The Parallels

The plan is simple: reunite with the remaining Primary blood ties, show them my magic, gain their allegiance, and destroy an ancient mage whose power predated anything we’d ever known - simple.

The first destination is Lucent Bay, an old seaport made famous for its eclectic markets and colorful crowds. After the Breaking, it was hidden under the protection of a veil and has existed in secret ever since. We arrive at the outskirts of the town and land on a cliff top overlooking an endless expanse of turquoise water. I’d never seen the ocean but had heard stories about its beauty. Looking out over the placid waters made me think of Laurel and the times we’d dreamed of exploring Lanel together. I send her my light where ever she may be in the Mire.

Arthin hands us simple clothing so that we may blend in: hooded, brown tunics with blue pants that taper at the ankle. Finally, she gives us a pin bearing a blue gemstone encircled by a gold braid.

“This is the symbol of the Faren Primary and was given to me by Lucent, the eldest male of the Faren Primary who made his home here in Lanel after the Unification Decree was signed. He said that all those bearing this symbol would find friends in Lucent Bay.” She fastens her pin to her breast.

“How will we find him?” I ask, securing my pin to my shirt.

Arthin smiles. “Don’t worry, he’ll find us.” She winks and begins walking toward the small village bordering the ocean.

While several blood ties to the Primaries perished the very same night as Arthin’s kin, some were able to escape and went into hiding. As we approach the town, I lift my scarf to conceal my face as Arthin advised and am happy to do so as the wind shifts, and I gag from the smell. Fish—the tiny village is ripe with the stench of it.

We enter through a small walkway that leads to a sizeable decrepit street that’s lined with vendors peddling fly-ridden baskets of dead minnows and fuzzy, acrid fruit. Arthin walks briskly with her head down and eyes to the ground. Since Darius mimics her posture, I decide to do the same, only lifting my eyes now and again to peer at the vendors.

Most folk shuffle along the street, ignoring the peddlers, but walk in such a way that tells me they have nowhere to be. The air of hopelessness hangs heavy over this place. After the third or fourth stall, the road gives way to a large, circular plaza. Arthin abruptly stops, and I nearly collide with her back. I step to her side and remove the cloth from my nose and mouth. Instead of fish, the air smells of saltwater and ocean wind, but surprisingly, the courtyard is vacant.

“Where are we going?” I ask, peering around the mostly empty plaza. Darius’s eyes never stop surveying the crowd beneath his thick lashes.

“Years ago, there was a particularly well-known bar with a few rooms above it.” Those that are in the plaza circle around its center. Arthin stares ahead, unaware of the glances cast our way. “The Faren Primary loved this shop, and soon it became the most centralized place for news as traders made it their home while on land.”

She gestures ahead to the center of the plaza, which is mostly empty save for a few chairs occupied by a half dozen or so townspeople. I’d have overlooked the courtyard entirely if it weren’t for what was under the chairs. Ocean waves lazily lap against the feet of the chairs but never touch them because the entire courtyard floor is made of glass. I gingerly tap my foot on its surface having never seen anything like it. I look to Darius who intently focuses on the people sitting before us, never once glancing at the ocean beneath them. Come to think of it nothing has stirred his attention since we arrived.

I feel Arthin watching me. “Don’t worry. Lucent had this built by the Garnathians.”

“Who?” I ask, trying not to step too heavily as she pulls us forward.

Arthin gracefully walks in between the seated people, and we follow along, weaving in between the tables.

“The Garnathians were master architects and builders. They were sanctioned by all four Primaries to create an iconic symbol for their world, that represented the spirit of the people. When some of the Faren Primary relocated to Lanel, they wanted a symbol of their own Parallel to remind them of home.” She taps on the glass with her shoe. “This was crafted almost two hundred years ago, made with the strongest architectural magic in the history of Lanel.” Darius positions himself ahead of us, his hands idling atop his daggers.

A thick gray haze casts elongated shadows across each of the courtyard’s inhabitants, who seem to be sleeping. I glance toward the outside of the patio and notice that everyone walks around the edge of the plaza instead of cutting through it as we are doing. It’s as if they go out of their way to avoid it entirely. We’re nearly at the center when I turn my attention to a small shack that’s suddenly appeared in the near distance. It looks even more dilapidated than the town’s ramshackle houses and shops. Surely this can’t be the place Arthin remembers—it seems as if no one has visited it in years.

