4.4 A Shared Shadow

General Summary

Day 37

  Everyone else wakes before me and dresses in their formal elven clothes from Dreah. Alwen has helped Hella braid her hair in the elven fashion and if it weren’t for her ears I could almost mistake her for one of us.   It takes us half a day’s travel to reach the keep and the landscape as we approach is foreboding. The slope upwards is made of gravel with rusted iron spikes that would channel and break apart any attacking horde. The outer wall is 30 m high, and the inner wall is taller. The fortress proper stretches another 100 m higher. I can feel the paper thin enchantment in the air, as delicate as a wintered leaf. I dispel it with a small spell and we continue onwards towards an encampment with a cooking fire. Two elves break away and approach us: One muscular but shockingly young man, and a comically petite woman.   They introduce themselves as Subleader Linai and his second, Trael. This gathering of elves is not a formal company, but everyone here is military in one way or another. They have been here for seven months and their supplies are beginning to run out. It’s hard to contain my smile as they tell me, solemnly, about how we are now trapped within the keep due to the enchantment that surrounds it. They had gathered here to prepare an army to free other elves from bondage.   Finally as we take up places in their meeting hall, I tell them the enchantment has been broken and all are free to come and go as they wish. Trael begins to speak of how that must have taken an incredibly powerful magic...and then trails off sheepishly with a glance at myself, Bran, and Hella.   I can feel that there is still an enchantment over the inner keep, but it is Kadia’s magic and not the raging winter fae’s spell. As we head towards the keep to investigate, Linai tells me of the members of his small company:

• 4 trained fast cavalry (with 2 horses)
• 10 skirmishers
• 1 heavy cavalry (himself)
• 1 courier, whose name is Asalien
• 1 drummer
• 1 bannerman
• 1 engineer
• 1 quartermaster
• 1 mage

We come up to the engineer, Shei, as she is investigating the walls of the keep. A small thread of earth magic flows around her. She speaks of the siegecraft of the fortress and how impressive it is.   Kadia speaks through Hella and unlocks the enchantment for us, telling me that it is Oathbreakers’ Keep and was locked to prevent the oathbreakers from escaping and turning against us. The last person within died over 900 years ago, and only skeletons remain. This becomes evident as the gates open and we find nothing but crumbling remains, locked in combat where they fell a thousand years ago.   These were friends and soldiers at one point. People who swore oaths to our Empress and to one another to stand beside each other and protect each other. And here they fell to one another’s blades. Mercifully Bran, Rosalia, and Hella stay to prepare funeral pyres so that the elves do not have to carry that weight.   While they work, Trael gathers the rest of the elves (25) to be addressed by me. Unlike the send-off from Ipth, I have plenty of time to feel the anxiety of stepping into a role I don’t entirely remember. Fortunately Alder is with me and I can force him to call their attention for me, which he does reluctantly (though none other than I could see it).   Calming the quiver in my voice, I speak to them of how proud I am for their loyalty and service, for gathering together and protecting one another, and for being ready to fight for others. This keep, protected by our Empress’ forest, will be a haven for elves who are seeking refuge from human cities. I ask them to make this a safe and welcoming place until we are able to return home.   Their faces are bright, hopeful. I hope they hold that courage through whatever comes at us next!   Linai tells them of our plans for a funeral tonight and they break apart to organize amongst themselves. Asalien joins me and Alder in the meeting hall, where I am filled with warmth to tell her of Sahlon. It is a blessing to cross one name off of my long list.   Next, we speak to Fenir, who appears to be the only mage present in the company. He is blindfolded and moves like someone who has very limited vision, but not blind. And his hands are misshapen from being a prisoner of the Collective for so long. He was a Farseer once, and was tortured for refusing to use his craft in their service. Bran might be able to help him, but I can’t make any promises. I wish I could.   Finally, their quartermaster comes to speak with us. Gederick is very old...older than his low rank would suggest. I ask him to prepare a list of supplies he needs, which Asalien can bring to Sahlon. He also offers me a small bottle of elven whiskey. Linai offers a small warning of Gederick’s shady dealings with gambling and...unusual accounting.   After the politics have been handled, we return to the keep to check on Bran, Rosalia, and Hella. We find two pyres amassing nearly 800 bodies. While we may not know which pyre is for which side, it’s clear that they died at odds and should be cremated with their allies.   But this is just from the courtyard and the entrance hall. There is an entire keep of bodies to clear. We will need multiple funerals.   But there is little time to dwell on that. Bran leads me to a hall large enough to address a full company. There is a raised dias with a circle of stones and a layer of complex magic overtop it, like a lock that will only open for a certain type of person.   Of course...I am that type of person. As I reach towards it, the circle sinks into a spiral staircase that descends into the ground below us. A breath of air drifts out, perfumed with the scent of orchids and the presence of the Empress. I descend without hesitation, followed by Alder and Kadia in Hella’s body.   I descend in pale, silvery light that casts inky black shadows. A large chamber opens up, with a gate at one end. Surprised, Kadia tells us that this is a Shadow Gate. Many were destroyed in the war but it is a way of travelling and sending things from far away, but only Oathkeepers may use its magic.   She instructs me in how to open the Gate for something to pass through. Someone very far away is trying to come through or send something, and I am eager to meet another Oathkeeper. Perhaps Lyssa has a gate and has felt me here?   As I arrange the candles to cast deep shadows onto the gate, I hear the Empress’ voice,   Too far to send much...a small gift…   And then there are two small bundles and a note in front of the gate. Any disappointment I feel at receiving gifts instead of a guest is banished as I read the letter.   Within the bundle indeed, are the things he writes of:

