Redemption - Prologue + Chapter 1

This is super long, but thank you for reading. Please rip it to shreds, I'm not looking for praise. If you critique, I'll return the favor.

My dearest Sophie,

The world is shrinking. It’s growing smaller and smaller with each passing season, and I’m losing my place in it. Then again, did I ever belong here? People like me, we just don’t fit in. After all, we’re responsible for the Great Wars, back during the Shadow Ages. Responsible for all the death, all the destruction, all the pain.

But it’s different than it used to be. Nowadays, you’ve got your silver revolvers and your iron horse, belching out clouds of smoke with each roar. Magic doesn’t belong here. The fairytales may be real, and there may be creatures out there, far too strange to even be imagined, but the realm of dreams is being hidden by science. The cold, hard facts. The reason.

This just isn’t a place I can live in anymore. But it will be a decent place to die, I suppose. It has to happen. I’ll try to tell you why, but you’ll think I’m delusional, think I’m crazy.

I only ask one thing of you. Let go of me when it’s time. When I’m finished with my tale, I’m going to die. I have to die. But you deserve to know the truth, what brought me to this.

Part One

Eleanor

Chapter One

Their voices scream inside my skull, echoing through my mind, groaning and begging. I fall to the ground, sucking in mouthfuls of dirt as I struggle to breathe. Their screeches hurt me. I can hear their pleas. My fingernails dig into my skull as they beg for freedom. There’s nothing I can do, except chant, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The empty words echo through the silence. They’re all begging me for an escape, but I can’t help them. I can only save one life this night, one small voice among this multitude. It’s one or nothing, and I’ve made my choice.

I can hear the speeding thoughts in my head. They’re growing louder - someone’s nearby. Feels like three people, and they’re probably soldiers. I hate being in their minds most of all. It chokes me to touch their minds; they look like walking corpses, but their thoughts rage with suffering. I want to free them so badly, but I have to let them endure this, even though their pain is bearing down on me. I’m the one who can save them. I’m the one who’s supposed to come parading in, but that’s not how this story will end. They’ll have to continue on, lost in the darkness, until death can finally release them. If I try to free all of them now, Frederic’s Watchers will catch me. I’ll be enslaved into his army, forced to bend my knees and bow to his rule.

I can feel these children, whimpering for their parents, but there will never be an answer to their calls. They’re soldiers now. And they’ll die as soldiers, under a spell of mind control. That’s what a soldier is. He is nothing.

I wipe away the tears from my cheeks and stagger to my feet. The voices have passed, and some of the pressure has lifted from my mind. They’re better off dead than living like this. And I wish I were dead, too. I can feel every heartbreak that they suffer. Others who travel here would see the unnatural calm, clinging to this place like the fog nearby, but I’m the one who leaps into the abyss and is devoured by their hurts.

My heart still bleeds with guilt. They are innocent children, ripped away from the arms of their parents so they could live here and die here in this diseased land. The place is scorched, burned by the greed of industry. Not long ago, it was a pretty place, where birds fluttered through the rustling willows. But that was before Frederic came. Before his malice seeped into the ground and poisoned the land. Frederic flaunts his technology, parading the aerorails and mechanical carriages in front of the other countries. He uses it to mock them. Display his superiority. It’s been nearly fifty years since he first arrived here and seized this place as his stronghold. It seems like an eternity to those humans.

The pain of his takeover still burns like a festering wound to me, and it’s getting worse. He’s strangling this place with what’s left of his magic. Like vines that overtake an oak sapling, he chokes this land. I can feel every thought of his, humming with the need for more power. But Magic is a strange and wild thing. Like a fierce beast, it cannot be beaten down into submission. Magic will not be tamed through hatred and fear. Magic has a will of its own too, and some parts of it can’t be altered, but he tries.

So now Frederic explores his technology, trying to find the power to strengthen his own magic, while keeping what he learns locked away from the people of Esrydil. Much as he desires Magic, he fears it. It is the chained demon of the fairytales. The monster. He must think he is the knight who can stop its coming, but he didn’t hear the rest of the story – you know how it goes, when that fool of a knight tries to slay the beast. Then the mighty beast breaks free of its shackles, and it changes things. Some for the better and some for the worse.

I can feel the rumble of change in my bones. Technology will change this place, my darling. The world will be different, because he can’t keep science away from them for long. Those last dark edges of the map will be filled in, and Here Won’t Be Dragons. Some things are going to slip past him. I don’t suppose you’ve gotten to read much lately, the way you’ve been, but it’s like an old philosopher wrote. “And they shall struggle onwards, gripping for a foothold, and they shall crawl up the mountain of Progress.” He worded it in a lovely way, but the idea holds true. Humans are too curious to be enslaved to us and our magic for long, and you will live in a new age.

