Last Messenger - Chapter 25

Chapter 25 - Caden

Aael looked up. “But this—”

Caden held up his hand. “Only you and the Abbot should know.”

“What if everyone—” Aael started.

Caden interrupted. “Will you remember it?”

“Yes.”

Caden relaxed the pressure on his Lym, and the three internal streams rushed out in a torrent while the three external colors were an almost undetectable trickle. Violet, the elemental source, sputtered out of him. But it would be enough. Caden snapped it like a whip, focusing on the parchment, and formed the energy into a tight bead of heat.

The paper burst into flame and Aael’s secret name floated away with the smoke. Aael jerked backward and scowled at him. Caden kept his amusement hidden behind an impassive face.

“Time is against us,” Caden said.

Aael looked at his chest. “What’s wrong with me?”

“A thousand years ago…” Caden started.

Aael’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Are you joking?”

Caden allowed himself a laugh, “I’ll minimize the history, but it’s all related.”

Aael sighed. “History is about dead people and their problems.”

Caden raised an eyebrow. “Some problems don’t die.”

“Right, only the boring ones survive.”

“A thousand years ago, one of Thalt’s Cheriphim was frozen—” Caden tried again.

Aael interrupted. “You said Raph was a Cheriphim, how many are there?”

“We’re short on time, but since you’re so interested in the history, I’ll tell you.”

Aael groaned, and Caden smiled at his son’s self-inflicted pain. “Your question is at the center of the war between Raln and Thalt. The two Gods struggled to find victory. Raln took the long view and altered his followers. He did a horrible thing and made each of them a seed. When they died, they lived on in his service. They acted as an energy sink and trapped Thalt’s magic in Aln.”

Aael’s eyes widened. “The Mageblood trees are people!”

“Yes, in eternal servitude.”

“That’s terrible.”

“War is terrible,” Caden said. “Thalt took the opposite approach and concentrated his power in six mages who died in the Separation War’s final battle.”

Caden closed his eyes and remembered Saniel cradling his head, the scent of strawberries struggling to mask the smell of burned flesh, the grass red with their blood. He remembered dying.

Opening his eyes, Caden continued. “Thalt chose a mage for each color on the Star. These six were resurrected and given the power of a god. Each had their mind warped, a compulsion to obey Thalt and ensure his victory. The Yellow Cheriphim, Dakkar, thought he had succeeded.”

“How cold must it get to freeze a mage?” Aael asked.

Caden shook his head. “It wasn’t the cold that froze him. Dakkar discovered a substance that released the magic trapped in Aln. He gathered a vast amount of Aln and planned to discharge it all at once while brining Thalt back without Kael’s Heart.”

“Kael’s Heart?” Aael asked.

“I’ll get to that later,” Caden said. “The Void Walkers—”

“Void Walkers?” Aael interrupted again.

“For Thalt’s sake, Aael, let me finish,” Caden scolded. “Mages are a conduit for Thalt’s power, but only a narrow frequency feels natural and is usable. These bands of energy are grouped into colors, hence the Mage Star. For Raln it’s different. His followers manipulate, consume, and destroy energy.”

“They are all one color?” Aael asked.

“Color is the wrong reference. Raln’s disciples fall into three main factions. Light Weavers are crafters and mostly pacifists, the Black Circle contains religious fanatics, and Void Walkers are human weapons that are experts at disrupting and killing mages.”

“What is Padda?” Aael asked.

“A Void Walker, pretending to be a Light Weaver, in the shadow of The Black Circle’s largest temple,” Caden said.

“How do you know he’s a Void Walker?”

Caden rubbed his chest, remembering an old pain. “The Abbot attacked me the night you were born, which is the story I’m trying to tell.”

“Sorry,” Aael said.

Caden picked up the Ghost Mage from the Bandt board and held it in his fingertips. “Raln was winning the balance. Thalt became weaker every day, as Aln trapped his power, keeping it locked away in a solid form. Dakkar planned to melt the Aln and release millennia of trapped magic in an instant. The balance would shift to Thalt and Dakkar believed he could reform his Lord without Kael’s Heart. The Void Walkers couldn’t take the chance that Dakkar might succeed. Hundreds of them joined and did something that day, something still not understood. They crystallized a living thing.”

“What does that mean?”

“They turned Dakkar into Aln,” Caden whispered.

Aael leaned backed his mouth open. “They killed a Cheriphim?”

Caden gently placed the Ghost Mage back on the board. “Dakkar didn’t die.”

“How could he survive?”

“Dakkar was the most powerful Ghost Mage in history. Resurrected as a Cheriphim he was truly frightening. Even trapped inside his body, with no access to his Lym, he could communicate. If you neared his crystalized body, he could enter your mind and communicate with you.”

“What a terrible way to live.”

“It gets worse. The compulsion in the Cheriphim, the need to be doing Thalt’s work, smothers the mind. Dakkar, trapped, couldn’t obey the compulsion and went insane.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

Caden paused and then forced himself to continue. “If we can’t stop it, your fate will be the same.”

Aael leaned forward. “What! Is someone going to attack me?”

Caden wanted to stop, to spare Aael the pain, but he knew what would happen if he did. The time for secrets had passed. “No, you are doing it to yourself.”

“That doesn’t make sense. How?”

Caden looked into the dark blue eyes Aael shared with his mother. “You know.”

Aael stood and then sat back down. He hunched forward, his hands in his lap, and gently rocked back and forth. Caden waited, he had waited his entire life for this child.

Aael stopped rocking and looked up. “Inside,” Aael tapped his chest, “I’m like them. Like Padda.”

“Yes,” Caden answered.

“Outside, I’m like you,” Aael said.

Caden nodded. “There has never been anyone like you. I meant it when I said you were special.”

“And when I was born?”

“While you were in your mom’s womb, she fed your open Void with magic to keep it balanced. When you were born, your Void remained open, but you’d lost your connection to her. So, you absorbed the closest magic available. You began to crystallize yourself, just like the Void Walkers had done to Drakkar. The Abbot figured out a way to stop it.”

“How?” Aael asked.

“He took you to the large tree in the center of the grove. It did something to your Void and mostly closed it.”

Aael looked dazed. “The tree?”

“Yes. That tree saved your life.”

That moment remained seared in Caden’s memory…Aael nestled happily among the sharp branches of the mageblood tree, the Abbot looking relieved…Saniel running into the grove, fully healed moments after giving birth…the night sky a dull orange from the fires caused when Aael’s umbilical cord was cut, the backlash from the severed connection causing a massive explosion…the sweet scent of fury kisses that surrounded the tree that had saved Aael’s life.

“How can a tree do that?” Aael asked.

“It is not just a tree,” Caden said.

“This thing inside is crystalizing me?”

“Don’t distance yourself from it, it’s a part of you.”

“It’s trying to kill me!”

“No,” Caden said gently. “You are killing yourself.”