Shadow Dagger

Jon stood by the doorway to the abandoned house that concealed his real home and watched the sun slowly sink down below the horizon. He turned his attention to the streets and the homeless beggars that ambled aimlessly. Marcus usually walked by at sunset to see if Jon needed to talk to him, if his mind wasn't too far gone that day.

But Jon was in luck; Marcus came shuffling down the street as the stars began twinkling in the night sky. Marcus looked up and saw Jon watching. He hurried his pace and was soon at the doorway. Jon walked inside and heard Marcus following.

As soon as Marcus stepped inside, his eyes darted toward the spot in the room where his payment was hidden. Jon felt a pang of guilt at the look of hunger on Marcus' face. He cleared his throat. "How are you doing Marcus?"

"Not good, Jon," Marcus replied, his eyes pinched in pain.

Jon blinked in surprise. Marcus sounded...normal. Jon felt another pang of guilt at the excitement that flooded his veins. Days when Marcus was lucid were very rare. He had a good chance at getting some straight answers today.

But why is he is in so much pain? I gave him enough to last a month.

"I can see that," Jon replied carefully.

Marcus sighed and shuffled to a window. He wiped grime off the window with his ragged coat sleeve and stared wistfully at the descending night. "I need more this time."

Jon waited several moments before responding slowly. "But I gave you a month's worth only a few days ago..."

Marcus turned and looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot and he had heavy bags under his eyes. Not for the first time, Jon lamented the fact that Marcus continuously refused Jon's offer to stay with him. He never could explain exactly why he chose to live as a beggar. He would just mumble something about having no choice.

"I don't know if I am building a resistance to it or my dreams are becoming resistant," Marcus said. "Either way, I need more."

Jon hesitated. "Marcus...I don't think I can do that."

"Damn you, Jon! Just give me what I ask for!" Marcus suddenly shouted. His eyes bulged out of his head and spit flew from his mouth. He looked deranged.

Marcus wilted as suddenly as he had exploded. Jon slowly took his hand off his Shadow Dagger. Marcus covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"It's ok. I understand how the dreams—"

"No, you don't," Marcus cut in, lifting his face from his hands and giving Jon a firm look. "The dreams have become overwhelming. You have no idea what it's like for me. I don't just see the possible futures, Jon, I

live

them. I feel and experience the destruction and the pain of every soul as the world dies."

Jon stared in horror. "Marcus, I had no—"

"And in the middle of all that pain and sorrow, I'm supposed to observe the branching of choices so I know how to guide them? Madness!" He turned and punched the wall. Brick cracked all the way up to the ceiling.

Jon didn't say anything. He knew Marcus needed to get this off his chest. He had been carrying this burden for over two thousand years. Marcus leaned his head against the wall. "I'm so tired. How much longer must I endure this?"

"You said yourself that the time has come, didn't you? This is the ending time?"

Marcus shook his head, confused. "Is it? I rarely recall what I say when I am in the drug's haze."

"You said that the woman I brought here, Evelyn, was the key. That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Marcus eyed him warily. "You know I can't say too much, Jon. That was the promise I made when I agreed to become the God's oracle. Can you believe that I used to think that was the greatest day of my life? Now I curse Him bitterly when I go to sleep at night."

"You aren't the only one," Jon said quietly. He remembered too well the bitter promise he had made so many years ago.

Marcus sighed. "Melancholy has come over me this night; I must apologize. I knew the sacrifice I was making when I made that deal. And it worked, didn't it? I didn't become like all the others. The dreams...distracted me from all that."

"It was a bad deal, Marcus," Jon said bitterly.

"But I would make it again. I still feel special that the God chose me." He laughed quietly. "I

must

be mad! But my choice guided us through the War of Gods and brought us here, where hope yet lives. What's two thousand or so years of nightly torment compared to that?"

"How have you preserved your mind for so long?" The pain that Marcus was revealing to him was branding new scars on his soul.

"I could ask the same of you. You are bitter and have lost faith. That's what you think, isn't it?"

Jon spat on the ground. "I

have

lost faith, Marcus. I'm just an assassin now, nothing more. My purpose, my mission, is just dust in the wind."

"And yet here you are, trying to solve the puzzle in order to save the world. You say you are just an assassin but you still carry out your duty, no matter what your reasons are now. And you kept Berrick's sword."

