Chapter 49

Rhyme & Reason

The soulforging room beneath the barracks was no challenge to break into. Femira as a full bloodshedder had almost unrestricted access in the barracks. The dungeon beneath however was off limits to anyone without Garld’s prior approval. This didn’t particularly matter to Femira who could easily step through walls and evade guard detection when needed. She also remembered the way from the last time she’d been there.

Femira had been surprised to discover a complete absence of guards on the lower levels. The long hallway had no illumination and Femira focused her edir into her hands. The amber light of her runewielding ability emitted from them. She moved quickly, scurrying along the hallway towards the soulforging room. She reached the familiar unadorned steel door and, unsurprisingly, found it locked.

She recalled Garld telling her that most of the rooms in the lower levels were shielded with steel. She pushed out with edir senses on the surrounding walls and indeed found that it was lined with steel inside. That was still no barrier to Femira. She placed her hand on the steel door and felt the vibration under her hand. The door puffed into a cloud of silvery dust, she stepped through the cloud and reformed the door behind her.

Using her faint illumination to guide her, she found the control for the gaslamps. Femira twisted the pin on the control and the wick in the gaslamp sparked with a bright flame. The other gaslamps in the room also winked into light, illuminating the room as she remembered it. As before, there were six beds arrayed along the back wall, along the walls were tables with stacks of notebooks and various surgical tools. All six beds were empty.

Femira set to work rifling through the notebooks although she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for. A part of her still struggled to believe what Vestyr and Allyn had told her. She knew it was a vain hope. The truth was irrefutable, soulforging worked by killing other people and absorbing their life essence—their ‘umbra’ as Vestyr described it.

The notebooks were filled with complex diagrams and equations that Femira couldn’t understand. In many cases the notes looked to be written in a completely different language. Only in some cases she would recognise some sentences written in hurriedly scrawled handwriting. Femira was consumed. She frantically skimmed over notes, moving through the notebooks one at a time.

She found one journal with her name in it. Not her real name of course.

Subject: Vreth

Affinity: Eradite

Formula-seventeen has been stable in almost all cases. Earlier iterations of the ritual seemed to incur accelerated rates degradation. Formula seventeen is confirmed to be the most reliable.

There were some sections she couldn’t understand until the very last paragraph.

Subject has demonstrated phenomenal growth over past weeks. Other subjects have since proven unstable under formula. Suspected soulforged lineage affecting the stability. Likely that this case will be unreliable to replicate at scale as formula seventeen has proven a failure in non-soulforged descendants. Potentially still a candidate for higher nobility with confirmed lineage.

Femira wasn’t sure what ‘formula seventeen’ was but she could infer that it was likely some method that Garld had employed in her soulforging. She felt her anger rising at the knowledge that she had been a test subject. They all had been.

She poured over more of the notes. There were dozens marked as ‘failed.’ Then she landed on oneand felt her hands tremble holding it.

Subject: Aden Lestras

Affinity: Salphedine

Formula fifteen had proven to be drastically unpredictable for safe replication. Attempting a new formula derived from a combination of Elyina’s journals and texts recovered from Altarea.

There was a series of complex diagrams. Femira noted that one was in a pattern strikingly familiar to Nyth’s double helix blade. Nyth resonated eagerness inside of her as she pictured the blade. No, Nyth. I don’t need a sword right now. She steadied her breaths and continued reading over Aden’s notes. She already knew what she would discover but it still hit her like a punch to the gut when her eyes landed on the word: Failed.

Aden had chosen Salphedine in the end… Femira recalled how he’d been torn by what to do. He’d known there wouldn’t be much military use for wavecalling but had been drawn to the practice all the same. Her vision blurred with tears. But she didn’t stop. She furiously wiped at her eyes and frantically poured over more of the notebooks.

Among those names marked as failed, Femira recognised some but most were unfamiliar to her. They were dead. All of these “failed” test subjects were dead. She knew it. There was no other explanation. Where else could all these soldiers have gone?

There was one leather bound archive that contained page after page of detailed information of people she’d never heard of. There were names, along with lineages, physical characteristics, and varying degrees of runewielding ability. At the end of each profile was a note: Contributed to subject. Followed by a name of another bloodshedder.

Femira’s mouth went dry when she realised what the archive was. It was the record of sacrifices. Her heart pounded and her fingers fumbled as she flicked through the pages until she landed on a series all with the same final note. Contributed to subject: Vreth. She felt bile rise in her throat. There were five of them, just as she remembered. Three women and two men, all of them soldiers in another division. Each of them with lives and families, aspirations and desires. Each of them dead. Worse than dead… They’d been consumed into her. Their very souls amalgamated into hers. Her whole body locked up. Her hands gripped the archive tightly, convulsing with tremors.

