The Parallels
THREE

I’m sharpening my eclipse blades in the artillery hut, lost in the sound of the whetstone sliding against obsidian. Oreya’s words echo in my head - a simple decoy plan. Lay tracks in the opposite direction of the migration and then reunite on Fewth Road. It was just like any other training sequence we had run countless times. I’d dreamed of seeing Lanel beyond the rolling grassland of Qyis’ borders but as Oreya conveyed the details of our mission, I couldn’t help but feel as though the ground was crumbling beneath me.

I sheath my blades, remove the pendant from around my neck and lay it on the table before me. I hadn’t had time to think about the party. I stare down at the necklace and rub my eyes, certain I’m imagining things. The pendant no longer appears worn out. Instead, it glistens with flecks of gold and silver. I doubt Laurel’s father knew it was laced with magic, or else he wouldn’t have been too keen on giving it away. I tuck it into my belt just as shuffling footsteps sound from behind me and a few soldiers come into the hut.

My clothes are soaked with rain by the time I return home. Levain and Silas hurry around the kitchen, gathering supplies and stacking them on the table. It’s only when I clear my throat that either of them look up.

“I thought you’d gone already!” Levain says, her chocolate eyes softening as she cups my face in her hands.

“Tell us.” Silas rushes to me.

“I’ll be with a small troop of five heading south as a decoy.” Their faces fall. Silas guides us to the kitchen table and we sit.

“Where will you travel?” he asks.

I tell them a general overview of the plan. By the time I finish talking, Levain’s biting her lip and nervously tugging on her hands. Silas, on the other hand, looks completely calm. Before being captured during the Great Purge, Silas was a tinker in Fairvale. When he met Levain, he had been a prisoner for over a year.

While they never shared what happened to him during that time, there was one rule growing up: keep the lanterns lit. I absentmindedly forgot this rule when we first arrived at this village and when I awoke to screaming that wasn’t my own, I realized my mistake. Silas was cowering in the kitchen corner shouting incoherently about the Parallels and Gethin Stone. I’d never seen Levain so irate as she was that night.

“I’ll meet you again on Fewth Path.” I hope my confidence eases their worry. They’ll already have enough on their minds given the last-minute migration.

Levain rises and moves to a simmering pot hanging over the fire. “I’d best pack you enough food for at least a week’s journey.” She spoons the contents of the pot into a bowl and sets it in front of me. “Just in case you run into weather of course.” She kisses me on the cheek before taking stock of the pantry that’s just off the kitchen.

We each play our part in the face of bad news. Levain nurtures, Silas thinks, and I eat. Silas remains seated, staring at the smoldering fire in the hearth. Hunger vies for my attention, so I take a spoonful of stew, savoring every bit, knowing that a fire and warm meal will be luxuries until I’m safe at Northpoint. After a few moments of silence, Silas extends his palm outward. A tiny oval box no bigger than my thumbnail rests in his hand.

“If you encounter the Herrings,” he motions for me to take it, “don’t let them take you alive.” Something rattles inside the box and I’m about to open it, but he shakes his head ever so slightly. This is to be our secret. He releases my hand and I discreetly tuck the object into my belt just as Levain drops two arms’ worth of baking supplies onto the table.

“We’re only supposed to take what we can carry.” I count at least two small bags of flour piled before me.

“Good thing I’m strong then.” She winks and nudges me gently.

“Darling,” she addresses Silas, “have you finished packing?” My hunger disappears as quickly as it came. It’s almost time to leave.

“Not quite my love.” He rises from the table and squeezes her shoulder before leaving.

She takes a seat. “I know you’ve trained to protect us,” she squeezes my hands tightly, “but if anything happens, mind yourself first.”

“Aunt Levain,” I begin but she interrupts.

“Choose your moments of bravery, child, for only a fool thinks she can win every battle.” She releases my hands and smooths the front of her dress. “Mind the roads, travel to their sides when you can.” She shoves her supplies into a pack. “Only light can keep dark at bay, my girl,” she whispers. “Let yours shine, always.” She releases me just as Silas returns to the kitchen.

