Leaving the safety of Ashvale left Caed feeling a certain way. He had some degree of backup, but he had become somewhat complacent in Wren’s company. Despite this, he had managed to wrangle the woman he sought, a sorceress of considerable strength, and one that had left Alk’Hath for a reason unbeknown to him.
She glared at him hatefully while he rummaged through her belongings. Since acquiring the journal he had accomplished much more than he thought he would, although he wondered how useful his findings would be to Veleria overall. It was clear to him that Cromwell was well past the planning phase of whatever he intended to do against the renowned sorceress. Perhaps her secrets were already well known to him.
“What do you expect to find, Caed?” The woman hissed. Despite the enormous amount of pain she must be in, the sorceress known as Amerath was surprisingly talkative.
“Little hints, maybe, that I’m right.”
Caed tossed an empty jewelry box over his shoulder. It nearly hit the crippled woman in the face.
“Right about what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Caed turned, looking down at the broken form of the dark haired Amerath before him. He had been merciless, far more than even with Raker when he foolishly doubted his own prowess. For her, he had broken her spine immediately. In his admittedly few years, he had seen far too many sorcerers use their hands for magic, which made him cripple Amerath for just that purpose. She was one of them.
“Perhaps that our Lord of Balance tilted the scales and favors an individual?”
“This isn’t the road you want to go down,” she laid her head down. Her strength was waning. “I’m sure you felt the change just as much as the rest of us, but trying to play this game with Alk’Hath will only lead to your demise.”
Caed snorted. It nearly already had, and that was before Veleria accidentally planted this idea in his head. He started unrolling some of her scrolls.
“What if I told you that Cromwell already has the upper hand? Maybe things aren’t so set in stone.” He popped the journal open as he studied an unrolled diagram. The half that he had seen previously was on the diagram, so he rolled it back up and stuffed it into a pack that was at rest against his hip.
Amerath released a haggard sigh.
“I’ve heard that before,” she said. “Honestly, Caed, I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Istvar would never be so foolish as to try her luck like this.”
Now that he had what he needed, he approached Amerath. He nudged her onto her back with his foot. Seeing her like this, a broken woman unable to conjure even a single defensive spell, Caed found that he felt a little remorse.
What had Veleria done to him?
“Sorry, but isn’t isn’t about Istvar anymore. She can make me blind in the one eye if she wants to punish me, but I know she wants this just as much as the rest of us. She’s just scared.” Caed placed one hand on his hat. He pulled it up a bit, observing the room and Amerath beneath his foot. His glasses fell just a smidgen over the bridge of his nose. “If you weren’t still bound by the Arbiter maybe I’d have let you go, but I can’t trust a sorcerer who can still be compelled.”
“Wait, Caed—“
But he already made up his mind. Before she could finish her sentence, Caed crushed her skull between two opposing walls of force. While he never was the type to feel much from exercising his prowess, he found that murdering Amerath did even less for him. It was easy to justify the need, but the elation from bloodshed was not something Caed felt in the moment.
He brought his gloved finger to his cheek. One small blood droplet had made its way there. Wiping it away, he looked down at the red marring the leather, and Caed wondered.
When did this start? Was it when he accidentally murdered the whore Adrian hired while he was investigating Veleria the first time? He had already touched her by then.
“Want to offer your chosen a little insight?” Caed asked, glancing towards a section of the room that held broken glass from when he first hit Amerath with the crippling blow. One of many mirrors that once decorated the room.
Words were rarely straightforward when it came to his goddess. As one governing recollection, she was simply too abstract to communicate in a casual manner. Most, if not all, of her commands came through visions and dreams. He waited a moment longer before turning to leave.
Sorcerers predate him.
Caed paused. He considered looking back, but decided against it, knowing that what Istvar said was all she was willing to give him. Looking forward, he pushed his glasses up and readjusted his hat before heading back towards the road.