I squeeze Arthin’s arm. “Arthin, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this place looks abandoned.” Despite my hesitation, she still proceeds forward.

“After the Purists attacked, they made sure to leave their mark. This was once the heart of Lucent Bay, filled with laughter, music, and happiness. Blackthorne wanted to remind them of his power and break them, as he did the rest of Lanel.” She’s cut off by the sound of a chair toppling over.

I look to where the sound comes from where a man lies on the ground in a growing pool of blood. I run to him. His eyes are open, but they look blank as if nothing stirs behind them. I press my fingers to his neck and sigh in relief at the faint pulse that pounds against my fingertips.

“You can’t help him or any of them,” Arthin rests a hand against my back. “They had a choice; they knew the danger of coming here without protection.” She taps her fingers against her temple, reminding me of what Miriam said about shields protecting the mind. “Sometimes the world becomes too much for those to bear.” She helps me up. “Better to stay in a dream than to suffer in reality.”

I shake the man, but he remains unresponsive. “I don’t understand, why isn’t he waking up?”

Darius surveys us from afar. He hasn’t moved from his vantage point at the center of the courtyard.

“You can’t see this place as some see it because of your impenetrable shield.” Arthin steps over the man. “Blackthorne made sure he left his mark by letting this place appear as it did when Lucent Bay flourished.” She stares out onto the dozen or so people who remain slumped in their chairs.

“But the people knew better, everything he created was an illusion. This place became a trap. Those that longed for the old days

and a piece of happiness fell into its trap, and it’s where they remain. The illusion becomes stronger the longer they’re in it.” She brushes back the hair from an older woman’s face. “They never stop seeing this place as it once was, not as it is now.” Blackthorne had created something of a dreamweave right here in the middle of a town.

“Why don’t people just come in and take them out of here?” I ask as I look around. “There can’t be more than twenty people in here.”

“The mind is a fragile thing, Jules. Removing someone from the trap even after a few moments would either drive them mad or kill them. Townsfolk grew up knowing about the courtyard from their parents, who learned it from their parents and so on.” She motions for us to follow as she continues walking toward the crumbling building. “Eventually everyone came to know what the outcome would be should they venture into the courtyard. The town wanted to give people a choice, let them exercise free will. Leaving the courtyard intact was part of that. Blackthorne may have cursed this place, but leaving their home intact is a way for them to say that he didn’t break them completely, and never will.”

I look up at the ramshackle building. “If everyone is like this here,” I gesture to the courtyard, “then what makes you think anyone in there will be any different?′

“Because,” Arthin smiles and her eyes light up, “magic always finds a way.” She leads us up the steps and opens the door.

“Magic always finds a way,” I mutter in disbelief as she opens the door.

Laughter is the first sound to greet us. It comes from a table of six people dressed in deep violet robes and huddled over frothy pints. They take no notice of our entrance; their heads ducked low to their drinks in deep conversation.

Massive beams, which look to be made from ships, flank the bar on all sides, creating a rather cozy alcove. Despite the early hour, nearly every table is full of laborers or fisherman. Their voices barrel over each other, filling the space with a rowdy, exciting sound. Arthin whispers to Darius, who remains at the door, before she links arms with me and pulls us to an empty table near a window.

“How does this place exist?” I unfasten the clasps of my coat and am about to do the same with my hood when Arthin stops me with a quick shake of her head.

“Best not draw attention to ourselves,” she says, looking at the tendrils of red hair that have fallen loose from underneath my hood. “There are friendly faces enough here, but folks are still cautious of outsiders.” I pull my hood a little tighter and shove the loose pieces back underneath. We take a seat at a freshly polished wooden table. Even though the tavern rests in the center of the courtyard, there’s nothing but ocean waves outside the window. More magic to veil the reality of what lies beyond these walls. Arthin’s voice falls to a whisper. “After he poisoned the plaza, a few elders created this tavern to serve as a meeting ground for those,” she pauses, searching for the word, “who were like-minded.”

I don’t miss the fact that she’s drawn up her hair, allowing her pin to be visible for anyone passing by, though it doesn’t seem to faze the barmaid who hastily wipes our table.

