The Whispering Gallery: A Flamekeeper Archives Short Story

frowns appeared across the Flamekeeper's lips as she observed Kayla's face. "A pale-skin," the woman observed. "Then you are the one."

  "You were expecting me?" Kayla asked. She had never been identified before, especially not by a target. She had been trained to arrive without notice and leave silently. Kayla had excelled in that.

  "Your identity is known to me. You are of the Crimson. Sent here to take me to the spirits, yes?"

  Kayla remained silent.

  "Am I to take your silence as affirmation?" The woman smiled. "Very well. Then let us converse."

  "I have precious little interest in idle chatter," Kayla said irritably. "If you know who I am, then you know you cannot stop what is to come." She tried to break free once again, but the guard grabbed both of her arms and pulled her against his large chest, pinning her. She kicked at his shins but he didn't seem to notice. Kayla had to regain control of the situation, somehow.

  The Flamekeeper chuckled quietly at this. "My dear, I have not dreamed of stopping you. You will have your wish." The woman walked over to a small table that had been set up with a teapot and two cups on small saucers. They were clean and expensive, and did not fit at all with the dark, dusty room. She sat and poured tea into the cups delicately, as if the two were long lost friends and not enemies. "I don't suppose you even know my name, child. I am Laerin, and my friend here is Trey. All I ask for is a few precious moments of your time, and then I will allow you to complete your task. You have my word."

  Kayla stopped trying to break Trey's shins and relaxed. He took this for acquiescence and released her. "Alright, I'm listening," Kayla said, and walked over to take a seat across from Laerin. She folded her arms, refusing the tea.

  Laerin brought her own cup to her lips and took a long sip, watching Kayla. She held the cup in both hands, as if needed its warmth even in the blazing heat of the desert. "Your masters are known to me. They exist in the space between realms, living and yet not living among divinity and mortals alike. But they have changed, child. They are not the masters you answered to before."

  "Changed, how?" Kayla demanded.

  "Once, the Nameless guided the hand of fate. Now, they tire of their half-existence and seek to create their own destiny. This, I have seen, though I do not understand what they hope to accomplish. Do they wish to live as mortals, or do they seek eternity in true death? No matter their goal, the end result is destruction and chaos." Laerin stared at her tea solemnly, and Kayla realized she had no reason to distrust the Flamekeeper. After all, Kayla was the murderous and vile one. Laerin represented something far purer than Kayla could ever hope to become.

  "So you think that is why they sent me to kill you? So they could be... free?" It doesn't make sense, Kayla thought to herself. They wanted me to become one of them. What is the point if they seek to no longer be Nameless?

  Laerin nodded in response. "A few years ago, the Nameless sent an assassin after a mother who was with child."

  Kayla winced involuntarily. She could still feel the mother's blood on her hands, no matter how many times she washed them. The child, though it had never been born, haunted her dreams nearly every night since then. Death had never unnerved her so.

  "Ah," Laerin realized. "Did you ever ask them why, child?"

  "I don't ask questions," Kayla said quietly, staring at her lap.

  "Her child was to be a Flamekeeper. The spirits sang the child's name, and woefully, the Nameless ordered the death of the girl."

  "If the child was meant to live, how come a mere mortal was able to kill it?"

  "A valid question, assassin. You are beginning to understand. This child's destiny was known to the Nameless, and they are keenly aware of how easily fate can change when placed in the hands of one who is less attuned to it. And so they sent you."

  "I don't understand," Kayla admitted.

  Laerin smiled sadly. "It is difficult to explain, as I, too, am but a mortal. I have studied the ways of destiny my entire life, and have learned how to glimpse the future, and yet I still do not understand the full workings of the divine. But I do understand that those who decide fate cannot ensure it. In a way, that makes us mortals more powerful than the spirits themselves."

  Kayla nodded silently, waiting for Laerin to continue.

  "You walk down a dark path, assassin. One that ends soon, but it does not have to be the end of your story. I am the last of my kind. You and your comrades have killed the others. And yet there is one that will be. No doubt you will be asked to harm her when the time comes." Laerin waved Trey over, and he placed Rend on the table in front of Kayla. Laerin set her cup down on its saucer delicately and met Kayla's gaze, her expression void of emotion, her tone serious. "I ask you, assassin. Do you serve the Nameless, or the spirits?"

