Midnight Moon

Chapter 31 - Whispers of the Future

Faltis strode down shadowed corridors, flames in torch brackets quaking as he passed. The flagstones were worn with the footsteps of all those who had come before him, and the steps he had taken in all his years with the Order of Kysuk. He wondered idly how many years more he would roam these corridors - many mages were relieved that they were unable to foresee their deaths, but he had to admit he was curious.

He halted before a grand double door, carved from dark wood and inlaid with runes and sigils. Once upon a time, they may have offered some defence, but these days they were nothing but scribbles and scratches. Seryt, High Priestess though she was, certainly couldn't coax so much as a spark from them.

The marks had likely been created by Ren; King of Runes as much as he had been King of Levea. If the legends were true, the immensity of his power would have made them glow almost too bright to look at. The stories said that he even carved symbols into his body - perhaps as deep as his bones - to bind his soul after death, preventing its passage to the afterlife. But that art had long since died and, though Ren ensured his soul could be returned with sufficient effort, knowledge could not be resurrected so easily.

Faltis rapped his knuckles against the door, wincing briefly as the noise sent pain shooting through his temples. He cursed the treacherous boy under his breath for the blow to his head - glimpses of many future moments had been gifted to him, but that strike was not one of them.

"Enter," an imperious voice called.

Settling his calm front, Faltis entered the High Priestess' chambers. Silver light from the waxing moon streamed in through the windows, battling with golden firelight from torches lining the walls.

Seryt was sitting at a table with maps spread over its surface, though they were for nothing but show. She had barely a passing knowledge of the geography of the Lands beyond the Order's keep and an even slighter understanding of the breadth of the Order's operations. Many allies were known only to Faltis; just the way he liked it.

"High Priestess." Faltis gave a bow, deep enough to be polite but far from the grovelling stoop displayed by many of the zealots in the Order's ranks.

"Ah, Faltis. I knew you were coming." She sat back in her seat, the torchlight dancing on the grey streaks in her dark hair and highlighting the lines in her coppery skin.

He gave a strained smile: Seryt had never possessed a particular gift for foretelling. Perhaps she could see enough moments to create a thinly believable façade, but she did not receive the clarity he did.

"So?" Seryt rested her elbows on the chair's arms, steepling her fingers and narrowing her eyes. "You have returned without the girl, having wasted some of the blood of hers we held, with nothing more than injuries and your tails between your legs."

Faltis kept his tone calm and his gaze level. "The fight proved to be more difficult than we anticipated. We knew the Princess would arrive at the temple but not when, and the preparations for the solstice left little time to ready ourselves." Because you wouldn't allow any distractions from your grand mission. "Leaving for the temple only when the alarms were triggered meant we fought on the back foot."

"And the back foot was enough to overrule years of training?" Seryt raised an eyebrow haughtily and sighed, drawing out the pause. "Well, what are your plans now?"

"We carry on as we were," Faltis said smoothly. "They would not have strayed into the temple accidentally, which means they are likely searching for a way to stop the recalling of Ren, or at least a way to protect the Princess."

"Ren's great plan cannot be stopped;" she interjected sharply, "The Foretelling has guided our way, and we shall not fail as those before us have."

"Quite." Faltis pursed his lips, unseen by Seryt, whose eyes began to gleam with fervour. Fanaticism may have been enough for her, but he preferred knowledge with stronger foundations. "As far as I can see, they will take only two courses of action. First: they run back to the palace, or at least the army, for safety, where our people will redeliver them to us. Or second: they attempt to foil us at the solstice, in which case the Princess will be exactly where we want her. Until we get word that one of our associates has run into them, or someone has a vision of their future location, it would be a waste of our time to search for the girl on foot."

His words, though hopefully persuasive, were irrelevant other than as a distraction to keep Seryt believing he was her loyal servant. He knew where this all led, had seen many of the steps between now and the solstice, and beyond. He was well-practised in utilising his visions of the future, and had learnt to put himself in an advantageous position when his predictions came to pass. Any glimpsed moment was set in stone, but everything around it was still shifting and forming, and he knew how to ride the waves of time.

Seryt rubbed her jaw in thought. "And the boy, Caro? Will he be a problem?"

"Calu, High Priestess. I doubt he has enough knowledge of our plans to derail them significantly. He has potential but little training, so he cannot wield his full power." And seems unwilling to wield what power he has. Faltis held back a wince as another spike of pain pierced his temple.

Seryt's eyes fixed on him again. "And what of the King? He is under observation, correct?"

He nodded. "Our agents are relaying his movements to us. Sending Miss Sheros to court with news about the Outlander worked perfectly; the King has mobilised the entire army to be on the lookout, and our people are monitoring reported sightings of the Princess. Would you like me to send an informant to reveal the involvement of Lord Sae and Calu?"

"No," she answered slowly, "An Outlander is easier to spot, but Lord Sae is less likely to be recognised. We want to find the Princess, not overrun our agents with false reports and red herrings. Calu should certainly not be mentioned: we want no associations made between the Princess' disappearance and the Order."

Faltis smiled politely. It didn't matter how well she thought through her plans; all he needed was someone malleable to take the fall for what was in the works. He would be perfectly poised to do whatever he wanted when the time came; if she made some salient points in the meantime, that changed nothing. "As you wish, High Priestess." He took a step backwards.

"You may go," Seryt said with a long-suffering sigh and a faux-regal wave of her hand. "Let us hope that your fumble will not cost us the opportunity to return the All-Powerful to this world."

Faltis inclined his head, ignoring the barb and refusing to grit his teeth. He had seen where this was headed and, though he would put on a show and take any opportunities that came his way, he had no desire to put himself in unnecessary danger.

He paused at the door. "Pyres for Jinya, Garlos, and Tissal will be lit at sunrise, should you wish to pay your respects."

"Hmm? Oh, yes." Seryt barely spared him a glance. "I may make an appearance, if I am not occupied."

"Of course." He gave a perfunctory bow and slipped into the corridor, a scoff hanging on his lips. He knew she wouldn't be there; even a funeral of three Order members was not enough reason for the High Priestess to descend from her lofty heights. Seryt had been the one to send them to their deaths, after years of discouraging teaching of defensive and healing magics.

He may have led the attack, but he had mourned to see the lifeless bodies and would mourn again with those that remained. Yet he knew as well as anyone that the future was writing itself with every step taken, every word spoken. Though no one had predicted the three deaths at the temple, that did not mean they were not bound to happen. The damages to others were regrettable, but unavoidable; some had to fall so that he could rise.

Just as a river would find its way to the sea no matter which way it turned, they were all carried by fate. Moments could be set in stone when seen in a vision, but there were other ways to guarantee the future - ordering or manipulating someone into action had an outcome that was almost as assured.

Everything would fall in the end, but he would make the most of the time he had. It was said that Ren had a great gift for prophecy, but that he had lost his mind in staring too long at the future. Faltis had no wish to make that mistake; he would not be remembered for little lasting progress beyond some ominous rambling. The Foretelling may be part of a great plan, but it was not the end of all things.

He hadn't bothered to tell Seryt that the girl had discovered the prophecy. What was the point? The High Priestess would be dead before this was all over.

He knew that as surely as he knew there was no need to chase the Princess. He had seen it and so it would happen: she would walk into their ritual of her own accord, and would offer her blood to them. It was only a matter of time.