (14 page)

Dragor leaned forward and asked, “Faded?”

Silbane nodded. “Anything near Arek tends to have its magical aura suppressed. We don’t know why. Further, it persists for some time even after Arek leaves the area, like the ground after a rainstorm, slowly drying in the sun. I apprenticed Arek early to try and understand the reasons, for it could have great value in hiding us from persecution.” He paused, then added, “In this I have not made much progress.”

Kisan looked back at the lore father and asked, “This is the reason you brought up his apprentice?”

“Yes,” Themun replied. “Closing the Gate falls to us. To ensure that, no sacrifice is too great. Getting to Bara’cor undetected, past whomever or whatever is helping the nomads, is critical. Staying out of the demon’s notice if the Gate is open is paramount. Arek guarantees these things.”

Silbane shook his head. “Themun, I can’t do this.”

Themun looked at his longtime friend, noting in his eyes what his mind already knew. “Yes, you can, and that frightens you. You know risking Arek to keep our existence safe and close this Gate is choosing life for the land and her people.”

The anguish in Silbane’s eyes told Themun he had guessed right, but his voice softened when he asked, “He seeks to become an adept, does he not? What oath will he take then? Will it be the same one you and I took, pledging our fealty and service to this land? You think him young, but he may wish to stand by his pledge of service, though he has not yet achieved the Black.”

Silbane forced a laugh. “Then test him! Promote him to adept and let him reaffirm the Oath! Will that not be better?”

Themun’s eyes hardened, “We do not know what will happen when spells are cast
at
him. What if he is incapacitated, or killed? Gone will be any chance of achieving this mission.”

“Wait,” said Thera, hesitancy in her voice, like an instinct that something was not being said. “What do you mean? Silbane acts as if his apprentice is doomed, when all you’ve asked is they investigate the Gate. Can they not achieve that and return easily?” The rest of the adepts nodded, Thera’s question a valid one.

Themun looked at Silbane. A moment passed and finally the lore father said, “If you wish me to state Silbane’s orders fully so there is no confusion, fine.” Themun met Silbane’s gaze unflinchingly and said, “If it is open, he will use Arek to close the Gate.”

Shock followed that last statement and Thera leapt to her feet. “What will happen to the boy?”

Themun looked at Thera and said simply, “The
initiate
may be in danger, but he is not helpless, and his master accompanies him.”

“You know what is likely,” Silbane responded. “He will either die, or be trapped on the other side of the Gate, in Lilyth’s world.” Then he looked meaningfully at the lore father and said, “And you seem quite sure his touch won’t open the Gate further. How can you suggest something so potentially disastrous?”

Themun answered, “Arek’s power has never increased magic, nor created more from less. That would be like saying soaking cloth in water creates more water than when you started. Clearly that does not happen.”

“But you don’t know.”

He held his hand up to Silbane and said, “Yes, I do. Arek does not increase or magnify magic in any way whatsoever. He has
never
done so. The only thing he does is nullify it. You know this better than any of us.”

The council remained silent, but Silbane didn’t have an answer to that. What the lore father said was true, for he had never seen his apprentice create anything, only disrupt the Way with his touch.

Kisan raised a hand, her head bowed in thought. When she looked up again, one could see the sincerity in her eyes. “Danger is our job...
all of us.
Even our apprentices, for they have the freedom to leave with coin in their pockets if they do not wish to remain here. Some leave of their own accord and still we give them every means to survive, should they choose that path. Others choose to stay.”

She looked at Silbane and said, “I would ask we consider what indecision will mean to the people of Edyn. We cannot hesitate to seal a wound because of the pain. Doing so will only cause the patient to die.”

“Then should we not give
him
this choice?” Thera implored. “Service is our oath. Danger is a by-product, and we accept this risk. Even if Arek’s touch can close this Gate, Themun is asking the boy to go in blind, not knowing the possible consequences. Should he be sacrificed for the greater good?”

“You speak of sacrifice and forget those who have not yet been born. Do they not deserve better than this? Have we not killed in the past?” Kisan retorted, looking around the council chamber. “The mistakes of the Old Lords are well known to us. When they failed in their duty, how many innocent children—and
parents
—died in the war and the persecutions that followed? Who killed them?”