“Anything you’d like to take?” he asks me.

I hadn’t considered we’d never come back. “Doesn’t hurt to check.” I rise from the table and grant them a moment alone.

My room sits at the back of the cottage adjacent to a small creek that winds its way through Qyis Forest. I turn the door handle and am greeted by the familiar sight of Rhian, only he’s standing in the middle of the room with a pack slung across his broad back.

He turns. “We’ll never come back here.” His amber eyes lack their usual glow. “Everything we know is going to change.”

It’s as if the boy who’d only been here just hours ago has already aged into a journeyman. I catch my reflection in the mirror just over his shoulder. Even my own features have taken on a look of rigidity and determination. Responsibility sinks heavily into the air around us, creeping into every permeable inch of space. Suddenly, the room feels too small for the burden we bear.

“But not us,” I hear myself say from far away. It’s a fleeting attempt to convince myself of what my heart already knows to be true. Of course, everything would change, just as it always did, just as it always would.

He turns and faces me. “But maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

I look up at him and for the first time in our lives, I can’t read his expression.

“What is it?” I ask.

And then he kisses me.

I jerk my face away and inadvertently collide with his forehead. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know!” He rubs his head, but it doesn’t conceal the flush that’s spread over his face. “Taking a risk before I don’t get the chance, I guess.”

“Rhian, if anything we’ll be apart for a few days and then before we know it, we’ll be back together at Northpoint!”

Now there’s an expression I recognize - disappointment. Clearly, my reaction is not what he was hoping for.

“I’m sorry,” I start but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand and retreats to the window.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t know.” He breathes out heavily, pushing a few strands of ebony hair from his face. He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll see you shortly,” he says, throwing his legs over the frame as if it were any other night. And just like that, he’s gone.

I’ve only ever loved Rhian as a friend, a brother even. The thought of kissing him makes my stomach jump and not in the romantic way I’d hoped my first kiss would feel like.

“See you,” I whisper to an empty room.

I shake my head, hoping to clear out the noise of my thoughts, then I remember Silas. I reach into my belt, remove the small case and open the lid. Inside is a tiny pink pill, the likes of which I’ve seen before. It’s Everberry and it’s fatal when ingested. If Silas handed me my own death, then the Herrings are worse than I’d imagined.

I take my pack from the table and heave it over my shoulder. Given its weight, I’m guessing there are at least four loaves of bread and a block of cheese inside. I run my fingertips along the kitchen table and brush the flour from them as I walk to the door. Levain and Silas sit outside on two stumps they fashioned into makeshift chairs months ago. Eventually, the forest will claim this cottage as its own, just as it did before we made it home.

“Three days,” I say aloud as I close the door behind me. Silas and Levain hoist their packs onto their backs. “Hopefully Northpoint doesn’t already have a baker,” I say to Levain, “because you’ll bake them out of business.”

I kiss her on the cheek and she wraps her arm around my waist. They bring me between them and the three of us stare at the cottage. Where I feel eagerness, they feel fear, for they both know what lies beyond Qyis and beyond the security of traveling invisibly under a veil. And while I’ll miss this place, I’m about to finally see somewhere new, even if it’s only for a few days.

“How about I meet you at the village center?” I suggest.

Levain turns and cups her hands around my cheeks. “There’s plenty of food in your pack,” she says quietly. “When you’re back, I’ll make us a proper feast.” She embraces me and whispers, “happy birthday my girl.” Her cheeks are wet with tears when she pulls away.

Silas takes our hands and holds them to his heart. “My two brightest lights in the dark. May the Mire bid us a safe journey.”

I send them my light and silently pray for the Mire to watch over them. “I’ll be seeing you soon.” I take one last look at my family and step onto the path.

Although the center is packed with people, it’s eerily quiet. It’s the type of quiet I’ve seen when I hunt when an animal knows it’s being tracked. Stay still, stay invisible, stay alive. I spot Laurel in the crowd but am quickly intercepted by Erique. He’s clad in his usual dark brown training garb, though a few more weapons are strapped across his waist.

