The Fifth Star - Chapter 2 (2/2) - Illusions of Loyalty

The hour had grown exceedingly late by this point, the sky just beginning to take on a hint of the coming sunrise’s colours. With naught else to be done, Darius resigned himself to going to bed. He stood slowly, his vision wavering, unsure if it was his grief or the alcohol pushing him to dizziness. He pulled the bell cord hanging in his suites to summon a servant as he did, who arrived in a few minutes. The girl who answered his call he had seen many times before. She was young and scrawny, visibly underfed, and she only met his eyes for the briefest of moments as she entered the room and bowed not one degree deeper than was strictly required. Probably some poor child forced into servitude here. I wish I could tell you that I too do not belong here. Maybe then your eyes would not be so full of fear when you meet mine.

As he expected, as soon as she spoke she had to look at him so as not to show disrespect, but hidden in that gaze was indeed fear, along with unspoken despisement. Darius hated being lumped in with the Valterians. At the least, he tried to be kinder than others.

“Could you please fetch me some hot water for a wash?” he asked, though they both would know it was not a question but an order with different phrasing.

The servant girl bowed again. “Of course, milord.”

She disappeared silently and Darius began peeling off his clothing, dampened with sweat from his tear across the city. He shivered as the cool air made contact with his bared skin, and he crossed to the hearth set into one wall of his chamber. Logs were neatly stacked within, waiting for him. With a momentary pause to gather up his aethris, Darius knelt and sent forward a lick of flame from one of his hands, catching the dry wood easily. Within moments it crackled merrily and he remained close to the fire, stark naked and letting the soothing heat soak into his skin. He may not possess the most powerful or numerous magical talents, but he was glad the two he did control were so useful.

The servant reappeared in the doorway, her hesitance apparent. Unashamed of his nudity, Darius strode over to her and relieved her of the steaming burden in her arms. It didn’t escape his notice that her eyes flickered over him, scanning his form, pausing on the largest of the scars he bore as they did. There were certainly a multitude of them, each a mark of a mistake he’d made during his training or one of his subsequent assignments, each a permanent reminder not to repeat the same again.

“You may go,” he told her, perhaps with a little more irritation in his voice than he intended. He hated looks such as the one she had given him; it was well within the abilities of the more skilled Healers to repair such scars – they were, after all, simple marks – but they wouldn’t ever expend the energy on such cosmetic issues.

She did not hesitate to follow that order, shutting the door silently behind her as she went. He slid the lock across after her and proceeded to bathe, forcing himself with sheer willpower not to think of all those people he knew, likely now feeding the vultures of Kierton. He combed out his dark hair last, knotted from the wind, and settled into his bed. It was a long time before he drifted to an uncomfortable sleep, with the sun’s rays peeking around the edge of his curtains.

He dreamt of home. Dreamt of the simple life he’d led before the Empire had changed his life completely. In his dreams he ploughed the generously sized fields, side by side with the other villagers, their names and faces blurred with the time that had passed. The feeling of the soft dark earth under his fingers as he seeded the land, and the smell of the same when the summer rains fell. The striking multitude of colours within the leaves in autumn. The homestead he had been constructing for himself and his then-fiancee to live in once they were married. Her face, beautiful in its simplicity and the kind smiles that came so easily to her lips.

And juxtaposed over it all: fire. Burning, consuming, and destroying all he had ever cared for.

 

**********

 

Darius had a few blissful moments upon waking, sleep clinging stubbornly to him as he sat up and rubbed the crust from his eyes with his knuckles. Then his head thundered tremendously like a hammer inside his skull, the hangover reminding him of where he had been last night and in turn, what he had learned. Tears came unbidden to his eyes, but were quickly subdued when a voice with more than a little irritation in its tone came through his door.

“Come Darius, don’t make me slam on this door again. I can See you in there.”

That voice startled him. He would not have known by its cadence alone who it belonged to, if it were not for the comment about Seeing; Lord Harlemont employed only two Seers to his service, and one of those two would not even exchange words with Darius unless he were directly ordered to do so. What does Karne want? It’s not like he would pay me a social visit of his own accord, he thought as he threw his legs over the side of the mattress. “I’m awake,” he called out to his visitor, “Just… give me a minute.”

