Chapter 32: Way Leads On To Way

Chapter 32: Way Leads On To Way

We phrase national identity as a form of altruism, in most respects; it is a conferred set of values that stands as an equal alongside natural bonds of family and friendship. Just as a man might defer or subvert his individual wants to aid a member of his family, so too do we ask that he act contrary to his base nature in the name of his countrymen.

It is a relatively recent invention, for all that we prize it. Those in the past identified first with their family, their family with their village, that villages headman with the regional lord, and so on upward to the ultimate ruler of a nation. There was no call to cultivate such a personal relationship with the state, a demand that each individual consider themselves first and foremost Gharic or Mendiko. Indeed, such tendencies were largely discouraged by local lords who preferred that their residents privilege their regional identities more highly than that of some far-distant central government.

We see this too in our past wars, where individual lords added or withdrew their armies based on their preference. In the War, however, each man is called to fight as a personal pledge, a commitment of one alone to stand alongside his countrymen. Where a lord might have dissented, what is one man to do if he questions the direction of his country? Where is one man to turn if the demands of this fresh bond become too much to bear?

It is not an inherent evil to afford individuals direct links to the state, but nations lack the humanity that defined prior bonds of lordship and kin. They are instead a species of petty god with priests that play as statesmen. Some feel I am too harsh to term them such; for my proof I need only point to their treatment of apostates.

- Leire Gabarain, Annals of the Sixteenth Star, 693.

The path meandered north into a low rolling scrubland, the sun coming low and golden over the crest of distant hills. Dust from their mounts flew swiftly away on a breeze rushing down from the highlands. Michael felt suspended between two extremes - chill on his left, glowing warmth on his right. He closed his eyes to luxuriate in the feeling of the sunlight, sighing frustratedly as he saw the path ahead even so; sometimes his spectors sight was an annoyance.

Warmth vanished as Sofias horse dropped back to ride at his side, blocking the light. You seem anxious, she said.

Is it strange if I am? Michael asked. Sobriquet may be dying - may be dead.

Sofia gave him a mild smile. Not dead, she said. Though I can see little else, so some anxiety is perhaps normal. Im not the one to ask if a thing is strange - but you do seem different to my eyes. She frowned. I suppose thats to be expected. Youve had - these past months must have been hard for you. Hoofbeats sounded low and regular between them for a span as the quiet stretched out. Im sorry, for what its worth.

Sorry? Michael asked, looking at her. She hadnt spoken at length, when he had met her before; it was oddly disconcerting to hear her do so now.

She did not answer right away. Sofias emotions came only dimly to Michael, but he caught murmurs from her - regret, guilt, pain. I started a chain of events in motion, she said. Jeorg is dead, now, and you- She turned her head towards him. I sometimes act thoughtlessly, despite my sight. My failing laid a burden upon you. To bear Stanza, to suffer and kill Spark - Im sorry, Michael, for my part in it.

Michael shook his head, finding a smile creeping on to his face. Im not, he said. Where would I be, if not for you? Spark would have had me either way. You sending me to Jeorg is the only reason he doesnt have me still.

And the reason Jeorg is gone, she murmured.

I dont think he would blame you, Michael said. Neither of us could have forced him to do something against his will. And beside that - I think he was ready to leave that valley. He was so excited to be traveling, to be moving forward once more- His words caught in his throat. I dont know what would have happened if we had made it to Mendian together, in honesty. Im not sure that we would have found what he sought.

And what was that? Sofia asked.

Im not sure, Michael said. But Ive found that events continue to defy my expectations. Im not sure why Mendian should have been any different.

There was another whisper of emotion from Sofia, gone before Michael could place it. For years I despaired of ever being surprised again, she said. Recently Ive had more than my fill of events going against expectations, as you say. Life has become - too massive, its moving parts too fluid to clearly see ahead. So much turns on the whims of a few men, and the rest is obscured in darkness. She looked ahead, down the road. Your friend has not helped matters. Even now there are so many things left unknowable from Sobriquets meddling, and I cannot see what the path ahead might hold.

Welcome to the ranks of the blind, Michael said, giving her a rueful smile. If its any consolation, Sobriquet is just as infuriating an ally as a nemesis.

An ally, Sofia murmured. Do you think thats possible?

Now it was Michaels turn to look ahead down the road. Truthfully, no, he said. I dont understand it, Sofia. I- He turned to fix her with his eyes. Do you know what they say about you? The partisans live in fear that Sibyl will draw up lists of their friends and family, that you will send soldiers to drag them from their beds. That darkness you hate, that meddling - it was all in the name of protecting people from you.

Everyone is justified in their own mind, Sofia said quietly. The partisans are justified in killing Ardans, and the Ardans are justified in killing Daressans. Ive seen men come home, wash blood off their hands and kiss their children. I see the good and evil all around me, all of it. Everyone draws that divide between those they care about and the rest of the world. Even the worst of men may love and be loved, in their way. If I stayed my hand for that, I would do nothing at all.

