Chapter Fifteen

‘Warden Ruven guarded the learned. Here those who had attained the highest prowess with their minds were given sanctuary for all time.’ 

The district of Parian was all about innovation and design. The Seer of Parian¾Seer Creft¾had brilliantly developed the entire city landscape.  

That, sadly, was no longer the case. After the manor fire in which Seer Creft disappeared, the district was looted, burned, and almost completely destroyed. The reports and papers painted a story of other districts also being destroyed and burned. Other stories, probably the planted ones, claimed the district of Parian had finally revolted against the oppression of Seer Creft.  

The general public was still convinced that the overseer and Seer Creft had been taken due to their opposing views on coal and oil production. Alis’s viewpoint was much different. She had told Caid, Creaton, and anyone else who would listen this wasn’t a problem of electricity, but rather something else going on in the mines.  

Caid had no way to know which one it was, but either way, he knew the city was no longer the same. It had only taken a few pillars to weaken, and the whole infrastructure came down upon them.  

“So many new homeless,” Caid said aloud.  

Creaton, who had been staring blankly forward, glanced over to him. “Won’t be much longer and people will turn against one another in struggles of life and death.”  

Creaton was probably right. This may not have started as a Parian doing, but without food, shelter, or protection, they would turn on one another, fighting for the last scraps in the street.  

Caid hoped whatever Alis was doing, she was safe. Caid followed Creaton around another bend in the road, coming face to face with destruction from the fire. Caid looked over to Creaton, wondering how all of this weighed on him. Did it make him feel the same way Caid had felt when Geth had been murdered? Caid said nothing, giving Creaton time to process the situation. When a few silent moments had passed, they started again toward the crumbled manor. As Caid got closer, he realized there was nothing left but the foundation.  

Anything that had been in that home was gone. Closer to the manor, everything smelled of smoke and ash. The fire envoys had tried their best to contain the fire and had saved some structures near the manor, but they had been far too late to save anyone or anything inside.  

“Tell me, why was the overseer in agreement to use the Wardens?” Caid asked. Caid had agreed to walk with Creaton to Parian for one reason, and to get answers.  

“I was never in the meetings with Creft and Krossis, but from what I was told it was Krossis’s idea to use them. He argued using the Wardens would put them in the best position to get this message to the largest crowd.” Creaton was distracted by the damage surrounding him.  

“So, you agreed to kill me based on the whims of Creft and Krossis?”  

Creaton turned toward him. “I agreed to kill you, yes. Twice actually if we are keeping count, but neither time was it an order from Creft or the overseer. It was something Rawn said had to be done to keep the plan moving forward. Said you were getting sloppy and you would get someone killed.” Creaton paused and took a deep breath. “If you notice, neither time did I kill you.”  

Caid felt another pang at the lies Rawn had spread about him. “You could not have killed me, Creaton.”  

“Either way, I left you in the streets the night you tried to kill Creft. I also held back in the alley and almost died for it. It was not my choice to do what was being done. I just wanted Creft and the overseer to knock Seer Pryce down a peg. I didn’t want you dead. I just told myself if I wasn’t the one who did it, then it wasn’t my fault.” Creaton turned back away from Caid. “I don’t know much of anything else, Caid. Just that we wanted to stop the pollution and save the city.”  

Caid stared at the back of Creaton’s head. He could kill him for his part in it all without Creaton even realizing it was happening. There was no point. Creaton was a pawn, just like Caid had been.  

“So, you don’t know why the Wardens would take Creft and the overseer?”  

“I have no idea, but I want to find out just as much as you do. Listen, Caid. Even if we don’t share the same motives, we want the same result.” Creaton took another deep breath and walked away from Caid.  

Caid stayed where he was. Caid doubted he looked for anything in the remains of the fire. Most likely, he looked for some evidence as to where the seer disappeared to.  

While Creaton moved closer to the meager remains of the home, Caid stepped away from the scene, deciding he would use the time to figure out exactly where the Wardens had entered and exited without anyone but him laying an eye on them.  

*** 

Creaton cared little for possessions. He had grown up a poor boy outside the city walls. There was life out there in the rolling hills, even if no one in the city’s protection realized it.  