And that is not a bad thing, either. It could mean a lot of good for Esrydil. It could mean that people depend on themselves for things. Then we wouldn’t have to be in this place, we could get out and let the world work on its own, like it did before the Shadow Wars, before the first mages gained their powers by anchoring magic to words and forcing it to attach to magicians.

Some of them still try and fight Frederic’s shackles, you know. Just a few days ago, I was in the city of Seraine. I saw a man there who made a new gun. He called it a semi-automatic rifle. Said it would change battles and the military because it shoots faster. Can end more lives; make the death tolls pile up even higher.

Of course, you know what happened to the old fool. Even though the truth never slipped from his mouth. He thought that the other inventors who had fallen to Frederic had boasted of their creations. But the Watchers found him. They leeched onto him and stole him away in the night, so no one could find a trace of him the next morning. Hell, some couldn’t even remember that he existed. That’s what happens to most of them who come up with new ideas. They’ll show up dead, some time or other, unless Frederic actually uses their designs.

It’s a good method. Scares most people out of their wits. They don’t dare to go discovering and inquiring beyond what we’ve already got. Forces them to perfect what we have, and not go changing around the status quo, trying new ideas.

Means they’re dependent on us. We’re the driving wheels that spin the machine, that pump the steam through and make it work all right. It’s an orderly little plan that reflects the times when humans were deemed inferior to mages. Frederic may like it, but not me. I’ll stop it; I’ll break the chains holding in humanity. They’re scared to ask or invent or even think. Acting like that is contrary to the nature of people. Back in Averford, they have some courageous old fools who rebel against the rules. They’ve even created themselves a new form of government. They call it a democracy. People-ruled. It isn’t all based on tyranny, like this place.

I presume that you’re wondering why I’m here. It’s one of the advantages to my kind. I can waltz through space and land, go wherever I want. Doesn’t quite work like that, of course. It’s a little more uncomfortable and a little more precise.

So, I just slipped into Ghannor. I’m here to free my daughter. She’s one of those things tangled up in this place. The bastard ripped her away from me, and Frederic doesn’t just let people out of this land whenever they please. He’s got wards and ancient magic, so her mind’s trapped, like the fly caught in a spider’s woven web. There’s no easy way out of such a thing, but I refuse to let her remain like that, struggling on in the darkness. I’m here to take her back. She’s mine, and I won’t let Frederic keep her locked up in some faraway tower.

He’s done the same ever since he rose to power. He works by fear. Takes a couple kids, locks them up, makes them fight in the army. It’s brilliant. Just snatches whatever fighters he needs, and then weaves them in with his mind control. Doesn’t even have to care about the people fighting for him. They’re nothing more than numbers. He can sacrifice them in battles that squander away their lives, and he doesn’t even have to worry, since he can just hop on over to the next town and throw those damn kids in the army. I wonder what he says to them. Congratulations, you’re now a soldier? Welcome to the army where you don’t even have to care what you’re fighting for?

As I struggle forward, I curse the Gods above. What kind of cruel Gods give a person such power? It mocks me. Hearing this torture for decades has all but turned me insane, driven by demons. Mind-reading was meant to be a gift, but it kills those of us who bear it. We’re not the saviors we were meant to be.

I surrender myself to the rush of voices. They rage into my head, like waves of pain, and it’s a blessing for me, not having to hold them back from my own thoughts. “No,” I whisper, trying to force myself away, before I become faceless in my misery, like they are. I have to concentrate. I have to ignore them before one of Frederic’s guards discover me. Terror leaks out of the buildings as I walk towards them. I try to push away the calls of those children. They’re a distraction. “Focus, focus.” The words tumble over my lips.

Branches crack nearby. My head whips in that direction, and I slide my knife out of its holster. If anyone sees me, they’re dead. I creep over to the side of one of the barracks and press myself to its wall. Watching, waiting, but the darkness reveals nothing, and I convince myself that my mind’s playing tricks on me. Not hard to believe when I’ve got voices calling in my head all the time.

I pass by the barracks, keeping one hand pressed against the cement walls. There are thousands of children here, and other camps like this dot Frederic’s marshy land. Camp is not quite the correct word for it, though. They’re more than that. Prisons, and the inmates are being trained for war. He takes any captives he can. The women and children might not be as strong, but facing them will paralyze his enemies. It’s psychological warfare. They’ll have to slaughter innocents. The blood of more than just men will soak their uniforms.

