Everyone started when Gavin took a deep breath.
Gavin opened his eyes. Ovir and Marcus stood at the foot of his bed, and Kiri knelt at his left side, his hand clutched in hers as her eyes shone with unshed tears.
Without any preamble, Marcus walked around the bed to approach Gavin from his right side. Nearing the head of the bed, Marcus reached out and pulled down the collar of Gavin’s tunic to reveal the base of his neck and the area where his collarbones met. Marcus held the pose for several moments before nodding and returning to Ovir’s side.
“What was that about?” Gavin asked.
“I was checking to see if you changed sides.”
“And if I had?”
Marcus looked at Gavin in silence for a few moments before saying, “You wouldn’t be alive to ask.”
Silence took over the room, an awkward weight that settled like a dense, heavy fog.
“He…Lornithar…spoke with me.”
Ovir’s jaw dropped, but Marcus scoffed.
“I’m not surprised,” the old wizard said. “What did he offer you?”
“Full restoration of my memories. He said something about how an old man took much from me. He returned memories of my daughter…as a good-faith gesture, he said.”
“Why didn’t you agree? I’ve seen how much you want to know who you are,” Kiri said.
Gavin shifted his attention to Kiri, and now, he remained silent for several moments. At last, he said, “There was something about him. I just didn’t have a good feeling about him.”
Gavin almost mentioned how Lornithar had threatened Kiri’s family, but he was torn. He didn’t want to cause Kiri any undue worry, and Lornithar didn’t seem all that capable of delivering on those threats just yet.
“He must not have been trying very hard with you, then,” Marcus said. “Lornithar can be very persuasive when he chooses.”
“Who is Lornithar anyway? He told me, but I’m not sure I trust him enough to believe what he told me.”
Marcus exhaled heavily and said, “At some point in the distant past, before written history, Lornithar came to this world and set himself up as its ruler and god, and he chose lieutenants among each race to enforce his will and round out his ‘pantheon.’” Marcus’s eyes unfocused as he stared at the wall behind Gavin’s head, looking at something only he could see. “Milthas was the first. He was an elf sentenced to death for despicable acts that would make Kiri’s last two years seem like a garden party. Lornithar plucked him from the executioner’s block and elevated him. It wasn’t long until Milthas began styling himself the God of Magic. Lornithar chose eight or so more, and they terrorized this world for uncounted ages as our ‘gods.’ It wasn’t until Valthon and Nesta found us and supported our fight that we had a chance. That was the beginning of the Godswar.” Marcus blinked and scanned his surroundings, before shaking himself as if to push away old memories.
An awkward silence descended on the room. No one spoke or moved for several moments. At last, Gavin extracted his left hand from Kiri’s grasp and, pushing back the blanket that covered him, swung his feet to the floor. Gavin pushed himself to his feet and swayed…but stayed upright.
“I feel far too weak, but I think I can return to the College.”
“That weakness is due to the nature of the blade that wounded you,” Marcus said. “Look at your right forearm.”
Gavin lifted his right arm and almost gasped at the sight. A wavy line snaked from his elbow to his wrist. The quarter-inch at the center of the line was pure Void, lacking any color or light, but the black became a gradient for the eighth of an inch on either side of the line.
“Marcus! What is this? What happened?”
“You were touched by a Void-blade, a weapon unique to a group known as the Lornithrasa. I won’t go into the full particulars right now, but if you were not a wizard, you would never have awoken. The Void-blade drains the life of its victims, consuming their souls, and it is only through the peculiarities of our nature that wizards survive the blade. Do you remember the diagnostic I had you perform? The orb of power?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Do it now.”
Gavin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He focused on the seed of power at the pit of his soul and pushed it into his arm and down to his hand, willing it to manifest. Gavin felt the first pin-prick of light appear and began drawing from the ambient power that suffused all creation, feeding the pin-prick and growing it into a kaleidoscopic sphere about the size of a tennis ball.
“Open your eyes, and look at the scar on your arm.”
Gavin opened his eyes and felt his eyes widen just a bit. The thick line was no more; the scar was just thick enough to distinguish, about twice the diameter of fine thread.
“How do you feel, Gavin?”
The orb of power wobbled a bit as Gavin took stock of himself, shifting to an oversized egg for a few moments.
“I feel normal. I’m not weak anymore.”
“Yes, you do. The power that makes us what we are is anathema to the Void-blade and what it does. You will never be able to rid yourself of that scar or its effects, but you can mitigate it for brief periods. So…are you certain you’re ready to return to the College?”
Gavin allowed the orb to dissipate and felt the weakness return. He was watching the scar when he released the orb and watched the wavy, black thread become the wavy, black rope he first saw.
“I had better be, don’t you think? Especially if what I feel right now is my new ‘normal?’”
Marcus smiled and nodded.
Gavin turned to Ovir and extended his hand, which Ovir accepted and gave a firm handshake, as he said, “Ovir, thank you for your hospitality once again. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope it’s quite some time before I see this part of the Temple again.”
Ovir laughed. “I don’t doubt it, and I agree!”
Gavin glanced over the room once more before he extended his left hand to Kiri. She seemed to hesitate a moment before she approached and accepted Gavin’s invitation.
“Ovir, I’ll see you for our weekly game,” Marcus said, before leading Gavin and Kiri into the hallway.
By the time they approached the door to Marcus’s suite, Kiri supported most of Gavin’s weight, and the Void-scar enveloped most of Gavin’s forearm. More than once as Gavin grew weaker and leaned more and more on Kiri, Marcus had tried to take some of the load, but she wouldn’t have it.
Marcus opened the suite’s door, and Kiri helped Gavin to the room they shared. She helped him reach the bed, where Gavin sat. Kiri saw how much effort it cost Gavin to hold himself sitting upright.
“Just give me a moment, Kiri, and I’ll go to bed,” Gavin said, his voice a soft shadow of its usual strength.
Kiri stepped past him and retrieved his pillow from the floor, placing it on the bed. “You’re already there, Gavin.”
“No…your bed.”
“You nearly died yesterday, Gavin; there’s no way I’m allowing you to sleep on the floor.”
Kiri thought he would argue further, but Gavin’s eyelids drooped. Kiri stepped close and guided him gently to lay on his right side, his head resting on the pillow. She stepped back and watched Gavin sleep, the slow rhythmic motion of his chest as he breathed. Why couldn’t you have found me when I washed up on that beach?
Chapter 17
Gavin’s eyes opened with a jerk. I’m wide awake. I’m never instantly wide awake, and what am I doing in Kiri’s bed? Oh, damn…did I…did we…?