He’d owned only one outfit until the Wardens had taken him from his uncle, or maybe his uncle had given him away. It mattered little how it had happened. All he knew was his life had changed from eating dirt to make his hunger pains subside to eating meat and growing strong.  

Most people would have appreciated such good fortune. At first, maybe he did. Over time, he grew tired of killing for others and of the constant push to always be something he knew he could never be.  

There were pleasures there, of course. He had met Caid and grew quite close to him over their teenage years. He had grown with the nourishment, he had learned to protect himself from others, and he had learned life was never fair.  

Creaton bent down, taking some ashes into his hand, then letting them mix with the wind as they slipped through the cracks between his fingers.  

How much of these ashes were things, just inanimate objects that meant nothing? How much of them were human remains? Those caught in the fire who were not as lucky as Creaton to escape.  

Creaton looked over his shoulder at Caid, who seemed to be looking for a hole in the outer walls away from the manor. Creaton silently thanked him. He was sure he would have let Caid burn without a second thought. He had almost let Maddog, the filthy man, kill Caid in the alleyway. He had even slowed Caid down with a small mock sword fight of his own.  

Caid was a different breed of man, though, honorable in a time of dishonorable people.  

Creaton turned back toward the manor. What had once stood so tall and beautiful, a sign of power, was now gone. It reminded Creaton of the last lesson of the Wardens: nothing is fair, and nothing lasts forever.  

Creaton stood up, wiping his open palm on his pants. Anything that was here was now gone; whatever signs there might be of Creft’s whereabouts were burned in the flames. The fire left nothing; it ate without a care of what it stole.  

He walked over to where his windows would have been. Twenty feet up, he could almost imagine himself looking out into the nights of Parian.  

He could almost feel Creft there beside him as he talked of them ruling the city together someday. Creaton laughed at the silliness of the thought. He knew someday Creft would have had to take a wife and he would have been a burden, not a pleasure. That had not stopped them from dreaming.  

Creaton took a deep breath, turning from the home. He looked over at Caid who was still fishing for something. Creaton walked toward him when a voice yelled out from his side.  

“Stop!”  

Creaton hesitated, then turned slowly to his left. Two envoys from Cros, whose names he didn’t know, were jogging down the pathway toward him. Each of the two men had their short swords drawn and were holding them aloft as they ran.  

Creaton kept from going for his sword. No matter what was going on, he was still technically the Head Envoy of Parian. He reached for his badge, then realized he didn’t have it¾it was probably another pile of ash in the manor rubble.  

“Are you Creaton Tallow?” the portly man asked. 

Creaton gave the man a moment to catch his breath but noticed he didn’t lower his sword.  

“I am Creaton.”  

The man nodded. “I thought as much.”  

“I am also Head Envoy of Parian, making me a superior officer. Can you tell me what you have found here so far?”  

The man had finally caught his breath, but the envoy behind him was in even worse shape and was still pulling in large gasps of air.  

“I can do no such thing.”  

Creaton was going to question his response, but the other man, huffing and puffing, stepped forward.  

“You are under arrest for the murder of Seer Creft and the arson of the seer’s home,” he said in between gasps for air.  

The laughter that escaped Creaton was uncontrollable.  

The two men seemed to take this as mocking, leveling their swords at his chest. Creaton waved them off to show he meant no harm by his reaction.  

“I am not going to fight you,” he said. “I just can’t believe you honestly think I killed the seer or that you have the right to arrest me.”  

The man in front reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out a folded letter.  

“This letter is from the Seer of Cros and has designated you an enemy of the city. It states you were the last known companion of Seer Creft, and thus you are the prime suspect in his death. Therefore, you are under arrest for murder by word of Seer Pryce.”  

The man refolded the letter, shoving it into his pocket.  

The bigger of the two men spoke again. “It would be better if you came quietly.”  

Creaton tried to process what he heard. The Seer of Cros had designated him the prime suspect, but how had the man even known Creft was with Creaton? They were always so careful to cover their tracks.  

Creaton shook his head. “No, you are making a mistake.”  

The man shrugged. “I just do what I am told.”  

That was the truth. Most of the envoys did as instructed to do, and most failed to grasp why they were doing it, a stunningly similar trait to the Wardens. Creaton thought of his options. He could turn and run, but he risked being caught and looking guilty. He could fight and kill the two men, probably with ease, but then he would be guilty. Or he could go with them, probably to be executed for a murder he didn’t commit.  

