Part 5

“I’ll be watching from the other side.” Avrá said and decided these

would be her last words to him. There had been far more she’d

thought she ought to say, but they all seemed to be fading from her

mind and she favoured the hymn of a song that had come to her three

nights before.

“They were two

Two walking through

Through an invisible war

Cold, and in bliss

Looking for more

Together,

forever in a dream

Both hungry

both freezing

both yearning

One burning

For some God

Or all the stars

Shining brighter

in the north

The north beyond Dabár.”

Though she was only one, she knew it was true that night-visions

and prophecies were seldom as they appeared to the mind, and so, she

chose to put her trust in a far older legend that night. One that said

this compass led each person home to their star. That a chosen few

would find it in the Mirror World, and that once the compass was

brought to its original placement, the disturbances and imbalances

between the worlds would dissolve. Before she sat down in her pulk,

she thanked the dead for showing her what she’d been blinded from

seeing. For as much as she’d hoped that this boy, one she’d thought she

might love, would be coming with her, it was all too clear to her now,

that Devus Teague did not search for stars or gods. Not for peace and

not for balance. No, he was still much too distracted with knowledge

and with himself, to crave for both higher and deeper truths.

“I curse you Avrá. I curse you! You are more terrible than I am for

what you’re doing!” Her rein started running and was pulling her

forward towards the mountain. Devus stumbled forward a few steps

more, though it was and felt utterly pointless. As she became a

shrinking dot in the far, he started screaming. It was such a loud

sound that he for a moment thought they’d hear him all the way to the

fortress, but he did not care. He yelled vicious curses her way.

Damning her both in common Araktéan and her tribal language.

Damning every moment they’d spent together and every single tale

she’d told him – calling them lies and delusions. Calling her a loon and

a sorceress. He cursed her past and future and wished her to go

through all the seven hells of Araktéa and whatever hells this Mirror

World might have in store. His rage was so strong that his limbs and

heart were hurting by the end of it.

At last, he lost his breath – his throat bloody from all the

damnation and the cold air’s response to it. Falling to his knees in

exhaustion, he heard a cracking sound. The ground started bouldering

in a similar way he remembered it once had, when the council had

taken them to see a herd of wild buffalos. “When they feel a storm

coming, they run straight through it to reach the other side faster.“

His father had explained. Now, as Devus raised his heated head, he saw

the whiteness of the Khantalin mountain moving in the distance

and out of the perfect silence of the Dabárian night, a huge block of ice

fell to the ground. Then another, and yet another. What was coming,

was by no means a storm that anyone could run through, and so

Devus got to his feet and he ran straight south. He ran as fast as his

feet could carry him through his past footprints. Finally reaching

Redric’s body (pale and half-conscious) he was gasping for air.

“Redric!” He demanded, as the avalanche was coming closer and

closer. He’d spotted a small hillside with an opening eighty yards

away or so. Maybe, if they were lucky and inhumanly quick, they’d be

able to get there in time.

“Wake up!” Devus yelled, slapping his stupid face and finally his

eyes opened.

“Damn you Teague. Damn you for damning us all.” Redric muttered,

for though still barely conscious, he sensed that whatever was

coming, it was something ruthless. Something that did not care for

mortality, or to spare the innocent. For once, Devus had no cunning

reply for him. Instead, he gathered all his remaining strength and did

what he could to pull him up. Redric stumbled and with their best

efforts, they started moving towards the hillside. Next to them, the

large masses of snow and ice increased in speed and were soon out-

roaring Redric’s moaning. A few sluggish steps, and it was as if every

last bit of noise had been removed from their ears. They’d been taken

by a long, endless high-pitch sound, unlike any instrument, bird or

girlish outburst any of them had ever heard. It seemed like something

of a passage to an absolute void, and they both wondered if this was

how death or hell or the end of all things might sound. With his sight

focused on every shaking step, Redric couldn’t know how close they

were - not to their salvation nor their death - but Devus hadn’t ceased

to see or to calculate. As the white masses approached, faster and

hungrier every moment, any other person with such an accurate logic,

might have given in due to what seemed to be a complete

impossibility. But Devus was far too furious to die, and so he used all

his heat, all his anger and ferocity, to keep moving. Screaming,

pushing and cursing words that couldn’t be fully heard by human

ears, he leaped forward. Redric’s large body, lagging just next to him

like a grand burden of morals and ethics. Just as the huge, white wave

washed the landscape, and all the marks they’d left behind them clean,

they both fell forward into the hill’s shelter they observed, breathing

heavily as the avalanche rushed like a great ocean next to them. So

white it was nearly blinding. Ferocious, vicious and gorgeous all at

once. The relief lessened their pains and fears for a short while, but

only until nature had stilled and the night had silenced once again.

