The perseverance of Light as the prime manifestation of Energy found itself counterbalanced by Darkness, the conclusive eventuality of the Void. Both these forces in conjunction set forth a cycle of creation and destruction, giving rise to Life. For balance to maintain its fragile existence, Death came forth to extinguish it.

Chapter 3

“What is my mother doing here?” Ditan muttered to Trynneia through clenched teeth. “I knew this was a bad idea, we shouldn’t have come.”

“Too late to change our minds, Ditan. They’ve seen us,” she replied ruefully. To accentuate this fact, Ditan’s mother called to them across the field. There was no ignoring the fact it sounded more like shrieking across the field at them.

“Ditan Coinlock, report to me this minute!” Her voice carried quite clearly over the distance. Ditan bowed his head, his cheeks turning a slight brown as his green skin flushed with embarrassment.

“Light, we’re hosed,” he whispered. Ditan rushed ahead of Trynneia, falling to his knees in front of his furious mother. Rendrys cast Trynneia an apologetic shrug of her shoulders as her daughter approached at a leisurely pace. Trynneia’s runes went dark.

Ohla Coinlock stood with her hands on the hips of her well-tailored business suit, her tightly braided and coiled brown hair accentuating her professional appearance.

“Jess sent word early this morning that you and Tryn hadn’t shown up today. I came here at my earliest convenience to discuss it with Rendrys. It most certainly is not convenient to just drop what I’m doing and leave. I do not appreciate having to waste my time hunting for my wayward son. Explain yourself!”

Ohla’s voice rose to a shrill level, and Trynneia attempted to feign picking at her ear to plug it while turning the other one away. Rendrys tried to keep a serious look on her face, but her daughter saw the edges of a stifled smile and relaxed. It was obvious to both that Ohla was being more than a little ridiculous. Trynneia felt sorry for her friend.

“Well ma, you see-” Ditan started.

“There is nothing to see! I spend good coins for you to go to that school. You disrespect me and you disrespect your father when you embarrass us like this. Do you ever expect to take over as master banker? What sort of example are you setting for your girlfriend there?” Ohla started going off.

“She’s not m-”

“And another thing! Rendrys was worried sick! Sick!” Rendrys shook her head, but only Trynneia saw. Being taller than the two goblins had its advantages. “We feared the worst! I thought maybe someone had cornered you in the streets, that maybe you’d been mugged. You haven’t been mugged have you? Do you still have your lunch money? If you don't, that's coming out of your allowance…” Ohla continued her tirade.

“Ma, please-”

“You could have even been killed! If you ever do this again, your father and I are going to disown you and kick you out. You’re proving yourself untrustworthy, and a banker must have the utmost trust of his patrons. We could never entrust you with that kind of responsibility. And another thing…”

Rendrys rested her hand on Ohla’s shoulder, startling her. She looked up at the Priestess in shock and anger, before collecting her wits and remembering who she was looking at. “I think you’re being a little hasty, Ohla. Perhaps the children will explain themselves better if you let them actually speak,” she said calmly. Ohla glared at her son. Rendrys mouthed by the Light to Trynneia with a mock exasperated expression. Trynneia tried to keep a straight face. Poor Ditan just stared at the dirt.

“It was my fault,” Trynneia offered, a hint of amusement coloring her voice. Ohla’s glare shifted to look up at her. Trynneia’s runes began to glow softly as she gathered courage.

“Oh this ought to be rich. My hoodlum son was up to no good. You know I heard from Rind Bakerson that several of his sweet rolls went missing this morning? That’s right near our house. He stopped by the bank this morning to make a withdrawal and let me know he’d seen this rascal,” she stared daggers at her son. “I know you have a taste for those sweet rolls and if I hear that you-”

“I overslept, and Ditan came to check on me,” Trynneia continued her explanation, cutting off Ohla for once. “We-”

“So now you’re dragging my son into your own troubles? I’ve had my misgivings where you’re concerned, young miss. You know, I’ve been saying you’re nothing but a bad influence on him. No wonder his grades have been suffering lately. He’s been spending all those afternoons with you, when he knows he should be-”

“I think things are getting a bit heated here, Ohla. I don’t appreciate you casting aspersions on my daughter either. I can see they’re both a bit embarrassed by being late, and the best thing we can do is let them make their way to school so they can attend class. We can all go about our day.” Rendrys cast a meaningful look between Trynneia and Ditan. “Will you come inside the rectory for some tea? I’ll compensate you for your time well.”

“Don’t expect me to be paying for your tea, you offered it as a gift, Rendrys! The last time someone offered me a drink they had the gall to ask me to pay for it! Overcharged me too! What has happened to hospitality around here, anyway? When I was younger-”

Rendrys chuckled and steered the irate mother away into the rectory. “It’s just a drink among friends, Ohla. Don’t read any more into it than that,” she said, putting some distance between them and their children.

Trynneia patted Ditan on the back, almost pushing him over to get him to leave. “Come on, let’s get to class and figure this out later,” she whispered. Her heart broke for him, knowing he’d have to face the full force of his mother and father whenever he got home today. She cast one last glance over her shoulder and saw her mother give a quick wave as she redirected Mrs. Coinlock out of sight of her “misfit” son.

As expected, Miss Jessmyn was upset at their late arrival. Trynneia appreciated they’d at least missed the lecture on Light for the day. Instead of paying attention, her focus was on anything but whatever Miss Jessmyn spoke about. Dried mud stained her tunic and trousers, but there was nothing she could do about it. Ditan looked much the same. They hadn’t been able to evade his mother and both were disappointed their search for the shaman had stalled for the day.

