Fear's Union

Chapter Twenty-Two

—Aran—

He sat solemnly in Master Hephesta's office. He mouthed the words of his ditty, but even that didn't work. His stomach knotted.

"Are you okay, Aran?"

It was nice of the caste-master to ask, but no he wasn't. Of course he wasn't. This was it, this was the end, and he wanted to scream at the injustice. He would try. He would really try.

"Mmm." By the Solemn Sister, why was he so pathetic? Caste-Master Blasetté raised an eyebrow.

"I will speak on behalf of the departed Archmaster, who apologises for not being here in person. Are you comfortable with this?"

He nodded, but of course he did! He had no backbone.

"Then let us be brief. You were sent to Saphos with a sole purpose. Events unravelled, and we apologise for that, but the facts cannot be denied. You failed to reveal yourself once more. You're not a mandahoi, are you Aran?"

No, not a mandahoi. A murderer. But was he really a murderer? The Governor was a criminal and so the man's death would surely be praised. Not that it made a difference to his predicament.

"No sir." Oh how he wished he could speak his mind.

The truth was that he agreed on the whole – he wasn't a mandahoi – but Saphos was different. In Saphos he had succumbed to that other part of himself. It was just a shame that he'd been woven into silence. A real shame.

Who was that cloaked stranger? And how did the man know his name? The hooded-presence plagued his nightmares.

"You have nothing to add? No defence of your inaction?"

Of course he did. He had killed that filthy Governor and speared him on his own door! That was the sort of success the Mandahoi coveted, but it was not for him. Instead, Anejo would get the plaudits. That was nice in a way.

"No sir." He squirmed.

"You have nothing to say at all?"

All he could do was shrug. How feeble was that? He stood, even though he hadn't been dismissed.

"Wait, I have something to give you."

Caste-Master Blasetté reached down and pulled a small velvet bag that clinked with coins. He also took up a piece of parchment, which was tied ceremonially into a roll with a grey ribbon. He handed over the two items with a shallow smile.

"We are sorry to be parting ways, Aran, but you must understand that we cannot carry, ah, excess. Ahan will only grow more endangered, and we will be called upon with more and more frequency. Do you understand this?"

He didn't even look down at the gifts. His attention was solely on the duelling master. He nodded, and this time it was faithful.

"However, we part with these tokens of our appreciation. The coin is to help you settle into your new life, whatever you may choose. The scroll declares the service you have done and is as good as currency. We hope this goes some way to easing any pain you may currently feel." Caste-Master Blasette smiled, like it was an act of kindness.

He smirked back, and the master's smile faded. He supposed it was a nice gesture, but they didn't know the futility of these gifts in his predicament. His old life was not a life that could be embellished. This decision they'd come to was as good as death, so what was he supposed to say? It was obvious really.

"Thank you."

He hated himself for not screaming out in anger. Was the fact that he'd followed Anejo all that way not worth anything? Was her life worth more than his own? His deeper self stirred, injecting heat into him, but now was not the time. He breathed in cool air. It was time to face the ghosts of his past.