Michael shook his head. But where is the line? he asked. Vera used her soul on Clair. I wont ask if you knew, I know you did. How do you justify that? Even in defense of the ones you love, how?

Sofia did not answer, instead leaning forward to idly brush her fingers over her horses mane. Nothing filtered through to Michaels soul, though there was a persistent unsettled feeling that he could not shake. Finally, she straightened up. Do you know what I see, every day that Im here? she asked. Men dying, screaming, calling for their mothers in pools of blood and piss. I see their muscles seize, their eyes flare wide, their hearts quiver to a stop. I see it at night when I sleep. I see it right now. Do you want to talk about evil?

She leaned towards Michael, her mount obliging to bring her close. The War is evil. Nothing I might do comes close. Not even Spark compared. The War must end, Michael, and there are only so many ways it may end. I choose an Ardan victory. She glared for a moment, then leaned back. The partisans foul our way forward. They claim to want the War gone from Daressa; but for their sabotage, the War would be out of Daressa already.

She shivered, rubbing her arms despite the lingering warmth of the day. I know you think poorly of Vera for what she did. Of all of us. I see the hypocrisy in it. I just - I cant care about it. Not when I see what is happening every moment of every day, all around us. Im sorry that the best way forward is horrible - but it is the best way forward. Maybe with you by our side we might find a better path, but we cannot compromise the end in order to make the journey more pleasant.

Those who act to defend an ideal do not always have the luxury of following it, Michael murmured.

A pulse of relief flickered from Sofia. You understand, she said.

No, Michael sighed. Those were Sobriquets words. I dont understand either of you. Ive seen the end, and I know whats waiting there. The end is what doesnt matter. This meaningless journey in the middle is all that we have. I dont know how you expect to see anything other than horror if you join the rest in inflicting it upon others.

Sofia looked ahead, although Michael could see the all-encompassing eyes of her soul crowding around him even so. You remind me of Jeorg, she said. Perhaps Stanza influences its bearers in some way, gives them the fire of their ideals. Youre not wrong, nor was he. She did not move, but her soul grew thick around them, choking. The world broke Jeorg. It took his hope and threw it back in his face, left him to waste half his life hiding on a farm.

Michael pursed his lips. He found his ways to help.

He helped dozens, not the millions he could have helped. He was one of the Eight, Michael. Now you are too. Sofia let out a breath, and the tension in the air bled away. There is a limit to how much change you can effect in the world while keeping your hands clean.

Im here with you, arent I? Michael asked.

Sofias arch look was at odds with the flare of pain that his barb provoked; Michael denied the temptation to soften the remark.

She turned her horse off the road abruptly. Michael found himself following despite his surprise; his mount was rather more sanguine in its reaction and moved to walk behind her. His questions froze unasked when he saw a small hut hiding in the shade of the trees. They had arrived.

He spurred his horse faster, hearing rapid hoofbeats behind him as the others sped to follow. A thrill kindled in Michaels chest; he was no practiced rider, but some of his horses raw excitement at the pace bled into him as it took up its speed across the field. It was mere seconds before they reached the hut, and he reined the horse to a reluctant halt before hopping off.

The building was in poor shape, neglected if not abandoned. Its walls were splintered and bleached wood, with gaps in the slats and protruding nails. Half the roof was caved in. Michael walked through the empty doorframe and found a small, clear area under the roofed portion of the structure, with vegetation pared back and the floor swept clean.

There were the ashes of a banked fire, a small pack, and a bedroll with a young woman collapsed onto it. Michael bent down next to her and hesitated a moment, letting his soul surge within him before laying his fingers against her neck - but no foreign soul lashed out at his mind when he made contact.

He looked at Vera; she smiled at him. It hasnt met me yet, he murmured. Not really. He straightened up and looked toward the treeline, then back at Sofia. Im going to leave you here, he said. Dont try to follow. You cant catch me in a forest.

Dont, Sofia warned. Vera-

Vera laughed. I cant, she said, smiling at Sofias shocked expression. She inclined her head to Michael. And, more than that: I wont.

You - what did you do? Sofia breathed, staring at Michael with murder in her eyes. What did you do to her?

I will go, Michael said, backing toward the forest. And you will stay. The wood behind me bars the way. He turned and began to run into the trees, his soul pounding out of him with each footstep to part the undergrowth ahead and swell an impenetrable thicket in his wake. Goodbye, Sofia.

He heard her scream, hoarse and furious as Vera laughed - and then the trees closed in, and there was only silence.

It was past midnight when Sobriquet opened her eyes again, an indrawn hiss of breath causing Michael to slow his tireless run and kneel. Hey, he said, letting her down to the ground. Please dont knock me out. It would be very inconvenient right now.

