“How is it not different?”
“Whether or not a plague is to blame, the fact remains that you alone are able to heal it. Not even the greatest physicians in our land can hope to imitate whatever it is that you do. Isn’t that right, Brother?”
It was true. For reasons unknown, the gods had entrusted this healing power to Ardyn alone.
“Tell me, what can a single man hope to accomplish?” Somnus asked.
“Every life I touch means another soul delivered from the scourge.”
“And as you save that one, how many others fall ill?” Somnus seemed to taunt him now. “Five? Ten? Ever will the scourge outpace you, Brother. You labor in vain.”
“No, that’s . . . ” Ardyn faltered. That’s not true, he’d wanted to say, but his brother’s words stung as such.
“What will you do for the towns you are too late to save?” Somnus continued. “When the land is full of daemons, will you continue to try to treat them one by one? Better to end them now and stay ahead of the scourge before it brings ruin to us all.”
“You speak of human lives!”
But Somnus smiled in triumph. To him, the argument was already won.
Ardyn continued to plead with Somnus, thinking of the men and women he’d seen struggling to hang on to the minds they felt slipping away, terrified by their own disfigured appearances.
“They have done nothing wrong!” And they hadn’t. They simply bore the misfortune of some malady that had found its way into their bodies. “How can you strike them down when they are free from trespass?”
“Ever the dreamer,” his brother sneered. “Sentimental hopes do not foundations form. To stand strong, a nation must be grounded in reality.”
“And so you would take the easy way? The coward’s path?”
Somnus’s voice grew as hard as steel. “You try my patience, Brother. Indulge the people if you must, but I cannot allow you to lead them astray. Kin or not, I will not tolerate seeing my name and acts besmirched.”
Ardyn did not respond. He could not. There was murder in his brother’s eyes, and for the first time, Ardyn felt his own life might be in danger. A small part of him berated his own ignorance; these notions had clearly been brewing within his brother for some time. How could he have missed it? They were siblings. He should have known the man’s mind and temperament better than any other. Somnus would look to any means to achieve his goals. So had he always done. Whatever he set his mind to, he saw it through to the end, no matter the cost.
Ardyn realized he had to flee, had to hide. He could not die just yet. Too many lives remained in the clutches of the scourge. They needed his help. He had to keep on living, regardless of all else, until the scourge ravaged their people no more. It was his calling to see the world cleansed.
“You look exhausted, my love. Are you all right?”
Graceful hands cupped his cheeks, as pleasant as the voice that accompanied them. Their touch was sweeter than the wind that combed through the golden wheat, warmer than the sunlight filtering between the green leaves as Ardyn sat in the shade of a great tree, resting against its trunk.
He spoke her name, eyes still closed. “Aera.”
He felt his weariness lift. The haze in his mind vanished, like mist dispelled by the morning sun. True, the seeds of worry still lingered; his last conversation with Somnus had ended sourly, and it was possible to imagine that his life might be in danger. But with Aera’s hands upon him, he found the determination to go on. He would hold his head high.
“Thank you, my love,” he said. “But you needn’t worry.”
It was strange. Every time he was struck with longing to see her, she found her way to him. Ardyn opened his eyes. Her golden hair fluttered in the breeze, the light reflecting in her eyes. They were the color of the sea, the loveliest color he’d known in all his days.
“I thought that if I waited here, I might have a chance to see you.”
“I felt the same.”
Aera smiled. Seeing that smile was enough to fill his chest with warmth. But he thought also of the lives that had fallen to the scourge. Each of them were meant to know love one day. Each were meant to have a special someone who made their heart leap, whether their paths had crossed already or had yet to do so.
And what a wonderful feeling it was to stand with the one you loved, to face life together, hand in hand. Everyone should have the chance to know that happiness. It was an irrevocable right of life. That was the purpose of the powers entrusted to the two of them by the gods, her power to hear and his to heal. Together, he and Aera must see that no one lost their chance to know love.
“The gods blessed me with a power and a purpose: to cure people of what ails them. I must see their will be done.”
Ardyn looked down at his outstretched hands. Aera laid hers upon them.
“Your devotion shall not go unnoticed. The gods will doubtless be watching over you.”
Somnus had asked what one man could hope to accomplish against the Starscourge. But Ardyn was not alone. Aera was with him, and together they would carry on.
“It seems to me,” Aera ventured, “that the cure for your exhaustion is comprised of two things, one of which is rest.”
“And the other . . . ?”
Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly, and a trace of mischief danced through her eyes.
“ . . . is me,” she finished.
Ardyn chuckled, then embraced his love.
“Oh, Aera,” he said. “Pray be with me always.”
At her nod, all his fear was gone. No matter what became of his flesh, he would carry out his calling until the end. No matter what Somnus said, he would not relent. If Somnus thought his words could stay Ardyn, he would be sorely disappointed.
“Milord! We have yet to locate your brother. However, we continue to scour the area, and―”
Somnus waved the man away, interrupting the report. He’d heard enough. Over half a month had passed since his last argument with Ardyn. His brother seemed to have determined that further talk would be fruitless, stealing away to gods knew where.
Irritation, resignation, scorn―Somnus bitterly recalled the final expressions he’d seen cross his brother’s face. Ardyn was a man beloved by the people. They would have him as their king, leading their newly founded nation with the favor of the gods. Perhaps Ardyn’s anger and frustration were a sign, reflecting feelings hidden in the hearts of the people.
However, despite the hope placed in him, Ardyn was woefully unsuited to rule. He lacked the ability to see the world for what it was. He was too trusting, not just of his fellow men but of the world itself. His eyes were ever fixed upon the good. Admirable, perhaps, but it kept him blind to less desirable truths.
Of beauty alone was no man or object sculpted. Kneaded in with the clay were cunning, ugliness, and filth. Was that not why the rule of law was needed? Such dark strains had to be kept in check. Was that not the duty of a king?
“That’s precisely it,” he muttered to himself. “The quality most needed in a king is a firm hand. To dote upon the people only ensures that the nation shall be forever weak.”
And a nation had to be strong. It had to be secure. For the sake of its subjects, it had to be ready to repel any incursion. A clan of men gathered in one place did not a country make. But a clan was still all they had, and that under constant threat of these cursed daemons. The promise of safety required troops who were prepared to wipe evil from the world. Somnus was the one to raise those troops. To harden, hone, and lead them.
“My feckless brother is blind to the truth before his eyes . . . ”
Ardyn always talked of another soul delivered, saved by his own two hands. But his method would not suffice to save them all. Only some saved meant many more were not, and in the end, Ardyn’s path served only to put the choices of fate in the hands of man. His was the way of one who had never doubted his own position in the eyes of the gods. A man in whom all others placed trust and saw promise. A man chosen for everything. To Ardyn, the thoughts of those who had not been so blessed were and would always be a mystery. He would never know how it felt to be passed over in favor of another. He would never know how the forlorn gazed upon the chosen.
And so you would take the easy way? The coward’s path?
Somnus scoffed. Why should ease be equated with cowardice? His was the way most just. He would not choose whom to deliver or cast aside from among those touched by the scourge. He would not foster despair and envy in those condemned to a horrid death. No one would be forced to wonder why they had been abandoned when others were not.
It was cold, yes. But it was fair.
Somnus stood to leave.
“Lord Caelum, shall I accompany you?”
He did not turn but replied, “Stay. I’ll not need an escort.”
The woman he sought would be in the sanctuary, the gods’ words perhaps gracing her ears at this very moment. Aera, the Oracle. Aera, the woman of his brother’s heart. Somnus needed to speak with her, and with haste. He had to ascertain the truth and then plot his course.