I have been asked before what I believe my legacy will be, which I maintain is a nonsensical question. Every man should live as humbly as the least important beggar, and as nobly as the hero whose path it is to save the world.
Who could tell which I am? Even if I think myself one, in the mont of my death I may find myself the other. Do not live for legacy, nor for purpose. Master being the beggar in monts of privation. Master being the hero in monts of need. Live each mont as perfectly as you are able, for no one knows what the next may bring.
- Saleh Taskin, On Reclamation, 687
Michael managed to wring a few hours of sleep from the nights remnants before Amira roused them for their compulsory breakfast. It passed quickly, and by the ti the sun had pierced the trees overhead they had set out.
They did not travel far, stopping before mid-day at a Safid camp that stretched away across a green, grassy adow that had been churned to grey mud within its boundaries. The officer at the gate nearly fell in his haste to genuflect before Amira, who returned an amused nod without breaking stride.
This is where I leave you, she said, guiding them at an unhurried walk through the rows of tents. Id happily take you the rest of the way, but Esrou would react poorly if I were to be discovered within its borders uninvited - again. She smiled, giving the distant countryside a fond look. A pity. We have an understanding with certain people that will allow you to reach Esonne, and from there you may travel by rail down the coast to Sau.
She looked back at Sobriquet. Be wary between Sau and the gates of ndian. It is one of the few places that Ardalt will feel sure of finding you, and you will not have my aid. It would be a pity for you to co so far only to stumble at the last steps.
Sobriquet inclined her head. Well keep our eyes open, she said. Thank you for these past few days, Shield. It has been - instructive. She extended her hand to Amira, who shook it with an easy grin.
And thank you for your companionship, Seeker, Amira said. May we both be better, when next we et. She turned to Michael. And you, Caller.
He took her proffered hand; her grip was surprisingly normal. Please give my thanks to Saleh for the book, he said. And thank you, for your help. I hope that our next eting will be as pleasant.
Her hand tightened on his as she leaned in, her voice dropping low. Find the truth of yourself in the north, she purred. When we et again I would see your utmost. She released his hand and brought her fingers to her lips, then her forehead - then turned, walking away without another word.
Charles walked up to stand beside Michael, watching her leave. Im happy for you, he said quietly. Youll make beautiful babies, if you survive.
Michael gave him a flat look. I think you misheard her, he said. Im fairly certain she just promised to kill .
Perhaps you both misheard, sighed Sobriquet. Quiet for a bit, I think this gentleman coming over is our next chaperone. She turned to smile at an officer who bowed deeply to their group, coming up with his hand shading his eyes.
Great Seeker, he said. Great Caller. I would lead you to your crossing, if it please you both.
Sobriquet smiled. It rather does, she said. Lead on.
The man began to walk without another word. At one of the tents, very much like the others in its row, he turned and held open the canvas flap. They filed in only to find the tent empty, save for a rough wooden staircase descending into the ground.
A tunnel? Sobriquet asked. Does this go all the way under the Esroun lines?
The officer licked his lips, glancing at her. My apologies, Great Seeker - although the Great Fla directed us to help you cross, he also specifically wrote that-
Sobriquet waved him off. Yes, yes, she sighed. Ill stop asking questions about military infrastructure, I was just curious. When the officer did not move, she quirked an eyebrow and gestured towards the stairs.
The man fairly leapt down into the darkness. Michael bent to follow, descending the wooden stairs until he stood in a surprisingly spacious tunnel, wide enough for two n to walk comfortably abreast. It was similar in construction to the tunnel they had traversed at the Ardan front, and Michael found himself wondering if the Safid had a surplus of talented artifices, to have tunneled so extensively.
A cool wind blew from the far end of the tunnel, heavy with the scent of soil and damp stone. The officer fetched a lantern from a box by the stairs, lit it and gestured for them to follow.
Quietly, if you please, he said. The Esroun sotis have auditors on station.
They walked for what felt like hours, passing by junctions and small rooms as they went. So of them held crates, while others were empty or showed long paths stretching off into the dark. The Safid were as industrious in peace as in war, it would appear. Michaels imdiate impression was that if hostilities between Saf and Esrou were ever to resu, the Esroun were in for a rude surprise.