“What’ll have?” The barmaid quickly removes a leather pad from her waistband and finally looks up at Arthin. Her eyes flash to Arthin’s pin and then she looks at me. Her gaze rests awhile longer, falling to my eyes first, and then to my chest, where my pin sits.

Her voice drops as she says, “be right back.”

She quickly turns and exits through the swinging door behind the bar. Before I can ask about the barmaid’s bizarre behavior, two figures emerge from the doorway she’s just hurried through. The first is a sharp-looking woman with pale blonde hair that’s securely fastened in a twisted crown atop her head. Her navy dress flows like water with each step she takes. She’s taller than her male counterpart, who looks nonetheless commanding despite his shorter stature. He is also clad in navy and brandishes a sword on his hip. Despite their composed appearance and lethal movements, what makes them stand out is their eyes. They are completely black, as if they stared into the depths of the ocean and it stared right back.

They stop at our table, and for a moment I hear the room quiet before it bursts back into the same roar of conversation. Despite my best efforts, I feel my body recoil into the wooden seat. When the pair reaches our table, they merely stand in silence, surveying us.

“We’re here to meet with Lucent,” Arthin says, seemingly unaffected by their predatory presence.

Although Arthin speaks, the woman does not take her eyes from me. I find myself increasingly annoyed at her overconfidence, and instead of averting my agze, I stare right back into the endless depths of hers.

“And who is asking for him might I ask?” The man’s tone is clipped.

Arthin sits up a little higher before saying, “Tell him: Scath a cheile a m’hirenn na Faren.”

The woman’s head snaps to Arthin, and I swear her eyes change color. The man touches her arm gently and takes a step back. Seeing that his counterpart remains unmoving, he forcefully grabs her arm and pulls her backward. Reluctantly, she turns on her heel and marches back through the swinging door.

“What exactly did you just say to them?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes away from the direction they went.

“Something to remind them of a time when the Faren Primary stood strong in Lanel.”

“What’s with their eyes?” I ask.

“Here in Lucent Bay, a soldier’s training culminated with a journey into the ocean’s abyss. Only those truly strong enough to serve would emerge from its underworld.” She taps her fingers on the table impatiently. “It means they passed the test and were marked by its magic,” she pauses, then adds, “in more ways than one.”

“I guess now’s a good time to mention—I can’t swim.”

She smiles coyly. “Believe me, if things go awry, they won’t even give you a chance.”

The barmaid returns carrying two cups of steaming mulled wine. I’m thankful for the distraction and take a long drink.

“And what happens if you’re not a soldier and say whatever it is that you said to them?” I ask, noting the saltiness of the wine.

“Then the magic it’s laced with cuts out your tongue,” Arthin says plainly. Around us, the same camaraderie continues, but I notice a few people heeding our presence.

Suddenly, Arthin laughs and smiles widely. “Darius wants to know if he can come in. One of the voyagers has taken a keen interest in him.” She chuckles.

I look around the tavern and don’t see him. “How do you know?” She discreetly taps on her temples in response. The shield of course, yet another reminder of my broken mind. “And you can bet everyone else in here is doing the same thing,” she says.

The tavern door opens, and Darius walks in with a ragged brunette, who by her hardened leather skin and freckled face, is the pursuant sea voyager. He plops down in the empty seat next to me, throws his arms around my waist, and kisses me fiercely.

The noise from the bar flickers out like a candle and the magical markings on my body sing with steady vibrations. Goosebumps rise on my arms, and there’s electricity in the air. When Darius pulls away, his eyes shine—he felt it too. He raises his eyebrows as if asking me what just happened, but a frustrated cry sounds from behind us. He quickly releases me, looks up at his pursuer, and shrugs. She stalks away, and I try not to notice Arthin’s quizzical stare as I pull my hood back into place.

“Bout time,” Darius says, taking Arthin’s untouched mug of wine. “I don’t know how much longer I could remain polite.” He gulps down its contents without so much as taking a glance at either of us.

Thankfully, the black-eyed sea monsters, as I’ve come to think of them, return to our table before Darius notices the color that’s risen to my face. They stop at our table, eyeing the new addition to our party.

“He’s with you?” The woman asks.

Darius tips his mug in her direction and wine sloshes over its side. I wonder how many pints he’d already had outside.

Arthin rises. “Ay, our comrade was tending to some personal matters before joining us,” she says disdainfully.

“Very well.” The man squares his shoulders. “Please come with us, Lucent awaits.”