Kisan looked at each adept before speaking. “We did. Our arrogance caused Lilyth’s blight on the land and the resulting persecutions against us. Now we hesitate again, much as the First Council must have done. Had they the benefit of hindsight, would they have hesitated with the life of one initiate? I doubt not, seeing the price it would exact.” She paused, then intoned, “A fool expects the same song to end on a different note.”

Thera shook her head at this, looking down and saying, “I cannot believe I am hearing this. Have we become so fearful we sacrifice our own at the slightest hint of danger? Is that easier than thinking?”

Kisan looked at Thera, exasperation in her eyes. “What option is left to us? If closing the Gate means sacrificing lives, or even
one
life, you are against it?”

“What if it were Piter?” she retorted.

Kisan sat back, disbelief written plainly on her face. She did not say anything, but Silbane could see on her face that her mind worked quickly against the sudden reversal brought on by Thera’s words. What would she do if it were Piter? Perhaps a part of her began sympathizing with Silbane’s plight. She grew silent, apparently not trusting herself to answer immediately.

Thera continued, her voice a mixture of disbelief and anger, now directed at all the assembled adepts, “I cannot believe what I have just heard from this ‘council’.” Her words fell like acid. “We pledge ourselves to the service of the land. ‘Shields and blades, healers and spirit,’ these words are part of our oath, but at the first hint of trouble, we offer our children as acceptable casualties. I—”

“Enough!” Themun exclaimed, his voice like thunder. “Do you not understand?” He slammed his staff into the ground in frustration. “You were ever cautious, Thera, from the day my father rescued you till now, always holding back! That is why you sit as adept, and not yet a full master, though you have twice the teachings of anyone here. Do you think this day is one of simple problems and easy solutions?”

Thera looked down, abashed by Themun’s words. Her will was strong though and in a voice supported by her convictions, she continued, “I know you think me yielding and soft, but after a storm, it is the whiplash tree that remains standing. As for this, I cannot in good conscience agree.”

She looked at the gathered adepts, then back at the lore father. “I excuse myself,” she said softly. She made her way to the large double doors and stopped. She kept her back to Themun and dropped her head, but her voice echoed throughout the large chamber. “Your father would be ashamed of you.” Themun stepped forward, but before he could say anything, the doors opened and she swept out of them in a swirl of black hair and blue silk.

As the doors shut again, Themun stood in silence. Silbane knew it did not bode well for them that Thera had left and yet he also knew the lore father couldn’t bring himself to blame her, no matter how her words had hurt him.

Themun turned to the remaining adepts, anger in his eyes. “Does anyone else share Thera’s dilemma? If so, you should excuse yourselves as well. Lay down this burden and share not in the load. Make your lives easier, stand aside, and decide you cannot sacrifice your own comfort and moral certitude for
service.

“This is the hard path, the path of the Way. This is a day where we must all make difficult choices, and for that I need only those who can bear the weight. I need those willing to serve.”

When no one stepped forward, his features softened. He looked down, but when his head rose, the remaining adepts could see the weariness, fear, and sadness that framed Themun’s face. With a sigh, he said, “These are trying times. I hold no anger at Thera, except for the delays in judgment her doubt will surely cause. We do not have the luxury of time, or being sure of ourselves.”

He sighed, then his voice came out with the certainty of the lore father of this council, “We prepare for Silbane and Arek’s journey. Equip the initiate to give him the best chance of surviving.”

Giridian said, “What of his ability to disrupt magic? While it is the reason for him going, nothing we give him can withstand his touch.”

“Not all the objects in the lower Vaults require physical contact,” Silbane offered. “Perhaps we can find something that will aid Arek by its very presence.”

Kisan asked Silbane, “And what will you tell him? How will you explain you are taking him into a siege?”

“You can suggest that this is part of his training,” Giridian suggested. “It seems cruel, but it would keep him near you, and obedient.”

Silbane scoffed. “Arek is powerless, not stupid. When we arrive at Bara’cor, he will look at me as though I’ve lost my mind.”

