Page 297 of Of Empires and Dust

A hand rested on Arden’s shoulder – Ruon’s. “Come, brother. There is no peace to be found here.”

Arden nodded, then turned and walked with his captain back through the Rift.

Chapter 71

Sleep Well

20thDay of the Blood Moon

Temple of Achyron – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

Kallinvar stoodon the steps that led from Ardholm to the great temple, looking out over the city that had become his second home. The clouds covered everything beyond the cliff edge, seeming as immutable as the mountains they caressed. The moon’s light bled into them, tarnishing any beauty they had once held.

He had heard Efialtír’s voice in that chamber. Just as he knew every knight had. He could feel the fear radiating from their Sigils, the panic. Either Efialtír was growing stronger and closer to this world, or he was growing desperate. Neither option calmed Kallinvar’s mind.

Kallinvar glanced up at the statues of the first knights that watched over the temple doors. Thousands of years those statueshad stood, their watch unending, their will unbroken. Brother-Captain Arturius and Sister-Captain Cleotan.

Watch over us, brother and sister. I fear the night grows darker.

Red light spilled over Kallinvar’s shoulder as he climbed the steps and passed through the wicket gate set into the temple doors. The halls echoed with the sound of footfalls and chatter, pots clanging, and young porters flitting about like bees. They were all welcome sounds to Kallinvar’s ears. He’d never liked silence.

As Kallinvar walked, Ildris, Arden, and Kevan stepped from a doorway ahead that led to the Soul Vault.

“You acquitted yourselves well today, brothers. They would all be proud.” Of the three, Arden’s Sigil ached of pain the most. The man had taken Lyrin’s loss as deep as a blade. The fault had lain with all three of them – Arden, Lyrin, and Kallinvar himself. Arden for separating from the rest of the chapter, Lyrin for following him, and Kallinvar for allowing it to happen. He was the Grandmaster. Their lives were his treasure to guard, his burden to hold.

“You were a Knight of Achyron today, more than any other day,” Kallinvar said, grasping Brother Kevan’s shoulder. Where Arden’s Sigil held pain, Kevan’s was wrapped in doubt and worry. “You were born for this, chosen by Achyron himself. Do not doubt that, brother.”

When Kallinvar turned to continue on his way, Brother Arden touched his arm.

“A moment, Grandmaster?”

“Walk with me.” Kallinvar gestured along the corridor that led to the Watchers’ chambers. He knew what was coming. He didn’t need to feel Arden’s Sigil. “What plagues you?”

“My brother. While Ruon and the others eat, I would ask that I can see him. That I can ensure that he is all right, and my sister… I need to know how she is.”

“He is well, brother. I watched the dragon vanish into the skies myself. And of your sister I can give you no reassurance other than your presence will do little for her recovery.”

“I understand, Grandmaster, but if I can?—”

“Listen to me carefully,” Kallinvar said, stopping in front of Arden. He did not like the words he knew he must speak, but he had little choice. “Your duty is to this knighthood above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Grandmaster.” Conflict pulsed from the man.

“There is a reason we must shed our past lives, Arden. Being two people at once creates division in our minds, splits our loyalty – a loyalty thatmustbe singular. You know why Lyrin died. I need not beat you round the head with it.”

Arden’s jaw slackened, his gaze shifting to the floor.

“I can accept mistakes. I have made thousands in my lifetime, tens of thousands. What I cannot accept is the repeating of a mistake. Wear your missteps like armour, brother. Wrap them around you so that you may always know them and not be doomed to suffer for them twice over. And so, I say again – your duty is to this knighthood.”

“The duty of the strong is to protect the weak, Grandmaster.” Arden pressed his fist to his chest. “I will be better.”

“Each day, better than the last. That is all a man can strive for, all we are in control of.” Kallinvar let out a soft sigh. “Your brother is a Draleid. His strength is vital to our cause. At this very moment, I go to Gildrick to see what they have uncovered in the remnants of what we found at Ilnaen. If there is something worthwhile, I will send you to your brother. But if not, I need you to know your place. If Efialtír crosses into this world, nothing else will matter. You do not water the plant whilethe whole village burns. We must focus on the task at hand. There is nothing else that matters. Go,” Kallinvar said, placing his hand on Arden’s back. “If you do not eat, you will not have the strength to fight. That makes you a liability to those around you.”

Arden’s eyes widened at that, his body growing tense.

“The others will be back from granting the new Sigils in little more than an hour. We will plan the next step then.”

Arden acquiesced – though Kallinvar could see the reluctance in his features – and marched towards the kitchens. In the seven centuries Kallinvar had served Achyron, Arden was one of the greatest warriors he’d had the privilege of standing beside. The man still held the impetuosity of youth and the guilt-wracked soul of one who had not yet grown numb, but he was a ferocious warrior and his honour was without question. The conflict within him held him back, weighed him down. In the past, Kallinvar would have broken him, would have ground that conflict from his mind. But something had shifted in him of late. Perhaps it was losing Verathin, or perhaps it was finding Ruon. Whatever the cause, he found himself unable and unwilling to drive that love from Arden’s heart.

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