A Song of Snow and Ashes
cautiously.
Quick as lightning, she pelted him with a snowball, right in the chest.
"Hey, that was a low blow," he blurted, startled.
She smacked him with a snowball in the leg. "No, that was a low blow," she countering, laughing.
He blinked a few times, and then laughed. "Amazing," he muttered, then returned the volley.
They chased each other with snowballs until they reached the dining hall. Bad shots smacked into the doors. Soon a young man poked his head out to see what the noise was, and he got hit with a stray snowball. He called for reinforcements, and within minutes, there was nearly a full-scale snow war being fought.
An hour later, Davin walked Eliora back to her cottage. Both were soaked through, but both had forgotten their sadness.
"Well, goodnight," she said, unlocking the door.
"Thank you for cheering me up," he replied.
She smiled. "I do my best. I prefer to laugh rather than cry, especially on days of celebration."
"Both have their place. This has been a memorable solstice."
"The way you say it, I'm not sure if that's good or bad."
He met her eyes, and again, there was something there she couldn't read, but she was inexplicably reminded of Basir and Zeki. "You know, you should wear your hair down sometime. I'll bet it's really long."
"It's not really practical for fighting," she replied, a little confused.
"You're not always in fighting practice." He smiled, and took her hand. He kissed the back of it in a gentlemanly fashion. "Goodnight, Eliora." Then he turned and left.
She watched him go with a thoughtful expression. "I'll agree, it's been a memorable solstice. And apparently there are more possibilities open to me than I realized. But what shall I do with those possibilities?" She stared at the fire in contemplative silence for another couple of hours before finally going to bed.
The days passed quickly in Renfrew. Soon the city was covered in a thick blanket of snow. A bitter wind blew in from the north, and patches of ice formed in the slow moving parts of the Azura River, hindering trade. Icicles hung from the eaves, some so long they stabbed into snow drifts. Donnan felt restless, and was plagued by doubt since meeting Eliora. Blake didn't bring up the subject, just lent quiet sympathy to his friend's plight. He continued his fighting practice, and was progressing well. He'd been allowed the use of a real weapon, and had started to beat his instructor regularly. Oddly, this didn't make him feel much better.
Under the watchful eye of the Dark clergy, he had started learning arcane magic. They lent him a room which they had warded as best they could against backlashes and wild magic. He spent long afternoons locked in that room, piecing out the instructions and explanations. He had no time to study Arcana properly, but his grades stayed high because he was using the language. He went out with Aolani twice more before the solstice, and became, if anything, more taken with her.
He continued to run messages for the clergy, and while he often met with Dwyer to discuss plans, he was more resigned than enthusiastic. The priest seemed to have noticed, but he never pressed Donnan about the issue. His relationship with Alain was still tense, and while his brother didn't say anything specifically, he managed to make it evident he didn't like Donnan working for the Order of Darkness. This made Donnan even more miserable, as for the first time in his life he had a significant savings and wanted to get Alain a really nice new year's gift, but he thought his brother might refuse a gift bought with the Order's money.
The solstice dawned cloudy and cold. Donnan awoke, feeling odd. The power within him that had been mostly quiet was moving again, pushing to get out, pressing to be used. He fetched water for tea and washing, then started on breakfast, trying to ignore the odd feeling.
Alain soon came in from watch, wet and cold. "Damn, damn, I really do hate the night watch some times," he said by way of greeting. He immediately went into the bedroom to change his clothes and dry his armor.
"Good mornin' to you to," Donnan returned dryly.
"Gods, I hope that tea is ready soon. I'm freezin'."
"Do you have to work tonight?"
"'Fraid so. A lot of us do. Lots of drunks out on new year's evenin'. But I'm off new year's night. That's somethin', at least."
"Yeah, that's somethin'," he agreed. He laid out breakfast and poured the tea. "So what do you want to do?"
"Well, I don't know yet," Alain started, taking a sip of the strong tea. He looked up at his brother. "Are you goin' to be at the... Holy sweet god of Light," he yelped, jumping backwards. He dropped the mug and knocked his chair over, scrambling to get away from his brother.
"What in darkness is wrong with you?" he snapped, suddenly scared and quickly setting the kettle down.
