Does history repeat itself, as is often claid? It would be so, were history an agent unto itself that could indulge in repetition. History as an entity does not exist in the present, however. History is the summation of past events through present eyes.
None should be surprised, therefore, to hear claims of patterns and cycles from historians - it is the ore for which such n mine, sifting away piles of dusty pages and dross until they are left with sothing that may be forged into relevant instruction for the present.
Yet other tals pass through their sieve to languish, simply because it was not what that particular man wished to reclaim. The Gharic pen ever selects the gold and silver from their own past to the exclusion of all else, so that their pages may gleam bright with rembrance.
They are welco to their gilded fantasy, and good riddance. The history they discard is written chiefly in iron and lead, and we have ample use for both.
- Saleh Taskin, On Reclamation, 687
Despite Sobriquets enthusiasm for contacting Luc, Clair did not imdiately move to him once they found the crowded, filthy tent in which he was kept. Instead, their group dispersed. Charles and Gerard went to watch the guard rotations at Severs camp, while Vernon trailed along to garner what intelligence he could via stray snippets of conversation.
Sobriquet itself was present, if not visibly-manifested; Michael had the impression that its obfuscation of their group grew more challenging when they were not all in the sa place - which they were not, as Clair and Michael stayed behind to observe Luc. A stray hummock of grass that bent traffic around it proved to be an ideal perch to watch the prisoners as they lay sprawled on thin straw mats or staring dully at the walls.
The object of their scrutiny had fallen asleep, both arms crossed protectively over his chest and legs tucked upward. He wore a patchwork of scraps to supplent his tattered shirt, including strips of cloth wound around his arms and legs, mismatched gloves and shoes barely visible under yet more cloth windings.
Whats his na? Clair asked. Or is that another secret?
Michael shook his head. Luc, he replied. Not sure if hes got a surna, he never offered and I never asked.
Seems kind of cold, to kill his loved ones and not even bother to find out his last na, Clair observed. Who were they? His parents? She leaned forward. His children?
No, Michael scowled. Ghars ashes, what kind of person do you think I am? Clair let out a sharp laugh, and Michael grimaced. Dont answer that. No, they were his - ntors, I guess. Hes an orphan, from Esrou, and these two took him in, raised him. They were-
He broke off, pondering his choice of words. They were good to Luc, from what I can tell, but they didnt care for him in return - actually, they were plotting to kill him in order to coerce . Michael smiled and shook his head. I never really considered it, but I probably saved his life.
And look at him now, Clair said, gesturing toward the squalid tent. So favor you did him.
Michael looked back at the prisoners, pursing his lips. I think it was inevitable, he said. Knowing what I know now. There were no happy paths leading away from where he was, no version of events where he got to keep his paradise. One way or another, he was always going to lose.
Clair gave him a wry grin. Thats the trouble, isnt it? she said. Everywhere you go, its always soone elses dream youre living. Were all just riding along, surviving day to day - or not. Your life, your happiness only matters if it matters to the drear. Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned closer to Michael.
So be careful with your decisions, she said. You get to dream too, with your soul and your secrets. For whatever reason, your choices matter to more than just you. Maybe even as much as - ah, Sobriquet.
For a mont Michael only stared back - then he found himself laughing. Clairs face shaded from perplexed to darkly offended before he collected himself, holding up a hand to forestall any retort she might make.
Im sorry, he said. I dont an to laugh. He took a breath, then t Clairs glowering eyes. I have had a soul for three months. Thats a matter of public record now that you know who I am, so I dont mind divulging it. My life until that point - well. You already know what manner of person my father is.
So you had an unkind childhood, Clair said, sounding unimpressed. There are many who could say the sa, although theirs did not leave them with a soul and a titled na.
For all the good thats done , Michael said. I got my soul because my father tied to a post and whipped until I died. Clairs eyes widened fractionally, but she said nothing. Michael shook his head.
Its not hyperbole, he said. I died. Saw the void at the end of everything, and I chose to step into it rather than go back to that life. It was the first choice I ever made that was truly my own - and it didnt matter. Events transpired, and thanks to a particularly talented anatons I was back in order within a few days - healthy, and ready to live out my fathers dream as his newly-ensouled son.
So how does that man end up here, infiltrating an Ardan camp on the front? Clair asked. Two murders later, I might add.
Michael spread his hands. A long and surprisingly boring story, and one that is unfortunately under the scope of my agreent with Sobriquet. Suffice to say, though, that I found myself moving from one dream to another, and none of them my own. He chuckled. Now I appear to be in Sobriquets.
