Chapter 63: What Was Lost
Chapter 63: What Was Lost
Chapter 63: What Was Lost
The white wolf passed through the forest, making no noise as it traveled. It approached the boar, who was surprised at its silent approach. The boar jumped up and ran squealing through the forest. The wolf watched it go into a bramble patch, then continued on.
Next it came upon the black hound, who went quickly towards the town where he lived with men. The wolf watched it go past the towns edge, then continued on.
Afterwards the white wolf came across the tortoise. Though it was surprised and frightened to see the wolf, it was too slow to run from it. It watched as the wolf considered it for a long while, then continued on its way.
Later, when the tortoise, the hound and the boar met, they talked of the wolf. The boar and the hound spoke of their flight away from the wolf, and asked the tortoise if it, too, ran.
The tortoise said that the wolf had only looked at it before continuing on.
The hound and the boar praised the tortoise for its courage, and though it had felt no courage in the moment it raised its head high in pride. It talked of its bravery, and of the cowardice of the wolf for fearing to confront it. It talked loudly, its voice carrying far through the forest, and when it left to go about its business the tortoise walked with pride.
A short while later the wolf crossed its path again. The tortoise faced it, unafraid - until the wolf attacked it. It cried out and tried to retreat into its shell, but the wolfs teeth began to crack through its shield. It pleaded with the wolf to stop, and to walk away as it did the day before.
The wolf said that it could not. It had not deigned to pursue the boar through the bramble, nor the hound into the domain of men, nor had it troubled itself with the tortoises hard shell. The wolf had no need to suffer such hardship in pursuit of prey.
But the tortoise had stopped acting as prey.
- Pre-Gharic Ardan manuscript, vellum, c. 500 PE
The second day after the Mendiko capture of Leik saw yet more people on the street, and of those many were workmen. Impromptu crews of carpenters, masons and artifices walked up and down the streets, clearing long-neglected debris and touching up the facades of buildings. Michael would have thought it a coordinated effort if Sobriquet hadnt disclaimed any responsibility; she was far too busy to be dedicating time to public works.
A man lives in a town, he wants it to look proper, Charles said approvingly, watching an artifex reshape the stone of an old Gharic pillar to remove chips from gunfire. You dont need to tell people to take care of where they live. He stepped beside Michael and tossed an arm around his shoulders, grinning widely. Just remind them that its theirs.
And it is, now, Emil said, walking past the pair to observe the construction crew. Daressa. The first time its been truly free in years.
His voice was steady, but there was a resonant joy radiating from Emil as he watched the men work. The three men stood without speaking while the workmen packed their things and moved down the street to the next building, an august old rowhouse with its topmost storey caved in by an errant shell.
Emil rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Going to be a damn good market for lumber.
Charles snorted. There we go, I was worried you had caught something. It isnt like you to get sentimental.
Im a patriot like anyone, Emil protested. I see no reason why I cant be a rich patriot while Im at it. Nothing wrong with making a living helping my countrymen rebuild. He smiled, showing his teeth. Im half-surprised youre not out there with them. Theyd find good use for you in the industrial districts.
Straightening girders? Charles scoffed. Im not that kind of artifex. You need to have joy to do it proper. He raised his free hand, one of his bracelets flowing down to encase it in a silvery sheen. I talked to some of the Mendiko artifices in charge of holding that man we bagged. Theyre engineers. He made a face, as if the word imparted a foul taste. Theyre wrapping a force of nature in those beautiful Mendiko alloys and all they want to talk about is tensile strength and shear forces. Numbers and diagrams.
Well, yes, Michael said. Theyre trying to make sure he doesnt break free and kill everyone.
Bah. Charles pushed Michael away, bidding the metal back into its normal place around his wrist. Theres no artistry in either of you. You wouldnt catch Gerard making bricks-
He trailed off, looking back at the work crew. Michael said nothing. He felt the deep melancholy that had gripped the other man, tolling like a great bell from within. Eventually, Charles shook his head. A shame he couldnt see it.
Many good men will never get the chance, Emil agreed. But many good men will, and thatll have to be enough.