“We’ll lead the troop through the woods adjacent to the Voiceless Road,” he says. “Too many folk travel the road itself in order to avoid Beartooth Pass.” He finally looks at me. “We’ve never been in combat before…” His voice trails off as his gaze flickers to the gathering crowd around us.

That’s when I notice the nervousness in his eyes and the fact that his knuckles are bone white, wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword. For all this time I’ve spent training, I’d never truly believed that I’d be facing an enemy I’d only heard stories about. And from the looks of it, neither had Erique.

I clasp his shoulder. “We’ll be far enough ahead of them and as your second, I’ll make sure they never encounter our soldiers.” His shoulder slumps beneath my hand.

“They trust you,” he says quietly, “more than they do me anyway.”

It was true. Erique always kept himself at an arm’s distance from us. I’d always assumed it was because he was arrogant but the man in front of me seems anything but.

“They trust your skill and your mastery.” I look to the hilts peeking out over his shoulders. I offer up my palm and hold the other toward the ground. He rests his hand on my palm and extends his other to the sky. “Mire keep us balanced and connect all that once was,” I channel my light toward the soil below.

“To all that will be,” he finishes. We bring our extended palms together, merging past, present, and future.

Something breaks nearby and catches his attention. His eyes scan the crowd once again and then it dawns on me.

“She’ll be packing up the last of her medicine.” I drop my hands to my belt.

He smiles slowly. “Meet by the west wall in five minutes,” he says before heading toward the apothecary.

I weave my way through the crowd to Laurel, who’s been watching us the whole time.

“What was that about?” She touches her daggers, then her sword, and then taps each wrist, counting her blades under her breath.

“Nothing,” I say. “Are you ready for this?” I tighten the straps of her chest holster.

“I doubt we’ll do much more than walk among the villagers. It’s you who gets the exciting mission!” She counts again.

“If Oreya’s right, then the Herrings are miles away from here. We’re really just a precautionary measure.” I’m as nonchalant as possible because I know that if given the chance, Laurel would switch places with me in an instant.

“That’s my Jules.” She pulls me into a hug. “Always the modest one.”

We hold onto each other, undoubtedly unsure of the next time we’d laugh so easily. Everything will change. Rhian’s words echo in my head. I’m about to wish her good fortune when Oreya’s voice sounds from behind us.

“I daresay modesty is a word she’s never heard before,” she says.

I turn around and my mouth drops open. Oyera is clad head to toe in black graphene armor. Even in the shallow light of the full moon, she looks like a shadow. Her silver hair is woven with black fabric bound tightly to her head in an ornate braid. A black mask hangs loosely around her neck, but I imagine that when it’s secure she’s truly invisible in the dark. I’m in such awe that it’s the second time today that I forget myself and fail to salute her.

Oreya looks down and smiles. “Let’s ensure that the village is empty, Laurel. Others are checking as well. Why don’t you take south?” Her tone is soft but firm.

“I’ll be seeing you soon,” Laurel says, forcing the look of bravery she’s crafted so well over the last year.

I’m not ready to say goodbye, but I don’t have a choice as Laurel slips into the crowd and disappears. I press my hand firmly over the pendant necklace hidden beneath my tunic.

“Only a few days.” I murmur to myself.

Before I turn back to Oreya, I scan the crowd. Rhian is nowhere to be found. Oreya clears her throat and my attention snaps back to her, though my arms still hang loosely at my sides.

“Apologies Commander,” I stammer, squaring my shoulders. “I was just surprised to see you out of your regular uniform.” Had we not been leaving, I would have been ordered a week’s worth of latrine duty for that casual remark.

“Careful, there are still latrines to be dug in Northpoint. I’m sure of it.” Oreya says, as if reading my mind.

Northpoint - the last stronghold of mages and inerts in Lanel. Impregnable save for only a few moons out of the year when snowstorms don’t drown the mountainside paths. Even if the Herrings or Blackthorne discovered its location, they’d have to pass through the multiple veils said to shield it. As I meet the gaze of the villagers around me, most have hope in their eyes, for we all believed in the sanctuary Northpoint could provide.