“Perhaps,” Kisan answered, “but to be blunt, who cares? By then he will stay near you to stay safe.”

Themun waited, but no answer came from Silbane. Then, he carefully said, “I have an idea. Perhaps what I suggest will also help keep Arek alive.” The gathered adepts looked at the lore father, who said one word, “Rai’stahn.”

Silbane looked in shock at the lore father, “How will that help Arek?”

Themun looked at Silbane and said, “I cannot speak to what a dragon will do or say, only that if there is another way to close a rift, Rai’stahn will know it.”

Silbane pursed his lips, deep in thought. It was a slim chance centered on the ancient creature’s willingness to participate. He looked at the lore father and asked, “And you think Rai’stahn will help?”

To this Themun smiled. “I am not without some influence, and as I recall the dragon owes me a favor. I will send word you wish to speak to him.”

Silbane nodded, but his attention was caught again by a wavering in the air, a displacement. He took a deep breath and reached for the Way, intending to open his Sight.

“Silbane, a moment of your time, please,” Themun interrupted. “You must keep, as your foremost concern, the Gate and the danger it represents. You must keep Arek with you to remain masked to anyone’s scrutiny.”

“You mean keep Arek alive until Silbane knows the Gate exists, then push his apprentice through and hope for the best.” This came from Giridian, the comment uttered before he could help himself. “I agree we must verify the Gate’s existence, but the boy... it does not sit well with me,” he added by way of apology.

Silbane nodded in agreement, looking again for the sign of that
something,
but it was gone. It was so slight and faint, it truly could be his imagination. It was not a warding, of that he was certain. He decided to keep quiet for now and instead said, “Nor I, but the lore father has presented a plan that may work. What do we know of what a true dragon can do? What is beyond its capabilities? Because of this, I am willing to do my part.”

Giridian slowly shook his head. He seemed surprised at Silbane’s acceptance. Perhaps to him it brought to mind the desperate actions of a drowning man clinging to a flimsy branch, a branch the lore father had offered. Yet, though the thought disturbed him greatly, he too, said nothing. Something did not ring true with this sudden promise of the dragon’s aid.

Themun looked to Silbane and said, “You will make plans to leave as soon as possible.”

“And what of Arek? How will you tell him he’s going into a war zone?” asked Silbane.

“I won’t,” Themun said simply.
“You
will. Speak with your apprentice, explain what he needs to know of our plan. Do not speak of how you intend to close the Gate. For all other matters, there is no need to lie to him. He, too, is a servant of this land, as the oath he took requires.”

Gathering himself, Themun addressed the adepts around him. “I thank each of you for your guidance. We will prepare for Silbane’s departure.” With a single rap of his black runestaff, he closed the meeting.

* * * * *

The first to exit the room was Kisan, the air swirling in the wake of her hasty departure. In a moment, the chamber was empty, save for the lore father and Giridian. Themun felt, rather than saw, the latter come to stand beside him.

Giridian cleared his throat, voicing a concern that had not left him since Thera’s departure. “This is harder on Thera than the rest of us.”

“You think so?” Themun looked away. “I have asked Silbane to sacrifice his apprentice to close the Gate. Are Thera’s feelings somehow more important than his, or his young apprentice’s life?”

Giridian looked at the lore father, not knowing exactly what to say. “Of course not... though at these times is it not more important for us to be united?”

Themun looked at the burly adept and asked, “Are we not? You worry about Thera, who even now wonders if she acted correctly.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “Do you know what she did after seeing her parents killed? As we moved the villagers to shelter and bedded down for the night, she called upon the earth and eradicated her village. Not a hut, stone, tree, bush, or blade of grass remained, and she was just five years old. She chooses to nurture this world and make it a better place for the living. We need people like her, so Edyn can continue to flourish.”

“I had no idea she had such power,” Giridian replied.

Themun nodded, and said, “She will come to a place where she can either support our decisions, or not. Regardless, she will feel justified, and we can all stand by
that
decision. Thera is the lucky one. Her fortitude will be unwavering exactly because of the challenges placed on her. We should all be so lucky to earn that kind of conviction.”