Darius shook himself bodily, attempting to rid himself of the clinging remnants of sleep as he rummaged through his sizable wardrobe. As per his usual, he chose black garments of a simple cut, though to a trained eye the quality of the fabric over that of the commoners was apparent. The colourful court articles occupied barely a quarter of the available space, shoved far to the sides where he would have to make a conscious effort to select them. After so long of skulking in shadows and stalking his targets, he felt like he had an enormous painted target on his back each time he was forced to wear them, always looking over his shoulder for an incoming attacker.

Once he was dressed and his knotted mass of hair roughly combed out with his fingers, he crossed to the door and swung it open wide. Karne stood on the threshold, hand curled into a fist in preparation for another knock. He was not clad in his mage robes, which was quite unusual for any magi other than himself, as they all took quite a bit of pride in being different than the general masses. Karne stood several inches shorter than Darius, with blonde hair substantially shorter than his own but not so closely cropped that he looked a soldier in the plain brown leather tunic and leggings he wore this day.

“Ah, good, you're dressed for the job already. Wouldn't have wanted to make you change out of those gilded things I know you love so dearly,” Karne spoke with a tilted smirk as he swept past Darius into his private chambers. Even though he didn't much like the other mage, the comment made his own mouth curve upwards at the jest as he turned to face the man.

“Shut the door, would you?” Karne requested as he perched daintily on the edge of Darius's bed, his eyes scanning the room's sparse décor with open curiosity.

Darius did as he asked, but to cover the gnawing pit of anxiety at such an out of character visit, he leaned against the door after he shut it, one knee bent so his foot rested against the wood. He crossed his arms over his chest to complete the image of falsified nonchalance as he asked, “So what business brings you to me so urgently?”

Karne let out a chuckle. “Assignment from Harlemont. There's a mage-talented person we need to bring in.”

Darius's brow crinkled in confusion. “You bring them in all the time without me. What's special about this one that the regular guards won't suffice?”

“A little more finesse is required. Subtlety is not the forte of most of our soldiers, as I'm sure you're aware.”

“True enough,” he agreed. He had no interest in helping, but Karne would not be here if he had not already obtained license to use Darius for the mission at hand, and he could not simply decline to assist in Empire plans. “So where are we heading?”

“A business in the pleasure district. Crow's Nest or some such. I'm sure we'll find it easily enough.”

For the second time in as many days, Darius had to struggle to keep his face from sinking as his heart did in that moment. Gods damn them all. How did they find her?! He was grateful the door still supported his weight for his knees were like to wobble with the shock of it. Aloud, he kept his tone as level as he could. “You mean the Raven's Nest?”

Karne smirked again, “You a patron there or something?” Darius opened his mouth to reply but he continued regardless. “Yes, that was the name. Anyway, you know how common folk are; word gets around. If people see my face in there, the girl we're after is like to be hidden away so quickly we'll never set eyes on her. And once they know we're after her, she'll disappear from Valteria as we know it. Hence why I need you.”

“I live to serve,” Darius said, but his mind was reeling, scrambling for some way out of the situation. He saw no easy solution. Can I get there before we're set to leave? Send her away?

No. That's foolish. Why would she trust some complete stranger, appearing with no warning and telling her that she needs to run from everything she's ever known?

If I disguise myself as well though… she'd never need to know I was there.

If I can even free her from the Empire's grasp again, once their claws have wrapped about her.

“So, when do we do this?” he asked as coolly as he could, though his heart raced in his chest.

“Get yourself armed. We leave as soon as you're ready.” Karne made no move to give him privacy for this either, clearly expecting Darius to be ready in mere moments.

Without another word, he pushed himself off the door and gathered his supplies. He strapped his dagger belt around his waist, feeling immediately more comfortable with the familiar weight pulling on his hips. His feet slipped into soft leather boots, dyed the same deep black as the rest of his clothing, and into the top he concealed a smaller blade. He'd stopped in many times before to check in on the mysterious Sparrow, but never dreamed of the circumstances of their first worded exchange being thus. He wished it did not need to be this way; that instead he was arming himself to swoop in and rescue her like the dashing hero in a little girl's stories, but life was not often so charming.