The air still seemed tense and cruel, like an ice cold warning and a

reminder that they were no longer welcome.

“Now, we need to get back home before we freeze to death. Can you

walk?” Devus asked and Redric sent him a miserable and angry look.

“Can you stumble then?” He nodded, and so this was what they

did. Step by step, through the white dunes, with Redric’s leaving a

thin stream of red behind him. “A great sacrifice to the mighty Earth.”

Devus sensed Avrá would’ve commented had she still been among

them. He’d dared to look back as he’d ran, to see whether her rein

could get her out in time, but they’d been too close to the wall. It

seemed to him their world had claimed both of them before they could

leave it.

“You’re a bastard Teague.” Redric broke the silence after some time.

“Yes.” Devus said, then considered whether he meant a common

bastard or if this was the best he could do in insulting him. His

parents had never wed – that was common enough knowledge.

Something people seemed to have forgiven if not outright ignored.

Perhaps it was just the pain, but Redric’s face looked more hostile

than Devus had ever seen it before and though it seemed the wrong

time for it, it felt like a small accomplishment.

“You wanted to leave me there for good – didn’t you?”

“As for the now, I’m saving your life Redric, so that’s hardly fair...

we both wanted to get the compass back - remember?”

“At this pace, I’m actually quite sure I’ll die. If so, I need you to know,

if you can’t understand this with that brilliant brain of yours – all of

this is on your conscience. If you have one, that is.” He said, sounding

more aggravated than in despair by the fact that he might die. Devus

on his end, thought he was being a bit dramatic.

“Don’t be such a child, it’s just a scratch and you came with me

willingly. Besides, I haven’t even given you a hard time about losing

my father’s compass, so you be&er watch your tone.” Redric made

something in-between a snarf and a laugh.

“You... you son of a witch.” He said between tight lips. “You don’t

care about anyone do you, Teague? I know we might not be friends

but...” There was a pause. Both of them panted as they made their

way through the thickness of winter and ancient pieces of ice. Aching

in limbs and bones they’d never given much a&ention to in their

young lives, and to Devus’ surprise it didn’t bother him much. In fact,

having escaped death with such elegance thrilled him somehow.

“I’ve always defended you. Devus. I always came to your defense

whenever someone made cruel claims about your mother, but from

what I saw and heard tonight, perhaps it’s all true...”

“Oh, well thank you Sir for defending my fine reputation.” Devus

said, not bothering to guess which rumor he might be referring to. He

despised common gossip, and cringed by Redric’s need to showcase

just how damn noble he was. The truth was that there was a hatred

inside of him. One he was refusing to admit too, even now, in what he

seemed to think would be his final hours.

“Many say she was a loon, Devus - an actual sorceress. That she

took Nicholas under her control, made him fall in love with her and

give her a child. One that would corrupt the movement and create

chaos. And tonight you...”

“Ha! Now, that’s a proper cock and bull story, Redric. I might be a

bastard in all other aspects, but if you think I can control the snow

and move mountains...” Devus chuckled.

“How would you be so sure of what malice you might be capable of,

if your mother never lived to teach you?“ Devus snarfed again. She

had passed before he’d go&en the chance to even remember her face, so

he did not know. But it seemed ridiculous. Out of all the things he’d

ever wanted to know about, his mother’s origin was something he’d

given up on quite early. Nobody ever talked about her, and it seemed

such a small and irrelevant subject compared to everything else there

was to learn about.

“I’ve read through all the council’s records from that period. There’s

not a word about any sorcery and my mother’s name is barely

mentioned. She didn’t even take part in the council.“

“Our records don’t all need to be accurate. What if you....”

“Bloody hells, Redric. You’re seriously suggesting I’m an actual son

of a witch. And here I’ve been, thinking you have no sense of humor or

imagination.” Devus laughed now, and this only made Redric more

superstitious and infuriated. Devus had always been different. Redric

had figured he just felt a li&le misplaced and he’d even felt for him, but

there seemed to be more to it.

“You called for death and all sorts of hells upon that girl. I might

only have been half-awake but I heard it.”

“I was furious with Avrá - so I screamed. At worst, the avalanche

was a natural effect of the sound waves. Also, I’d love to hear more of

your hero tales, but if you want to survive so badly, you might want

to focus your energy on walking.” Redric bit his lip. There was a

genuine part of him that wanted to warn Devus about what he might

be capable of. He was always so bloody observant, yet he almost

seemed untouched by what had just occurred. And then there was

another part of Redric. One that was angry, and mostly wished Devus

would feel bad about what he’d done, if not even who he was.