Jon pointed his finger at Marcus. "Don't! You understand me? Don't go there."

But Marcus was relentless. "Why did you keep the sword? That's the question that has been haunting your dreams of late, isn't it?"

Jon paled. "How...?"

Marcus laughed, sounding as mad as he usually did. "I am the oracle! But I can't see your answer. Your pain clouds it. So why did you keep it?"

"Enough! My nightmares are my own, you understand? And I don't owe you or anybody an explanation!" That pain was still too deadly to give it voice.

Marcus raised his hands. "Ok, ok, I won't push you on it." He winced suddenly and clasped his hands. "Jon, please, let's finish this so you can give me my payment."

Jon breathed deep and calmed his nerves. Marcus was always good at rattling him. "What is Evelyn in all this?"

Marcus sighed. "You already know the answer to that. If I tell you more, your choices will change and who knows what path you will create."

Jon felt his anger come roaring back. "Then what use is an oracle? What happened to free will, if we can't change our choices?"

"Nobody is stopping you, Jon. You have the freedom to choose however you want. I can only divine the path your choices create and give you the bare minimum of information to help steer you. Revealing too much information is just as bad as revealing none. You have no idea the fine line I walk."

Just like that, Jon felt his anger drain away. "I really hate Him, you know? But He chose wisely in you. I don't know if I have any faith left, but I have come this far and I mean to see it through. And that is my answer to your question of how I have kept sane for thousands of years."

"Stubbornness?" Marcus barked laughter. "I swear, only you could keep your sanity with so small a reason."

Jon shared a small smile with him. It did seem like a flimsy reason but it made sense to him. He didn't endure what he had to endure just to quit at the end. "And Sanje? What is his part in all of this? Why does he betray the Magi Victus?"

Marcus frowned and stayed silent for several minutes before responding. "Magi Victus...I always thought that was a strange name. In the language of creation it means 'killers of the faithful.' It's ironic, seeing how the Magi Victus were created

because

they were faithful. If only the Magi knew the truth of their history."

Jon waited patiently while Marcus rambled on. "Marcus? Sanje, remember?"

Marcus cleared his throat. "I was getting there. Don't judge Sanje by what you think you know. Remember the faithfulness of the name. You will know what I mean, when you find him."

Jon narrowed his eyes. "So we are to meet again?"

Marcus nodded. "And to answer the next question you are about to ask, I have little news to give you. The Council of Mages met with Reynar today to discuss the war. I do not yet know their plan. I will find out tonight."

"Thank you, Marcus, for everything."

Marcus smiled sadly. "You saved me and stood by me all those years ago. You had faith in me, when everyone else demanded my head. You never have to thank me for anything I do for you."

Jon felt his heart ease in his chest. It took him a while to recognize the feeling as love. "Are you sure I can't persuade you to stay here?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, I told you I can't. Now I have to go. The pain is making me see red. And I still need to find that information for you tonight."

Jon nodded and walked to the hiding spot in the rubble of the living room. He clicked the false switch and retrieved the familiar metal box. He opened the lid.

He said the pain is getting too intense. But what will extra doses do to him? Just another small sacrifice...right God?

Jon pulled out three small cloth bags and put the metal box back in the hiding spot.

"Marcus, I think three bags should-" Jon cut off when he turned around. Standing in front of the doorway, facing Marcus, was Evelyn.

She looked odd with her new haircut. It clung tight to her head and emphasized her facial features. The haircut, and the blonde hair, disguised her well. He watched, fascinated, as she took a hesitant step toward Marcus. Marcus looked very uncomfortable.

Jon shook his head. "I told them to watch her."

"Jon, give me my payment and I will be on my way," Marcus said, his voice shaking.

Jon looked at him curiously.

Why is she spooking him? Am I missing something?

"It's ok, Marcus. Her mind is gone. She must have wondered up the stairs. I forgot to shut the hidden door behind me. But come to think of it, I have never seen her walk on her own..." Jon added slowly.

Marcus nodded and swallowed nervously. Oddly, he never took his eyes off of Evelyn. Evelyn cocked her head and stared at Marcus. Jon was beginning to feel worried. Something strange was going on between these two.

