Promises to the damned, p.6
Promises to the Damned, page 6
For twenty years Nasna had looked for her. She’d come close over six years ago, but Valerija disappeared. Then, six years of nothing. Now, nothing stood to hide Valerija from her. Nasna would kill her. Death would come soon.
The thought did not make her smile, though. Because there was still that small part of her, that weakness in her, that kept wanting to hold onto the person Nasna had once been. The part that still wanted Nasna to be the sister she had been, not the assassin she was.
Ignore that, her Path whispered in her heart. Walk the Path.
Obedient, Nasna pushed all thoughts of her weakness out of mind, though there was always a sliver of it she couldn’t dismiss.
The second level appeared busier than the third somehow, even though there didn’t seem to be as many people working. Everyone stood in a line, a long line. She glanced past them to the shafts on the opposite end. There were guards at each shaft who appeared to be searching every tatzon. The ordîns waited for the tatzon to remove their shirt before they inspected the full torso, not caring whether the tatzon was male or female, and sent the prisoner along.
She took in a quick breath. Not good. Would they have her remove her coverings? No, they couldn’t find her out. Not on the first day.
“What are they doing?” she asked Con-None. With the surrounding noise, he must not have heard since he kept walking, not even heeding the long line which continued to build. She kept close to him, noting again the glares she received from near everyone in the room.
Con-None walked to one shaft and, ignoring all the prisoners and the guards, climbed to the next level. The guards glanced at him once and did nothing. They also ignored her so she followed behind, her breathing easy again.
At the top of the shaft, dozens of guards stood with food and drink. There were more lines here. This time, Con-None stood in one so she stood next to him. Even he couldn’t cut past this one.
Some prisoners in front handed over full sacks to the guards, heavy by the looks of them. But they could have dumped them into baskets like everyone else. It seemed odd they’d carry it all this way just to give to the guards. But many of the prisoners did this. Not only that, but the guards gave different food portions to those with sacks to hand over compared to those who didn’t. One ordîn stood by and wrote away in her bulky book as the sacks passed by her. When they opened, light poured out and Nasna’s eyes widened. They were handing over crystal.
It was Con-None and Nasna’s turn, but he shrugged and showed his empty hands. The guards handed them both their food and Nasna frowned. Of all the portions she’d seen handed over, theirs was hardly enough to call a meal. While others received even a strip of meat, all they got was a small bowl of mush. Her stomach lurched. For all the planning she’d done, she forgot she’d have to eat this while she was here. Later, she’d have to ask why they didn’t get meat as the others.
They dropped off their equipment near where they grabbed their food, though they kept their lightstones. Once done, Con-None headed straight to their cell, apparently not wanting to socialize with other tatzons. Nasna didn’t complain. With the looks she was getting, she preferred to be alone. Or, at least—she glanced at her cell-mate—as alone as she could be.
They left the main throng of prisoners and Nasna walked close to Con-None. "Why didn’t we get a better meal?”
Con-None smirked. "I told you before, crystal is currency here. No currency, no extra food.”
“Even if you mined iron all day?”
He nodded. “If you got a lot of iron, maybe. But even a little crystal is better.”
She stared at her bowl and frowned. "And we can’t get crystal because…”
“Because that’s where all the people wanting to kill you are.”
Looking at the bowl, she almost wanted to face every single one of them. If she had to live off this long, she just might. She looked up.
“Hey, why were guards inspecting prisoners earlier?”
“Oh, that? They’re checking for new arm growth.”
Nasna cocked her head. “What?”
“You know we tatzons can grow new arms, right?”
“Of course I do, I’m not stupid. But why would it matter how many arms you’ve got?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not the quantity they care about, it’s the type of arm.” He set his bowl aside and leaned forward, holding out two of his hands, the right one covered in black crescents, the left empty. “You know of the Seven by Sevens, yeah?”
Of course she did. However, Nasna doubted Whitestone would, so she shook her head.