At last, the officer slowed; the hallway ca to an end in front of them, a ladder and hatch leading upward. The officer took the first few rungs and knocked lightly on the underside of the hatch. Michael heard footsteps before the hatch opened, a portly mans face peering down to take them all in.
Co on, then, he hissed. Be quick.
One by one, they climbed up. Michael was the last to ascend; he was surprised to find himself in what appeared to be the back room of a hardware store. The officer and the portly man were conversing in low voices next to so crates. After a mont, the officer handed the man a bag; Michael heard the clink of coin as it disappeared into a pocket.
He offered a similar bag to Sobriquet. So local currency for the train and sundries, he said. The Great Fla wishes you luck. He also wrote to tell you- The officer licked his lips again. His note said only Until tomorrow. I apologize, but I do not know-
Its all right, Sobriquet said, giving him a tight smile and taking the bag. I understand. Thank you for walking us over. She tucked the coins away and straightened up, looking at the rooms two doors. Which way to the train station?
Out the rear door and to the left, then down the street. the portly man said. And if anyone asks-
Ill assu you sold us out and describe you in exceeding detail to the authorities, Sobriquet said, smiling at him. So I suppose wed best hope that doesnt happen.
The man paled and took a step back, darting an outraged look at the Safid officer, who stared at Sobriquet in confusion. She turned and walked out the door, beckoning for the others to follow.
When the door had shut behind them, Michael turned to her. What was that for? he asked. He just wanted us to pretend we didnt see him.
Probably, Sobriquet said. But you heard Salehs note. Next ti we et well probably be trying to kill each other. She smiled back at the closed door; raised voices ca from within. And I make a point of irritating my enemies where I can. Co on, lets not waste ti - I doubt a town this size has many trains to choose from.
Michael followed her, bemused, and found himself erging from an alley into a broad, dusty street. Aside from a cart and a few n loading it, there was nobody around. The train tracks lay past the buildings opposite them.
It looked like any of the small towns Michael had seen on the continent thus far, sowhat anticlimactically, although none of those had boasted a train. The difference mainly seed to manifest in a proliferation of wagons hauling goods to and from the station, and in the number of bars and brothels he could spot openly plying their trade on the main street.
The station itself was modest, a low building with a clay-tile roof that huddled near the tracks. Sobriquet nudged Charles, whispering a few words in his ear; he nodded and took the bag of coin from her hand.
He walked up to the station office with a disconcertingly-pleasant smile. Good day, he offered cheerfully. Six, north to Arenga.
A man leaned forward to peer at him from behind the window, then grunted. Theres one heading out shortly, he said. Seventy-two liards in total.
Charles nodded and upended the bag in his hands, then affected a worried expression and rooted around in his pockets for a few more coins. Michael had to applaud the theatrics; he was sure there had been at least twice the coin in the bag as Charles now held, but the station agent would now rember him as nearly penniless.
On the platform, with his ticket in hand, Michael exchanged a glance with Vernon; the auditor shrugged and smiled, sitting on a bench with his hands laced behind his head. Emil, too, took his ease.
Michael looked around. There were few people in sight; so blackened workn were shoveling coal at the far side of the tracks while a small knot of soldiers sat on their bags further down the platform.
He looked at the soldiers, though he did not turn his head - they were Esroun, clad in drab grey with gold piping on their collars. After a monts observation he realized that they were slightly drunk, and likely younger than he was.
It was strangely odd to watch them - soldiers, like so many others he had seen, but not from a country embroiled in war. He had always thought the Esroun armistice foolish; Ricard had grumbled his condemnations of it whenever the topic arose. Now that he was actually in Esrou he saw what it had bought them.
The soldiers were happy, relaxed, free of the dread and stress that hung over Ardan soldiers like a cloud. So of their cheer derived from a flask of spirits they were passing around, admittedly, but the difference was stark.
He looked over and saw Luc watching them too, his eyes darting sideways in furtive movents when he thought they werent looking.
How does it feel? Michael asked. To be back in Esrou, I an.
Luc blinked, seeming mildly startled to be addressed; a mont later he shook his head. Its just another country, he said. This place, here - its nothing like what I knew. Even if we went to Tenouf, I dont imagine wed see the parts of the city I rember. He looked out toward the tracks, his eyes tracking them into the distance. So people are born into a bubble, yes? Nobody outside sees in, and nobody inside sees out. They live and die in it.
