[Fifth Era – Year 1257 of the Divinity War; remains of the First Star, mysterious cavern]

  Jestil emerged from cultivating the memories blind and lost, shutting his eyes against the dangers that surrounded them. Dangers that would be unleashed if he merely observed them.

  His only landmark was the savage pain emanating from that girl, Sarisa, which screamed through every quivering bit of flesh and bone. How was he to find Nazrin? What had they done to her? No screams told him. But the sound of his own struggle against Sarisa must have echoed across this entire cavern, if it was a cavern? Did the revenescent even have an edge?

  He’d become completely disoriented in their tussle—even before then, when the rope had been torn from his hand. Who could say if the guide rope remained to be found, or if it had been redirected elsewhere?

  Arguing voices hissed behind him. One shushed the other. To his left rang a shout and clatter like the sound of someone tripping and falling, then cursing as they dusted themselves off.

  Time for him to leave. And abandon the singing sand? But the sand held fast to Sarisa, and he could find her anywhere. The pain would lead him.

  Jestil risked a nervous squint at the ground. Shaken by all the horrors he’d witnessed. Torches gave the only illuminating light, but who knew for how many years they had burned, or lay frozen, unburning, until observed. Anyone who came to investigate would stay near that light.

  Oh, Infinite, what should I do? No one approached from the darkness, so he would risk it. Once he had slipped the search he could find Nazrin. Gaze down, with barely an eyelid cracked, he snuck into the darkness. But he had not gone far when he nearly ran headlong into a cart of some kind. Through the merest slit of his eyes, he craned his neck up, and up, higher still. Was that a siege tower?

  Skimming his fingers over the obstacle, he slipped around the tower, into the darkness, and peaked out toward the pain.

  They would come and he would follow. But would they lead him to Nazrin? Or had they abandoned her in some pit somewhere? They wouldn’t kill her, not someone so useful, an immortal. Unless she was corrupted. He feared for her. She’d come so close before. And if she became mortal he would be left to stumble through this alone.

  These weapons could harm him, but they could not kill him, so why should he fear? Infinite guide me. He closed his eyes, stood, and strode into the darkness. Hopefully, something would guide him, even if it was just a feeling. But he felt nothing. He walked onward. Whispers and muffled cries came from behind, but he gave them no heed. No light shone through his eyelids, all was darkness. His hands searched ahead, as his feet shuffled forward.

  Suddenly, he struck something, and something lanced deep into his flesh. He groaned in pain as he felt a wooden haft piercing clean through his thigh. He tried to pull it free, but it was jammed deep and barbs kept it from retracting. Worse, he could feel a knob on the butt of the spear, so he couldn’t push it through. With a grunt of pain, he applied his duke-level strength to the haft, easily snapping it in two, then, he pulled the spear through his leg.

  There were certainly dangers here. Thankfully his gratitude was already healing the wound.

  Then he thought he heard a whisper, not just any whisper. “Nazrin?”

  All was silent. He turned toward the sound and continued walking, arms groping through the darkness before him.

  The ground dipped and he stumbled. Automatically, his eyes flew open as he fell. A few trees blocked the path, and a faint silhouette hung from a rope ahead. His rushed footsteps saved the fall. Leaving him staring up at the figure. It was Nazrin. It had to be. He rushed toward her, not bothering to close his eyes in this near darkness.

  “Nazrin?”

  “Jestil?” The figure’s voice faintly rasped the name. She kicked her feet, attempting to spin to get him in view. “It is you isn’t it?”

  No, not Nazrin. She was far too small. Who was this girl? And how did she know his name?

  The unfamiliar girl hanging from the tree stared down at him and slowly, softly began sobbing. “Jestil, you came for me. Thank the Infinite you came.”

  Whoever she was, she had to be an immortal, for she dangled from a noose. Jestil traced the rope to its end, where it had been tied to a tree. He untied it, and gently let her down.

  She threw the noose off her neck, rubbed at the welts from the rope, ran to Jestil, and tackled him. He caught her, though she drove him back a step, even as tiny as she was. Her arms pinioned him, and her face nuzzled into his belly. She held him, sobbing into his robes.

  Who was this girl? He patted her back as slowly, ever so slowly her sobs quieted.

  “Have you seen Nazrin?” Jestil asked.