“What makes you so sure tSeer Creft is dead?”  

They both shrugged. “Just what we have been told. Reckon there isn’t a body, but you would be the only man to know where you left him in the fire.”  

Creaton supposed talking the men into letting him walk away wouldn’t be a viable fourth option. 

“I don’t think I can go with you, boys.”  

Their swords drew up, ready to fight him. Creaton tried to wave them off. “There is no need for violence. You both can go home and say I escaped.”  

The two shook their heads. “Don’t think we can do that.”  

Creaton sighed. “Why is it you are willing to sacrifice your life for a cause you don’t even have any clue about?”  

The two men laughed, nodding toward something behind him. Creaton took a quick glance over his shoulder. Five more envoys came up behind him. He tried to look again toward the walls for Caid, but he was gone. Had Caid finally abandoned him? Creaton could understand if he had, he would have done the same to Caid just days ago.  

“That’s not all. In a few minutes, another ten men will come through those gates. You have no chance of escaping, Creaton. You may as well come peacefully.”  

There was something deep in the recesses of his mind screaming for him to run, but he would only get so far with seventeen men following him. Staying to fight was an option, but his sword would not hold up for seventeen men. Creaton reached down for his sword anyhow. He had no choice, it seemed, but to try.  

Creaton pulled open his sword buckle. The first man moved forward to attack but never got the chance. A white blade ripped through the back of his neck, straight through to the front. His eyes lost all life instantly as he fell to the ground.  

Creaton backed up, splattered with blood across his chest, and shock painted across his face, his own hand frozen on the hilt of his weapon. Two more men fell beside the first before Creaton realized what happened. He blinked twice, watching as Caid killed a fourth man.  

“I-I thought you had left me,” Creaton stammered.  

“Not so easy to get rid of me,” Caid laughed.  

Caid moved toward another man who had come up the path, slicing him open from hip to hip. Creaton remembered how the Wardens almost made sword fighting look like an elegant dance, but had never seen the kind of blade Caid used.  

Creaton finally pulled his sword free from its sheath with a metallic ring. Caid was a good swordsman, one of the best, but Creaton would remind Caid he was no slouch either.  

The other ten men ran up the pathway. Creaton and Caid stood together with their swords out in front of them.  

“Do you remember how to use that thing?”  

Creaton shifted. “I sure hope so,” he answered.  

 Creaton and Caid moved like two leaves in the wind. Caid sliced one man’s ribs before they stopped running toward them. Another man charged in and was cut across his thigh, falling to the ground. Creaton stepped forward beside Caid and took on two men at once, blocking a low sword thrust and twirling to take the second man off guard with a quick slice across his neck. Three men fell leaving only seven envoys standing. Caid seemed to disappear as he fought four men at once. They had him surrounded and hacked at him, but only hit empty air as he moved around them. He cut two men’s throats and the other two stumbled back in confusion, not understanding how a man could move so swiftly. Caid glowed and Creaton was sure he saw something protruding from his hand, but he couldn’t focus on it. He had another man in front of him and had to parry two quick overhead slashes. The third slash came from low and Creaton barely blocked it before reaching his hand out and grabbing the man by the back of his head. Creaton brought up the pommel of his sword and with a crack he broke the man’s jaw, sending teeth falling to the ground. The man would not die, but he would remember he was in a fight. Creaton looked back to Caid who had killed another four men. He was no longer glowing, or maybe he had never been glowing? He was slowing down, however. Caid had knocked down the man he was previously facing, and that left three men. They didn’t look eager to charge in at the head envoy and warden.  

“Run,” Creaton urged.  

The men dropped their swords and did just that. Creaton thanked the Nine Wardens above they listened to him.    

“I wish it would not have come to this,” said Creaton, trying to catch his breath.  

“We wish a lot of things in our short lives, but very few of them come to pass,” Caid answered.  

Caid bent down, running his hands through the pockets of the dead men. Creaton noticed for the first time Caid seemed to have accepted his fate, even if he liked it little.  

