For years, the symbols she had carved into her body had given her nothing. She received no power, no answers, and no signs that anything was changing. Those who observed her during that time described her as not looking like someone waiting for results. She looked like someone who had already decided that the results were not the point.
When the day came, it came without warning. She did not prepare for it. She was simply ready.
— Chronicle of the First Age. Ledger Archives, Marialis branch. Transcriber unknown.
The footsteps descending the stairs one by one, unhurried, had been growing closer. Veylith and Ravah were straining with everything they had just to reach their weapons, drenched in sweat, managing only to straighten slightly. Darian and Tivver were suffering as though crushed beneath an enormous weight. Vaelra had been able to resist this power once, even if only partially, but she knew that in her current state it was impossible. If only I had felt this coming earlier, I could have warned them, she thought, fighting her own mind. They had been so close to getting out…
Kaelin couldn't understand it, but she felt no fear — only a sense of sinking into a familiar darkness. As though she were being slowly pulled beneath the surface of water, gradually beginning to drown. And yet even then, what she felt was not fear.
First the boots appeared, then his body slowly, and finally Tarr'en's face. Nearly all of them showed signs of rage at once, but the harder they fought the more they were crushed. The curses they would have screamed were practically readable in their eyes. Vaelra had known this was coming and still couldn't master her fury. Kaelin, rather than rage, felt a vast emptiness open inside her. That face — the last time she had seen it, it had torn open a deep wound in her, a loss she had not yet named. A face had risen before her eyes then; she could almost see the morning light falling across skin and hair as it lay against her chest.
This was the most beautiful morning of my life…
The sound of his final step on the stairs swallowed everything again, and the darkness returned. The man moved slowly through the bodies, advancing toward her. He gave no attention to the men groaning on the floor, nor to the others watching him as though they would tear him apart. His focus held only one person. After a few more steps he stopped at the center of the entrance, standing between them with only a few paces separating them, looking down at Kaelin with an expression that bordered on contempt.
"I didn't think you'd be this foolish," he said. His was the only voice in the room, and though he spoke quietly it carried a faint echo. "Only a fool would think they could walk in and out of Warden headquarters to rescue some insignificant woman." As he said it he let his gaze drift briefly toward Veylith. Veylith stared back at him like a devil in chains, with an expression that would have given even the most seasoned warrior pause. Then he let his eyes move across the others before continuing. "Especially with a group this mismatched and mediocre." He leaned down toward Ravah. "What happened — did you forget how to move?" Every vein in Ravah's neck had risen to the surface. He straightened and turned back to Kaelin.
"Though I am grateful, I suppose, that you came all the way to me and fell right into my hands." He turned his back to her for a moment, as though lost in thought. "You know they ordered me to stay away from you — for my own safety." He said the last part with unmistakable mockery. "While they treat me like a security risk, they choose to sit and wait for someone to come from the center and save their skins." The anger in his voice was rising now. He spread his arms wide. "Even Veylor — perhaps the most dangerous fighter in this city." Then he dropped his voice again. "Cowards." At the name, something flickered across Veylith's face — a flash of surprise she couldn't entirely contain.
Tarr'en had begun to pace, circling slowly. "Look at this great threat they fear so much — a common whore, down on her knees." Then he stopped a few paces in front of her again. He studied her in silence for a moment. There was no fear on Kaelin's face, but neither was there the demonic fury of Veylith's. She looked at him the way you look at darkness itself — deep and unsettling.
"How old are you?" he said, though it wasn't really a question. "Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?" He tilted his head slightly. "You have no idea what you're carrying, do you." That wasn't a question either. He drew a slow breath and straightened his posture. "The last host died twenty-eight years ago," he continued. "For at least fifteen years after that they searched. I was on the assignment myself for the last three years. But then it was decided the search might be futile — that it might not resurface within our lifetimes. So they called it off. Until the next sign." He paused. "And then, in a port city — my city — a whore accidentally kills a judge." He almost laughed. The smile died before it reached his face.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Kaelin rasped, forcing the words out through almost clenched teeth. Everyone was startled — none more than Tarr'en. She should barely be able to breathe by now, he thought, nearly letting it show as he looked at her. "Since you'll be spending the rest of your life half-conscious in the dark, I suppose I can tell you a story." Then with a theatrical motion he turned on his heel — though it looked more like he wanted to hide his face.
"You know the story, just as everyone does. In the age when gods enslaved mankind, an ordinary woman found the courage to stand before a god with nothing but a dagger in her hand."
"The Allmother," said Kaelin. Tarr'en stopped for just a moment — but since his back was turned, she couldn't see the discomfort that crossed his face.
