Void to Soulless

3

Caru’s eyes creaked open against the morning sunlight. Grimacing, he waved a hand skyward and sagged against the rooftop with a sigh when an aethereal haze failed to appear. He cursed the previous two weeks and every attempt he’d made to draw aether during that time. On a Soulless night, he could escape a tightly-guarded prison; the next morning, he couldn’t even summon shade.

Damn the humans.

“You’re quite the sleeper, you know?”

Caru pushed himself upright and back against the short wall that surrounded the roof. He looked over the rooftop and noticed a human woman. Black hair, green eyes, smiling weakly. Familiar. “What do you know?” he whispered.

She laughed. “Only that you didn’t kill me last night, so that was nice of you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You blew up a large part of the armory last night and killed a lot of people. But I can’t say there’s any love lost between myself and the military now, so I followed you. You helped me out of a bind there, so I feel like I owe you.”

He studied her for a moment. She’d been in the kitchens as he made his escape. “I know you, don’t I?”

A nod. “Yes. We’ve met several times at the inn I used to work at. Bard’s Path. We’ve spoken, but mostly in the form of me bringing you food.”

“Why are you here now? Why were you there last night?”

“That’s for later,” she said. “For now, we have to get out of here.”

Caru frowned. “We?”

The woman sighed and squatted down before sitting and leaning on the ledge opposite him. “They probably haven’t noticed I’m gone yet, but they’ll definitely notice you’re gone. I don’t intend to stay back until they remember me, though. Besides, I’m guessing you’re flat broke, and I can smell that coat from here. I’ll do what I can to get you out of here, but we’re going together.”

“I don’t even know your name,” Caru said.

“Mieta,” she replied. “And I remember that you’re Caru, right? Caru Freehaven?”

He nodded.

“Then let’s go. We can head over to my place to get some money and a change of clothes from my parents, and at least let them know I’m alive. I haven’t talked to them since I was taken to the armory, so they’re probably worried about me.”

“There were others,” Caru said.

“Others?” she asked.

“Other ermen. At least I think there were.” Odd. “You haven’t mentioned how you knew me as an erman but don’t seem surprised to see me as I am now.”

She hunched her body into a ball before visibly forcing herself to relax. “I don’t want to talk about that right now,” she said.

Caru sniffed. “There were at least three of us. I doubt more. You see what the damn humans did to me. You think Serana didn’t do as much to them, or worse?” His head sagged, but he didn’t let himself cry, whether in despair or rage. He looked east, into the rising sun, and winced. “They took it all from me, and now they’re probably going to kill me for it. Now I’m supposed to trust you, of all people? You were there. You had to have known.”

Mieta blinked, but said nothing.

“So it’s like that, then. Well, I guess I’m probably going to die some way in all of this.”

“I’m going to get you out of this,” she said.

“And you think I should trust you on those words?”

She looked up, met his eyes. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Mieta looked into his eyes, bore into them. “Because I’m a coward. That’s why. I’m a coward, and I’ll die a coward if I don’t do something. Trust me, it’s because I can’t live with myself. Let me do one brave thing.”

Caru threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m not leaving the city until I at least look for them,” he said.

“You should be trying to get out,” Mieta said.

“I should, but I need to at least say that I looked.”

She sighed. “Fine, so go look. It might be better for us to separate while I get things sorted out, anyway. After what they did, they’ll be looking for you harder than they’ll be looking for me. I haven’t heard much about other sites yet, but I think there are going to be a lot of missing people in addition to the dead, so hopefully they’ll assume I’m one of them. I’m going to go back to my place for the night, if it’s safe. I’ll get a few changes of clothes and try to find some for you, take some money, and then I’ll be at the train station tomorrow morning. I’m not saying we should leave by train, but it’s somewhere to meet. If you’re able to find another way out, take it. I’ll be fine on my own if you can get out, but I’m going to help you if I can.”

“Why’s that?”

She stood up and waved a hand. “I had no hand in what they did to you, but I still feel the need to make it right, somehow. Go. See if you can find others, if there are others, and we’ll bring them along if we can. Check the Portal or the embassy. The guards are on alert, so be careful anywhere you go.” Mieta went to the ledge where the top of the ladder peeked over. “I hope you’ll be there tomorrow, though.” Then she descended the ladder and was gone.

Caru sagged back into place and exhaled. She’ll probably get me killed, he thought. But, she did have a point; he wasn’t going to get far without some money and clothing. He sighed and stood, then looked out over the expanse of Garenesh from his vantage point.

