He should have expected that. How was a simple Vested Caster to do something as absurd as making life? A life, anyway. Regardless, it appeared that even with the heightened immensity of his force within the Grayworld, such things were still out of the realm of potentialities.
Which meant only one thing.
He muttered, eyes still shut, enjoying the sweet calmness of the internal darkness. Amazing. But even that did not excuse the fear that bubbled up from this latest notion. Strength. The thing he needed, the thing he always wanted.
It was one thing attempting to create a friend back in the safety of the Grayworld, and another to venture out into reality in search of Honorific words. Who knew what kind of attention this act would garner him? Who knew what consequences would be projected from the event?
Not for him, of course. He had learned this now; consequences never truly targeted him. No, they pointed at the others. His people, the Sun-Witnesses… the ones who had no hand in the act.
It was a risk to attempt. The question was: was this a risk he was willing to take?
Merrin rubbed his head, and thus came an answer: No. He could not be the catalyst for any more death to the Witnesses. He would watch them, but his hands should not be the source of their unmaking.
Why? Because he could still hear it: the screams as they died within the undermines. The terror and swiftness as Morgan took the lives of those who stood before him. They had suffered greatly all because he wanted a spear and a shield.
I deserve tenfold of what they felt.
And yet, despite all this… he could still hear their prayers. In gatherings, they would echo reverence unto him. This he had come to learn through the Ardent he placed among them. Invisible, yes, but the connection could be triggered, allowing for the sharing of senses. The sight, the ears, the taste, the smell… and if he so desired a greater something, he could risk the total depletion of force in order to stand before them.
But… what would he even say?
A nudge found him again. Oh, that.
A voice came with it. "Why did you think lying atop a shelf was a safety?" The tone held laughter. "Or could it be you have so quickly found a home in the Black Eyes…?" She paused. "Black eyes, realize?" A chuckle came next.
Was that a joke? Merrin maintained his closed eyes. No particular reason existed for their continuation, but there was hope… hope that just maybe, with eyes as tightly shut as his, she would… walk away?
Did that even make sense?
Shae asked, "Do you think I'm something like an animal?"
Merrin opened his eyes, staring at the supposed second-in-command of the Black Eyes. That information was easily deduced. Her hair was still tied in a bun, despite how short it was. Her form was dressed in a black shirt, tight trousers, and a cloak that rounded her body… and her hands, those were wrapped in black cloth from the wrist to the elbow.
A visage for battle.
Merrin remained locked on her face, which hovered above his—a simple presence in hers. "I hope you enjoyed your sleep up here."
"The wood is good."
"Good elastic wood," she responded. "But seriously, did you think playing at sleep would drive me away?"
"It was a hope." There was a faint grogginess in his voice. Manageable, though.
She laughed. "A stupid one." Standing now, she looked down at him. "You remember the deal you made with us."
"You mean the one about helping you… steal."
She shrugged. "Words and their meanings are up to the speaker to decide," she voiced. "It doesn't matter to me. What does matter is whether I can convince you to join us."
You would have an easier time quelling the Everstorm. Merrin pursed his lips, a rather odd thing to do. "So, where is this happening?"
"A noble," Shae said. "A new one."
He frowned. "How can there be a new BrightCrown?" He sat up. "Are you perhaps attempting to steal from a child?"
"What?" Her lips puffed with air… then, just then, came a wild laughter. "Oh, my God!" Her back trembled. "A child? You think I—? Oh, Sister, help me."
Merrin rolled his eyes. "So, no?"
"Of course not." She waved as a stray light-orb washed a hue across her features. Just for a moment, she seemed burning in white shades. "It's not a child, but instead a new BrightCrown. I'm unsure how that happened, whether they are part of the Noctisian High Family or just a member of their vassal clan that sought sanctuary in Nightfell. Nonetheless, we are going to rob them."
"They might be seeking sanctuary, and you want to rob them?"