  “Nazrin?” She stepped back, keeping her hands on his shoulders, but looking into his eyes. Her brow darkened. “You mean that caravan guard? Why would she be here?”

  “We came here together, but we were separated.”

  “And why would she help me after what she did?”

  What was she talking about? But it didn’t feel like the right time to solve the riddle or ask her who she was. “Something happened. I need to find her.” On an impulse, he added, “I came for you first.” The lie burned in his throat, but it seemed to mollify her.

  “They’ve used me for harvesting their battlefields for so long. I’m sure they’d be happy to have another immortal to exploit.”

  “They said they were harvesting the Field of Whispers, looking for something called blind blades.”

  She bent and scooped up the noose, then began spooling together the rope. “I wondered why they left me hanging for so long. They must have used her.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “How well do you know this place?”

  “Better than anyone. They all keep their eyes closed. But I’ve seen it all.”

  “Will you take me?”

  She tucked the rope into some fold of her dress, silently took his hand, and led him downhill.

  Sarisa remained on their left somehow, the pain undimmed, no matter how far they went. Then he realized, they must be moving her in parallel to their path, no, not quite parallel, they seemed to be converging, toward a destination.

  Jestil didn’t know this girl’s name, though she continued to hold his hand. At this moment he did not dare to ask. “Perhaps we should hurry.”

  “We’re approaching the Field of Whispers now.” She slowed and turned, walking backward. “Some caution would be appropriate. You can close your eyes if you wish, otherwise, look where I look.”

  She moved as if she had memorized every danger, every tilt of the eyes or turn of the head. She turned her head left as they passed the body of a fallen woman. There was no scent of death, on her, not yet, not in this place. Still fresh, but here that could be a hundred years old.

  “You know this place well.”

  She sniffed. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of breaking the soul covenant. We’re surrounded by weapons of death. Have you ever faced such a blatant temptation day after day? Do you have any idea how many blades, spears, and worse things I could have taken and rammed down their throats? But I just can’t do it. They’re all possessed, they don’t know what they’re doing.”

  “I am no killer, though I had given up hope decades, centuries, ages ago. How long has it been? In this place, I cannot even tell. Perhaps my sense of time has failed, and it only seems like an eternity. You are hurried enough to save her. But still, I can’t imagine any less haste to find me. Jestil, what … No, I won’t question. You found me at last.”

  “This place is out of time somehow. I wonder, can the Amnesia Storms even strike such a place as this?”

  Suddenly the girl halted and spun on him, staring into his eyes. Deeper, she seemed to penetrate his meaning, staring until tears welled and she dropped his hand. “You don’t even know who I am.”

  One lie tasted bitter enough. And she knew. “I will remember once we get Evaegis.”

  “Evaegis was destroyed. They ground him to dust. I witnessed the act.”

  “Nazrin believes we can put him back together.”

  “What does she know if it?”

  “He speaks to her somehow. I think. Not in words, but she’s connected to him. Deeply connected. Unless my intuition fails.”

  She wiped her eyes and nodded. “Then we’d best find her.”

  Jestil struggled to find his courage as she turned. “Who are you?”

  She remained silent for a moment. “I suppose you’ll find out.”

  Slower and slower he followed this forgotten girl through the battlefield.

  “I’m sorry, I disappointed you.”

  “I didn’t think even an Amnesia Storm could make you forget me. Of course, I’m no Irinai or Elizzin. Perhaps I should get you some sparflit bread.”

  “Wait.” He thought of the little girl who was always trying to get their family to help each other, trading troubles. “Lilari?”

  She turned, stunned, and looked up into his eyes, finally smiling. “So you do remember me.”

  “A little. Evaegis helped me remember. It is a strange coincidence that we should meet here, galaxies away.”

  Lilari turned and continued leading him through the battlefield. “Strange? Or did Evaegis guide you to this place?”

  “I suppose he did.”

  “Then he knew you would find me. He has a plan. We’ve been reunited for a purpose.” Lilari stopped. Silence reigned until he nearly reached out to see if she was awake.

  “Are you alright?”

  “I haven’t gone any farther than this. But if they’re looking for blind blades, this is where they’ll find them. Secret detachment of the Fifth Infantry. Do you remember … ? Never mind. I suppose you wouldn’t.”

