n are not alone in bearing divinity; it is in every raindrop and stone, every tree and beast. In this we are not set apart from the rest. What lifts man up from unthinking nature is that we see the divine other and know it as kin.
This is why rcy is solely the province of n. Do not beg the sea for kindness or the storm for its forbearance. The world does not weep at the sight of blood.
- The Book of Eight Verses, the Verse of Growth. (New Kheman Edition, 542 PD)
They had barely made it to the front lines when the first bullets began to fly by, forcing them to dive into the deserted forward trench. Michael ducked down as mud spattered from the impacts overhead, wooden boards splintering and sandbags spilling from the barrage.
I thought you had us veiled? Charles yelled. How in Ghars moldy-
Sobriquet cut him off with a snarl. Sibyl again, she snapped. Shes out there pointing the way for the riflen. Her eyes found Michael, and she jerked her head back at the soldiers. Think you can do sothing about that?
Michael blanched. He could not think of Sofia with the sa fondness as he had weeks ago, but neither was he enthused at the prospect of trying to kill her. A bullet spanged off an iron fitting overhead, making him flinch; whatever his thoughts on attacking Sofia, she had evidently overco any reluctance concerning the reverse.
He steeled himself and sent his sight upward to the point where he could see the small group of riflen firing from the rear trench. They humd with an odd silence as he watched them; the obruor blanketing them with his soul had stripped away their fear and much else besides. Amid the grim-faced mass of n it did not take long to locate Sofia, with Vincent crouched ready behind her. His sight wheeled upward to the storm overhead. The fla in his chest flared, he grit his teeth-
And nearly collapsed at the effort, the storms imbalance not yet ready for another connection between cloud and ground. No path marred the air, no thunderbolt sketched down to strike the riflen.
He sagged against the trench wall, panting, and shook his head. Sorry, he said. Its not working.
Sobriquets eyes narrowed, and Michael realized that he had lied to her. It had not worked, and he had tried - but he had felt relief when he failed. He was not sorry in the least.
She sighed and shook her head, looking northward. Damn, she spat. I was hoping to avoid this, but it seems like were out of options. Michael, watch them. If they charge- She paused, then shook her head. Im sure youll think of sothing. I shouldnt need long.
Before Michael could protest, her eyes fluttered shut; she was projecting her avatar once more. He swept his sight around but did not see her near Sofias n. What he did see was another group of soldiers running between trenches to join them, scrabbling across the shell-pocked soil to take up a firing position.
Charles and Emil fired at them, though it was mostly a symbolic effort given that they only bore sidearms. Nevertheless it spurred the Ardans to move carefully, slowly. Luc and Vernon huddled unard at the bottom of the trench, a grimace contorting the auditors face. Lucs face was blank, his eyes resolutely turned away from Michael.
Vernon raised his head. Theyre preparing to charge, he said. Theyre bracing - yes, here they co.
Sure enough, Michael saw the Ardan troops spill over the rim of the trench, eerily silent under their obruors aegis. There were no battle cries, no calls to courage and glory - they ran expressionlessly forward, clutching their weapons tightly.
Charles and Emil redoubled their efforts - until their ammunition ran dry. Charles glared at the pistol and wordlessly reshaped it into a sinuous blade of tal, its wooden grips clattering to the ground. Emil swallowed hard and pulled a knife from his belt.
Sweat beaded on Michaels brow as he watched the soldiers charge closer. Their bayonets glead dully in the light filtering through the clouds. He tested the air once more and found the storm intractable, resistant to another strike so soon after the last.
He abandoned the thought, sliding back to more familiar ground. Clairs fla burned within him as rust blood from the soldiers weapons, barrels flaking and chanisms freezing tight with orange florets. They looked down in confusion; Michael only grimaced and turned to the next group of n.
A bare mont after he focused on them, explosions ripped through the charging soldiers. Dirt flew, blood spilled; Michael glimpsed the chaos for only a mont before the world went dark.
He blinked, looking around and seeing only blackness. A rush of warmth swept over them, the air turbid and suddenly stifling. Shells continued to burst unseen in the space between the trenches, filling the air with thunder and the screams of n dying in the dark.
Get ready to run! Sobriquet shouted. Charles, Michael, in front! Theres wire a few paces ahead of the trench, well need a path through.
Michael held Stanza close, drawing on the soul until mirror-light shone bright around him. Luminous outlines hung around the others, dimr light clinging to the contours of the trench. He saw Charles look incredulously in the direction of Sobriquets voice.
How am I supposed- Charles began, cutting off as Vernon stood and walked over to grab his arm.
Keep hold of , the auditor said, his voice almost lost against the roar of the barrage. Ill lead you to the wire.
Sobriquet stood and tapped Emil on the shoulder. Youre with , she said. Michael, can you guide Luc?
I can, he replied, walking over to where Luc was shivering at the trenchs bottom. He saw the other mans head lift at the vibration of the boards, saw him shrink back from an imagined touch. Michael bent down and spoke as quietly as he could amid the shelling.
You need to take my hand, he said, holding it out. Luc couldnt see it, but it seed right to extend it regardless. Please, Luc. Im not going to hurt you.
Luc stared blankly in Michaels direction for a long mont, long enough that Michael nearly spoke again - but then one hand tentatively extended outward, trembling.
Michael took it and pulled Luc upright, leading him over to where Sobriquet stood by Emil, her foot braced on a step up out of the trench.
I assu this is your doing? Michael said.
The outline of Sobriquets face turned toward him, he caught the edges of a pained look on her face. I was hoping to avoid entanglents on the Safid side of the lines, she sighed. I had - hoped a lot of things. She shook her head. Would have been easier if we could have walked through unnoticed.
Michael nodded. And now?
Now were expected. Her hand gripped the wooden boards, her feet braced against the step. Get ready. The shelling will end soon. Clear the far wire, let Charles take the nearest fence.
His sight soared upward, finding the thin tracery of light that glowed from the wires. He did not wait; he narrowed his focus on it and willed it to corrode. The lack of sight made it surprisingly difficult, and if he had not spent a good portion of the last hour rusting various things he doubted that he would have found any success here.
One last explosion sounded in the distance, shaking the hot, dark air and sending bits of rusted wire tumbling to the ground. A beat of silence followed.
Now! Sobriquet cried, scrambling upward.
Michael grit his teeth and followed, reaching back to help Luc up over the wooden edge. A hot wind blew above the trench, carrying with it the sll of burnt powder and cooked flesh. He took Lucs hand, squeezed it through the sweat-drenched wrappings - and began to run north.
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