Somnus clenched his hands into fists. The thoughts hung heavy in his heart. But there was no other choice. It was something he needed to see through, even if it meant dirtying his own hands.
“I shall not ask forgiveness,” he vowed to himself. “Nor do I expect to ever receive it.”
Far beyond the fields of wheat rose a column of black smoke. Ardyn looked upon it, his expression strained. It was not hard to imagine what was burning there.
How could anyone be so callous?
In truth, he knew the answer to his query all too well. To Somnus, the innocents burning in the distance were no longer people. Perhaps the man even saw Ardyn as one among the monsters now. It would explain how easily he justified sending men to hunt down and kill his own brother.
The previous day had brought another close call. A single night’s lodging, in a town already cleared of the scourge, and still the soldiers came. Ardyn had underestimated Somnus, and it had almost proved to be his undoing. The younger Caelum seemed to keep watch everywhere. Perhaps no settlement, no matter how small, was safe.
Fortunately, Ardyn had seen the dust kicked up in the distance by the soldiers’ approach, and he ran. There was no doubt in his mind that had he tarried a moment longer, he would now be in custody, dragged back to the castle like a dog to be thrown at his brother’s feet. It was the people’s regard for him that kept him unharmed; they’d shown him a safe route, and he’d fled deep into the cover of the nearby woods.
Through the dim light beneath the trees, Ardyn ran like a beast hunted, until at last, when his strength gave out and he was unable to push his legs any farther, he huddled in the hollow trunk of a great sentinel of the forest. There, he waited for his pursuers to abandon their search. It was nearly dawn before he heard the distant piercing cry of a captain’s whistle and the woods were finally free of the soldiers.
He continued to hide for some time, huddled motionless in his paltry shelter of bark . . . Oh, how weary he felt. The past few days had been spent healing several unfortunates deep in the clutches of the scourge, and that had taken its toll.
At the root of the plague they knew as the Starscourge was some manner of parasite.
Somehow, it found its way into hosts, where it wreaked its havoc. Eventually, the hosts lost their minds to the scourge. Those gone that far were pronounced daemons and reviled.
But thanks to the blessing of the gods, Ardyn’s hands knew how to draw out the root of the scourge. They pulled the darkness from the victim’s body and brought it into Ardyn’s own. Cleared of the disease, the patients regained consciousness. Their skin, once black as jet and exuding the scourge’s dark miasma, would regain its former hue. And Ardyn would carry on, host to another bit of scourge himself.
He was no stranger to the experience of the disease. In fact, he may have understood it more fully than anyone else. In addition to the ability to absorb it, the gods had given him a mind unaffected by the scourge’s insidious influence. They had not, however, seen fit to bless him also with the power to cleanse himself. The scourge ever remained, never lessened, simply drawn from others and into him. Each time Ardyn saved another soul, he was forced to accept that pain and suffering as his own.
At first, he’d felt no more than a faint malaise. But with time, it grew to become a most unpleasant sensation and then finally a clear and piercing agony. The larger the swarm of organisms within him, the harder they were to suppress. They thrashed about until he thought they might tear a hole through his skin. They felt alive, like some manner of parasite worming inside him.
For now, the scourge remained in check. But he knew not whether his body would continue to hold as he drew yet more in.
What can a single man hope to accomplish? Somnus’s words clawed at his mind. All too well did he know the loneliness of his struggle. How many more victims would he be able to heal before he succumbed? How long would he be able to endure the pain?
What will you do for the towns you are too late to save? When the land is full of daemons, will you continue to try to treat them one by one?
Once more, Ardyn cast his gaze across the fields of wheat, at the smoke of countless lives brought to an end for naught more than the misfortune of having known the scourge. First beaten and abused, now they were reduced to ash and scattered to the wind, with no rites spoken over them.
Ardyn shook his head. Such atrocities must not be allowed to go unanswered. He had to keep moving forward. There were people seeking his help. He was needed at their side.