  “You know this battle?”

  “We knew it once. We lived it.”

  “How were we in a battle? We can’t kill …”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The soul covenant. Murder will break it.”

  “Killing is not murder, it won’t break the soul covenant, not in defense of life or liberty.”

  “We’ve all killed before, when there was no other way.”

  “Even you?”

  “I tried not to. If I could take their weapons I would.”

  “Wait, whose revenescent is this?”

  “As clever as ever, even if you don’t remember anything you already suspect the truth.”

  A faint groan sounded ahead.

  “Did you hear that?” Jestil rushed toward the sound.

  Lilari snatched his hand to restrain him. But he broke free.

  A figure, very much like Nazrin was curled upon the ground.

  “Nazrin?”

  “Jestil, where are you?” Nazrin asked. It was her.

  “I’m coming.”

  “Don’t look,” Nazrin said. “Keep your eyes shut. There are too many dangers.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Nazrin drew a sharp breath. “I haven’t finished getting the arrows out.”

  Eyes closed, he groped toward her voice until he felt her. His hand brushed the shaft of a protruding arrow and she groaned.

  “Sorry.”

  “I’ll get them out. Just help me up.”

  He obliged.

  Nazrin still struggled for breath. “How did you find me?”

  “I had help.” Jestil took Nazrin’s hand and groped his way back toward the Lilari. “Are you there?”

  “Just follow my voice,” Lilari whispered.

  Fingers flailing for any sign of her, one of his fingers suddenly poked her in the eye. She made no complaint, but took his hand and led him out.

  “Sorry,” Jestil whispered. “We need to turn right to find Evaegis.”

  “You lost him?” Nazrin asked.

  “Not lost, I know exactly where he is.” Jestil pointed the direction to Lilari. The source of pain had stopped nearby.

  Nazrin held his shoulder and followed. “Did he fall out of your boots?”

  “Essentially. He’s with Sarisa.”

  “That witch,” Lilari cried. “if I’d wanted to kill anyone more …”

  “Who?” Nazrin asked.

  “The girl who brought us,” Jestil answered. “She said her name was Sarisa.”

  “I must have been preoccupied with trying to escape.”

  Nazrin was nearly pushing him now. “Why does Sarisa have Evaegis? How?”

  “More like he has her. Let’s hurry.”

  He followed the pain, pointing the way, but the Lilari led them around the dangers. Soon they were approaching a series of tents. Small infantry tents, very unlike the pavilion tent they’d been brought to earlier.

  “She’s in there,” Jestil announced.

  They circled the tent, looking for anywhere to peek inside. Whoever had brought her here, had left her alone. They must be scouring the area for them, and amid all these troublesome battlefields they could be gone for some time.

  Within, the tent was not as he’d expected. Lush carpets covered the ground. Sarisa lay upon a lavish bed of embroidered silks. Evaegis’ sand still covered her, though she breathed steadily through a parting in the grains.

  Jestil struggled to keep from groaning at the pain of being so near to her.

  Perhaps they could brush Evaegis into some kind of satchel. But what about Sarisa? If they left her behind she could use the pain to track him. She could find him anywhere. “We’ll have to take her with us.”

  Jestil hadn’t told them of the strange pain she caused him, drackmoor pain was it? A pain which he apparently caused her as well. How could he explain it to them?

  Nazrin approached the sand-entombed Sarisa. “I think I can get Evaegis to release her.”

  “He’s eating her. I think he is … he’s becoming a morthel.”

  Nazrin began brushing the sand off of her. “How could he? He’s no morthel.”

  “Do you know how morthel are made? Look. That’s exactly what he is becoming. Most morthel are petrified, just like him.”

  “Help me stop him.” Nazrin whispered something to Evaegis, but the instant she touched his sand it surged over her hand, and she grew still.

  Jestil struggled to pull her out, but the sand only kept creeping over her. Evaegis was consuming them as completely as any morthel. He had become some kind of monster? What had they done to him? Perhaps being ground to powder had made him go mad.

  “Let go,” Lilari called.

  But Jestil couldn’t abandon Nazrin. With two hands he yanked on her arm with all the strength a duke level of self-assurance could impart. But the sand surged across her skin, down her arm, and over his hands. Jestil’s hands were trapped, engulfed by sand, and all the world fled.