She was going to be sick.

Femira dropped the archive, pages spilling out. She turned away and vomited onto the floor. The acrid bile stung at her throat. Her eyes watered. She was horrified… disgusted. She felt as though she could feel the souls of these people inside of her. Watching her. Hating her. Blaming her.

Her mind flashed back to that day in Keiran. An Honorsword in golden armour killing people in the street. They were killed for hiding her. Hiding her existence. They’d died because of her.

Nyth buzzed. An image depicting the double helix blade slicing at the Honorswords neck. Only that’s not what happened. That Honorsword had slaughtered the entire village. Dinghies fleeing the village. The word karasi was spat at her. The woman who had been her mother wept for everyone who had protected her. Had wept for all the death and destruction that Femira had caused… only that Femira hadn’t done anything. She had done nothing other than existing. That was not her fault.

She couldn’t be blamed for that.

Just as Femira couldn’t be blamed for this.

She’d never asked for these people to die. She hadn’t been the one to tear these people’s souls apart and force them into her. It had been Garld. It had been Garld all from the beginning. Orchestrating all of this. He’d been guiding her to this since the very moment they’d met. He’d lured her in with promises of power. And he’d garnered her trust by delivering it. But it wasn’t truly earned, he’d stolen that trust from her. He’d stolen all of these people lives—their souls and mutilated them. Femira’s jaw clenched, her hands balling into fists.

Her anger flared. Femira wanted him to suffer. He needed to be stopped.

But it wasn’t so simple as killing Garld. Femira needed to expose him. She needed the truth of his actions to be laid bare so that she could prevent everything he’s started from escalating further. She gathered as many of the notes as she could and bundled them into the archive containing the list of sacrifices.

Femira realised that this alone wouldn’t be enough. This only highlighted what Garld had done in soulforging rituals. She needed more to prevent the war with Rubane. She needed evidence that Garld had ordered Daegan Tredain’s death. Garld’s office seemed the most logical choice for something incriminating.

Femira made her way back up to the main barracks. She didn’t even need to sneak about the barracks. She had full right as a bloodshedder to be there. The guards she passed on the way to Garld’s office greeted with nods of respect—some even saluting her as if she were their superior. She kept the fury burning in her stomach. It quelled the disgust she felt at having other people’s souls woven into her own. She needed to focus on the anger.

Garld’s office had no sentry outside it. That didn’t pose well that there was anything incriminating inside. She might have to try his office in the Palace afterwards—or even his home. She didn’t bother with the door, stepping right through the stonewall next to it.

Femira immediately set to digging through his records. There were briefing reports from various bloodshedder missions over the past weeks in his desk. Garld had marked stars next to performances and even made notes on their progressed runewielding stability. The report detailing the battle with the Kragling was amongst them. Exceeding all expectations, the notes read, Formula seventeen again proving considerable enhancements for stonebreakers.

There was nothing about Ferath Vitares that she could find. Nor the mission that Misandrei and the others had been sent on. Garld has told her that he’d received word from Ferath. That he’d left instruction for Misandrei’s team to meet him in a place called Urundock. But she couldn’t find anything that noted any of these details.

She did find one note—written by Garld—that was in a pile to be sent out by carrier pigeon to Rubane—Rubastre specifically:

Promises from beforehand agreement will be held. The Guild will be unspoiled during assaults. Titles and lands will be rewarded for ongoing assistance in coming weeks.

Garld.

There was no indication who the note was for. Garld had also not included any other identifiers for himself as a General in the Reldoni military. Femira was about to start sifting through the books on the shelves for hidden documents when the door swung open.

Light poured in from the corridor outside and Femira met Garld’s eye. She restrained her surprise at seeing him in his office at such a late hour—on Lua Nova of all nights. Garld’s face showed outright shock. He had a revolver in hand.

“I must admit,” Garld began, “when my sentries informed me that someone had broken into my office. I never suspected it would be you.” Sentries? What sentries? Other than the patrolling guards in the barracks, Femira had spotted no one. It seemed Garld had tighter security than she’d anticipated. There was no explanation that she could think of for why she was rifling through his office. Her anger also couldn’t be as easily contained as her surprise.

“You lied to me,” Femira hissed.

“Have I?” He pondered, a serious edge in his tone, “enlighten me.”

“You want me to tell you so that you don’t reveal more than I’ve already discovered,” Femira replied, bitterly.