He tried to rise and leave the shelter of the forest, determined to continue on his way. But his body, riddled with scourge, would not obey. He pitched forward, unable to throw out a hand in time to arrest his fall. And then he was on the ground, lying with his face in the dirt. No strength came to his limbs. He felt the tiny creatures squirming around beneath his skin. It was hard to draw breath.
Finally, his vision grew dark. Black. The same color as the daemons themselves . . .
“Stop, Lord Caelum!”
Somnus did not reply. He shoved the female attendant aside and put a hand on the sanctuary door.
“The Oracle mustn’t be disturbed! No one must interfere with the ritual!”
He brushed away another set of grasping hands and pushed his way inside. He knew the precepts. The Oracle was here, listening to the words of the gods in the hour of their people’s need, and she mustn’t be disturbed. He would dare to do so regardless.
As other lords voiced their support for House Caelum to lead the realm, the gods, too, sought to select a ruler from among the house’s men. An absolute sovereign to sit atop the throne of the world’s first kingdom. There were two candidates.
“Lord Caelum, please! You mustn’t!”
Somnus closed the door behind him, shutting out the attendant’s shrill cries. Aera, kneeling in prayer at the altar, lifted her head to see who had entered. Her expression was a mix of surprise and confusion.
“Hail, Oracle.”
At seeing Somnus, her features hardened with suspicion.
Somnus continued, unfazed. “What say the gods?”
Aera did not answer, so Somnus shifted his approach. “The Crystal, then?”
“The Crystal has no will of its own,” she finally replied, tone flat.
Did she intend to evade his questions? Perhaps she could see right through him. Or perhaps the Crystal had provided no answers. It mattered not. Neither would impede his plan.
“Spare me the nuances of its workings. I only care to hear the message.”
“ . . . Very well. If you desire it, Somnus, you shall have my trust . . . ”
Her gaze fell upon him, calm and true. Somnus met her eyes. He would not look away. He would deliver his words with confidence, even if they were riddled with lies.
“I am to be your brother in marriage. Need I desire to have your trust?”
Aera’s gaze grew more piercing yet. “I am the Oracle, tasked with making the will of the gods known.”
She paused, letting him feel the weight of what might transpire. She had a duty to uphold. The truths handed down by the gods were not something to divulge lightly.
“Of that I am well aware. I am not so bold as to defy the will of the gods. However . . . ”
Here, Somnus paused, at the point of no return.
No, he thought. I will not turn back. This is a decision already made.
“However,” he continued, “my brother’s whereabouts are currently unknown. The rift between us is of my own making, and if I do not see it bridged, the gods’ words shall fail to reach his ears. Surely you see how finding him would aid both my cause and his―as well as your own calling, Oracle.”
Her gaze had been so sharp, he thought it might bore straight into his skull and see the truth buried there. But his entreaty made it waver and fall. Somnus imagined the nights Area spent without sleep, wracked with worry for her beloved. The brief moment of uncertainty was all he needed.
“I would send for my brother,” Somnus announced.
“You know he would not come.”
“If my envoy bears a message from the gods, he will believe. He will come.”
Aera’s gaze lowered still farther. After a moment, she looked back up, staring directly into his eyes. She seemed to have reached a decision.
Ardyn awoke. His mind was thick with confusion. He found himself indoors, lying in a bed. The room felt vaguely familiar, and yet not.
“Oh, thank the gods. Lord Caelum, I’m so glad to see you awake.”
A young woman peered down at him. Her face, full of concern, jogged his memory. He’d been in this room several days ago. The same woman had lain here, hands and feet bound, growling like a wild animal. She had been badly afflicted with the scourge, and Ardyn had healed her.
“My father and I,” she said, “found you collapsed on the ground when we were on our way to town. You can imagine our surprise.”
Ardyn recalled fleeing from the troops sent by Somnus and concealing himself in the forest. But everything beyond that was blank. He must have wandered around blindly during that lost time, ending up near the same town from which he’d fled.