"She hunted the gods one by one for years and took their power from them one by one. Until what she carried had grown beyond what even gods could control. Then she divided that power and distributed it among those she had chosen. Perhaps she believed what she distributed was finite — that it would weaken and spread thin over time. But she was creating something that would change the world forever, and she was profoundly wrong about one thing."
"The scripts," said Kaelin. The pressure on the others was intensifying, yet she could still speak. Tarr'en was beginning to find this irritating.
"Yes. What she created was the source of all script magic. But she was wrong about one thing — the seven foundational scripts she distributed did not disappear when their hosts died. For three thousand years they have passed from host to host, carried forward to the present day. The power that once belonged to the gods—" He paused. "—is still walking among us. What we possess is nothing but a shadow of it, Miss Haln."
He fell silent for a brief moment, as though listening to something outside. "Most of them we've found. Over the centuries most have been either used or — well, let's say prevented from being used. One in particular has corrected a great deal for our guild. It continues to do so. But there is one that resists. One that has disrupted too many plans."
He crouched beside her, bringing himself closer. "The truth is that every foundational script leaves a mark on its host. It functions essentially as a seal, and it is usually mistaken for a birthmark. A useful quality that makes our work considerably easier. But one of the scripts has never once created a mark on its host. Among those we were able to catch across the centuries, nothing distinguishing was ever found. We could only track it by identifying anomalies — like searching for an older piece of straw in a haystack. Most of the time we assumed the host died without ever becoming aware of it. But sometimes — if we were fortunate — the host would create an anomaly large enough to give itself away. An accident that could crack the seal over an entire city block." He continued holding her gaze with unmistakable meaning.
"So what was its power? This script you couldn't find…" Kaelin answered. Even as the pressure on the others grew, she could still speak. The things he was saying had put her on edge, but her true purpose was to buy time. If she could move for even a moment, she might be able to attack him — and the others would be free. She knew a few seconds would be enough for them.
Tarr'en knew the conversation needed to end. Even with additional pressure applied she was still speaking. But he still had to keep them all contained until reinforcements arrived. "We call it the Truth script," he said, rising and moving a few steps away from her, "but no one truly knows what its full nature is capable of." He paused. "We have many theories. But our history lesson ends here, I'm afraid."
At the far end of the corridor, Rhoren was finally beginning to come back to himself inside the dissipating smoke. He could only barely open his eyes. His body still refused to move. He could do nothing but look toward where the voices were coming from. When he swept his gaze across the corridor and saw all his men lying on the ground, his anger rose again. Even though his body still wouldn't obey him, seeing that everyone was contained had brought him a measure of relief. That was when Tarr'en's target — the girl standing before him — caught his eye. It was the same strange aura he had seen at the Red Lantern. So it had been her from the very beginning, he thought. But what was truly strange was that the white fractures in it were growing.
Returning to the position he had first stood in, Tarr'en said, "What we find ourselves in, Miss Haln, is nothing more than a spelling error that needs correcting in a plan that has been unfolding for thousands of years." There was an odd sincerity in his voice. "You are not a human being to us. You are simply an event."
Kaelin felt the same emptiness she had felt that night all over again. But this time there was no light inside the darkness. No direction to follow, no door to walk through. This was not a forced emptiness — it was an accepted darkness. And it was swallowing her whole. She tried to speak but this time no sound came.
"An accident," the man continued, "that has never understood what it carries and never will. You are in no position to pose a threat to anyone. You can't even protect the people beside you, and yet the Ledger is supposed to fear you — what a bitter joke." The anger in Kaelin's eyes had begun to surface now. The rage born of helplessness was starting to overwhelm everything else.
"Ah yes — one more thing," Tarr'en said, turning back to her, unable to contain a final flicker of distaste and irritation. One last sentence, aimed purely at causing her pain. "How is your girlfriend?"
That last sentence turned Kaelin's entire body numb in an instant. Then a heat began rising from somewhere inside her — as though she were catching fire, her body beginning to burn. The focus in her eyes began to dissolve, everything blurring at the edges. Tarr'en could see her body trembling. Every vein in her neck had risen to the surface.
From a distance, Rhoren was witnessing something none of the others could see. The fractures in the girl's aura were growing — widening — and white light was bleeding through them. Until at one point the entire aura was covered in them. When the girl closed her eyes and screamed the way a person screams before battle, everything shattered. A pure white aura blazed to life around her unlike anything he had ever seen, and it was still growing.
When Kaelin finally opened her eyes, they blazed white. It was clear Tarr'en hadn't expected this — he had gone utterly still, staring at her. When Kaelin forced herself back to her feet from her knees, no longer just Rhoren but everyone in that corridor could see the light she was radiating. But what they saw was not white like her aura. It was red. A blood-red light had wrapped around her like a living flame. Veylith was the closest to her, and what she was witnessing had left her without any idea what to feel. The others were equally stunned, staring at her with shock. Vaelra, watching from the back, felt something warm and familiar stir inside her. As though she had seen this before. As though she had lived it.