Creaton wiped off his borrowed blade on the grass. Alis had found the sword and thrown it into a pile. The Wardens taught its members not to invest in a sword, weapons weren’t for forming attachments, they were for killing.  

Creaton put the sword back into the sheath on his hip.  

“We should probably get out of here.”  

Caid nodded in agreement. “I think that would probably be for the best. Did you find anything useful?”  

“Not a thing. Whatever was here is long gone in the flames.”  

Creaton had spent very little time sifting through the ashes, but he knew if the Wardens had taken Creft, they would have left little proof. Caid seemed to know it as well, looking over his shoulder but not going back to search again.  

“I think there is a warden path right over the farther left panel of the wall. Suppose that is how they entered and exited without being seen. We should probably take it now.”  

Creaton followed Caid at a jog. Neither man had much energy after the fight; they weren’t as young as they had once been.  

“Give me a boost, then I will pull you up,” Caid said.  

Creaton interlocked his fingers together, letting Caid place his boot into his clasped hands. Creaton lifted Caid who grabbed the ledge, climbing to the top with ease. He turned, reaching back down, to help pull Creaton up the wall.  

Both men jumped down the other side, finding themselves in a small dirt alleyway.  

“These things are warden paths?”  

“Can’t tell you, top secret,” Caid laughed. 

*** 

The pathways were made so wardens would never be seen by anyone when they traveled through the city. This meant sometimes they took roundabout turns, went under walls, over buildings, and through overgrown vegetation. This path also went right through the drainage ditch for the city.  

“Bet you wish you hadn’t picked Alis’s best clothing now, huh?” Caid laughed.  

They were both knee deep in the murky water. Caid tried not to think of what it was possibly filled with, but the smell left very little to the imagination.  

“You would think the Wardens would have better escape routes,” Creaton said.  

“We are known for secrecy, stealth, and cunning. We were never known for our architecture or cleanliness.”  

Caid pulled his boot free with a loud sucking sound. He didn’t mention to Creaton they had probably missed a subtle bend in the pathway. The sun was setting and Caid had never taken this path before. He could have missed something; maybe there was a hidden bridge or a narrow point to the ditch. They had been in a hurry, admitting he may have made a mistake helped no one. He may have been given helpful skills, but he was still not one of the actual Nine Wardens above guarding the homes of the dead. 

“This stuff is a killer on the calves,” Creaton yelled.  

Caid agreed silently with him after drawing so much energy from the daliwin, his own legs were burning as if left in the manor fire. He was also breathing a lot heavier than he was proud to admit. One thing about the wardens was they could run forever. They may have not always been the fastest, but they could run long distances, but using the power of the daliwin had its drawbacks. 

After another five minutes in the swampy mud, Caid pulled himself up by a drainpipe back onto the alleyway path. He turned to see that Creaton was right behind him but had stopped to catch his breath.  

“That manor life has made you soft.”  

Creaton looked up, clearly huffing from the exertion.  

“I think it may have been all of the cake.”  

Caid sat down on the dirt, waiting for Creaton to finish his trek across the drainage. When he got there, Caid helped him up, and both fell to the ground together.  

Creaton chuckled. “This is not where I imagined myself a week ago. I was living quite fancy.”  

Caid looked over at him, watching his chest rise and fall.  

“A week ago, I think I was avoiding one of many attempts to kill me,” Caid said with a hint of sarcasm.  

Creaton smirked. “I would apologize, but I doubt you would believe me.” He looked at Caid sideways.  

Caid scooted closer to him. “You never missed this? Or the Wardens?”  

Creaton closed his eyes, remaining silent.  

“I don’t know.”  

Caid moved in a little closer. He could feel the heat of Creaton’s arm against his own. Creaton suddenly grabbed his wrist, pulling him in even closer.  

“Sometimes,” he said.  

Caid shifted over him with his eyes closed, going for a kiss. Just as quickly, Creaton sat up, rolling to his knees.  

“I can’t do that. Not in the way you want me to. You’re not a side toy and you wouldn’t accept that. I love Creft, even if it is a fool’s love.” 

Caid swallowed the lump in his throat. He was a fool. He had been a fool a lot lately. He forced a fake smile and tried to calm his beating heart.  

“Of course,” he said. “We should get going. Get back to the safety of the tunnels.”  

Creaton stood to follow Caid.