King of Sword and Sky
Page 92
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
"What will you do?"
"What I must. See to the defense of the Fading Lands as the gods have tasked me to do. The Massan will not like my methods, but I have neither the time nor the temperament to lead by consensus." A muscle jumped in his jaw, and he admitted in a low voice, "I have asked Gaelen to teach the Fey his dahl'reisen skills."
"You—" She broke off, already envisioning the heated scene that would erupt when the Massan learned what he had done. If there was anything those Fey lords would consider more of an affront than a Mage-claimed shei'tani, it would be the idea of a former dahl'reisen—a Fey who'd surrendered his honor—acting as mentor to the warriors who had stood fast against the call of the Dark Path when he had not. "You don't look very happy about the idea."
His mouth twisted. "I confess, I am not." He dragged a hand through his hair, a gesture of distraction that showed more plainly than words how unsettled he was. "Like most Fey, I do not embrace change easily, shei'tani. In part because stability and routine were what I clung to as I fought my way back to sanity, but also because rules and discipline make life…less dangerous. The Fey live by a strict code of honor, because honor is what binds us together and shields us from the lure of the Dark Path. It is a good way—and a just way—because it keeps us a force of good in the world."
"Do you truly think that even without that code the Fey could ever become truly evil?"
The dimly lit walk cast flickering shadows across his face, revealing his bleak expression. "Every chadin who passes through the Warriors' Gate at the Academy learns the cautionary tales of once-great Fey warriors who abandoned their honor and fell from the Light, just as the Eld have done. Those Fey, who once walked the streets of Dharsa as heroes of the Fading Lands, became dahl'reisen and eventually mharog, monstrous, corrupt creatures of evil who have extinguished every glimmer of goodness in their souls."
"But dahl'reisen aren't all evil," she pointed out. "Some simply chose life over sheisan'dahlein. Is that so bad?"
"Every journey starts with the first step, and the first step down the Dark Path is choosing self over sacrifice." He turned to her, his eyes shadowed. "Our strict code of honor is what allows Fey warriors to trust themselves and the blades at their backs—and that can mean the difference between life and death, victory and defeat. Especially when the enemy is the Eld, and doubt is a weapon they use to claim and destroy souls."
"If you still feel so strongly about it, then why do you want Gaelen to teach the Fey?"
"Because I have no other choice. The Fey are dying. Our numbers are too few…and will grow fewer still once the Eld unleash their armies. If Gaelen can teach a Fey to last even a few chimes longer in battle, that could well mean the difference between victory and defeat."
They came to a small, exquisitely carved bridge that crossed one of the gently burbling streams winding through the palace's hillside gardens. Rain's steps slowed as they crossed the bridge, and he paused to look down at the lights of the city below.
"I keep telling myself that perhaps the gods set Gaelen in your path and gave you the power to restore his soul for this very reason. That perhaps he chose self over sacrifice because this—his presence here, now, with us—was the pattern the gods spun into his weave all along." He gave a humorless laugh. "I'm not sure I believe it. The Fey in me will probably always think he should have chosen sheisan'dahlein. But no matter what I think of his choices or his honor, the one thing I cannot deny is that Gaelen has spent most of the last thousand years defending Celieria against Eld incursions. There's no one more capable of teaching this generation of Fey warriors how to fight the Eld and win."
Ellysetta could feel how torn he was. "Well, at least you'll have Marissya on your side to help smooth things over with the Massan."
"She probably could—she has a way with them—but she has already stepped down from her service in council."
"What?" Her jaw dropped. "But why?"
"Because of the child. Don't look so outraged, shei'tani. She will continue to serve the Fey…just not as our Shei'dalin. Until her child is born, she will walk the Fading Lands to sow Amarynth and hold back the desert. Venarra has agreed to serve as the Shei'dalin in Marissya's stead and continue the training you began with Marissya."
"Oh." Ellysetta bit her lip.
"This does not please you." His brows drew together and his eyes sparked with lavender fire. "Venarra was discourteous?"
"No, of course not." Good gods, the last thing she needed was to cause further ill feeling between Rain and the Massan. "She wasn't rude…" Fury and rudeness were not the same. "It's just that…well, Rain, you know how hard it is for me to trust shei'dalins. It took me weeks to warm up to Marissya. Now I have to start all over again? With a woman who thinks the High Mage is going to take over my mind and use me to destroy the Fading Lands at any moment?"
His brief flare of temper subsided. "Ah, well…" He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and they resumed walking. "Give yourself and Venarra time to get to know each other, shei'tani. The Eye deliberately sowed discord among us. I do not know why. At the moment, all the Massan are wary, but once they come to know you, they will love you as I do."
Would they? Ellie wasn't so sure. She'd spent a lifetime as an outcast—and no matter how hard she'd tried, she had never managed to win most people over. And for all Rain's talk about sacrificing self for the good of the many and choosing death rather than risking corruption, he didn't seem to see the parallels between herself and the dahl'reisen.