Dont make it sound so dire, you volunteered for this expedition, Clair said. I wanted to leave you back at the safehouse.
That was the second choice Ive made, Michael said. So thanks for letting co along. It would have been demoralizing to get thwarted twice in a row.
Clair snorted. If you wanted to spite your father there were likely easier ways to go about it.
Maybe. Michael stretched, then stood. But this was the one I chose. He nodded his head towards the tent. It looks like the last of them just fell asleep. Are you sure you want to do this?
I am, Sobriquets faint voice said, coming thin and reedy from no place in particular. He will see Clair, and Clair alone. No one will hear you speak - but if he tries to inform a guard, kill him and run. There are limits to what I can hide.
Clair nodded, while Michael swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat. For all that his past interactions with Luc had been complex, even hostile, he did not relish the thought of watching the man die. He had been kind to Michael, and although they had found themselves at odds there had been little malice in Lucs actions. In many ways he was as much Sparks victim as anyone on that island.
He followed Clair as she walked over to the sleeping workers, threading her way past the bored guards and between the tangle of sleeping bodies until she stood over Lucs supine form. She looked down for a mont, then nudged him with the toe of her boot.
Lucs eyes flew open to settle on Clair, but he made no move to rise or pull away.
Hello, Luc, Clair said. Would you like to leave this camp?
How do you know my na? he whispered. Who are you? Are you- He bit back his words, looking unsure.
Clair gave him a self-amused smile - Michael sohow found her theatrics very reminiscent of Sobriquet, for all that the apparition lacked expressions. You dont have to whisper, she said. Nobody can hear us. Weve been watching you for so ti, and I think we can help each other.
Slowly, Luc sat up. Im listening, he said. Though I have little here to offer, yes?
Those wooden tokens that you all wear, Clair said. We need four of them, and clothing to match. Anything you rember about the inside of Severs compound would be helpful as well.
Luc gave a weak laugh. You want to be a prisoner too? he asked. A dangerous thing, in there. Those butchers will kill you on a whim. Raise your head, look at them too long, stand in the wrong place - you will find yourself with a slit throat, or worse. His eyes glittered feverishly, and he leaned forward. You work against these Ardans, though? You hope to hurt them?
Yes, Clair said. Thats the plan. Do you know where we can find the disguises well need?
The mania faded from Lucs eyes, and he sank back down. No shortage of the dead, he said. We all take from the fallen, and theres more every day. They pile the bodies just outside the camp to the north, with the rest of the garbage.
Clair nodded, then extended her hand down to Luc. Show , she said.
A haze of uncertainty passed over Lucs features, his fists clenching in their tattered gloves. Its death to be wandering loose, he said. We should wait until darkness.
And how do you think I got here? Clair said. Nobody will see us.
Luc reached up once more to make tentative contact with Clairs hand, flinching when he encountered her fingers as if he hadnt expected her to be real. His expression fird, and he rose unsteadily to his feet. Then we should go, he said. Clair motioned toward the tents exit, and the two of them left with Michael following behind.
The guard gave no reaction to their departure, which seed to brighten Lucs spirits further. He even managed a slight smile as he turned to look at Clair again. You never told how you knew my na, he said. Youve been watching , yes, but nobody here knows my na either. Its just you or prisoner when they call .
Clair returned the smile; Michael recognized it from when she had flirted with the checkpoint guards. What if I told you that I t a friend of yours? she said. If she saw Michaels alard expression, she gave no hint of it.
The smile died from Lucs face. Then you would be lying, he said, reaching under a fold of his rags. He withdrew a loose bunch of wooden tokens threaded with rope, clacking together as they moved. So were bloodstained, others gouged or scratched. These were my friends.
Im sorry, Clair said, a hint of genuine emotion in her voice. You were brought here together?
We lived together, Luc said. Before this. Were kept together. His face darkened, and he shook his head. It doesnt matter.
Clair nodded. The War takes from everyone, she said. Thats why were trying to end it, at least in this corner of the continent. We need your help to do it.
The War? Luc snorted. The War never took anything from . It was Ardans alone. I lost my life twice over and never even saw the front.
If not for the War theyd all be in Ardalt, doing whatever tickles their fancy, Clair said, shooting a surreptitious glance back at Michael. Not bothering good folks from the continent.
