Herald Of Shadows

Chapter One (part 2): Run

"Right now, we've seen heightened activity in all the patches, and several are beginning to expand. Slowly. We've only had reports of the water being infected form one though, and that is the biggest risk. It seems to be moving slowly, then dissipating out into the water." He looked around the table, face solemn. "But make not mistake, it is spreading through every waterway it can find leading out and away from Duncell."

"Our main concern right now," Dothwin said, touching his map again. "Is that it makes it to here, and meets up with the Elanya river..."

"The Elanya is a short, and very direct vein to the coast," the younger man said. "We don't know what it will do once there. Maybe nothing. Maybe the salt water would kill it. No one knows. But what seems more likely is that it will spread over the whole Eastern coast... and everything in its path."

A chill crawled up Anril's spine, settling into the back of his neck like an icy hand gripped it.

"So you're saying we're fucked?" A man's shrill voice shattered the silence.

Dothwin turned, giving him a withering look. "Restrain the urge to piss yourself, Martin. We have more important things to do than panic."

"Speak for yourself!" He roared. "My family lives in an unshielded city only a few leagues from a patch."

"Be. Calm." A dangerous quiet hung off Dothwin's words. Anril knew it meant he'd reached the end of his patience. "It isn't spreading that rapidly. New shields will be constructed, or people will be moved."

"Moved?" Martin said, spittle flew as he sputtered. "Moved! You can't just uproot noble houses like that! You can't make us move, abandon lands we've had for centuries. We are the backbone of this bloody empire!"

"I would argue that the backbone of this empire is the common folk," Vilia snapped. "Rather adamantly."

"Well it's fortunate no one considers your opinion anymore than the whispering of the winds—"

"Be. Calm." Dothwin's voice rose in a whip sharp crack that somehow wasn't a shout. "That is an order. You will all be silent and listen."

Tension enveloped the room like an invisible smoke, choking out their words. Martin opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and let it close.

"Good," Dothwin said. "We have one solution to the spread, at least considering the sea. At least for the moment."

"What?" Vilia eyed him, the word begrudging.

"We have to place a wall. The same principals as a shield, but straight and tall, and very, very long to cut off all the waterways leading from the Elanya into the Shade."

"So we build a wall."

An older woman shifted from foot to foot. "How many mages do we have willing to give themselves into the making of shields?" Her voice creaked with age. The same question did a silent dance over his lips. Older mages often put themselves into it when they were growing unstable and didn't want to die with the sickness eating them out.

"Enough." Dothwin drummed his fingers against the table in a looping pattern. "The main issue is this wall. I've been informed that it will require a much stronger than normal mage to make it."

"What about many?" someone asked.

"No, we can't risk their being seams in the wall for it to work through. Not on something as important at this." Dothwin stared down at his map, gaze cold.

"So what exactly are you suggesting then?" Vilia said. "The stronger mages within the Order are too important to be sacrificed for this, and good luck finding a rogue who gives a shit."