"What in darkness is wrong with you?" Alain retorted. "Your eyes are black. All black."
"What?" He picked up a clean metal plate and used it like a mirror. Sure enough, his eyes were black from edge to edge. "Godsdammit," he swore loudly, dropping the plate. It clattered against the table. "Damn damn damn it."
"What-what've they been doin' to you over at the Temple?" he stuttered. He stopped moving backwards, but he wasn't coming any closer.
"It's not their fault," he sighed. "Damn it, damn, damn, damn. I didn't want you to find out like this. I hoped you wouldn't find out at all. Damn it to darkness."
"What're you talkin' about, little brother? What's goin' on here? Are you alright? Maybe I should take you to the Temple of Day or somethin'."
"Oh, gods no. That's the worst thing you could do. Gods." He sat down heavily in his chair. "Gods. Alain, I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry."
"What's goin' on?" he pressed. He moved forward and set his chair upright. He sat down cautiously. "Are you sick or possessed or somethin'?"
"Or somethin'," he agreed. "Gods. You weren't supposed to find out. Not like this. Not now."
"Find out what, Donnan?" His blue eyes were wide with fear. "What's goin' on?"
He stared morosely into his breakfast plate, and tried to will his eyes back to normal. They stubbornly stayed black. "I guess I should've expected somethin' like this today, bein' the winter solstice and all," he murmured.
"What? What are you talkin' about? You're really scarin' me here."
"Well, my explainin' what's goin' on isn't goin' to help that."
"Donnan, just talk to me," he pleaded.
"Oh, god, Alain, I don't know what to say. I don't know half of what's goin' on anyway."
"Then just tell me what you know. Please."
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "Alright. But you have to promise not to tell anyone, alright? Not your friends, not your boss, not a cleric, no one. Not another living soul. Promise me."
The larger man looked suspicious, but nodded. "Alright. I promise I won't tell anyone." He picked up his mug with a trembling hand. "I'll get some more tea, then."
"Not a bad idea." When his brother had sat back down, he sighed, and spoke. "Here's what's goin' on, as far as I know. The gods are fightin'. They've been fightin' for a while, I think, and now they've gone and done somethin' different. They've picked two humans to fight for them, two people to channel Their power. Avatars, we're called. One Avatar of Light, and one of Darkness. I think you can guess which one I am," he explained bitterly.
"Gods, Donnan. But why? Why you?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. I talked the Dark One, and It said It could have Chosen someone else, but Chose my soul anyway. I don't know why, and It wouldn't tell me much."
"You-you talked to the god?" he stuttered.
"Well, I couldn't get straight answers from the Order," he snapped, his temper flaring in his anxiety. "I don't think they know as much as they pretend anyway."
"But you can't talk to the god. Only clerics can do that."
"Clerics have nothin' compared to what I got. I'm an Avatar. Don't you under
stand what that means? I've got a direct connection to god. To the Dark One."
Alain just stared with his mouth hanging open for several moments. "But why you?" he repeated finally.
"I don't know," he retorted, standing up suddenly. "God won't tell me that. Just stupid bad luck, as best I can tell. Do you think I'm happy about this? I'm terrified, alright? Do you know what kind of power I have?"
"N-no. I just found out, remember."
"Right." He plopped back into his chair. "Right. Maybe I shouldn't tell you. You're scared enough."
"Can I be scared enough?" he returned thoughtfully.
Donnan gave a bitter, ironic half-laugh. "Maybe not. Maybe not. Alright, I don't know when exactly I was Chosen, but I get the feelin' it was long before I could have done anythin' about it. Remember those weird dreams I was havin' after the summer solstice?"
Alain nodded.
"Yeah, well, those were warnin's from god about what was goin' to happen. On the equinox I got real sick, and I guess the Dark One told the Order what was happenin' and they came and got me. God explained, sort of, what was happenin' to me, and what I could do. I'm a sorcerer now. Well, bigger than a sorcerer. And I can control the wind and water. I can control weather. I've got enough power to do anythin' I want. Anythin' at all."
He was silent for a few moments. "So what's wrong with your eyes?"
"I don't know. I guess since it's the winter solstice and all, they've gone to black, like the Darkness."
"Gods."
"Yeah."
"That's why you're workin' for the Order?"
"Yeah."