Some say that words are silver and that silence is golden. But sometimes even the faintest of words could prove to be priceless.
This is a story complementary in a way to my previous one – Sobriety. Although it's absolutely not necessary to read that one first, as this one is stand alone in itself, I of course invite you to check it out. This one is set much later in time and in fact more precisely – at the beginning of chapter 28 in The Novice. For those too lazy to open the book ;) I cite the appropriate part.
Disclaimers: The part in italics in front and at the end of the story are taken straight from the books of Trudi Canavan, as are the characters and general plot line. The captions come from a song by Schiller performed by September – Breathe. It might be worth to listen to it while you read.
Warnings: Angst. Loads of. If you thought Sobriety was angsty, you've seen nothing yet.
I need a vision,
A straight line back to you…
"…I remember a novice in my class whose power grew as fast."
Lorlen regarded Akkarin closely. In the bright sunlight the High Lord's pale skin looked sickly. Shadows lay under his eyes, but his gaze was sharp.
"As I recall you progressed just as quickly."
"I've often wondered if we would have, had we not been constantly trying to outdo each other."
Lorlen shrugged. "Probably."
"I don't know. Perhaps the rivalry was good for us."
"Good for us?" Lorlen gave a short laugh. "Good for you. Believe me, there was nothing good about second place. Next to you, I may as well have been invisible – at least when it came to the ladies. If I'd known we'd both end up as bachelors, I wouldn't have been so jealous of you."
"Jealous?" Akkarin's smile faded. He turned away to stare at the horizon. "No. Don't be jealous."
The reply was so faint the Administrator wondered if he had really heard it. Lorlen opened his mouth to ask why he shouldn't be, but Akkarin's gaze had slid to the ruined Lookout.
Lorlen let his eyes wander as well. Beyond the walls of the Guild the city of Immardin stretched towards the distant sea. He could clearly make out the luxurious residences of the Inner Circle – those of the wealthiest Houses even surrounded by green circles of gardens, but all of them languidly sprawling across the limited area. In the middle, the delicate arcs of the Royal Palace added a feeling of almost intangible beauty to the grandeur of the district – this was the most central part of Kyralia. It all contrasted visibly with the cramped architecture outside of the Inner Circle. There, each square meter seemed priceless – and was occupied. The streets were narrow, the buildings almost leaning on one another, and even though some of them were splendid as well they lost their beauty in this endless fight for space. Beyond that, the poorest part of the city – outside of the city walls – touched on the shipyard. The vessels restlessly trembling with each wind blow seemed delicate from that afar, especially when contrasted with the huge mass of water they were outlined against. It seemed almost impossible that they could traverse the fierce power of Tarali river – overflowing with spring thaw – and reach the much calmer waters of Tanjin sea. The greenish and dirty brown blue of the river estuary dissolved into azure and stretched towards the horizon where it met the sky. The still cold winter wind brought a wet breeze that smelled of the sea – Lorlen breathed in deeply, wishing he could follow it towards some foreign lands and leave all his troubles behind. As his eyes took in the sight that lay in front of him, his mind wandered elsewhere.
He remembered the times when they were novices with Akkarin, the endless rivalry and sparring. At times, he was determined to outdo Akkarin at least once, but this determination was intertwined with spells of sheer despondency. Sometimes, he had simply believed there was no way he could be better than his friend, at least when it came to warrior skills. These were the moments when he felt depressed and ashamed of himself, but also angry and resentful towards Akkarin – he felt as if he was merely a shadow to his friend and rival that allowed the other one to shine all the brighter. Still, somewhere deep inside he knew Akkarin was not at fault here and it made him even more disappointed with himself. Back then, he loathed these moments and tried to avoid this line of thought but he would give anything now to go back to these times. Times when his only worry was that Akkarin did better than him. Times when he could still talk about it freely with him, even though it was somewhat painful. When they didn't have to hide anything before each other. When he trusted Akkarin with his whole heart. But Akkarin was a slightly different person then. Less troubled, much less secretive and more open with his feelings and thoughts.
