The Burden of the Protector by S.C. Eston Page B

was gone. This could only mean that Vìr was out and about. It gave me courage and hope. I hid the sword in the same location, hoping he would return and find it. If not, it was as safe a place as any.
    The next days had me occupied in regular training sessions. I found some enjoyment in the archery rivalries but struggled with worry for Vìr. I knew he would not go away without Maéva. And she was well guarded and still restrained to her home, as far as I could tell.
    Those days were some of the longest of my life. Waiting, not knowing where Vìr was. Yet I felt alive. I was part of something. It was wrong, all wrong, and yet so right. One morning, I stopped by the hidden stash. The sword was gone. I remember not being able to stop smiling.
    Then, late one night, I returned home after a training day with Eriéla. We asked to be matched when possible, practicing swordplay and archery, challenging each other. The sun was long gone as I entered my house and made my way toward my bed. There I found a letter. I quickly looked around, inside and out, but could find no one. Knowing I was alone, with trembling fingers I opened the letter and read it under the weak flame of a candle.
    My friend,
    If you are still of the mind to help, we may yet make use of your assistance. If it is so, when sheets of rain fall in two days’ time, come to the bridge of Saril with the dawn.
    If not, I will understand. This letter then becomes my farewell to you. Take care, my friend, and thank you for returning my blade.
    Vìr
    It was indeed Vìr’s signature. He would always sign the ì and r first, quickly, and finish with the V in a flourish. I imagined his hand putting the ink down and forming these precious words, as I had seen before in his house…
    I sat down on my bed and struggled to stop tears from filling my eyes.
    My friend, he had written.
    *
    Darkening 23, year 2966, Dàr is 25.
    The rain was falling hard two days later, as predicted by Vìr. I awoke in darkness and made my way to the bridge. Ta’Énia was asleep, and the only sound was the constant clobbering of the rain. When I reached the bridge, no one was there. I made my way to one of the tall stone columns standing beside the bridge and put my back to it, trying to hide from the rain.
    A hand grabbed me by the shoulder. It was a short man, an elder with a greyish beard, covered by a thick coat and a cape.
    “Follow me,” he instructed over the rain.
    We didn’t cross the bridge but went back toward Ta’Énia and made our way north. Far to the east, the sun was fighting the clouds, trying to bring light to the day but incapable of doing so. That day was to stay dark and grey.
    The elder was moving surprisingly fast through trees, around bushes, up and down hills, until we reached a small, isolated habitation. It was dilapidated and almost falling down. The door was non-existent and we entered quickly. At least the roof was solid and kept the rain away.
    My heart stopped as I saw a figure in a corner, sitting down. The figure looked my way, and I almost didn’t recognize him.
    “He was poisoned,” said the elder beside me. “He cannot talk.”
    It took me a moment to understand the implication of his words. I looked at the elder, saw him making signs to Vìr. I looked at Vìr. His face was extremely skinny, almost bony. A raspy noise came from his throat as he returned the signs. Breathing…simple breathing turned into torture every time air went to and from his lungs.
    “It wasn’t me…” I murmured. “I…”
    “He knows,” said the elder man. “And he is glad you were spared.”
    Spared?
    It then dawned on me that, indeed, it had been my doing.
    The food!
    I put a hand on the wall to keep myself from fainting. I suddenly felt sick, terribly sick. The world around me seemed to be crumbling. The Sy’Iss had known I was bringing the food and had used me… Bile and the taste of disgust floated in my throat.
    “I left food,” I added quickly. “More food, with