  Kayla picked up Rend and drew the silver blade. "Go with peace to the spirits, Flamekeeper," she whispered, and moved close to Laerin to slit her throat. She paused. The Flamekeeper was no longer breathing, her eyes closed. Kayla pressed her hand to Laerin's cheek and felt the coldness of death upon it. Trey did not react. Kayla looked at him for a moment, waiting to see if he would act, before sheathing her blade and pushing the door open to the outside. The sun blinded her momentarily as she stood in the doorway. A large hand gently pushed at the small of her back as the giant man stepped outside behind her, pulling the door shut.

  "We go to the temple, now. There is no time, and traveling is not safe," he said. His voice was deep and sent a shiver up Kayla's spine.

  "What do you mean?" she asked, but he had already begun pushing his way through the crowd toward the temple. She followed.

  Trey led her through a side door of the temple and down several flights of stairs, so far down that the hot desert air finally relented and became pleasantly cool. Kayla followed him in silence, pondering the final words of the Flamekeeper. If what she had said was true, and all the Flamekeepers were now gone, then what did that mean for the world? Even if one was to be born soon, how would the child know what needed to be done? Her thoughts were interrupted by the ground suddenly lurching beneath her feet. Stones came loose from the ceiling and fell around her. She leapt and pressed herself against the wall of the stairway to avoid a large rock. "What is going on?" she asked.

  "The earth trembles before the fury of the spirits," Trey said. "It is as the Flamekeeper saw." He picked up his pace, almost running down the stairs.

  "If she knew she was going to die, then why put herself through the trouble of talking to me?" Kayla dodged another falling rock and swiftly followed him.

  "She knew you were not like the others, girl. She knew you would do the right thing."

  She mulled this over as the pair reached the bottom of the steps. "My name is Kayla," she said.

  "The assassin gives her name?" He turned his head to look at her, one thick black eyebrow raised.

  "You don't know it's my real name."

  "True enough," he said with a smile. "There is a portal in here. Do you feel the strong magic within this place? It is Tamyr's greatest treasure, and yet precious few are even aware of its existence. This will take you to Starfall."

  "You're not going with me?" She wanted to kick herself for asking. She had spent her entire adult life working alone. And yet this man may be the only one who could give her answers.

  Trey seemed puzzled at her question. "I will follow, if you wish. But you must go first. I will ensure you remain safe."

  Kayla nodded faintly and looked around the room. It was completely empty save for a few markings on the ground. For the most part, it seemed like an ordinary storage room. But Kayla could feel the magic. It was a sort of heat, brushing against her skin and causing the hairs to stand up at the back of her neck. She watched as Trey stepped toward the center of the room and spread his hands out, palms facing the ground. The ground started emitting beams of blue light that stretched out and formed an orb in front of him. "Go," he said, so quietly that Kayla almost didn't hear him. She tentatively stepped toward the orb and placed her fi
ngertips against it softly. The light flickered as her fingers passed through.

  "There's no time to be afraid," Trey urged.

  As if to accentuate his warning, the ground shuddered violently and the ceiling began to deteriorate in earnest. Kayla threw herself into the portal just as the ceiling collapsed.

  Kayla landed roughly on a bed of leaves within the Sea of Willows. Large slabs of stone surrounded her. She was covered in cuts and bleeding in some places, but she could move her limbs well enough, so nothing appeared to be broken. She looked around and saw a large pile of cloth under some stone. She blinked a few times to adjust her vision to the sudden change in light, and realized that the pile of cloth was Trey. She knelt beside him, and he looked up at her with a pained expression. He was trapped from the waist down under a pile of heavy rocks. Kayla began grabbing some of the smaller rocks and tossing them aside.

  "Leave me, Kayla. You have more important things to do," he said with a cough.

  "Don't be stupid," she retorted and began pushing against a particularly large rock.

  "It is strange to me, that an assassin would attempt to save a life rather than take it. It cannot be very profitable."

  "Do not mistake me for a common brute, Trey. I do not work for coin. The reward for my contracts is the satisfaction that I have done the work of the spirits. They will allow my soul to rest peacefully