A familiar voice rings out over the others, and I want to scream an answer to it. My Sophie, my daughter. I dart into the building and dash my way through all the overlapping minds, trying to identify her, but I can’t. I can’t separate my daughter from the chaos.

There’s the soft hubbub of guards talking to each other outside, their words drifting to my ears. My heart freezes. I can’t resort to my powers with them so close. They could be Watchers sent directly by Frederic. It’s too great a risk. I crouch to the ground and crawl toward the nearest bed, peeking up at the slumbering face. It’s a girl, but not Sophie. Her pale face looks peaceful in the darkness. I want to reach out. Stroke her cheek. Whisper that she’ll be all right. But I can’t. Must leave her. Keep moving.

The pressing taste of my daughter’s mind is growing stronger. As I hear the guards march off, I peer down at the face of the next little soldier. It’s her. “Sophie,” I gasp, reaching out my arms and wrapping them around her still body. I’m going against everything I was told. I’m supposed to break the bonds and run. But how can you be prepared to set free your daughter? I need this moment, where I can touch her and breath in her scent. She still smells of daisies and springtime, just as I remembered.

I lean over her, letting the years sweep me away and wash me back to our sunny homeland, before Frederic had whisked her away to this place of horrors. I cannot just get to the job; I have to bask in this moment. So many years have ambled by without seeing her. Each year has dragged on past me.

She begins to stir, and I whisper a sharp curse. My fingertips graze across her cheeks and stop at her temples, and I peer down at the girl’s eyelids. I close my eyes and begin focusing on Sophie’s mind, trying to find a way in. I have to break it in without catching Frederic’s attention.

My daughter tows me into her mind, pulling me into her thoughts like a swimmer being swallowed by the ocean’s current. And then I feel the pain closing in around my neck. My eyes flash open and Sophie is sitting up, clenching my throat with her icy hands. Hatred pierces her blank stare. “Sophie,” I plead. “It’s me. Let go.”

I already know that my words wouldn’t reach her, but I want them to. I want to be like the mother in the fairytales, whose bond with her daughter crosses all time and all distance. She’s not letting me go so I grab her mouth and shove her away from me. She tries to clamp down on my fingers, and her teeth dig into my knuckles. At least I know she can’t scream when she’s like this, but it’s humiliating, to see my daughter behave so. It’s my child, acting like a mad woman.

“Calm down,” I mutter, “calm down,” My hands slip back again to cup her face, and I force her eyes to meet my own. Her twisting and fighting slows, until she’s sitting still and staring back at me. “Now I’m going to set you free,” I whisper, but the words are for my sake.

Entering her mind is like walking into a palace, built with sweeping arches out of light and life, but I can feel the shadow looming. It’s hanging on every wall and threaded into every tapestry, but its origin is above. Higher. I twist open one of the doors and slip into a room with a spiraling staircase. There are doors, hundreds of doors, glowing with light, but I cannot stop to admire their intricate carvings. My feet flit over the pale steps, past the locked memories. If only there was time to open them all and free her thoughts. The mind isn’t supposed to be trapped this way. It’s not natural. It’s not right.

I can’t resist. I stop to open one of the doors, and a memory streaks by. It tumbles down the staircase in a whirlwind of color. I taste the days when Sophie’s glowing smile was beaming up at me, when we lived in the bustling western seaport of Diyhan, a place of beauty where towers of gray granite and alabaster marble spiraled high, grazing the clouds. I always clutched Sophie’s hand, squeezing it gently when she buried her head in the folds of my dress. We would stroll the grand marketplaces laid out in the bustling cobblestone streets, where merchants unloaded their wares from colorful caravans, shouting the prices to shoppers. Flowering vines threaded through archways that paved the path to the oceanfront.

There was peace in my homeland, until Frederic’s armies flooded through the town, slaying citizens and casting their cadavers into the dirt. Our weak defenses were caught unaware. Within the fury, I lost my child to the bastards, but I vowed to get her back.

“Stop,” I cry to myself. “I have to keep moving.” The darkness grows stronger as I sprint up the stairs, and I can feel his power, radiating like a beacon. My head is rings, all my senses alert until finally I pause at the Door. This one is different. As my tingling hand reaches out and twists the doorknob, no memory slips by me. It’s a dark room, an empty room, filled with a nest of cobwebs, and there’s a spider tiptoeing across its nets. When it sees me, it freezes for a second. Then, it launches into an attack against me, shooting out flecks of darkness like arrows. I dodge past them. I don’t have much time. The Vigilance has been triggered. I can feel the spinning cogs of its thoughts. The Watchers are more machine than man.

