Irimina’s voice rose. “My people?” Eyes ablaze, her voice sizzled with hatred. “My parents were Felani. Your people killed most of my family with your invasion. How can you defend what you did? Countless innocents, countless Ashishin and Dagodin slaughtered. Your people, under the Shadowbearer’s banner did that. You abandoned Ilumni and served Amuni. What did you expect? Mercy? Your people deserve to be wiped from Denestia.”
Garon hissed and reached for his axe.
“Don’t Garon,” Edsel said, his voice quiet. “Beastsinger, there’s much for you to learn. You rage against us with righteousness, but do your people really follow the Streamean Tenets?”
Ryne thought about Halvor. Why did he make me repeat light’s Tenets? Could anyone follow all the Tenets without breaking one?
Edsel continued before Irmina answered, his tone almost conversational. “Many Setian killed were fleeing the shade and Nerian. Those of us who didn’t turn were forced into the Shadowbearer’s war. But then you know this, or you should. His armies held our children and the elderly hostage. We either had to fight or watch them die. I witnessed my children suffer, flayed limb by limb. What would’ve been your choice?”
Irmina’s body shook, and she opened her mouth.
“What he says is true,” Ryne said. “I wasn’t a part of the war, but I saw what came after. Many Setian died by my own hand after I joined one of the Dagodin cohorts hunting them down. We slaughtered them by the thousands.” Never again. “But just as many Setian were innocent, not turned by the shade. I fought against killing the innocent, but the Granadians wanted retribution. So did the other Ostanian tribes. They intended to kill every Setian and wipe the land of Seti from the map.
“One day, we came upon Edsel’s clan hiding within some marshes and swamps. We hunted them down, dragged them out, and lined them up. Edsel begged for mercy. He spoke of all his clan had suffered in their efforts to refuse serving the Shadowbearer’s purpose. I could see they were good people. I begged the soldiers to stop, but they began to kill the men first. Then they raped the women and children. The muddy marsh waters ran red with blood.” The visions of that day spilled through Ryne’s head. Never again.
Ryne’s voice was as hollow as an empty grave. “What they did was no better than what the Setian and the shade’s minions had done. Finally, I could take no more. I intervened, and in doing so, was forced to kill several Ashishin and Dagodin to help Edsel escape.”
“Why would you help murderers?” Irmina's high-pitched voice broke in. “They wiped out whole cities! They deserved no better than they received.”
Several Setian paused or stopped. Edsel flicked his hand out, and they continued riding.
“Because,” Ryne answered, “The killing needed to stop, Irmina. Who did the children-the babies-kill? It needed to stop. For the sake of all the people, not just yours or theirs.”
“I still remember those days.” Edsel’s soft hissing voice echoed in the pass. “We ran for weeks, fighting, dying, eluding regular soldiers, Dagodin and Ashishin alike. A month later, we reached Coronad Port and took a ship. But the Tribunal’s armies caught us. I took as many as I thought we needed to start anew. Lightbringer stayed with my people who volunteered to defend the docks in order for our ship to escape. Four High Ashishin arrived and the massacre of the remnants of my people began, until Ryne alone battled them. Then he was gone from sight. I still don’t know what happened after that, Lightbringer. I’ve heard stories, but they always seem more legend than life.”
Irmina’s wide eyes regarded Ryne. “You alone stopped four High Ashishin?” she whispered.
Ryne held her gaze for a moment before she looked away. “Me and Sakari. We fought until the barriers Edsel’s people had Forged gave out and exhaustion took us. I was ready to accept death then. I deserved it for the lives I took. They sent me before the Tribunal, and although they condemned me to death, the High Ashishin didn’t kill me. Instead, they imprisoned me in the Iluminus for years. I didn’t see Sakari again until later, but I could feel him being tortured. The things they did to him…”
He remained silent for a moment before he continued. “As for me, they tried torturing me into telling them how my power worked. Day after day, they beat me with divya whips. They tried to strip the skin from my flesh to inspect my Scripts. When that wouldn’t work, they beat me some more. Then they mended me and started all over again.” Ryne shuddered as the lashes from the whips seared fresh across his flesh.
Irmina’s face held a pitiless expression. “You killed Ashishin and fought alongside the Setian-”
Ryne cut her off. “No matter how I tried, I couldn’t grasp Mater to defend myself. It seemed always out of my reach.”
“No…” Irmina’s face that seconds ago was red with anger and contempt paled to a pasty white. “They wouldn’t.”
“I found out later they had Warped the Mater around me, twisting the elements so I couldn’t touch them.”
“But, Warping requires sela,” Irmina said slowly. “They would need to have killed someone to gather the power to work such a Forging. One person’s sela could maybe Warp enough Mater for a week. If they kept you imprisoned for years, then hundreds of people…Oh, Ilumni.” Tears came to her eyes.
The pain etched on Irmina’s face reminded Ryne of his own shame for the atrocities he’d committed. He wished he knew a way to console her because his next words would make her feel no better. “When they saw the torture wouldn’t work, they brought in scholars to study me. They too were left stumped. A few months later, a High Ashishin visited me escorted by several of his Pathfinders. My Scripts raged out of control at their presence, threatening to destroy the Warping because I saw these men for what they were. Those men, supposed servants of Ilumni, were all under the shade’s influence.”
“Another High Ashishin and Pathfinders serving Amuni? Like Nerian? No, no that cannot be.” Irmina’s voice was a mere shell.
Ryne shook his head. “It’s true. I tried to tell the guards but they didn’t listen. They said I was mad. Then he had my guards replaced with his own.”
Edsel studied Irmina for a moment, a smug expression on his face. “So you see, everything is not always what it seems to be. Even among your own people.”
Irmina returned a stunned look. Her mouth opened and closed, but she uttered no words.
They reached end of the pass and entered a valley. Below them, thick grass and large trees hugged the slopes. A river’s rushing waters sounded in the dark.
Appearing to have recovered her senses somewhat, Irmina asked, “How…How did you escape?”
“There came another meeting with the Tribunal. They decided that instead of killing me, they would put me to use. My new punishment was to help purge Ostania of both the Setian and the shade beyond the Vallum. The next day, the tainted High Ashishin returned with his Pathfinders. They chained me in divya chains and put me on a ship with Sakari. For weeks, we sailed with them only bringing me up once a week for fresh air. I fought madness daily, with my Scripts feeling as if they wanted to tear off my skin. Every time they took me upstairs, I opened myself to my Scripts. I learned that although I couldn’t grasp Mater; my Scripts could, but I would need to give in to them. I allowed them to store as much essences as they craved.
“During the trip the High Ashishin studied me for hours on end. Three months into our journey, I overheard the guards mention we were soon at our destination. But I knew they would never take me to the Dagodin and Ashishin armies. So, the next time they brought me up for air. I let my Scripts loose.
“To this day, I’ve never felt such power. It almost tore my soul and my body apart. I still cannot remember what happened. Somehow, I woke floating in the sea on a piece of driftwood left from the ship. Through my Scripts, I drew my armor and my sword to myself and swam to shore. Sakari found me there soon after. He nursed me back to health.”