“Did you get any aethribane from the supply? What's this girl's talent?” Darius asked, feigning ignorance.

“No, I did not. And I've never laid eyes on her to See what she possesses. Knowing women-magi though, probably nothing more serious than Healing, I'd wager.”

Darius's first instinct was to be agreeable with that statement, as wrong as he knew it was, and leave the aethribane behind. After all, it would be pleasant to see such an underestimation of her abilities be greeted with the exact opposite, to allow her some power over the upcoming confrontation and be able to rub Karne's smug superiority in his face. Her compulsion, were she able and willing to use it, could free her more easily than Darius ever could. After a moment's inner debate, however, he decided against that route. It would do him no favours to be punished the same as Karne would be, were that to come to pass. Besides, he was as much a stranger to Sparrow as Karne was, from her perspective. If she were able to bespell Karne, she would be able to bespell him, and he could not protect her if he could not keep an eye on her.

He grabbed a stoppered jar of dried aethribane leaves, slipping it into a pocket in his tunic before turning to face his unwelcome guest. “Shall we be off?” he asked him far more jovially than he felt.

Minutes of uncomfortable silence lapsed as the unlikely pair of them strode through the castle halls, making their way outside to the familiar streets. Just before they reached the minor gate that marked the passage from the markets to the pleasure district, Karne redirected their route into an alley, then turned to face his reluctant partner.

“You should apply the illusions here, before we cross over,” Karne suggested in a way that did not speak of a choice.

Darius bristled a bit but kept his outward calm as he reached inside himself and gathered his aethris, preparing it for the spell. The thread of magic extended towards Karne and as Darius shaped it, it clung to his skin and morphed his features as if he were sculpting clay over the flesh, elongating the arrow-straight nose, blunting the sharp chin. A touch of it here and the tone of his eyes became a dull brown rather than their natural hazel; a hint there added a birthmark just peeking at the edge of the mage's collar. When he was finished with Karne's face, Darius modified his own similarly, again taking extra precaution to conceal his most identifying facial scar as well as his own deep blue irises.

Karne nodded his approval at their disguises. But before they moved on to the district itself, Darius stopped his partner; he needed to know one thing.

“It's been so long… how did they ever find her?”

“Yes, I'm sure you're curious after the price you paid for letting her escape your notice, hmm?” Karne chuckled. “A memory reading. That knight, Rhinlead, I guess he's got a history with the girl.”

That makes sense, Darius thought bitterly as he recalled the punishment of which Karne spoke. It was, in fact, the source of the scar that ran down his face that he hated so dearly. A few days after the Homecoming, Harlemont had asked Darius for a report on everything he'd noticed, clearly having thought about the event thoroughly and finding question with how Darius had performed his duties. When he told the lord that he had been occupied elsewhere, had not seen what had happened with the girl until her whipping was underway, he had been furious. He'd been drunk, of course, or else he'd not have dared to draw his dagger and slash wildly at his assassin as he had, only pure luck keeping the blade from missing his eye as it carved a ragged line in his flesh.

But as Darius had clutched the wound, the blood pouring over his hands and splattering onto the floors of the lord's private suites, it only made him more resolute to keep her from the grip of such a cruel and unpredictable menace. Who knew what he would do to her before she would be sent off to the College for a wholly different kind of torture? Since that day, he'd done his best to divert the lord's attention to other matters whenever the subject came up, and it had steadily become more infrequent until he believed that the girl had been forgotten entirely. How wrong he'd been – he should have known the lord would not be so easily redirected.

He nodded his acceptance of the story and side-by-side they entered the pleasure district. He felt a terrible coward as he prepared to assist the Empire in apprehending the one person he had sworn he would protect from them. If all goes well, there will be time enough to make it up to her, he tried to assure himself, I just need to hope this doesn't go poorly, and I still have the chance later. Darius breathed a heavy sigh to calm himself as he opened the door to the Nest, the sounds of merriment and pleasure roaring out into the street until the door closed behind the pair of them. It felt like the door to a prison cell, slamming shut and sealing his fate with iron and key.