I drop my gaze and gasp as it lands on two cassiterite blades fastened to Oreya’s belt. Cassiterite weapons were imbued with magic and only given by Primaries to their Grand Protectors. I stare back up at Oreya in awe.

“I served the Faren Primary just as my mother did and my grandmother and all the women of my bloodline. After the Unification Decree was signed, my charge was to protect the Faren emissaries during their travels.” She touches the blades. “These were gifted to me on the fiftieth anniversary of my service.”

I’d imagined all sort of lives for Oreya but never had I thought she was a Grand Protector. Gifted by the Primaries with longevity to match the mages they served, Grand Protectors bore a lineage that extended as far back as the Primaries’ own ancestry. Protectors were known to be the most vicious, most loyal warriors ever to exist whose foremost purpose was to protect the Primaries. I look up at Oreya and wonder just how old she truly is.

“They are stunning,” I say, gesturing to her daggers.

“Then you’ll be pleased with this.” She reveals a small dagger from her wrist and holds it out to me.

“Commander?” I ask hesitantly.

“In the Faren Primary, it’s tradition to recognize a newly appointed lieutenant,” she says. A shadow clouds her eyes before she blinks, and I wonder if it was ever there at all.

I palm the cassiterite blade. The dagger is virtually weightless and perfectly balanced. The hilt is solid black save for a blue gemstone encircled by a gold braid. The torchlight catches the blade revealing molten layers of opaque crystals.

“Cassiterite is as linked to its wielder as it is to the land, drawing strength and guidance from both,” Oreya says. The dagger warms. “If your enemy is near, it will sense that. If you need its protection, it will sense that. If you need strength, turn to all that came before and there you’ll replace it. You’re bound to it and it to you.” Oreya’s eyes soften. “May it serve you as it did those before.” She bows her head slightly.

“Ah!” I cry out. Suddenly the blade flashes red hot. I try to drop it but Oreya’s hand closes around my own.

“Just wait,” she says reassuringly. The dagger burns then quickly cools. Oreya releases my hand just as it changes shape. It morphs into a liquid metal then snakes up my hand, settling itself into a simple black band around my wrist.

“Each blade forms a special bond with its wielder. It’s now a part of you.” Oreya looks down at my wrist where the band now rests. “Seems like it’s found its place.” A faint vibration flows from the band and spreads through my fingers.

“Commander, I think it’s. . .” I struggle to replace the words.

“I’ve come to think of it as talking.” She rests her hands on the hilts of her own blades.

“Do yours do this too?” The bracelet seems to be introducing itself, sending vibrations through my body.

“Mine are a little more discrete.” As she says this, her blades morph into two small studs that rest on her belt. They blend in perfectly, looking like a design on the belt.

I laugh. “Thank you for this, Oreya. I will treasure it always.” The bracelet now feels light and cool as I cross my arm over my chest.

“There’s one more thing.” Her voice drops to a low whisper as she takes a step closer to me. She holds out a small vial full of thick dark liquid. “This is how you’ll lead the Herrings away from our people.”

“What is this?” I ask taking the vial.

She steps forward. “The blood of a mage. The Herrings are drawn to it.”

“Who?” I ask. Magic is rare enough already that to part with a single drop seems incomprehensible.

“Who do you think?” She raises her eyebrows. Rhian, of course. “He’d do anything for you.” In a rare expression of affection, she squeezes my hand. “There’s no need to be afraid. You’re ready and have been for a long time.”

I meet her gaze and fight to keep my knees from giving way. Co-leading a troop under the protection of our veil was one thing, but facing an enemy that renders fear in my kin is something else altogether. Despite all the extra training I’d done over the past five years, none of it seems like enough to face the Herrings and I’m suddenly afraid, not for myself, but for my village. Elder Merrin approaches and ushers Oreya to the center of the crowd. When she drops my hand, she meets my gaze.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Lieutenant.” She walks away.

I look for Rhian one last time before slipping away and disappearing beneath the cover of night.