"What I must. See to the defense of the Fading Lands as the gods have tasked me to do. The Massan will not like my methods, but I have neither the time nor the temperament to lead by consensus." A muscle jumped in his jaw, and he admitted in a low voice, "I have asked Gaelen to teach the Fey his dahl'reisen skills."
"You—" She broke off, already envisioning the heated scene that would erupt when the Massan learned what he had done. If there was anything those Fey lords would consider more of an affront than a Mage-claimed shei'tani, it would be the idea of a former dahl'reisen—a Fey who'd surrendered his honor—acting as mentor to the warriors who had stood fast against the call of the Dark Path when he had not. "You don't look very happy about the idea."
His mouth twisted. "I confess, I am not." He dragged a hand through his hair, a gesture of distraction that showed more plainly than words how unsettled he was. "Like most Fey, I do not embrace change easily, shei'tani. In part because stability and routine were what I clung to as I fought my way back to sanity, but also because rules and discipline make life…less dangerous. The Fey live by a strict code of honor, because honor is what binds us together and shields us from the lure of the Dark Path. It is a good way—and a just way—because it keeps us a force of good in the world."
"Do you truly think that even without that code the Fey could ever become truly evil?"
The dimly lit walk cast flickering shadows across his face, revealing his bleak expression. "Every chadin who passes through the Warriors' Gate at the Academy learns the cautionary tales of once-great Fey warriors who abandoned their honor and fell from the Light, just as the Eld have done. Those Fey, who once walked the streets of Dharsa as heroes of the Fading Lands, became dahl'reisen and eventually mharog, monstrous, corrupt creatures of evil who have extinguished every glimmer of goodness in their souls."
"But dahl'reisen aren't all evil," she pointed out. "Some simply chose life over sheisan'dahlein. Is that so bad?"
"Every journey starts with the first step, and the first step down the Dark Path is choosing self over sacrifice." He turned to her, his eyes shadowed. "Our strict code of honor is what allows Fey warriors to trust themselves and the blades at their backs—and that can mean the difference between life and death, victory and defeat. Especially when the enemy is the Eld, and doubt is a weapon they use to claim and destroy souls."
"If you still feel so strongly about it, then why do you want Gaelen to teach the Fey?"
"Because I have no other choice. The Fey are dying. Our numbers are too few…and will grow fewer still once the Eld unleash their armies. If Gaelen can teach a Fey to last even a few chimes longer in battle, that could well mean the difference between victory and defeat."
They came to a small, exquisitely carved bridge that crossed one of the gently burbling streams winding through the palace's hillside gardens. Rain's steps slowed as they crossed the bridge, and he paused to look down at the lights of the city below.
"I keep telling myself that perhaps the gods set Gaelen in your path and gave you the power to restore his soul for this very reason. That perhaps he chose self over sacrifice because this—his presence here, now, with us—was the pattern the gods spun into his weave all along." He gave a humorless laugh. "I'm not sure I believe it. The Fey in me will probably always think he should have chosen sheisan'dahlein. But no matter what I think of his choices or his honor, the one thing I cannot deny is that Gaelen has spent most of the last thousand years defending Celieria against Eld incursions. There's no one more capable of teaching this generation of Fey warriors how to fight the Eld and win."
Ellysetta could feel how torn he was. "Well, at least you'll have Marissya on your side to help smooth things over with the Massan."
"She probably could—she has a way with them—but she has already stepped down from her service in council."
"What?" Her jaw dropped. "But why?"
"Because of the child. Don't look so outraged, shei'tani. She will continue to serve the Fey…just not as our Shei'dalin. Until her child is born, she will walk the Fading Lands to sow Amarynth and hold back the desert. Venarra has agreed to serve as the Shei'dalin in Marissya's stead and continue the training you began with Marissya."
"Oh." Ellysetta bit her lip.
"This does not please you." His brows drew together and his eyes sparked with lavender fire. "Venarra was discourteous?"
"No, of course not." Good gods, the last thing she needed was to cause further ill feeling between Rain and the Massan. "She wasn't rude…" Fury and rudeness were not the same. "It's just that…well, Rain, you know how hard it is for me to trust shei'dalins. It took me weeks to warm up to Marissya. Now I have to start all over again? With a woman who thinks the High Mage is going to take over my mind and use me to destroy the Fading Lands at any moment?"
His brief flare of temper subsided. "Ah, well…" He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and they resumed walking. "Give yourself and Venarra time to get to know each other, shei'tani. The Eye deliberately sowed discord among us. I do not know why. At the moment, all the Massan are wary, but once they come to know you, they will love you as I do."
Would they? Ellie wasn't so sure. She'd spent a lifetime as an outcast—and no matter how hard she'd tried, she had never managed to win most people over. And for all Rain's talk about sacrificing self for the good of the many and choosing death rather than risking corruption, he didn't seem to see the parallels between herself and the dahl'reisen.
