The Shadow Of What Was Lost (4 page)

As if reading his thoughts,
Ilseth placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re not to blame, you
know.”

“I just don’t understand why
people are like that.” Frustration lent an edge to Davian's tone.
“Administrators and townsfolk both. Why do they hate us so much? The war ended
fifteen years ago; I had nothing to do with it. Those boys – I doubt they were
even born back then!” He took a deep breath. “I know, we have to accept the
Treaty, live with the Tenets. It just doesn’t seem
fair
.”

Ilseth paused, considering Davian
for a moment. “It’s not,” he said quietly, his tone matter-of-fact. “Not to any
of us.” He shrugged. “As to the other… well, they hate us so much because they
fear us. And they fear us because they know they can never control us. Not
completely. Even though the Tenets make them our masters for now, we’ll always
be stronger than them.
Better
than them. That’s a hard thing for people
to accept, and it’s what drives them to push us down at every opportunity. They
broke us once, and now they worry that if they don’t keep at it, we will rise
up again and exact vengeance.” There was no heat to his words, only
resignation.

They walked on for a while, the
only sounds the gentle breeze in the trees and the creaking of the cart. Davian
absently rubbed at his scar as he thought about what Ilseth had said.

“This wasn’t the first time, was
it.”

Davian turned to see Ilseth
watching him. “No,” he admitted after a moment.

“What happened?”

Davian hesitated, then gave an
awkward shrug. “It was a few years ago. I was just a servant at the school, back
then – I’ve lived there all my life. Mistress Alita had sent me into town, and
some of the men there must have known I was working for the Gifted. They were
drunk… I don’t remember much of it, to be honest.” Only the fragments he
dreamed about, in fact. Nothing else between leaving the school and waking up –
every nerve on fire, his face slashed open and the Mark emblazoned on his
forearm.

He stopped. It had been a long
time since he’d had to tell this story to anyone. He took a deep breath of the
fresh sea air, continuing, “They attacked me, were going to kill me, but there
was another Gifted – an Elder – who was passing by, and he… protected me. When
he saw what they were doing to me, he killed them.” He fell silent.

“Ah,” said Ilseth, his expression
changing to one of recognition. “You’re him. The boy Taeris Sarr saved.”

“You’ve heard about it?” Davian
couldn’t keep the surprise from his tone.

Ilseth gave a short laugh, though
there was no amusement in it. “I doubt there are many Gifted in Ilin Illan who
haven’t. Administration claimed Sarr found a way to break the Tenets in order
to kill those men. He denied it, of course, but it made little difference to
the Northwarden. Sarr was executed before Tol Athian could even formally
protest.”

Davian nodded, a little sadly.
He’d never been able to thank the man who had saved him. Sarr’s execution had
troubled Davian more than his injuries, in some ways. It had shown him exactly
how little saving his life had been worth.

“Did you know him?” Davian asked.

Ilseth shook his head. “Not
personally. He was at the Tol when the sieges began, and travelled a lot after,
so our paths never really crossed.”

Davian looked up. “So… you didn’t
live at the Tol during the war? You fought?”

Ilseth chuckled. “’Fought’ would
perhaps be overstating things.” He saw Davian’s blank expression and grimaced.
“’Hid’ may be a better term,” he elaborated, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh - of course. Sorry,” said
Davian, abashed. Everyone called it ‘the war’, but everyone equally knew that
the bloodshed had been mostly one-sided. He gave Ilseth a curious glance. “I’ve
never met an Outsider before.”

Ilseth grunted. “That’s because
there weren’t many of us left, by the end. If you weren't lucky enough to be
inside the walls of Tol Athian or Tol Shen when it all began, your chances of
survival were... slim. Believe me.”

“What was it like? If you don’t
mind me asking,” Davian added hurriedly, suddenly realising he was prying.

Ilseth gave a slight shrug,
looking distant. “I don’t mind, lad. It was a long time ago.” He scratched his
beard. “It was… lonely. Most people will tell you the worst thing was the
pressure of being hunted, the constant fear, how you always had to be on your
guard. They’re not wrong, exactly – you slept light and felt lucky if you got
to the end of the day. But for me, it’s the loneliness I remember the most.”

Davian wiped a bead of sweat from
his brow; being mostly uphill, the return walk from Caladel always required a
little more exertion, and the sun was now beating down with intensity as well.
“You didn’t try and get back to Tol Athian?”

Ilseth smiled wryly, as if at a
poor joke. “Only those of us who couldn’t take it any more did that. It was
suicide to be anywhere near the capital, let alone try and get to Athian. The
same went for Tol Shen down south – and the other three Tols had all been
destroyed by that point.”

Davian nodded; though the Elders
were usually close-mouthed about the war, he’d already gleaned that much. Once,
there had been five Tols – five different groups of Gifted, each teaching
different philosophies and skills in their various schools, filling specific
roles for the Augur leadership. Now, only two survived – Tol Athian, under
whose governance his own school fell, and Tol Shen.

Ilseth continued, “No – I just
went from town to town, trying to stay quiet, always on the lookout for Hunters
and Loyalists. And always alone. During those days, if you spotted someone else
who was Gifted, you went in the opposite direction. Most of us who survived
were like me – smart enough to realise that aside from direct skin contact, the
Finders could only detect you while you were using Essence. And if you could
sense another Gifted, it was because they were doing exactly that... which
usually also meant that the Hunters were on their way.”

Davian stayed silent, trying to
imagine it. Three entire Tols wiped out, the other two besieged. Every school
in the country overrun, everyone who had lived there butchered. A time when
things were
worse
for the Gifted, when they had leapt at the chance to
sign the Treaty, submit themselves to the Tenets.

He watched Ilseth from the corner
of his eye. The Elders at the school were always reticent when it came to the
Unseen War, but Ilseth seemed perfectly willing to talk about it.