I slide out of the booth after Darius, who stumbles and falls into me. I try to push him away, but he grabs hold of my arm and pulls me close to him.

“Take hold of me should things go wrong,” he whispers, shoving something into my pocket. And just like that, he stands erect and falls into step by Arthin’s side. His inebriated display was all for show; he doesn’t trust this place. I discreetly place my hand in my pocket where the transference stone now lies.

We’re led down a long hallway with a single door at its end. The woman motions for us to stop just as her companion opens the door. I can’t help but gasp and slide closer to Darius. A wall of water fills the doorway but does not come crashing down. With a slight twist of his hand, the man cuts a pathway through the water. He walks toward yet another door at the end of the water-encased hallway. I steady my breaths and focus on the doorway, attempting to push away the thoughts of drowning as I stay near Darius and walk through water.

Fortunately, the final door opens into a circular room with no more magical water on the other side. The place boasts the same glass as the courtyard floor, where large fish swim between towering reeds just outside. A simple driftwood table that’s large enough to seat twenty sits at the center of the room. The door behind us slams shut, and a rush of water follows. We’re trapped. The thought is not lost on Darius, who braces himself as though the glass could give way at any moment. And for all I know, with another flick of their wrist, it could. I take courage when I look at Arthin, who seems oddly peaceful. She’s wandered away from us and stands near the glass, staring out into the depths of the abyss.

“Garnathian steel.” The woman’s voice catches my attention. She stands in front of the door we just passed through, as if it needs to be guarded. Even if we wanted to leave, the thousands of gallons of water on the other side would never let us.

Despite my growing sense of confinement, I manage to say, “this place is breathtaking.”

She smiles but seems to think better of it and resumes scowling. My attention is drawn away from her as a man enters the room from a door across the way I had not noticed before. He emits confidence and authority as he strides up to Arthin, offering his upward-facing hand to her.

“Magistrate, how nice to finally meet you.” Arthin places her palm atop his in a sign of goodwill and friendship. “Lucent spoke of you often.”

“Please have a seat.” He gestures to the table.

Arthin does not move, nor does she appear pleased with our host’s hospitality. “Where is Lucent?”

Darius shifts closer to me and I place my hand inside my pocket, ready to conjure images of Stirlarst if need be. A somber silence, as heavy as the water around us, blankets the room.

“He was lost to us almost fifty years ago,” the magistrate says solemnly.

“And his children?” Arthin asks without missing a beat.

The magistrate clears his throat. “I’m afraid we lost them as well.”

Silence settles between them, but out of the corner of my eye, I notice Darius’s hand slide to his wrist, where a dagger is likely concealed.

“May they travel to distant shores and there find the ocean’s embrace.” Arthin presses her hand over her heart. Darius and I do the same.

The magistrate mirrors our movements. “Please, allow me to introduce myself properly. I’m Garren, Commander of the Lucent Bay and overseer of its people. These are Rhenei and Maira, first lieutenants of our army.” He gestures to the man and woman, who bow deeply. Garren motions to Rhenei who steps forward and places a silver, circular container onto the table.

He looks up from it and addresses Arthin. “Of course, Lucent did mention you on several occasions. He instructed us to give you this,” he gestures to the container, “upon your next visit. Of course, we did not foresee just how long that would be.” My hand tightens around the stone at the venom in his voice.

The magistrate does not move as Arthin brushes by him. She opens the lid. I look past her hands to see what’s inside and if I expected anything, it wasn’t a giant, tan shell. It must mean something to Arthin because she laughs to herself.

“He always was humorous,” she says, picking up the shell. Surprisingly, Garren takes a few steps back, never taking his eyes from the shell. Arthin doesn’t seem to notice as she turns it over in her hands. “When we were young, younger than even you,” she nods to me, “we collected shells along the beach. He said that if I ever missed this place, I could always hear the ocean if I just put my ear to a shell.” She lifts it to her ear and closes her eyes.

I can feel the tension in every person in the room. We stand and watch for minutes before I notice Darius’s hand relax and drop to his side. We’re safe, that much Arthin’s communicated to him through his shield. Arthin’s eyes brim with tears when she turns around.

She stares past me. “You have your father’s smile,” she says solemnly. I quickly turn and look at Maira.

“Arthin,” she breathes, “at last.”