Michael nodded, pursing his lips. Maybe you could go back soday. Learn how to use your soul to heal, help so of the people there.
Why? Luc asked.
The two n exchanged an incredulous look.
Why? Michael asked. Id have thought you would want to help them.
Lucs eyebrows drew together; after a mont he shook his head. You dont understand, he said. Nobody can help them. Those people, theyll never leave the slum they were born into. He plucked agitatedly at the wrappings over his hands.
I thought the sa thing, once. That the doctor had helped us, lifted us up from our misery. Luc shook his head. That he was raising us well to balance injustices from his own youth, or so similar notion. That wasnt it at all, though. It wasnt until he died and the Ardans ca that I realized.
He smiled at Michael. They put us on a boat, sent us to the front. Three of us died the first day in the camp, and do you know what the others said? Not that we should find a way out, or that we should take care of each other to make it through. No - they talked of finding soone to save them. And I knew then why the doctor took boys from the orphanage.
Luc spread his hands, palms opened to show the dirty, ragged cloth within. Because that is where you find empty people. We werent the control group because we had no souls, we were the control group because we were never going to get a soul. Each boy in that group had endured suffering past anything the white-shirts had seen, but its not suffering that draws souls. Its hope. Hope that you could overco the mont, if you but had the strength.
Michael blinked, taken aback at Lucs lancholy tirade; he could feel the conviction and sorrow rolling off of him in waves as he spoke - and always, always the fear running underneath. You have a soul, he said. Do you think youre so worthless?
I have a soul, Luc agreed, holding up his hands, fingers splayed. But I didnt earn it. I thought at first that it had passed to because Claude had cared for , but I couldnt - I cant believe that. Watching you, I began to think that the doctor had changed . I thought he had changed both of us.
He gestured to Michael, smiling despite a pain that nearly blurred Michaels vision. But the other day, when you took that mans soul - I realized that I was wrong. The doctor didnt give you anything. You didnt need him to be - what you are.
Nobody needed him, Michael said darkly. Not , and not you. Whatever brought that soul to you was yours alone.
Luc laughed and shook his head. Youre wrong, he said. But wrong in the best way. I dont have anything this soul would have wanted. It ca to because of you. A trains whistle sounded from far down the track, and Luc turned to look at it. If the change cos from you, and not the doctor - maybe theres so hope for both of us after all.
He turned the rest of the way to watch the train as it pulled in, leaving Michael feeling sowhat lost. The feeling persisted as he followed the others up the step and found a seat; the cramped car held only benches, however, and the proximity of the other passengers made him reluctant to pursue the topic further.
With a sigh, he pulled Salehs book from his pocket and flipped through it for the page he had last read.
At this last, the Caller drew himself up with indignation, asking who would bring malice against a righteous man who sought only to walk his fated path. The Seer cast his arm out towards the darkening sky, proclaiming that his visions had been plagued of late by one such.
This man, the Seer said, felt nothing but envy when he thought on the perfection of the One. He burned with covetous greed at the sight of the divine in others, and that greed begat madness in his breast. With lies and base treachery he drew travelers from the path, ripping out their living hearts to swallow whole.
In this way the man grew powerful, glutted on the stolen fragnts of the divine. Heart-eater, the Seer nad him, shouting it under the sky for all to hear. Heart-eater, he who sought to supplant the divine.
This last passage was underlined in a heavy pen. In the margin there was text in Salehs hand, reading: the Ardan Speaker aspires to his path.
Michael closed the book once more and slid it back into his pocket, letting his eyes stray to the window. The train had not yet begun to move, and all he could see was the empty expanse of the platform.
Problem? Sobriquet asked, leaning forward to crane her head over his shoulder. You just - learned sothing, I can tell.
Wordlessly, Michael withdrew the book from his pocket once more. He opened it to the flyleaf, letting Sobriquet see Salehs ssage exhorting him to find himself in its pages - then turned to the page he had read. Heart-eater, the Seer nad him
Sobriquet looked up from the page, her eyes eting Michaels.
Ah, she said. Sohow, I dont think thats what he had in mind.
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