When did all this go so wrong…? Was it when Akkarin left for his educational journey? It was meant to be short, boring and altogether unimportant – or so he explained back then – but Lorlen still felt a pang of hurt when he remembered the moment he learned Akkarin explicitly did not wish for Lorlen's company. He didn't understand the reasons behind that back then and he wished he didn't have to think about it right now. But the thoughts kept clouding his mind, filling it with doubt. Was it because Akkarin already knew what he was looking for – something forbidden that he did not want Lorlen to learn about? Did he decide that the Guild's knowledge and Lorlen's friendship were only as good as they could get and discarded it all thoughtlessly once he took out what he needed? Was that friendship only a façade and in fact Lorlen was a fool to trust Akkarin to begin with? Lorlen shook his head slightly; he really didn't want to think about it, to doubt this part of his life which was for him for so long one of the brightest memories.
Maybe it was after the journey that Akkarin became so distant? He definitely had had his secrets even before that, but since he came back they didn't really have anything in common anymore. For five long years Lorlen prayed that Akkarin would come back alive but when he did, it was just as painful as the moment when he left. They had little in common and mending all the broken connections was a tough struggle. Now that Lorlen looked back at that time, he was aware that they didn't mend them in fact. They merely covered the holes with false stories and explanations. Lorlen accepted Akkarin's unwillingness to share much with him and settled for convenient small talks about unimportant things. He needed this friendship; he needed it badly, even if it meant pretending. Even when he became Administrator and Akkarin High Lord, he didn't put any pressure on his friend – he accepted whatever little knowledge Akkarin would confide in him without asking for the source. Yes, he was aware that Akkarin knew a lot and that his powers increased strangely; that he had acquired skills that no one else had. But he didn't want to doubt his sincerity, his honesty. Because it would mean he would have to doubt this farce of a friendship they shared and he wasn't ready for it then. He wasn't ready for that now either but he had no choice – all the doubt came by itself and refused to leave. Did he really know this man at all? Or had he been fooled from the very beginning? Once he saw Sonea's story at that fateful Truth Read he wasn't sure anymore.
He shivered when his eyes accidently fell on the building of the City Guard. All these people whose bodies he was shown lately – were they victims of his naivety? He had purposefully overlooked all the signs of the danger; he preferred not to notice the strange powers that Akkarin displayed – all for the sake of their friendship. If Akkarin was the culprit here, part of the guilt fell on Lorlen as well. As the Administrator he could not afford such weaknesses – he was responsible for the Guild's safety and for the safety of Immardin. Yet, he had sinned against all these people by trusting a Black Magician. Was the man who stood before him facing the helpless city the murderer? Was Lorlen himself guilty of believing in him? A red sparkle elicited by the cold winter sunlight caught his eye and he laughed inwardly with bitterness looking down at the ruby ring that graced his finger. This very man knew all about Lorlen's doubts. He could hear Lorlen's thoughts even right now. One word from him and they would be cast away. Lorlen winced. One word from Akkarin and he knew he would sin again. If only he had anything to hang on to. He stared down intently at the ring.
"Give me a reason, Akkarin… As little as the weakest excuse to trust in you again." He shifted his gaze from the ring and fixed it for a while on Akkarin's silent form in front of him. "…Please."
The High Lord kept on staring onto the city lying below them. Lorlen waited for a while more, eyes on his silhouette against the blue sky, but then followed his gaze. Immardin seemed still and lifeless from this distance, even though Lorlen knew in reality it was seething with life – with the everyday commotion that its inhabitants filled it with. He turned again towards Akkarin, his voice seemingly calm and relaxed.
"I guess we should finally decide if it is worth spending money on rebuilding the Guild walls where they are damaged."
Akkarin turned around to face him. As he was outlined against the sunlight Lorlen couldn't make out his face clearly. "Definietely," the High Lord sounded as calm and confident.
"How are Davin's plans for the Lookout going?"
I can't breathe, my love
I'm swimming in the dark beside you
Can't get you find a friend
But you've got me lost again.
I can't breathe, my love
I'm following the path behind you
But somehow I'm lost again.
Is this the bitter end
For us?