For lack of options, if nothing else. Charles ran a hand through his hair, then looked down the street. We should find a tavern. Raise a drink to Gerard and Clair, and all the others. He looked over at Zabala, who had been standing at a short remove. What about it, Mendiko? Have a drink with us?
Zabala shook his head. On duty.
Since when has that stopped a soldier from drinking? Charles muttered. Fine then, itll be just the three of us. He set off down the street at a rapid clip.
Michael and Emil exchanged a glance; they shrugged and began to follow.
Hes in a rare mood, Michael said quietly, shooting an apologetic glance back at Zabala. I suppose the aftermath of a battle strikes everyone differently.
Emil nodded. It does at that. Id wager he wants to get right back at it. He shook his head. I fear taking back the country is only the first step. If we manage this, well have a generation of men that know nothing but the fight. Once they lose it, theyre going to keep looking until they find it. He frowned. And they will find it, one way or another.
Michael pursed his lips. I suppose youre right, he said. But I think weve got enough problems today without borrowing some from tomorrow. We have to free the country first, and I imagine the Safid will make more of a contest of it than the Ardans have been.
Oh, itll be years, Emil sighed. But youre right. Tomorrow for tomorrow. Were going to have enough on our hands getting Charles his drink without it descending into a fistfight.
Out of the corner of his vision, Michael noticed Zabala straighten up. You think thats likely? Michael asked.
Emil shrugged. Man likes to fight.
If fighting breaks out, Zabala said tonelessly, Id like to request that you leave immediately.
It wont come to that, Michael reassured him. Charles likes to fight, its true, but hes not going to start anything with other Daressans.
So then of course he finds the one bar where a bunch of Esroun sailors are drinking, Michael said, exasperated.
Many of the latter were overflowing with the same excited energy that had been building within the town ever since its liberation. Michael didnt doubt that this night or the next would see a city-wide party to beggar all festivals. Their conversations surged around him, melding with the thrum of adrenal optimism that seemed to vibrate the very air.
one of those Mendiko armored vehicles, ran right through the fence-
killed that bastard before he could retreat, I swore hed get his for what he did-
walking around town after he took out that Ardan Bulk commanding them-
Michael stopped in his tracks, his ears sharpening on two women talking a short distance away. A smile crept over his face. I think the two of them are talking about Charles, he murmured. Word gets around.
He let his sight drift over to better-see the talking pair; they were two women in their middle years, each holding a bundle of assorted goods. One was gesturing emphatically with her free hand as she narrated her tale.
came up as part of the resistance, milady Mockingbirds personal cell as I hear it. One of her right-hand men. The woman nodded emphatically. Was them that picked up the truth of how they destroyed the Low City, and carried it up to Mendian so theyd come back here and see justice done. Of course hed have the spine to stand against that Ardan.
Her companion shook her head. Its all very admirable, but I still cant believe anyoned stand against a Bulk that werent one themselves. You remember what that one did, the Ardan with the lazy eye? And he werent even that strong compared to some!
The first woman leaned back, a smug look on her face even before her friend had finished talking. Theyre strong, aye, but not the strongest. This man, hes got a soul like no other. They say he can fight with the souls of all those who support him, great and small.
Michael froze; his heart seemed to take a great, lurching beat in his chest even as the other woman scoffed at the assertion. He pulled his sight back so quickly it made him stagger, turning away from his eavesdropping. Sobriquet shot a glare at Zabala, who had come rushing closer, then looked at Michael with a pained expression.
I told you, she said. You mean more to everyone than you know.
They walked the rest of the way to the medical barracks in silence.
With Sobriquet, finding Luc was a simple matter; she led Michael down the long rows of identical tents and abruptly swerved into one, tossing the flap aside to reveal Lucs startled face.
You could knock, Michael admonished her. Or say something.
I could already see inside, she said. I knew he was dressed. She pulled Michael inside before he could object further; Zabala, mercifully, did not try to crowd in. Michaels hip is bothering him.
The surprise on Lucs face smoothed into understanding, and he stood from his cot. Sit down, he said. Let me see whats happening. Theres been a lot of improperly-healed wounds coming through. He sighed and shook his head, managing a smile. Easy enough to fix, yes?