"I'll admit you've managed to surprise me, Miss Haln," Tarr'en continued, and to maintain this kind of composure before what he was seeing required performance. For Tarr'en, that was precisely what it was. Even now, looking down at her, he was concealing his uncertainty and his shock behind a mask. "It appears there may be something inside you after all. But I don't imagine this little display will be of much use."
The instant he finished the sentence he moved toward her, and a light began to emerge around him as well. The light radiating from the man was a deep shade of gray, his eyes a lighter gray but gray nonetheless. Against Kaelin's blazing white eyes, his were far more terrifying. "Do you really think you can stand against me with powers you don't even understand, you whore!" His voice came out deeper and more frightening than his own. At that, the level of pressure in the room reached something entirely different. It was no longer simply inability to move — they were all beginning to feel genuine pain. Even Rhoren, who had barely felt the pressure before, could hear the sound coming from his own bones where he lay.
Kaelin was forced back down onto her knees.
"Now stay in your natural position," Tarr'en said, his voice deeper still, "and accept your fate."
Kaelin was aware that the fury building inside her had opened something, but as the man himself had said, she was trying to use and control something she didn't understand. No matter how hard she tried she knew she was forcing something. On her knees, she looked at the others. All of them were looking at her — as though waiting for something, as though expecting it from her. The helplessness of letting them down began to take hold of her again. But then she found Veylith's eyes.
Veylith wasn't looking at her with expectation or fear. It was as though she were trying to tell her something — but Kaelin couldn't make it out. Even so, for a reason she couldn't explain, she kept looking. When Veylith finally understood she had Kaelin's attention, she slowly began to release the tension from her body — even through the agony. The veins at her neck disappeared and an expression almost like emptiness settled over her face. As though she had accepted the pain. Kaelin still didn't understand what she was doing. But then Veylith slowly closed her eyes, and it struck her all at once. She even thought for a moment she could hear her voice.
Go with the flow.
Kaelin closed her eyes and surrendered to this power she didn't understand. But to do it she had realized she would need to face her own depths the way she dove into the dark seas of others. And suddenly she found herself in water again — but this time it was different from theirs. The sea was luminous, and the bottom blazed white. When she looked down she could see a dark point far below, and she began to descend toward it. As she drew close and reached out her hand, the darkness wrapped around her completely. Faces and places began to pass around her. She saw her mother. She saw her father — little more than an old memory. She saw the people who had moved through her life, those she was trying to save right now, Veylith, Vaelra… and last of all she saw Mayra, and there she stopped. Kaelin wanted to turn away but she couldn't move. She kept looking at her, heavy with guilt and grief. But Mayra was smiling at her. In the darkness there seemed to be no light left, yet that face kept shining. In that moment she finally understood — she had been living inside a cage she had built for herself over years. Walls built of guilt and helplessness, walls behind which she had grown so accustomed to not seeing how vast a sea she truly was. These faces were not here to blame her or to be angry with her. They were here to bring her out. Tears ran down her face as she looked at Mayra one last time.
Thank you.
Between the dark walls, light had begun to bleed through once more. The faces were still there, but the darkness was dissolving. And then Kaelin was inside a sea of pure white. It felt like freedom — though she had never fully known the word, so she couldn't quite name what she felt. The pressure bearing down on her eased, gradually, and then was gone. When she opened her eyes again, the light she was radiating doubled in an instant. This time she rose to her feet without effort, and looked at Veylith, who had opened her eyes as well. A faint smile touched Veylith's face. Then Kaelin turned to Tarr'en, who could no longer fully conceal the shock on his own.
"You were right that I don't know what this is," she said, and began walking toward him. "But the truth is — neither do you." She stopped when she reached him.
"You — but how—" Tarr'en snarled, the fury breaking through at last.
"You said it yourself. Truth script." She paused for a brief moment. "You have to accept it before you can understand it." Then she drew the dagger from her belt and drove it swiftly into his abdomen. "No matter how hard that is." She withdrew the blade. As blood began pouring from the wound in a steady stream, the same shock was still written across the man's face — but alongside it, an emptiness had begun to surface. When the light surrounding him flickered and died, the others slowly began to realize they could move again.
Tarr'en pressed his hands to the wound in his abdomen and sank to his knees in front of Kaelin. Then, through a rasping breath, he managed one final smile. "Now you've killed yourself," he said. Then he began to writhe in pain, tearing at his shirt and baring his chest. His chest was blazing red, and a symbol was surfacing across it. The symbol she had seen at the very beginning of everything. "It was always you," Kaelin said quietly to herself. And then a light that blinded everything swallowed them all.