For the final miles leading to the tunnels, none of them spoke a

word. Phee awaited them there and since she’d suspected they’d get

into trouble, she’d brought all kinds of aids and remedies. It was quite

possibly due to her efficiency that Redric didn’t end up bleeding out

that night, for his wound had both stretched and deepend and the

cold hadn’t been merciful. “I told you this wouldn’t go well, you

fools.“ She didn’t say it as viciously as she’d planned to, and Devus

observed as Redric’s eyes turned bright and so full of gratitude

towards her, it seemed to have been worth a night of unpleasantries.

Observing his peers, Devus wondered whether he’d ever feel such an

intense affection towards another person. He thought of Avrá. Of how

she might be buried out there, deep under the snow bed - too deep for

him to dig out. She could’ve survived it – everything was possible -

but it was unlikely. Perhaps the compass was still out there too.

Frozen into her li&le hand. But he sensed she was gone from this

world, and as the thrill of having escaped death wore off, he for once

felt himself on the very edge of exhaustion.

He and Phee got Redric to his bed and then each went to their own,

just in time before dawn. All the while their peers slept heavy and

clueless in their beds. None of them would learn of the vile adventure

on the next day or in the years that followed. The very moment Devus

felt himself fading into sleep he could hear a voice merging from his

own mind. “You called upon the forces tonight and now Avrá is gone.“

It was not a memory of Redric’s accusation (his opinions usually went

in one ear and out the other), no, this was quite another voice. A

familiar one that had always seemed to be occupying a space inside of

him. It’d been quiet for some time, but he always trusted it’d return,

and it wasn’t entirely unwanted. Though sometimes cruel, he could

always rely on its honesty and so, he’d long since decided that he

respected it. It went on to say that he had not loved Avrá. Though he

had momentarily (while they were walking and things had seemed

good), wished that he could, he now felt relieved to hear this. You

should grieve the loss of loved ones. Instead, he was filled with fury

about the many ways she might have deceived him and wondering

who could possibly tell him about the Aragáti now that she was gone.

That could not be love. If so, love was such a cold and deceiving thing,

that he wanted nothing to do with it.

The last thing he thought as he turned to his back to sleep was:

“What if I’m truly less human and more something else...” Finally,

deep asleep he could hear the Aragáti's ancient songs and drums - like

long, heavy sounds of grief. The world seemed to know it had lost

something treasurous that night, and that there was no easy way of

getting it back. But the sadness that entered him there, in the best in-

between he could currently access, was mostly like a distant breeze.

One that couldn’t be grasped or even remembered when he awoke. In

the morning they all gathered for breakfast as usual. Everyone but

Redric, who said he’d been practicing his fencing at night. That’d he’d

been uncareful, and that in the darkness he’d managed to pierce

himself. Though his eyes had flickered and the tale seemed strange,

their teachers had believed him (Redric never lied after all) and they

brought all kinds of herbal remedies to heal the wound. His recovery

would be slow and painful, but not worse than his worry about being

confronted, punished and shamed for what they’d done that night. For

what they’d lost. With far less care and anxiety, Devus awaited

similar events - the chase that would always follow when something

precious went missing in the fortress, but they would both be waiting

long and in vain.

Never would they learn that Nicholas Teague had discovered the

missing item, as they’d been right below his feet. It had taken him less

than an instant to suspect his son. As he’d sighed, shut the drawer and

walked around his study for what seemed an eternity, unusual ideas

had come to him. As unacceptable as he considered the theft, any

mention of the compass would bring about far more complications

than resolutions. Questions he had no desire, nor enough

understanding to answer to. There was a deep guilt tied to the thing,

and he was at part relieved it was out of both his sight and

possession. It did not belong to him. It had never been his, and though

he didn’t believe it had fully belonged to that woman (one he’d falsely

called Delilah Bailey) either, she had both brought and left it behind

there. Nicholas Teague seldom found any counsel in Araktéan law, but

for once, on that strange night with a blood red moon glaring at him

through his window, the law of inheritance eased his conscience.

Perhaps it was not completely wrong to interpret that the compass

belonged to his son - or that he’d taken it. For all he knew, it was

meant to lead him wherever it was that he needed to go. Perhaps to

find that missing piece, just like the Parda had once told Nicholas that

he would, all those years ago. “Time will tell.” He’d thought, and his

decision had been made and his head finally met his pillow. He would

think the very same thing, each time Devus walked by him in the

hallways. Every time their eyes met and on the rare occasions that

they spoke - as his strange son would smile, and not a single shade of

guilt or concern touched his features. As many moons passed, they’d

both be relieved to see less and less of each other, as Devus would

resume reading his books and wandering through his tunnels at

night. Thinking hard and deep of many things that were simpler to

grasp than the secrets that might be buried within his veins. Dark

secrets that he’d someday - some day soon - would be dying to learn.