Michael sat tentatively on the cot; it creaked under his weight. As he sat he took in the tent for the first time. It was only a tent, to be sure, but it was well-populated with Lucs belongings despite his short tenure there. He saw the small row of Gerards stone figurines neatly lined up on Lucs trunk; he picked one up with a smile.
Have you moved off the airship entirely? Michael asked, turning the small statuette of a mountain pine over in his fingers. This looks like all of your things.
Luc looked up and took the figurine from Michaels fingers, setting it back in the place it had come from. Michael blinked, and Luc looked oddly-nervous. Sorry, yes, he said. Its a long walk back and forth, and I thought - well, I feel more at home here.
I understand, Michael said, putting aside the mild discomfiture at Lucs reaction. The airship can be a bit much sometimes. I feel like Leire is constantly watching me - she probably does have someone watching us every moment were there.
The comment drew an awkward laugh from Luc as he bent to examine Michaels hip. Michael untucked his shirt and tugged his waistband down to reveal the angry red welt on the outside of his hip. Luc tutted and leaned closer, his lips pulling into a frown.
Ridiculous, he murmured, lightly tracing his fingers over the scar. I know Mendiko anatomentes get better training than this, hes let the fascia scar up all the way down into the muscle. He looked up at Michael. I can fix this, but there will be some pain.
Michael nodded, and Luc looked down once more. He saw the shape of Lucs soul condense around him, still amorphous and ill-defined; like most souls of its axis the manifestation looked like reflection or refraction, but Lucs moved oddly, as if reflecting from beneath a deep-
A stab of pain interrupted his musings; Michael restrained a yelp as his leg was forcibly healed from within, knowing that if he made any noise Zabala would likely burst in to tackle Luc. A second later, panting and red-faced, he stood from the cot and felt no pain whatsoever. He clapped Luc on the shoulder, then pulled him into a hug. Amazing, he said. And youve been doing this such a short time, too! Youre easily as good as Isolde.
Luc looked down and to the side, flushing. Ive had good teachers, he mumbled. Unai has been very patient. After a moment, he raised his eyes. And I wouldnt have any of it without you.
Michael could feel his skin heating. You mean more to everyone than you know. I only got you to Mendian, he said. The rest, your talent - thats all you.
Luc looked, if anything, even more uncomfortable; his eyes went back down to the floor, to the cot, lingering on his row of figurines - then back up to Sobriquet. He pressed his lips into a line. No, he said quietly. I mean it. That Im off the island, that I survived Severs camp, even that I have - that a person like me has a soul. He clenched his hand, then relaxed it, fingers trembling. The only reason-
He paused as a low, distant wail began to sound from somewhere far away. It was mechanical, rising and falling with a siren cadence. Zabala materialized within the tent, sticking close to Michael with alert, narrowed eyes.
Alarm from the perimeter camp, he said. Not sure what it could be.
Sobriquets eyes glazed over. Not an Ardan attack, Ill say that much. Id be able to see that quickly enough. No furore at the camp, but there is- She broke off, frowning. Theres a blind spot.
A blind spot? Michael repeated. Like you did for Sibyl?
Yes, although itd have to be a different mechanism, she muttered distractedly. Significance as a screen, or maybe a small platoon of dediscators - whoever it is, the absolute fucking gall of them! Doing this while Im right here? Her face showed irritation, then concern. Theyre no lightweight or Id be able to push past it.
How quickly can we be back there? Michael asked. Whatever it is, we should- He paused, stumbling. In his chest, a pain had flared, strong and pounding against his ribs as though trying to bash them from the inside out.
Peripherally, he was aware of hands guiding him towards Lucs cot, of Luc and Sobriquet talking insistently to him while the world swam in and out of focus. The pressure continued to build around him, though, pulling him far from their words.
The last thing he saw before the pain surged to a crescendo was Sobriquets face next to his, her eyes wide with panic. He tried to say her name, but did not know if any sound escaped his lips.
In the next moment, there was only light.
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