The world was not large enough for both of their legends.
Chapter 17: Alaric
"Nyori Sharlin is not here, milord." Captain Sithe's face was expressionless, though his eyes betrayed his wariness. It did not bode well to report failure of a mission of such magnitude, a fact of which he was well aware.
Alaric felt a surge of heat swell in his veins. It took all of his self-discipline to retain his composure, despite the urge to tear apart everything in the chamber. I never should have let them talk me out of going. I was a fool to believe I could entrust something of this magnitude to anyone else.
But of course he was still in Aceldama, while Captain Sithe was appointed the task of recovering Eymunder. The ghostly image of Sithe's head and shoulders hung above Alaric's open hand using the kamset secured to his palm. The apparatus was a rare relic from the Age of Dawn when the Aelon were the students, not the masters. The kamsets were equipped with Aetheric and Elemental fusorbs, allowing the device to operate as an artificial 'eye' that sent a visual representation of whatever was in its line of sight. The kamsets could link so that the images relayed from one to the next.
In the past, there was a way to connect the kamsets to countless wedjas, the specifically designed eye carvings that transmitted images. Every important structure once was ornamented with at least one wedja, but the talent of their design was lost in the aftermath of the Age of Chaos. Many older structures still displayed them, but the ability to connect them to the kamsets was a secret that the Aelon took with them when they left the world of men. Alaric shook his head sadly. So much has been lost, yet we remain.
Flame and smoke danced across the reflective alloy of Sithe's sleek, snug fitting helmet. Like the rest of his armor, the light yet highly protective silvery plate was chased in crimson, forged to be tougher than iron yet light and flexible as leather.
Alaric peered closely at Sithe's nearly translucent image. "I can see some damage behind you, Captain. Did the Sha oppose your soldiers?"
"There was very little fighting, milord. The Sha knew that they were overmatched and most surrendered with little resistance. They did not expect or even seem to know that the Blueshift Rings could be used to traverse distances, and were caught off guard by our emergence. Three of the Ios Shi guarded the Rings, but they chose to flee instead of fight." Captain Sithe sounded puzzled at that.
"They are bound by the restrictions of their pact, Captain. They will not take part in any violent conflict." Alaric was surprised that any of the Ios Shi remained on Erseta. Once they had been the godlike caretakers of the world and the instructors of the Aelon, but their kind had long departed for the Upper Worlds. Alaric couldn't fathom why the three seen in Halladen were still there, but that concern was minor when compared to the purpose of the mission.
"If Nyori Sharlin is not there, then where is she?"
"We questioned several of the Sha, milord. None of them is certain. She was spirited away in secret, and only a select few were privy to where she went. Those few had already fled the city before we arrived, leaving none who could say where they were going. The name that came up the most was a woman named Ayna, a Shama who mentored Nyori. She is one of those who fled."
"You are certain there is no one there who can tell you more?"
"My questioning was rigorous, milord." Sithe's face betrayed nothing of the implications of the statement. More than likely those questioned did not survive the intensity of their inquisition, yet Alaric did not feel any regret. The brutality was a necessary evil to quickly ascertain the truth.
Sithe continued his report. "We also have several Thralls in their midst, of which you're surely aware. They only confirmed what we had already determined. I am certain that we have learned all that we can from the Sha."
Alaric pondered the situation, taking time to consider all the angles. "Very well, Captain. You are to return to Aceldama. There is no need to do any more damage to Halladen or its occupants. Warn the Sha not to harbor those who fled, commission our Thralls to make periodic reports, and then take your leave. This will require a more subtle touch."
Sithe saluted. "There is something more, milord."
"What is it?"
"We found other Thralls in their midst as well. Not commissioned by the Blood, but by those in the Sects."
Alaric nearly cursed. "So whoever holds their leash knows as much as we do. Were you able to ascertain who their holders are?"
"No, milord. Their brains boiled the moment they were detected, killing them instantly."
Alaric shook his head. "A gruesome, but effective tactic. Very well, Captain. I will take that into account and question the Speakers of the Sects at the first opportunity. That will be all."
Sithe bowed respectfully. "As you command, milord."
Sithe's image dissipated when Alaric closed his hand, shutting down the kamset. The fusorbs in the gauntlet ceased to glow, the light dying within their multicolored surfaces. He carefully removed the device and placed it on a nearby pedestal. A protective glass dome immediately encircled it, sealing it from anyone's touch but his.
His private chamber was purposely small enough to feel comfortable, the structure less stately and more comfortable than many of the other chambers of the palace. Blue and gold mosaics adorned the ceiling, while the floor was polished wood centered by a large, intricately woven carpet that was older than Alaric was. Polished furniture of differentiating styles lined the walls: towering bookcases and shelves overflowing with thick tomes bound with leather, heavy tables overlain with artifacts dating back several Ages. Diffused light glimmered through the glass walls from an underwater vivarium where multihued fish and water creatures of all sorts and sizes swam through coral, kelp, and other aquatic plants. Silvery fish scattered as a large shark bullied through, a predator's grin across its elongated snout as it cut across the water. Shadows and light played across Alaric's face as he tried to summon the serenity that usually came with the observation of his liquid surroundings.
But the focus would not come, contaminated as it was by the inky cloud of thoughts that rippled across his mind. He strode to the corner of the room, where a large mirror was affixed to an ornately designed pedestal. The mirror's gilded frame was just as elaborate, engraved with Glyphs that pulsed softly upon Alaric's approach. Next to the mirror was a smaller pedestal, topped by a spherical stone that had been cut in half, displaying a glassy, multicolored surface covering the glimmering crystals inside. The crystals alit when Alaric placed his hand on the stone's smooth face, creating a barely audible hum. Alaric's reflection gazed at him from the mirror's surface, silver-haired yet without a sign of age, his delicate facial features contrasting with his sagacious gaze and imperial bearing.
"Caretaker of the Blood," Alaric said.
His mirrored reflection distorted, warping until it became an unrecognizable blur of colors. When the image slowly coalesced, it was no longer his reflection. He gazed into the severe stare of Jacquelis Morandal. Her high-necked gown was of brocaded black velvet, causing her ivory skin and fiery hair to stand out even more than usual. She gazed at him through a similar mirror, or oculos as it was called, its liquid crystal properties aligned to the systematic veins that ran through the infrastructure of every segment in the palace. Like the kamsets, the oculos were used to transfer voice and image back and forth between the devices, saving the time and effort of trying to personally locate another person in a structure as large as Aceldama. Privacy was another advantage of the oculos. When sensitive information needed to pass on to only a select few, there was no better way of communication.