Incarnation | Wandering Stars Volume One

Chapter 23

DALEN A-SORGUD

Far southeast of Senvidar, at the eastern end of a narrow channel of water, Batarel stood in a small clearing amidst a dense stand of trees. The soldier in front of him was also a Shaper, but had been operating as an Anduar for many years, not unlike the direction Batarel had been heading before Semjaza found him. The soldier was looking down at the bundles of weaponry lying on the ground, taking inventory in order to relay the Myndarym's state of readiness to the Amatru.

"Fifty vaepkir. Fifty vandrekt. Thirty vanspyd. Fifty light keskyd. Thirty heavy keskyd. And forty skoldur," the angel mumbled to himself. "This is not enough. How many more are being made?"

"Two, maybe three times what you see." Batarel assured him. "They are being brought as we speak."

The soldier looked up to the midday sky in search of the moon, which was nowhere to be seen. "How far away? We only have one day left."

Batarel noticed the way the soldier's eyes darted back and forth along the grass, looking for other information that would be useful—most likely, to identify the location of the Myndar city. The arrangement with the Amatru was fragile, and Batarel didn't think the answer to the question was relevant to their mission. At least, not their primary mission.

"We'll worry about that," he replied. "You just make sure you bring enough soldiers to get the job done."

The Shaper suddenly turned his head toward Batarel. Behind his eyes, Batarel could almost see his disgust at having to work with unholy traitors. But the soldier held his tongue.

"And next time you cross over, do it here. Not in the open again. Semjaza's eyes are everywhere."

Again, the Shaper held his tongue. But his displeasure at taking instruction from someone outside the Amatru was obvious. Finally, the soldier nodded. Then the objects around him appeared to distort. Trees and vines bent inward. The grass bowed toward him. But it was only an illusion. It was the light from these objects that was warping, fragmenting into bands of color as the Shaper shifted his existence out of the Temporal Realm.

And then he was gone.

In the following silence, Batarel smiled. The plans were moving along quickly. Soon, Semjaza's fortress would be infiltrated, and the wicked Pri-Rada would be overthrown.

A faint scraping noise brought him out of his thoughts and sent his heart racing, for he knew the sound to be abnormal. His sensitivity to noise was a residual benefit of spending time in an animal form. Shifting his consciousness toward the Eternal, he looked outward with different eyes, seeing beyond the orderly structure of this realm. To the west, he counted fourteen spirits spread out in a loose, crescent-shaped formation. The fiery nuclei—visual representations of the spirit within each temporal being—hovered just above the ground, moving cautiously toward him. As they passed over the earth, they came closer to each other, converging upon Batarel's location. Judging by their size and movement, they were Semjaza's Anduarym.

Batarel stepped quietly to the north and began making his way out of the clearing, hoping to lead the attackers away from the stash of weapons and armor. Instead of shaping himself, he remained in his angelic form. It was slower than his animal form, but he wasn't planning on trying to escape. Instead, he felt a mixture of fear and hatred building in his heart, and he allowed it to grow and consume his thoughts. As he moved through the thick vegetation, a discordant melody wove itself into his mind. It produced a sense of pride and pleasure that intertwined itself with the other emotions, taking control of them. From his lips, which were now curled into a grin of delight, a Song of Unshaping began to emanate.