Coldness of the Soul

Chapter 1: Fate of Deception

Vanyel heard the distant cry, screaming the name of his lover. He discovered and clapped his hand to his mouth that it was he who had screamed. In terror, he watched as 'Lendel plummeted from the bell tower, wanting to scream his name but no sound would come out. His eyes widened more and more as 'Lendel fell closer to the ground.

A soft white glow came and catched 'Lendel just before his body made contact. Vanyel gasped for air, staring at 'Lendel. He still lived. Vanyel couldn't believe it. He couldn't hear anything, oblivious to anything but Tylendel. He didn't hear Tylendel's screams at Savil, who had saved him. He didn't hear Savil who yelled back at him, scolding him for what he had done. Vanyel unconsciously walked closer towards 'Lendel. Savil changed her arguments. She pointed a finger at Vanyel, startled Vanyel stepped back a step. Tylendel's face went from anger and deep pain to worry and agony.

He reached for Vanyel; Vanyel reached forward to him as well and staggered a step. 'Lendel reached closer and Vanyel collapsed into his arms. 'Lendel collapsed down to the ground as well, holding Vanyel in his arms. Tylendel was in a kneeling position and about to collapse, Vanyel's head on his chest. Savil came to attend them and yelled for healers. The last thing Vanyel remembered before he drifted off to sleep in weariness was a sweet, clear voice: Rest well, Chosen:

Vanyel woke up, unable to move his arms. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. When the feeling came back to his arms, he slowly lifted them to cradle his head. Closing his eyes, he could feel some of the voices retreating from his head. The channels in his mind were burned raw. There was something inside him now, something he could just reach but dared not to. A face appeared in his mind, Tylendel. The whole of last night came to him in a flash. Tylendel's face, the tower, a sapphire eye. He was rocked backward by the force of the memories that flooded into him. Oh gods, Tylendel, he thought, where is 'Lendel?

The door creaked slowly open. He didn't even make the effort to pretend he was asleep. He struggled to sit up. Savil, he didn't know how he knew but he could tell it was Savil who had come through the door. Savil came to sit on the edge of his bed. A stretch of silence came over them.

Vanyel couldn't stand the silence anymore. "Where is 'Lendel?" he demanded of Savil. "Where is he? How is he? Is he safe?"

Savil looked forlorn. "He's safe. He … I don't know if he'll make it. I mean after Staven's death and after Gala repudiated him and then her death. I don't know if he can take it." She looked up into Vanyel's cold, cold eyes. She saw something there, just behind the mask. Agony. Just a hint of it, he was trying so hard to hide it that if you weren't looking for a reaction you wouldn't have found it.

"But he has me." Vanyel exclaimed, a hint of a whine in it. Vanyel looked down at his hands. His bandaged, weak hands.

Savil looked at him as he dropped his head. Vanyel was unstable, she knew that, the council knew that, but he could be stronger than any other Herald-mage there ever was before in Valdemar's history. If Tylendel died she knew he would be thrown into emotional distress and that he might, probably would kill himself as well. "Vanyel," she said in a whispered voice. He looked at her, avoiding his eyes she continued, "I can take you to see him. He's being watched by one member of the council at a time to make sure he won't try the tower again or anything else of the like."

Vanyel had a flash of fear in his eyes but they returned to their normal cold silver. "Please," pleading in his voice, "Please take me to him."

Savil got up and waited for Vanyel. After a moment she noticed that Vanyel had not the strength to get up. She knew he wouldn't ask for help. After all, he was still an adolescent. She rushed to his side and slung his arm over her shoulders. She was careful not to jar his hands.

They hobbled their way to the workroom, flinging open the door. Vanyel staggered so much at the sight of Tylendel that Savil couldn't support him. He sagged to the floor, dragging Savil down with him. Vanyel's eyes were wide with horror, his mouth open in a silent exclamation. Savil heard the weak, quavering voice that was barely more than a whisper, "'Lendel."

Tylendel was still unconscious. No one had helped him change from his clothes the night before. His dark breeches were splashed in Gala's blood. Dirt and dust from the road had gathered on his clothes, sticking to them. His hands were covered in dried blood. The crimson paint was cracked where he had clenched his fists. He had been laid on a white marble table in the centre of the workroom. Jaysen looked up from his chair beside the table. His eyes were red-ringed. He had been crying. Jaysen brushed rapidly at his eyes.

Savil picked Vanyel up again and staggered, trying to keep Vanyel up as well as trying to keep up with him, in his rush to get to Tylendel. When he got to Tylendel's side, Jays had already gotten out of the chair beside the table. Vanyel sagged into the chair gratefully. He plucked weakly at Tylendel's sleeve. Jays took Savil out to leave Vanyel in some relative privacy with Tylendel.

After a candle mark had passed, they went back inside to see how Vanyel and Tylendel were. Their eyes softened at the sight of Vanyel asleep at Tylendel's side. Vanyel's fingers were laced with Tylendel's. They closed the door and left them alone once more. Savil ushered Jays off to bed and took a post just outside the workroom.