“Thought as much. It’s a summation of tatzon magic. There are seven types of possessions, and within each type is seven layers of power. For instance, Guardians possess statues. That’s the type. The first layer of power is their ability to mind-possess the statue, where they put their consciousness in the statue but not their body. After that, they can body-possess, and then they can body-possess with empowerment. The layers after that are pretty rare. They’re powers more of legend than anything.
“Anyway, the point is this: every layer of every type is a new arm.” He held out his upper left arm. “This arm gives me the power to mind-possess statues.” His right arm. “This is body-possession.” The last left. “Body-possession with empowerment. All are of the same type. I can’t use any of these to, say, body-possess a tree or something. I’d first need an arm to mind-possess plants and build from there.”
“That’s the point of the priarm.”
He nodded. “More or less. It’s the only arm that can access all seven types. It only allows mind-possession, but that’s how tatzons get to choose what they’ll specialize in, if they remain active.”
“You said they don’t care about how many arms a person has, but the type. What type would they care to check for?” Even as she asked it, she looked to the darkened areas of the tunnel. “The shadows. They’re checking for Lightless.”
“Yeah, in our area the ordîns want to be sure there aren’t any Lightless.”
Nasna looked back at him. After a pointless day in the mines, she was hearing something pertinent.
“They keep Lightless on the other side of the prison. Too easy for them to escape here. The ordîns constructed this specialized area to keep the Lightless where they are. I haven’t been myself, but I’ve heard they made the whole gallery with lightstone. Prevents any shadows from forming so there’s nothing to possess.”
Nasna nodded. That mostly made sense, but not all of it. "If there aren’t Lightless here, why check for arm growth?”
“As long as someone has a priarm, they can learn any of the possessions. So anyone could start learning shadow possession if they wanted to. The chance of escape is a risk, so, at the end of each day, they check the tatzons for any new arms growing. If any show even a hint of arm development, they’re sent to the Lightless area. And never seen again.” He looked over at her. “Guess it’s good you humans can’t grow arms, yeah? If we had to check your diseased body every night, everyone would lose their appetite. Wouldn’t be real nice of you.”
Nasna rolled her eyes and looked ahead. They reached their cell, but Con-None didn’t enter. Instead, he took a seat next to the door and ate. Nasna also sat down, but she wouldn’t eat yet since it’d require moving the wrapping around her mouth and with the light from their necklaces, Con-None would see her non-diseased skin. She held her food in her lap.
“But you can’t tell just by looking at an arm what it can possess,” Nasna said. “So how do they know if the new arm is for possessing shadows? What if it was something else?”
“What else is there to possess? The only statues are above with the ordîns, and there aren’t beasts or plants in the mines. I suppose there’s a chance someone could try possessing spirits, but becoming a Soulborn is difficult and I doubt any of the criminals in these mines can do that or would even want to. That only leaves you with shadows.”
Nasna sat back and stared at her food. He was right, and there was no reason to dwell on it, they were all just criminals. But it didn’t sit well with her. Forcing someone into an even more isolated place just because of mere suspicion. Even as criminals, they’d still be taken from any bonds they’d made in the prison, away from any new friends they now had. Perhaps it was just. Perhaps it was wise. Either way, it sat in her stomach like a spoiled mushroom.
"What about the other two possessions?”
Con-None laughed. "You mean dreams? Allow me to let you into a little tatzon secret: nobody possesses dreams. Maybe to try it out once or twice, but it’s a useless possession to grow an arm for.”
“But they could possess the dead.” Nasna’s voice quieted. She never enjoyed thinking about Disturbers.
His laugh died and he frowned. “Maybe. Some here might try, but people don’t die around here in ways that usually allow possession to work. Collapsed rock ruins a body.”
“But why’d they ignore you?”
He stopped eating mid-bite and brought his food down. His face looked pained. She shouldn’t have asked.