Midmorning sun over the Seranian capital was warm but not wholly unpleasant. High breezes blew across the roof he had claimed for his own. He shouldered his stolen jacket on once more, wincing when the cloth slid easily over his back where wings should be, and was grateful to find that time spent in the open had helped to ventilate the rank smell, if only slightly. Though still grimy and stained, it did not assail his nose as he looped buttons together up the front. Dressed again, he stood on the roof ledge to peer over Garenesh. Buildings poked and prodded at the sky across the sprawling city, but only a handful of spires in the city’s heart truly stabbed at it. The Celestial Palace, home to Blood-Emperor Theop.

Caru spat at the thought.

Everything about Serana was vile now.

Normally, the sky would be filled with ermen, their wings outstretched to ride the low winds. Caru’s back itched, muscles flexing impotently at thoughts of returning to flight. Humans stripped him of that, and he still didn’t know why.

He would burn every one of them responsible if he were able.

Two weeks since they had cornered him at Bard’s Path on the night of the Void Moon.

He shook his head. No, best not to linger on those thoughts.

Had Mieta been a part of that? He did recall a few brief conversations with her there over the past few years, but it wouldn’t be that odd to find her working in an armory kitchen. The innkeeper could also have been a part of it, though Caru had always thought him to be a good man. It could as easily have been the merchant planning to sell him the marble, though, or one of that man’s employees. It could have been a beggar across the street. It could have been the large woman who always sat near the door with a cudgel next to her chair. He exhaled a sigh of frustration. He wondered if anyone had told them why they were buying information on ermen staying in the city during Void. Probably not. Even so, Caru had likely been sold out for a few coins, and the tattling human had destroyed his life. Mieta could have been a part of that, but she did seem earnest in her desire to help, and she had helped him escape the tower. Maybe it would count for something. She’ll probably get me killed, he thought again as he tried to focus.

No ermen today, though. Serana had probably ordered the Portal locked down, so there would likely only be a token handful in the Trade Plaza. More likely, Sentinels would be posted at the other side of the Portal in Detrina to let the civilians there know that there was no travel. Still, not a bad idea to at least go to the Trade Square and see.

From the rooftop’s eastern ledge, he saw a human launch from one of the Celestial Palace’s upper platforms, a solder borne aloft on a glider, a contraption of wood and canvas that would let them drift across currents for long distances. Though he could not make out details at such a distance, Caru knew that the dark blotch across the canvas formed the crest of Serana’s Holy Shield. The only people launching from the Celestial Palace would be Seranian military.

As the first Glider wheeled about the castle, another launched. And another. Another. Gliders dove off the ledge and flew over all points of the city. Soon it seemed there would be more gliders in the air than ermen. Birds, for that matter. The military was determined to find and recapture last night’s escapees.

Escapees? The possible plural still gave him hope. Smoke still poured weakly from different parts of the city. He wondered if any of the others had been recaptured yet. Even as he thought of them, he finally noticed the buildings where the bulk of smoke still billowed. Only two others beside his own prison, but they both ended as jagged monstrosities, opened ceilings gaping to the heavens. So much destruction made it seem as though Caru had tip-toed out of prison by comparison.

A Glider slipped toward the central train station and made several passing arcs. The Glider was of no particular threat to Caru, but only minutes remained before one would think to inspect the western rooftops.

Caru crossed the roof, descended the ladder, and pushed himself from the bottom rung into a long stride out of the alley. Mingling among the bustling morning crowds would make it easier to escape the notice of the Gliders, but there was still the concern over human bloodmages. As humans were kept from knowing the ermen’s true capabilities, so did they keep their own secrets. Most of their abilities would guide them toward military service, but surely they were not so strictly limited.

As he walked the streets of Garenesh, he realized his bumbling stagger was real now, not just a show to mimic drunkenness. Sunlight was brighter to his eyes than before his imprisonment, and milling throngs of people disoriented him as he was gently nudged back and forth.

If anyone in the crowds noticed his jacket’s stains or odor, none said anything. Yet he did not know how long his luck would hold. Could bloodmages sense the blood of others? Caru had only been able to hastily rinse his arms of blood once since his escape, after all. His arms were not stained when he looked at them earlier, but the scent might still remain. Could they distinguish between the blood of murder and a half-hearted lie about being clumsy? How long before someone asked him more prying questions? How long before a proper interrogation?

