Whispers of Nowhere

Chapter Three: Part One

Forneus stared after Phenex as the door closed behind him, brow furrowing in confusion. Ask me what?

He cast an inquisitive glance at the girl next to him, her gaze still fixed on the door, an uncertain frown twisting her lips.

"Miss?" Forneus inquired. The girl gave a start before looking at him, clearly having been lost in thought.

"It's Gwen," she said, somewhat distractedly. "Gwenyth Lamelle—but just call me Gwen. Everyone else does."

That's right. How could I have forgotten? "A side effect, perhaps." He didn't realize he'd said it out loud until he caught sight of Gwen's expression, her eyes alight with curiosity. Forneus didn't understand why, but by some good fortune, she didn't ask him what he'd meant. Instead, she turned to a different topic entirely.

"You told me that you were the guardian of the artifacts," she said, shifting from one foot to the other. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Forneus contemplated her for a moment, not quite certain where to begin. There were so many factors—too many, in fact—that he needed to take into account before answering. With everything Gwen had already been through, he wanted to make things as simple for her as he possibly could. Absently fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves, he decided that the beginning was as good a place to start as any.

"I was appointed guardian by the High Council of Deities—the very gods that Phenex is reporting to now, as we speak—to watch over the artifacts, and prevent them from ever falling into the wrong hands." Seeing that he had her full attention, he went on. "It was a task assigned to me seventy-five years ago, and one that I would have been relieved of in only a few short months, if not for two things; what happened eight years ago, and then what occurred tonight. Now that the artifacts have disbanded, a successor guardian cannot be appointed until they are reclaimed."

Gwen frowned. "What happened eight years ago?" she asked.

For lack of anything better to do with them, Forneus clasped his hands at the small of his back, and lowered his gaze. "To be quite honest, I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "One minute, I was watching over the artifacts via the Ethereal Network—that is to say, the Spectrum's surveillance centre—and the next, someone, or something, attacked me. I didn't realize what had happened until it was too late. When I awoke..."

"...Eight years had passed?" Gwen guessed, eyes wide. In spite of everything that had happened since he'd appeared in her home—the result of the enchantment placed upon him when he'd become guardian—she appeared to be taking it all in stride, working it out much quicker than he would have expected. Not just of her, but of anyone in her place.

Remarkable. She's a lot calmer than I would have thought, he mused. Aloud, he said, "Precisely."

"I don't understand," Gwen said, her voice shaking slightly. "Why are the artifacts so important? What is it that they do?"

Well, she was bound to ask that question sooner or later, he thought ruefully.

Taking a steadying breath, Forneus resigned himself to walking the tenuous line between too much information, and not enough. He had promised to tell her everything she wanted to know, but doing so had been poor judgment on his part. The council had made it clear that telling her too much could lead to future complications, that it could very well put her life in jeopardy. But in his experience, the opposite also held true.

"Forneus?"

Gwen's voice broke through his thoughts, and he offered her a reassuring smile. "My apologies. I was just trying to decide how best to explain it to you," he replied, bowing his head. "Do you recall what Phenex said earlier? More specifically, when he mentioned the seals?"