Evelyn started walking slowly toward Marcus. Marcus clenched his teeth in fear but seemed rooted to the spot. Jon didn't know if he should interfere or not. He was very curious to see what was going to happen.

Evelyn stopped right in front of Marcus. Marcus' eyes were as round as they could go. His chest heaved as his breath quickened. Evelyn studied him as though she had never seen anything like him before.

Jon tensed and grabbed his Shadow Dagger as Evelyn moved her arm up. But she only laid her hand on Marcus' cheek. Marcus' eyes widened even more and then suddenly drooped shut. Jon was shocked to see tears form underneath his eyelids.

Marcus leaned his face into her hand. Tension left his body. Evelyn continued to look at him curiously as Marcus smiled into her hand.

"Jon, Evelyn has—"

Evelyn dropped her hand and Marcus jumped in fright as Sophina and Ashford came barreling out of the hidden door. They stopped suddenly and stared, shocked, at the strange scene before their eyes.

Jon turned his gaze on them. "I told you to keep an eye on her."

Sophina's eyes darted between Jon and Marcus. "I...I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Ashford held his tongue but Jon could see the intense curiosity in his eyes as he surveyed the scene. Jon nodded at Sophina. "It better not. Please take Evelyn back inside. I need to talk to Marcus alone."

Sophina nodded quickly and ran to Evelyn. She gently pulled her arm. "Come on, Evelyn, let's leave these two alone."

Evelyn gave no resistance but continued to stare at Marcus over her shoulder before she disappeared down the stairs. Marcus watched her go sadly.

"What in the nine hells was that about?" Jon asked harshly.

Marcus blinked and turned back toward him. His cheeks were wet with tears. "Confirmation," he said, wonder filling his eyes.

Jon growled.

Why are oracles always so damn cryptic?

"Confirmation of what?" he asked, knowing full well he wouldn't get a straight answer.

"Confirmation of my faith, Jon. She

is

the key. I can see it now. Do you know what this means? My sacrifice wasn't for nothing!" Marcus beamed, looking happier than Jon had ever seen him.

"What am I to do about her? You say she is the key but her mind is gone. How can she be the key?"

Marcus gave him a patient look. "You know her mind is still there. It's just...hiding. And you know what you must do to bring her back."

Jon stared at the hidden entrance where she had just disappeared. "Do I tell her...everything?"

Marcus sighed. "It's not my choice, Jon. I don't want to change your path by offering you my opinion. I can say this, though," Marcus added, seeing the scowl on Jon's face. "She will find out eventually."

Jon pushed the question to the back of his mind. In the end, he would act on instinct. He just wouldn't worry about it right now. He held out the bags toward Marcus. "Here's your payment."

Marcus stared at the bags for several moments. Finally, he walked over and, to Jon's surprise, only picked up one bag. Seeing the look on Jon's face, he said, "The confirmation I received earlier...has lifted a burden from my shoulders that I didn't know even existed. I was being to lose faith, Jon. That's why my dreams have worsened lately. It takes faith to endure the agony of the dreams."

Jon let out a sigh of relief. "You sure you need just one bag?"

Marcus smiled. "Yes, just to take the usual edge off the dreams. My faith has been restored. I feel...renewed."

"Will you be crazy still when I see you again?"

"Oh, without a doubt," he replied cheerfully. They enjoyed a long laugh over that.

***

Raynolt tossed the paper back on the table and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.

What time is it?

He couldn't be sure how long he had been inside the archives today. He knew he was neglecting his duties but the search for the spy consumed him.

As far as he could tell, his long hours of searching through the files kept on every Magi were a waste of time. Every interesting note of a Magi's background fueled his suspicion. In the end, he focused primarily on what King Reynar knew.

That line of thinking led him to conclude that the traitor was privileged to the most intimate details of his plot. He had several people working for him; however, most of them knew only the basic parts of his plan. Only his inner circle knew the precise details. That left only three likely suspects.

He shuffled his papers and laid out the files on two of his three suspects. He mouthed their names under his breath: Lenard Demps and Morgana Rosewood. The other suspect was Sanje.

He was almost sure of Sanje's loyalty for two reasons. The first was because of the history they shared; a history only the two of them knew. The second was because Reynar wanted the Magi Victus wiped out. Sanje wanted to freedom for his men, not personal power.