A Glider’s shadow flashed across the street ahead. Caru flinched, but he bowed his head and pressed forward. Jumping at shadows would only make him more conspicuous. The Gliders moved quickly, but their use would be heavily hampered over one of the world’s largest cities. Still, Caru breathed a rushed prayer of thanks that he thought to leave the roof when he did. He kept his head down as he walked, hands stuffed into the pockets of his brown woolen breeches.

He forced himself to try to think of a plan.

The first step would be to find if the other ermen survived the night. Sure, they had caused more destruction than he, but that didn’t necessarily mean that they were successful. Although Caru himself made short work of most of the fortress’s guards, there had been that moment of vulnerability before leaving the building. Had the others escaped before aether had abandoned them? Were they as strong as he? Surely so, if they had done as much damage as the opened buildings indicated. But then, they hadn’t destroyed half the city, only other isolated buildings. Likely they were as strong, but no more. Probably similarly maimed, with just enough power to feel Rythellas’s effects before burning out, like he had.

He came to the next intersection, looked up to find Cirellias, and turned westward toward it. Caru decided to check the Trade Plaza first to see if any of the others would try to find some way to access the Portal. If nothing came to light there, he could approach the embassy to perhaps plead his case if he was able to make it there. If it was inaccessible, that would leave the train depot and the gates, and he already had plans for the depot, in the event Mieta could be trusted.

Even though Garenesh was linked to his home in Detrina, there was so much he didn’t know about this city. He thought the few newspapers were all owned and operated as an outlet of the Seranian Empire.

He was trying to think of popular bars and inns among ermen when a wave of silence came over the street, moving nearer to him. People gave bloodmages and their entourages a wide berth when walking through city streets.

Caru held his breath as the splitting crowd pushed him near the gated entrances to a long row of houses. He kept his head down in an effort to not stand out. In an effort to not stop and stare and tremble in fear, for that matter. Keep your head down, don’t look at the skullbashing bloodmage. Vision tunneled in a panic as he looked at the ground, but he restrained himself. He prayed not to break into a sweat as he swept his head up to look at the squadron. The two soldiers in the front would have been massive even without their heavy plated armor. Each had a shield strapped over his back and jagged singled-edged axes dangling from their hips. They looked bored, one of them actually yawning into a fist as they passed through the divided throng. Clinking and clanging softly, they moved like graceful boulders.

A single spearman walked behind them, using the haft of his long spear as a walking staff. The tip swept back and forth with each step, carving short arcs across the sky. He at least looked more alert, but still he looked tired and like he would rather be doing anything else.

The bloodmage himself walked behind the spearman, a grizzled swordsman with several knots of rank strolling at his side. Both appeared to be officers, but Caru was unfamiliar with military ranks. The tall bloodmage bore no weapons himself except for a small dagger in a scabbard against his left hip and steaming frozen vials of his blood on his right. Though he wore a long military coat, the bloodmage attire kept the sleeves cut off above the elbow. The dagger was not for enemies, but for the bloodmage to use on himself, and this particular one had crisscrossing scars along the lengths of both forearms. The blood-filled vials would be his first assault, but the dagger could split his veins for more resources in a heated battle. Though they always carried the daggers, it spoke to the situation’s severity that he walked the streets of Garenesh with the vials at all. A deep nick across a finger would be enough to blast this street into ash.

To their rear, another soldier, this one carrying a rifle. His eyes were more alert than the other soldiers, at least. As soon as Caru noticed the man, he was filled with fear at that vigilance. He averted his eyes to the ground before he might accidentally meet the man’s eyes.

As he looked down and shuffled against the fencing to his side, bits of conversation came to him as the squadron approached.

“—scorched the upper hallway’s interior,” the bloodmage said.

The swordsman nodded. “So I’d heard.”

“Did you get the report from the other sites?”

The swordsman whistled at the mention, but they passed from Caru’s hearing as the crowd closed up behind them. He wanted to hear more, but he wasn’t going to fall in behind the squadron, especially with that rifleman at the rear. Though the lead soldiers looked bored, that rifleman looked as though too much time had passed since his bullets last splattered some brains.

Realizing he still held his breath, Caru finally exhaled. He turned his head down again, eyes intent on the ground before him. It was a comfort at least to know that bloodmages couldn’t actually sense blood. At least not that of other people. A small comfort.

Still, he wished he could have gleaned more information about the other two sites. He knew both had been atrocities from hearing a single snippet of conversation, but he still did not know if the other ermen survived or had been recaptured or worse. If they lived, he could manage some leeway in his plans.

He glanced again to Cirellias, heading west before turning his eyes down.. Humans would kill him before he allowed himself to be their prisoner again.