Her eyes glinted in the starlight as she struggled to focus on his face. No, no, she groaned. You cant be here. Im- She turned her head to the side, her body flopping awkwardly over as she failed to rise to her feet. She rolled face-first into the dirt; Michael grinned as he propped her back upright against a tree.

Take a moment before you try to move, he said. You did something brave and stupid, and you nearly died for it.

You must be contagious, she coughed, spitting bits of leaf from her mouth. I look forward to a quick convalescence. There was a pause, and she looked off to the side. I remember Sibyls retainers-

I needed her to find you. Michael sat on a nearby outcrop, stretching out his legs. They shouldnt be able to follow us here easily, even if Sibyl can see us now. He looked upward and waved. Sorry again, Sofia. I never meant for it to end this way.

She cant see anything near here, Sobriquet said, scowling - and then looking up at Michael with a curious expression. If she traveled with you she thought you were an ally. Did you join with her and betray her? Didnt you counsel me that she was a fearsome foe that would pursue me far past reasons dictates, and that crossing her was unwise to the point of insanity?

I doubt I was quite that theatrical, Michael said. But yes, shes likely none too happy with me right now.

Sobriquets eyes glinted in the dark. You could have just let her have me.

And you could have let Sever have me, Michael said. It seems were both having an irrational sort of day. He stood up from his perch, stretching his shoulder and wincing as it made a faint noise. Ghars bones, Im not meant for this. How are you feeling?

Well enough. Sobriquet shifted, and in the dim starlight Michael could not make out the contour of her eyes. Considering. I shouldnt be. Her hand came up to trace along her face absently, her fingers brushing her hair back.

I remember breaking, she said, her voice quavering and hoarse. I shattered. There was only black and pain and - then there was a voice. She cleared her throat and looked up at Michael. A voice reciting idiotic poetry.

Michael coughed. Ah. It helps to link the concepts together. When you say the first word with the rhyme in mind, youre already thinking of the second- He paused. Im not sure why I have to explain this to you, it saved your life.

Thanks for that, she said, rising unsteadily to her feet. Her hand gripped onto the tree, and a shimmer of dizzying energy hung about her for a moment; it clung and shifted like a film of oil before separating into Sobriquets familiar avatar.

Ah, she said, working her neck from side to side before letting the apparition fade away into the darkness. Thats better. Hard to get my bearings without- She frowned. Why did you take us so far north?

I didnt precisely have a direction in mind, Michael said. I didnt even know I was heading north.

Sobriquet snorted. You stand informed, she said. And as a result, Clair and the others are south of us. A bit east. There was a long pause; Michael could barely make out the soundless movement of her lips. He presumed she was speaking to Clair. After a while Sobriquet shook her head and looked into the distance.

All right, she said. Weve got a location to rendezvous with the others. The better news is that Clair managed to link back up with Emil, so well have use of his cart for the journey north so long as we can get it past the front in one piece.

How likely do you think that is? Michael asked. I dont have a good grasp of the situation up north.

As opposed to your thorough grasp of the west, Sobriquet deadpanned. Its quieter. There hasnt been much active fighting along that front recently, although I suspect things are about to get volatile in the wake of Severs push towards Imes.

Great. Michael looked around the darkened woods, then sent his sight upward to gain a better vantage. So which way to the rendezvous?

She gestured into the forest. East by south. Theres a tavern weve used before, with sympathetic owners.

Tavern sounds nice, Michael grunted, looking down the path she had indicated. He turned to raise an eyebrow. Youre coming with? Youve been walking parallel until now, keeping your distance.

And look where that got me, Sobriquet said. No, Ive lost my grip on that secret already, and itll be hard enough getting across the front without splitting our group. She made a face. It was mostly for appearances, anyway. Mysterious leader without a face draws a lot more men to the cause than some tiny crippled girl.

Michael laughed, walking ahead of her into the woods. An effort of his will set the branches bending aside, clearing an easy path through the darkness. Its nice to put a face to the headache, personally, he said, kneeling down. All right, hop on. If I run we should make fairly good time.

Youre joking, Sobriquet scoffed. Absolutely not, well walk.

He turned and raised an eyebrow. I literally ran for hours carrying you, and in a much less comfortable position. Im a durens, as you took no small pleasure in pointing out. I dont get tired.

And I am Sobriquet, she said. Im used to making my own way to where Im needed. Were not so pressed for time that I have to leave basic dignity behind in the woods. She pushed past him and began to walk down the trail he had made. Besides, Im terribly sore from lying around all day. You just keep doing whatever this is and well have a lovely walk.

Michael shrugged and stood, following after her. As you will, he said. Let me know if you need to rest.

Ive rested enough. I could eat, if you have any food. She cast a hopeful look over her shoulder.

Sorry, he said. My gear was on my horse, and I didnt think to grab any of yours.

She laughed and turned back forward. Useless, she said. I suppose well have to step lively to the tavern. They do a rather good stew. She set off through the woods with a practiced stride. Michael matched her course, his soul running ahead to draw their path through the midnight wood.