He pushed Sanje to the back of his mind and focused on the two files in front of him. He knew every word that was written into Lenard and Morgana's file.

Lenard came to the Emporium as a full grown adult. This was rare but not unheard of. Some Magi parents lived out in the smaller provinces. They acted as local Magistrates, with the full backing of the Emporium. Since they were so far from the capital city, they tended to keep their children with them and taught them the basics of magic. Eventually, in order to receive a complete education, the child must eventually come to the Emporium.

Lenard spoke seldom of his parents and birthplace. His parentage was verified before he gained entrance into the Emporium. Raynolt had to admit that his mysterious past offered plenty of opportunity to be recruited by Reynar. Still, he wasn't sure Lenard was the traitor. He knew his darkest secret; that kind of knowledge tends to come with absolute loyalty, lest it find voice.

Raynolt shifted his attention to Morgana's file. Hers was more mundane. She had been given to the Emporium to be raised when she was a child. She was the daughter of unremarkable Magi parents. Her father only made it to the 4th Tier before getting killed by bandits on a diplomatic mission. Her mother barely made the 5th Tier before succumbing to old age.

Morgana herself showed very little promise, outside her expertise in healing. She was completely unremarkable in all other ways; the perfect type of spy. Raynolt tapped his finger on his lips as he thought it over. Morgana sometimes struck him as someone who only wanted to ride the coattails of more powerful people. Undoubtedly the reason she bedded him, he knew. But that could also be part of her mission.

Raynolt rubbed his eyes again. He had been going back and forth between his three suspects for several hours now.

"You have been hard to find," a voice whispered behind him.

Raynolt almost tumbled out of his chair. He regained his balance and jumped to his feet, the magic pouring through his veins. Sanje smirked at him from the shadows of a nearby bookshelf.

Raynolt looked around the deserted archives before hissing, "What in the nine hells are you doing here? And how the hell did you penetrate the wards to get all the way down here?"

"Do you still doubt my skills?" Sanje teased.

Raynolt picked up his chair and slammed it back in its place. "You take unnecessary risks, Magi Victus."

Raynolt was pleased to see the smirk vanish from his face from beneath the darkened hood. "Unnecessary? No, it was completely necessary. We are marching to war and you haven't even bothered to contact me about our plans! I had to find out from Lenard that you have been spending all your time down here. He was in charge of the wards tonight; that's how I made it down here."

"Why are you talking to him?" Raynolt asked suspiciously.

For the first time, he considered the possibility of multiple spies. It made sense; if one spy was captured, there would be another to continue their efforts. And Raynolt would probably stop looking.

"We are all in this together, aren't we? Or have your plans changed? Lenard seems worried about you. Evidently, you have been neglecting your new duties and he doesn't know why. I find that very odd. After all, you finally have what you always wanted."

Raynolt turned his back and shuffled his papers together.

Can I trust him? I need to trust somebody. I can't carry out my plans alone? I have to gamble, one way or another.

"No, my plans haven't changed," Raynolt said quietly.

Sanje walked up next to him. "Then what has gotten into you? Why haven't you contacted me to begin preparations for the war? I still don't now what was decided in that earlier meeting today. When does the war begin?"

"We haven't finalized any plans yet," Raynolt said carefully. He didn't want to say too much just yet. He needed time to make his choice.

"You're hiding something from me. I can see it in your face. I hope you aren't thinking about double-crossing me." Sanje slid his hand down to his dagger.

Raynolt pretended he didn't see the threatening move. It was time to test fate. "Reynar wants to begin the war during the Summer Festival. There is to be a ceremony to officially appoint me as the new Grand Master. It will be the perfect bait to lure your men out."

Raynolt could practically hear Sanje's mind whirling with this new information. He was silent for several minutes. Raynolt gave him time to think and sat down at the table. "Why has Reynar decided when to start the war? I thought he was on your leash," he finally said.

Raynolt took a breath to steady his nerves. He was about to make the biggest gamble in his life. "As it turns out, Reynar is far more powerful than anybody knows. He could kill me as easily as swatting a fly. I am more valuable to him alive, however; for now, at least."

Raynolt couldn't be sure but he thought he saw a flash of shock cross Sanje's face. But his hood was pulled low; he could very well have imagined it. Regardless, he felt the tension leave his shoulders. He was almost positive now that Sanje wasn't a spy.