“Did you ever meet the Augurs?
Before it all started, I mean?”

Ilseth shook his head. “I worked
at the palace, so they were around, but I never met any personally. I wasn't
much past a student myself, back then.”

“But you saw them use their
powers?” Davian tried to keep his tone casual.

Ilseth raised an eyebrow, looking
amused. “The Augurs? I suppose I did – a few times, whenever I went to watch
them Read petitioners. Though honestly, there was nothing to actually
see
.
Someone would come in with a claim. The Augurs on duty that day would stare at
them for a few seconds, discuss, and then pass judgment. It was about as
exciting as watching the king and the Assembly do it now, I imagine.”

Davian frowned. “So… they didn’t
use Essence to Read people?”

“No. Of course not.”

“You're sure?” Davian held his
breath. He’d long suspected this, but had never been able to get a straight
answer from either the Elders or any of the school’s few
Administration-approved texts.

Ilseth snorted. “Lad, what have
they been teaching you at that school? Think about it. Essence can only affect
things
physically
- pick things up or break them apart. Pull, push. Harm
or heal. How could it possibly be used to read someone’s mind?”

Davian nodded, too fascinated to
feel embarrassed. “But the Augurs could use Essence too? Like the Gifted?”

Ilseth adjusted his glasses.
“Well... yes. I remember one man who tried to lie to them – there were a few
who thought it was possible, believe it or not - ran when he realised he’d been
caught. The Augurs had him wrapped up in Essence before the guards could even
move.”

Davian digested this information
in silence, a flicker of relief in his chest. His other ability wasn't the
problem, then. It didn't solve anything, but it
was
one less factor he
had to worry about.

“So they could Read people, and
See the future. What else?” he asked eventually.

Ilseth shook his head, smiling.
“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?”

Davian flushed. “Sorry. I’ve
always wondered about what it was like before the Unseen War, but the Elders
won’t talk about it.”

Ilseth scowled, and for a moment
Davian thought he was angry at him. “They’re fools, then,” said the older man,
and Davian realised he was talking about the Elders. “I don’t care what the
Treaty says. The Loyalists burned half our knowledge when they destroyed Tol
Thane. We can’t let the other half just evaporate through cowardice.”

There was silence for a few
seconds, then Ilseth sighed, calming. “In answer to your question – nobody
really knew what the Augurs could do, except the Augurs. They were nothing if
not secretive, and there were only maybe a dozen of them at any one time. The
only abilities we know they had for certain are the ones mentioned in the
Treaty.”

“So Reading and Seeing.” Davian
knew that part of the Treaty all too well.

Ilseth nodded. “Beyond those,
lad, you’re into the realm of rumour and speculation. And we have enough of
that going around from Administration without me adding to it.”

Davian nodded, trying to conceal
his disappointment. He kicked a stone along the road idly. “Do you hate them?”

Ilseth frowned, puzzled. “The
Augurs? Why would you ask that?”

“The Elders won’t talk about it,
but I can tell that they blame them for the way things are.” Davian shrugged,
trying to hide his discomfort. "Administration say the Augurs were
tyrants, and I've never really heard anyone claim otherwise."

Ilseth considered for a moment.
"Administration will also tell you that we were their willing accomplices
- that back then, every single one of us used the Gift to take advantage of
those less fortunate," he pointed out. "For the most part it's just
rhetoric, taking the exception and presenting it as the rule. The Augurs were
far from loved - feared, mostly, to be honest - and sometimes they did things
that were unpopular. But until just before the war, people accepted them.
Understood the value of having them in charge."

Davian frowned. "So they
didn't oppress anyone?"

Ilseth hesitated. "I don't
think they ever meant to... but at the end, when they realised their visions were
no longer accurate, they panicked. Didn't tell anyone what was happening at
first, not even the Gifted. Covered up the worst of their mistakes. Refused to
cede any authority once people found out, and instead tried to create stricter
laws and harsher penalties for any who opposed them - which they then tasked
the Gifted with enforcing." He shrugged. "They were just trying to
buy time to find out what had gone wrong with their visions, I think, but...
things got messy after that. Fast."

He sighed. "So yes - with
the way they acted just before the Unseen War, they
are
at fault.
Undoubtedly. But do I hate them? No. I suppose I understand why others might,
but I don't.”

Davian nodded in fascination. “So
what do you think happened to their visions?” Another matter on which the
Elders were always tight-lipped.

Ilseth raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps I can tell you the location of Sandin’s Emerald, or give you the names
of the five Traitors of Keth while I’m at it?” He laughed. “It’s the greatest
mystery of my generation, lad. I don’t know. Nobody does. There are a lot of
theories, but none with enough evidence to give them any merit. They just...
stopped getting things right.” He sighed. “I was there that night, you know. I
was in the palace the night that Vardin Shal and his men attacked. The night
the Augurs died.”

Davian felt his eyes widen. “What
was it like?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Chaotic,” replied Ilseth grimly,
apparently not offended by the question. “People running everywhere screaming.
The Gifted not knowing about Traps, not understanding that they couldn’t use
Essence, dying where they stood. It wasn't the glorious battle the Loyalists
would have it be, that’s for certain.” He shook his head. “I’d been studying
late that night, and it saved my life. Those asleep in the Gifted quarters had
their throats slit where they lay. Even the children.”

Davian blanched. He’d never heard
details like that before. “That’s awful.”

Ilseth shook his head. “That was
tragic, despicable even. Walking into the meeting chambers and seeing every
Augur in Andarra dead –
that
was awful.” His face twisted at the memory.
“It’s difficult for your generation to understand, but they were more than just
our leaders. Their passing meant the end of a way of life.” He fell silent,
remembering.