“You know,” Garld started, and Nyth resonated inside her, letting her know that he was attempting to manipulate her emotions. “I often overlook how clever you can be.” Femira indicated internally to Nyth to allow the emotional manipulation. She wanted to see what Garld was trying to do. She felt the subtle change. Her anger dissipated. Pride swelling at his comment. She felt like a child, eager to please a parent. Okay, Nyth, you can block him again. This was the game Garld wanted to play. He still wanted to keep her on his side. She could leverage that.

“I know how soulforging works,” she let slip intentionally, “how it really works. All these people dead,” she pointed at the leather archive she’d left on his desk. “You hid this from me.” She needed to get him to admit to ordering Daegan’s murder. That’s what she needed proof of.

“Believe me,” Garld said with every inch of earnestly, “it pains me. Each time.” Her anger flared.

“Pains you? You’ve sacrificed hundreds of people! How can you justify all of the innocent people that have died for this!”

“So that we can build a better future!” Garld argued, “can’t you see that? You defeated a fomori of legend. Your actions have saved thousands of helpless people from the creature, this was only possible because of soulforging. We are doing what we must!”

“You're insane,” Femira fired at him, “we were supposed to protect people!”

“This is how we protect people! We build our ranks and we become unstoppable.”

“And Rubane?” She led him.

“The Rubanians have resources we can use to build an army the likes of which this world has never seen. The power of the Sorcerer Kings is returning and we must be at the forefront of it. We must be the shield that protects our people from it.” Fucking hypocrite. She still didn’t believe that he would admit that to her just yet. Femira needed him to believe that she agreed with him. But Femira wasn’t done yet. She had anger to vent, and he would be suspicious if she didn’t at least put up some resistance.

“And Keiran?” FEmira pressed, opting for a different tactic, “what is that you want me to do there? What is it that you’ve been training me for all these months?” That last question was a genuine slip of her frustration. She tried her best to school the anger from her voice but she could feel the sting in her tone.

“You are an exceptional runewielder, Vreth,” Garld said. Femira felt Nyth buzzing, that praise coupled with emotional push seemed to be a favoured tactic of his. “I want you to do the impossible.” He held her gaze with a serious expression. Now he’s appealing to my ego. It galled her how easily she’d fallen for all of this before.

“I want you to assassinate the Emperor of Keiran. As Annali Jahar, you can step closer to the Court of the Sun than any of my other agents. With your skills and abilities, you can do what no assassin has achieved in history and kill the Keiran Emperor himself.”

Femira felt her jaw go slack. The bold audacity of his plan left her speechless. The Court of the Sun was the most heavily guarded government in the world. The Emperor had an entire army protecting his palace, and was never left unattended by his personal guard of Honorswords.

“The Warlords of Keiran will descend into civil war,” Garld continued, “already they nip at each other's heels and none would suspect Reldon having a part to play in this. The Warlords would be at each other's throats for decades over his death. The fall of Keiran would be inevitable. A unified Keiran is the only nation that could stand to rival us, but shattered it is inconsequential.”

“Tens of thousands of people will die,” Femira breathed in disbelief.

“And what happened to the girl who wanted to prove herself no matter the costs? What happened to the girl who was bold enough to steal her way into the Altarean Palace—while it was under attack—for her prize?” Garld posed. There was an almost playful manner to his question. He was testing her. Testing how she actually felt about it all.

On the periphery of her senses, Nyth continued to alert her to Garld’s attempts to manipulate her. She would really need to figure out a method of getting Nyth to tell her what emotions were being forced upon her, one that didn’t involve her actually feeling them. It was too risky with Garld to be caught up in his manipulation.

“I never wanted anyone to get hurt…” she admitted truthfully, “I never wanted anyone to die.” Garld had always been a master at detecting when she wasn’t being entirely truthful with him. She would need genuine honesty here to convince him.

“Would knowing have changed anything?” Garld asked pointedly, “knowing how soulforging worked? Would you really have refused this power?”

“I…” Femira trailed off. This was something she admittedly hadn’t considered. She remembered those months ago during her training. Her hunger for more. Would she have been satisfied knowing that others had this advantage over her? Another part of her mind recoiled at the thought. Horrified that she would even entertain it. But would she truly have cared what stood between her and power? She tried to remember when that changed in her. When had she started feeling this way? A memory came unbidden into her mind of a knife sliding into an eye socket. The grinding of the blade against bone, and her stomach twisted. It had changed when she’d first taken a life with her own hands. The primal revulsion of the action. Her soulforging hadn’t been that long before then. Maybe before that she might have thought differently.