"Please," she waved him off. "You are suffocating. We can't have you attempting to rob one of the leaders of the camps."
"So this is a test?"
"Yes." She snapped her fingers. "I mean, I've seen what you can do… Sunbringer. You are undoubtedly strong, most likely at the rank of a Devoted Caster, or even a Redeemed."
"Vested."
"What?"
Merrin sighed. "I'm a Vested-rank Caster."
Then came the silence. Shae's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat. "You're kidding."
"No."
"How?"
"Mystery."
She covered her lips, a grin spreading at the corner. "Now that's interesting."
"Hmmm."
She placed her right hand on her hip. "A VeilCounsel Ashman, a Nightsailer who calls himself Sunbringer… a powerful one, and not even at the Devoted rank yet." Her smile widened. "Stand up. Let's go steal something."
Merrin stared at her for a moment and wept inside. Again, he had done it. Again, he had brought another into his life. This woman now would, without knowing it, seek out the next words of the VeilCounsel. He hated that part of the Caster… the pragmatism of it all. Using her for his own means, even without his own full awareness.
In a sense, that pool of swirling data often came to a conclusion, initiating plans without his own sense of it—or at least, his complete sense. It happened akin to the execution of a plan that came from a flash of need. A simple thought that the Caster within took as a desire. Of course, like many things, he could control it… But the fact that he didn't, the fact that he carried on, spoke of a horrible thing.
Was Catelyn right about me? Do I simply use them for my own gain?
—
They stood now atop a high building. Flat and square, as was most in Nightfell. This one, however, was longer, more massive. And Shae had shifted them to its top. Amazing how expressive her powers were. And with observation of it came urging questions.
What symbols were they? And how was she so fast with it?
He did learn something, though. Her knives, somehow, were required for the travel. Maybe as a point for the shift? Or something else entirely?
What were they?
Lightning boomed across the world, whiteness flashing through the dark face of the heavens. No storm today—for now, at the very least. It wasn't good for me.
The Ashman within, dying yes, still craved the water…And the steam, of course.
His eyes went up, staring at that rolling, foamy spread of darkness above. On all sides they went, endless and covering all of Eastos.
What a depressing thing… nothing at all like the warmth of the heavens he felt in Orvane's dream. Now that brightness, that sweet warmth, the air and the flora…All of it was in a word, paradise.
Would Enor ever return like that? More of a prayer than a hope.
Suddenly…
Wind blasted into his face, fluttering his clothes and hair in that cold exhale, one that had been cooled by the froststone field.
Shae was crouched on the building, her cloak swaying madly in the gust. "That's the building." She pointed at something in particular within a mass of similar square structures.
Merrin nodded as though he knew. "Why couldn't you just shift us into the building?"
"Shift?" She glanced back at him. "Oh, that…" A head shake. "BrightCrowns often have wardings against these things."
"Wardings?"
"Complicated symbolic work used to prevent all manner of intrusion into their homes. The truly high families are secure enough that a Saint or an equal force is needed to sneak in through casting."
Wardening… Merrin went inwards, pondering. Did Ivory have that? She's a member, a BrightCrown of the Valor Clan, so shouldn't she have those things? Some protection?
Something that should have made my entry harder?
The thought swirled within. A conclusion arriving soon after: Perhaps the Grayworld simply brute-forced in regardless.
A cold went down his body.
What a terrible thing it must be for her—to know that no safety existed against some creature you don't even know. A creature that could very much have some illness for your people.
Merrin shook his head. I could never trust something like me to the witnesses.
Shae stood, a smile present on her features. "Let's go, then."
"Any plan?"
She rested her arm on her waist. "It's simple, really. Don't get caught, don't die, don't let them see your face… and anywhere you see enough guards, it usually means there's something important there."
"Wait, what?"
She jumped off the building.
Is she mad? Merrin was stunned. Isn't stealing all about the stealth of it all?
Oh, lords above, what is this?