• A full-sized banner of the Empress which will allow a shadow that stretches ½ km from the centre to cloak the keep and its inhabitants
• A black iron staff, inlaid with polished moonstones. It is clearly Alwen and Tira’s handiwork
• A scroll of rites
• Three tomes of magical knowledge for Hella (one in the Osyr language)

Tears stream down my face but I’m full of laughter at the same time. My student is right, it does raise more unanswered questions. The ink is fresh on this letter, so in this brief moment I have the certainty that my students are alive and well, as are my family. I have the knowledge that my mother was determined to send me a tiny, tiny piece of my home. I have the comfort that my Mistress and my students are united in protecting my home and family. And that whatever research and work was happening there continues in the hands of my apprentices. But also, so much information that is new and unsettling...about the Kindred and an assassin who has followed me through the Barrier.   The second bundle, I tend to alone, as Alder and Kadia retreat to give me space. Within it I find my own banner, with its own enchantment. Any who carry my oath are protected from magical fear while they can see it.   I find my own field uniform, worn and mended a few times, one of which I remember. Dal’s chiding laughter as he threatens to leave the bloodstain in the cloth.   I find, as my mother made sure, a jar of marmalade wrapped in my own house robe, embroidered with orange blossoms. It’s old and worn and probably embroidered by her own hand.   But there are two items that threaten to take my breath away.   The first: A book entitled The Knife in Shadow. It’s fiction, clearly, with a bookmark part of the way through. The first page has Thalien’s handwriting in it.   May your next 500 years be more filled with the pursuit of leisure.   It seems like a fruitless wish. He is the only one of my party I will not been able to speak with. Dal was here to greet me, Lyssa has spoken to me in dreams, Tira and Alwen have sent me this letter, and at least my Mistress is alive. But any gift that carries Thalien’s touch is a reminder that he is gone, and Bran is all I have left of him. It is so hard to resist the bitterness of this thought.   Instead, I turn to the final item in the bundle: A polished onyx brooch set in silver.  

From the night I ascended to Dread Lady. At the end of a day of ceremony and ritual, I’m in a luxurious room in pale, flickering candlelight with my Mistress. She places the brooch around my neck and kisses me.

  And there is a note accompanying it. The ink is not as fresh as Alwen’s, but it is still recent.     The world around me vanishes in the memory of this kiss, the intimacy of all my previous memories paling in comparison to this realization.