An idea struck her.

“Could…” she started softy, looking at Garld with as much helplessness as she could muster. “Could it have changed me?” She asked, pushing a pleading into her tone. “My soul was reforged with theirs…” she looked towards the archive of names. “I was reshaped. Could it be possible that the souls that I absorbed… could they be impacting how I feel… how I think? I feel like my emotions are not my own…” That last point to drive home the idea that Femira didn’t suspect Garld of using mindstone. His face softened. Garld portrayed nothing but the visage of a concerned father. It sickened her.

“My poor child…” Garld said with pity, “I understand your turmoil, I truly do. It is possible… our understanding of soulforging is still in its infancy.” I’m fucking aware of that you lying sack of shit. You’ve been experimenting on us.

“Trust me when I tell you that we will fix this,” Garld continued. “Now that we’re aware of this, we can take steps to rectify it. Allow me some time to research… however you must be resolute in your trust for me.”

Femira remembered the feeling of trust she’d been overcome with when Garld had performed her soulforging. That sense of connection she had with him. A sense of protection and caring she’d never felt from anyone before in her life. All that was left in her now was the hurt of betrayal. It was all lies.

“I trust you,” Femira let her voice crack. She even let tears well up in her eyes. They were the tears of a shattered heart. “I need you to trust me,” she pleaded, “please stop hiding things from me. I can take it.”

In her mind, she instructed Nyth to let the guard down. She felt the push of emotion on her from Garld’s edir. It was… confidence? He was trying to embolden her. To strengthen her arrogance. She let the emotion pour into her and plastered on a confident face, “I can kill the Emperor,” she said proudly as if being given the honour was the most elevating thought she’d ever had. “I will be the greatest fucking assassin you’ve ever seen,” she smirked.

Garld’s own face broke into a wide grin. She had him, she realised with excitement—but then again, was that confidence part of what he was feeding her? She dismissed the thought. She couldn’t doubt herself now. Although she did instruct Nyth to shield her emotions again, just in case.

Femira decided to press on to what she needed. “What is Misandrei’s team really doing in Rubane?”

“They’re going to succeed where Ferath Vitares failed,” Garld admitted, finally seeming to accept that Femira was fully committed to his cause. “They’re going to kill Daegan Tredain.”

“So you did order his murder?” She gasped.

“War with Rubane is in our favour,” he said defensively. “The Rubanians have yet to discover soulforging but it’s only a matter of time. They have their extensive Ironworks, and their advancements in weaponry are excelling far beyond our own. Rubane is a powerhouse that we cannot allow to grow unchecked. Right now we have a superior military but we must look toward the future. We needed just cause for an invasion.”

“What about Landryn?” Femira asked, “he surely couldn’t have approved that?”

“Of course not,” Garld admitted, “his attachment to his cripple brother is too great… But Landryn trusts me utterly. I am more of a father to him than Abhran ever was.” It pained Femira how much Garld’s betrayal would destroy Landryn. But it had to be done. She couldn’t allow Garld to throw the world into chaos. But it also highlighted a truth that Femira wasn’t ready to face. Landryn was unlikely to believe her over Garld. She needed definitive evidence that Garld had orchestrated this. She needed to prove that Ferath Vitares had been working on Garld’s orders. She needed… She needed Daegan Tredain! In her revelations she’d missed that crucial statement. Ferath Vitares had failed. Daegan Tredain was alive! At least for the time being.

“Daegan Tredain is in Urundock?” Femira asked, “that’s where Misandrei and the others are heading, right?”

“Indeed,” Garld said, “they will soon have this mess sorted out. However, we are digressing from your own mission.”

“Of course, sir,” she replied, “let’s go over the details.”

Garld proceeded to fill Femira with the details of the mission to Keiran. The ship that he had chartered to ferry her to Keiran, the names of agents and contacts that would assist her in reaching the Court of the Sun in the heartland of the Keiran Empire. None of the details mattered to Femira. She already had what she needed for her true mission.

All that was required now was to play along with Garld. Let him believe that she was on board with his insane plan. Femira knew what she needed to do. A part of her told her that she should seek out Landryn. To warn him of Garld’s subterfuge. However she knew that part of her simply didn’t want to leave without seeing him again. The truth was clear; it would be easier to disappear.

Femira knew that she wouldn’t be able to refrain from telling Landryn. But she couldn’t bear to tell him that Daegan was alive. She couldn’t give him that hope if she was wrong… or if she couldn’t make it in time.

She was going to find Daegan Tredain and she was going to bring him home.