The threads of the spider’s web are like clanking chains, and rage pulses through me. These were the bonds that have dulled Sophie’s mind, and now she’s a simple servant of Ghannor who cannot escape. I throw myself against them, hacking at the cords. Other memories of hers flood past me, unfamiliar ones that do not belong. Frederic slamming his fist down in anger, his hand hitting against a map of Esrydil. Watchers gathered around Him, listening to His orders to find the final Endrian of Power, somewhere in Ithaldun. Darkness. Children being whipped as they continue practicing maneuvers…

I have to free her, and all my focus is directed on the spider web that entangles her; I ignore everything else. A Vigilance swoops in and freezes me, hitting me with a searing pain. It’s one of the Watchers, one of the Watchers that slithers through the minds it has ensnared, patrolling, watching out for dangers like me. I stab at it, and it dodges away, screeching with a piercing alarm. My eyes dash around, frantically searching for another escape, trying to sever my connection to Sophie’s mind, but the Watcher is already hurrying, crafting its web to stop me. I struggle against the bonds, twisting and wriggling, masking my own memories, trying to secure the barriers of my thoughts, setting up hasty walls to safeguard the most important secrets. Only a few seconds later, a dark presence seizes me. I balk at its grasp, trying to cling to Sophie, screaming her name, searching for something substantial to hang onto. “No,” I call out, “No!” I drag through her murky thoughts as the Watcher drags me away from the dream world. My hands are like claws, but I find no ledge to grip, so the Watcher takes me into the staircase, slamming the door to Sophie’s freedom. I clutch at the doorknob, still struggling, but it tugs on me. I have to release my grip and the Watcher pushes me down the long alabaster staircase, and I thump down the steps until I land in a heap at the bottom.

“Eleanor of the Soulseekers” the creature growls. “Long have we hunted you. You should know better than to invade the minds of Ghannor.” A laugh jumps into its voice, echoing through the darkness. “Did you really think that you could change fate? That you could win?”

Shadows pierce into my flesh, and I am ripped out of the trance, still screaming. Sophie’s dull eyes glare at me, and I push myself away from her, slipping onto the floor, before she can attack me. I failed. She’s nothing but a weapon now. My fingers crawl down to my stomach, where my flesh feels as if it has been burned with a blade. But as my hand searches across my side, I find no wound. My racing breath began to slow, and I close my eyes, sighing as I lie against the cool floor. None of the other children hear my screams, and I remain silent for a few minutes, waiting, but Sophie hasn’t been activated to attack me. “That was close,” I chide myself, speaking out loud, “too close.”

“You belong to Frederic now,” says a voice as it slashes through my thoughts. “Your powers are mine!” Pain surges into me as the creature rumbles through my head, shredding through my blocks, invading the most secretive of my thoughts. My hands tense, gripping and tugging at my hair, my nails digging into my skull. Long forgotten memories brush past my eyes, skittering away from the creature like water bugs skimming the surface of lakes, frantic and swift, but not fast enough to outrun the shadow.

“And what a cunning servant you shall be,” he says to me, and then there was solitude once more. I stagger to my feet, and see my Sophie lying there, already asleep. My heart is pounding. I want to reach out to her, touch her cheek, and promise that it will be all right in the end, but I can’t. She’d put the others in danger. I could steal her away with me, but her body would be nothing more than a cage. Her mind, her infectious humor, and everything about her that I love would still be trapped in Frederic’s shackles.

I walk through the camps, a listless shadow, scuffing my feet at the dirt, but no soldiers come out to seize me. I have to leave before they capture me, and I must return to my alliances in Seraine. There is only one path forward now that I can take, one way to free her. I must admit defeat and slink back to my friends until we can catch Frederic. But the consequences will linger in the shadows, haunting me until I finally must face them.

I have to calm myself. I close my fluttering eyes and gulp down a deep breath of air. “They saw me,” I say, “but that’s all. Get a grip, Eleanor, you’re stronger than this. No one can catch you.” Finding and capturing me would be difficult, more difficult than they can imagine. I can see their every move. Unless they bother with scanning my mind, they’ll never catch me.

I stop walking and slump against one of the buildings, letting the pain of losing Sophie sink through me. I want her back so badly. And I really believed that I had her.

I have to remind myself that this is a setback, not a failure. Magic will soon grant me another chance. Frederic outsmarted me here, but not this time.