Trynneia kept looking out the window as people walked by, heading to or from the market, or the bank, or the tradeshops. No one appeared to be a shaman, but then she didn’t quite know what one would look like. Since she also recognized most of them and knew them by name, that cut down her speculation. The small community meant everyone knew most everyone else, and strangers stood out in a crowd. For that matter, she only saw three people she didn’t know, a well-dressed couple just travelling through, following an older gentleman sporting a strange skullcap and threadbare, dirty clothes that appeared to have once been heavily embroidered yet had been reduced nearly to rags with repeated use. He led a goat.

Ditan looked defeated. For most of the day he just kept his forehead on his desk, unwilling or unable to meet anyone’s eye. She knew he was dreading the inevitable confrontation with his parents, but also knew he was experiencing a deep shame for being late, and regretted his disheveled appearance. Trynneia felt largely responsible for his misery, and this brought her mood down as well.

The friends passed the rest of the day not feeling present in school, going through the motions as they were. Their morning kept running through Trynneia’s head, and the distractions outside the window couldn’t keep her from thoughts of the elements, and the Light. By learning more of the shaman, they had identified a possible mentor for Ditan, but Trynneia had only her mother. Her famous Lightblessed Priestess mother who continued to tell her that the ways of the Light might soon be revealed to her. For the rest of their time in school, her runes didn’t glow at all.

At one point, Ditan started snoring, and Miss Jessmyn appeared like magic to rap his knuckles hard, startling him awake. His cheeks turned dark brown and he glowered at everyone. Trynneia gave him an apologetic “I’m sorry” look.

“I can’t do this, I’m out,” he muttered before getting up and leaving the class. Miss Jessmyn watched in livid silence as Trynneia followed her friend out a few moments later, but did not stop either departure.

Ditan walked north through the village, past his parent’s small bank before deciding to cut through the tradesman's row. Trynneia followed him in silence, curious about where he was going. She watched him take some dried meat from a stall and keep walking. Just as the stall-keeper seemed to recognize what had just happened, Trynneia drew his attention and paid for the food. Satisfied, he didn’t raise an alarm but observed the path the young goblin had taken. With only a handful of goblins in town, Trynneia felt helpless knowing his parents would hear about that as well.

She caught up to him going down an alley when he stopped short. Blood covered the walls of the nearby buildings, and a huge puddle had collected about the corpses of the skull-capped man, whom Trynneia recognized only because of his distinctive clothing, and his goat. Both their heads had been viciously removed and were missing. Flies buzzed all around, and a crow picked at the goat’s neck.

Ditan retched, vomiting his half-eaten meatstick and the sweet rolls from earlier. Trynneia screamed. Outside of a few people who had died of old age and had been given a funeral, the two teens had rarely ever seen a dead body, so this murder was far outside their experience. Trynneia’s eyes darted from one scene of gore to another, her mind distracted by the thin folds present as the blood coagulated. It wrinkled and cracked, like drying paint. Some of it at the edges had already dried, leaving flecked chips, like how blood looked on a fresh scab. Her vision turned as red as the horror before them.

Distantly she heard running and more yelling while the two of them stood catatonic. In the furor she felt her mother wrap her up in her arms and turn her away from the grisly sight. Rendrys looked down into her daughter’s eyes, whispering words Trynneia couldn’t understand and didn’t want to. The runes that occupied both their bodies pulsed in rhythm, taking on a metallic golden light. Trynneia blinked rapidly, her golden eyes feeling that vision seared into her memory. Mother and daughter cried and hugged each other for comfort.

The magistrate arrived and bid them all to leave, then cordoned off the area. Trynneia lost sight of Ditan as her mother escorted her first to the rectory to lock it up for the remainder of the day, then home. With each reluctant step she replayed the few moments of the old man as she’d seen him in her mind, his stubbled chin, bushy eyebrows, how the hair stuck out from the sides of the cap. He’d nodded kindly while clicking with his mouth at the goat to follow him. This was how she chose to remember him, to blot out the mutilated corpse she’d seen. At least, she tried to.

At home, the trauma of the early afternoon only a short time behind her, became aware of her surroundings, slowly leaving the fog of her mind. Rendrys busied herself in the kitchen preparing tea. Blood soaked the front of her robes. Trynneia tried to understand how her mother had gotten blood all over her ceremonial robes, then realized that her own tunic was red with blood.

“Mom, wha-” she asked, confused.

“Your nose started bleeding when you saw the...accident.” She glanced nervously at her daughter, then turned back to her task. “I healed you with the Light, but that doesn’t take away the blood.”

“But the old man, he didn’t deserve- And the goat! I-” Trynneia broke down sobbing as the tragedy filled her mind once more.

“I know it’s a big ask, but you need to try not to think of what you saw,” Rendrys said, dampening a rag and passing it to her daughter. “Here, wipe your face. You should go change your clothes so I can wash them.”

“Is it really that easy for you to just ignore what happened? A man was killed, and he-” she choked on her sobs.

“No, it’s no easier for me, Tryn. I didn’t know the man, but I will pray for his Light that has been dimmed,” Rendrys sat down with two cups of tea, then draped her arm across her daughter’s shoulder. “I can’t forget what we both saw. Every Light provides illumination. What did his Light show you?”

“Nothing. I didn’t see anything! He was already dead when we- I never want to see something like that again. Mother…” Again and again the memories played in her mind, mixing her living experience of the man with the bloodied alleyway. Almost the two began to merge, as if drawing together one continuous scene. She shut her eyes.

“Shhh, Tryn,” Rendrys’ trembling voice tried to calm her. “You’re so very close.” Then she wept, her daughter wept, and neither of them cried about the same thing.