Ah, thats where youre wrong, Luc chuckled. They have a need to ddle. Ardans are forever upending the natural way of things and leaving chaos in their wake. Its a mindset more than a nationality, contagious and vile.
Michael received another arch look from Clair. It sounds like you have so rather specific grievances with them, she said.
They stole my life, Luc hissed. Both specific and general, yes? He clenched his fists, dried mud crusting from his gloves as they were squeezed between his fingers. Acted as a friend, to keep unawares, but all the while had nothing but contempt for .
Michael felt the anguish in Lucs voice on a visceral level. He had never ant to cause the man any pain, but the fact remained that he had done so. It was as Clair had said - Lucs life was not a priority for any of those making the choices that mattered, so he had been discarded.
Luc flung a hand outward angrily. And ! I did not see it, despite so many clues. I was blind, so blind that it took a bumbling idiot to upend my life before I was able to glimpse it - and by then it was too late.
Clair shot another amused glance back at Michael, who had frozen in place. Tell about this bumbling idiot, she said. Your description reminds of soone I know.
Ah, another Ardan - a real one this ti, straight from Calmharbor. Michael. Luc rolled his eyes, oblivious to Clairs sudden, delighted smile. Raised on a pile of money. Half the ti so unaware he was nearly walking into walls, the other half spouting platitudes. And special, yes? Because of course he was.
Luc made a disgusted noise. Managed to set a raving madman on , and when I ran for help the man who raised took back to the idiot and told him he was the most precious person in the world.
Clair lost her struggle against the laughter she had been holding back, nearly doubling over in mirth; Luc paused bemusedly in his rant to look.
Sobriquet, Michael said. Let him see .
There was the faintest of shimrs in the air, and a faint chuckle near his ear. I fail to see why I should, Sobriquet murmured. Im rather enjoying his story, and I dont think Ive seen Clair laugh like this in years.
A slightly-manic grin had taken root on Lucs face as well as he watched Clair laugh. Its ridiculous, yes? he chuckled. And then he shot the mad spector, strapped to a table-
Sobriquet! Michael said insistently. Let him see !
-started ranting about killing everyone on the island and making the perfect human, Luc spat. Then the other man who had raised ca in-
Michael stepped forward and shoved Luc, sending him stumbling back a few paces and interrupting his tirade. Shock and confusion replaced the anger on his face - which returned after a mont when his eyes locked directly onto Michael.
I suppose the ga is up, Sobriquet sighed.
You. Luc stalked forward, fists clenched. Of course its you, you ddling- His fist lashed out and took Michael across the jaw, dazzling his vision and pitching him sideways into the dirt. Luc hauled him up bodily by the collar, drawing his fist back for another blow - then collapsing nervelessly to the ground as a sparkling hand materialized to tap him on the forehead.
As entertaining as this has been, Sobriquet said, sounding sowhat strained, I must ask you to be quiet and still for a short while. You are becoming increasingly taxing to conceal. There was a pause. That ans you as well, Clair.
Clair straightened up from where she had knelt half-paralyzed by laughter, wiping tears from her eyes. Sorry, she said. Its just - precious- She clapped a hand over her mouth once more.
Sobriquet gave a buzzing sigh. Take a mont if you must, it said. But move our new friend out of the path, at least. Theres little I can do if he gets run over by a cart.
Clair nodded, pressing her lips together, and Michael rose to his feet with a scowl. You let him punch , he said.
Just once, Sobriquet replied. It seed healthy. Besides, its quite a step up from him swearing an oath of vengeance and haunting your footsteps until the day he could bathe in your blood - or whatever other nonsense you had convinced yourself he would do.
It seed reasonable at the ti, Michael muttered, bending down to slip his arms under Lucs shoulders and pull. He felt another wayward pang of sympathy; the other man was horrifically light. Clair collected herself enough to pick up his dragging legs, though she evidently did not trust herself to speak yet.
Sobriquet humd. Nobody could deny that your life is significant, it said. Least of all after hearing that story, I should say. Nevertheless, you should allow for the likelihood, the possibility, the rest sliver of chance that you are not as important to others as you imagine yourself to be.
Yes, fine, Michael scowled. I will allow that I was in error, although I doubt that will stop you from harping on about it forever.
Thats re embarrassnt speaking, Sobriquet said. I have no doubt as the sting fades, you will find the mory of this day to be quite precious indeed.
Clair dropped Lucs legs and collapsed to the ground once more. Michael sighed, set his feet, and kept pulling.
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