“I don’t have my priarm,” he said, his words deliberate and forced. “None of these arms possess shadows. So, without my priarm, I can’t grow Lightless arms. They know this and so they don’t check me.”
Nasna looked away from him. This was a sore spot, that was clear. She needed to apologize and encourage— no, she would not do that. This, her Path dictated. She’d remain quiet. She was an idiot for asking and an even bigger idiot for caring. Better if she just changed the subject.
“They split Partners around prisons, right?”
“Typically.”
“Do you know where yours is?”
He rose to his feet, discarding the rest of his food. “I’m going to sleep. Shut the door when you come in.” Without even glancing at her he went inside and laid on his bed.
Only then did she realize her mistake. His name was Con-None. Literally that none was his Partner. She imagined there were many Con-Nones out there as a result of the war.
Now alone, she ate her food in silence and thought back over everything she’d learned, doing her best to not think of the questions she’d asked him.
If what he said was true, Valerija was in the other prison area. Now, Nasna just had to find a way there. However, if it was an area for Lightless, they wouldn’t take her there regardless of what she did since she couldn’t grow arms like a tatzon. She wasn’t a possessor. She was more.
She set aside her bowl, hung up her necklace, and went inside, shutting the iron door behind her. Darkness covered the small room. Some light filtered in through the cracks around the door edges, but otherwise, blackness surrounded her.
Her eyes adjusted to what light there was, though she couldn’t make much out. Con-None, wrapped in his blanket, turned away from her. He didn’t even stir when the door closed, a clear sign their interactions for the day were over, which was fine by her. But she frowned. He used the cot instead of the sleeping bar, and she hadn’t even asked him why… but she’d likely already received her answer. Tatzons used their priarm to hang from the bars and the other arms didn’t have the strength.
Considering the sensitivity of the topic, it was a good thing she hadn’t asked about it.
Nasna felt her way to where she’d dropped her bundle and laid out the blanket. It wasn’t much, but the air was not too cold so she didn’t worry about freezing to death. Trying to keep her eye on Con-None, she laid on the ground and draped the blanket over her, but the ground here was hard like the rock she’d been mining all day. No feathered beds for her in this prison. And sleep was hard in coming. She’d traveled a long distance without stopping and then mined rock for an entire day. Her body was ready to rest. Her mind, however, was as active as ever.
She undid her head wrapping just enough to pull out her lockpicks she’d strapped to the back of her head. After hiding these under the blanket, she reached under the wrapping on her arm and pulled out the long string she’d hid there. The ends remained tied together, so she took the string and weaved it around her fingers. With the darkness, she couldn’t even see it, but she didn’t need to. Her fingers moved on their own, moving in and out of the string, creating designs and figures she couldn’t see but knew so well her mind pictured them with total clarity. Once a figure was complete, she moved onto the next in the sequence. The memorized movement calmed her, focused her.
Her sister had taught her these, all those years ago, and the part that still wanted to be a sister clung onto this string, onto this memory. Only for right now was her Path quiet.
But it would not be forever.
Valerija waited for her. Death waited.
7
Complications
I understand your plight, Naresh. I do not envy you trying to corral those primitives into a holy nation, and stop expecting me to come aid the attempt. If even the rest of you Luminars have forgotten who you are, I have not. I am close, too. I have tracked the sacrifices to Tutchal, and it is here I shall end what we started. The Luminous will smile on us. I shall make sure of it.
- Luminar Stargazer, in the 2940th Lunar Cycle
Nasna let the punch hit her.
She fell to her knees, the side of her face pulsing. Her eyes remained downcast. If this satisfied them, they would leave her alone and she wouldn’t have to kill them.
“Damned Unhallowed,” the three-armed prisoner said and spat on her. Two others grabbed her by the arms and hoisted her against the wall, giving her a full view of her assailants.
They were the same four she’d caught trying to follow her and Con-None the last few days. This despite Con-None choosing a different level to work on each day. And this all began not long after Whitestone’s crime had become common knowledge, so Nasna dismissed it being coincidental. Everywhere she went, death-glares followed. Con-None said the two of them would have trouble at some point and it turns out he was right.
Of course, this hadn’t stopped her from losing him at every given opportunity. Never at a time where he’d be alone to face Solitude, but when they returned to a gallery. She had her mission to think of and needed him to be accustomed to her disappearing for long periods of time. Whenever they dropped off a sack of iron, she’d leave him with their tools and duck behind another group of miners. The galleries gave her little to explore and after an hour of her being gone, she’d make her way to find him again. It wasn’t a hard task since he always stayed inside the gallery near the pulleys. He met her with a glare and a further complaint. This had been another of her wanderings with nothing to note of. And then they showed up.
She looked them over. Three female tatzons, one male, all about mid-age. Two in their early to late sixties, the other two looked to be in their seventies. Only the female hitting her had three arms, all others had two. None had been active possessors or had been in the prison a long time since none had any possessor posture. Markings varied in color and shape, though one’s resembled a water ladle. Interesting. But on each of their scarred necks was a crude symbol they must’ve given each other. A line broken by an X. A vow for blood.
The symbols looked fresh.
The three-armed tatzon rolled up her sleeves and sneered at her, looming in and ready to strike. If Nasna fought, she’d kill or at least severely injure them with ease. That would put a bigger target on her, something she wasn’t all too eager to let happen.
She took in a breath and narrowed her eyes. She would take as much as her Path allowed.
They pinned her arms against the stone as three powerful fists pummeled into her. She gritted her teeth and took it. She tensed her muscles, giving her strength against the strikes. It helped little. She’d trained herself as an assassin, not a brawler. Aches covered her body and the side of her face was swelling. If she wasn’t wearing the wrappings, she’d have spat. And the assault didn’t waver. It built. The attacker grabbed her shoulders and drove a knee into her, knocking the air out and blackness flashed across her vision. They threw her to the ground, giving her battered body a moment of reprieve, though it brought little but coughing. Breathing only made everything worse. But all her limbs still moved, so fighting remained a possibility.
A crowd gathered. Her attackers assumed beating her in the middle of the gallery wouldn’t have bothered anyone. They were right. All the gathering tatzons looked pleased with what they were witnessing and a few smiled as if they also wanted a turn. Nasna was strong enough to take a single beating, but if others were being planned, she’d have to do something.
The prisoner turned her onto her back, straddling her, ready with another onslaught, much to the delight of a now cheering crowd. Nasna glared at her. She was ready. But the tatzon stared at her, eyes growing wide. Nasna squinted at her, but a coolness, a brush of air, caressed her cheek. Her exposed cheek. Some of her wrappings must’ve shifted during the attack and now revealed the flesh beneath. Revealed the crimson skin.
Nasna’s breath left her.
The tatzon pointed at her. "You… you’re a—”
Kill.
Nasna struck, grabbing a droplet of energy within the heart and released it. The woman toppled to the side, body still and lifeless. Nasna turned away from the crowd and fixed her wrapping so no one else would see. So she wouldn’t need to kill anyone else.
The crowd became silent. Nasna sat up and stared at the dead woman beside her. Another step into darkness. Her gaze fell to her hands. They remained wrapped. She couldn’t see them. Couldn’t see them covered in the blood of yet another. She closed them into a fist to prevent them from shaking. She would not shake here. Even if her weakness ached, she would not let it show. She stood, body aching, and faced the other assailants.
They, like the crowd, were quiet, mouths dropped. They rushed to their friend and checked her over. Nasna positioned herself so none of the prisoners were behind.
“She’s dead,” one said and glared at Nasna. “You killed my cell-mate. You killed another of us.” The crowd got over their shock and murmuring grew, as did the angry looks. Nasna’s eyes scanned the gallery.
