Nature Abhors a Vacuum

  * * *

  As it turned out, they started out shortly after dawn, having slept in later than they'd planned. Aiden had no illusions about what they were undertaking here. He could only hope the rangers they were to meet up with were skilled enough to sneak them into the cave where the akoran leader, Erag Black-Tiger, was holed up.

  From what Tara had described, the fortifications around the complex were formidable. An army with a catapult would make short work of their palisade. However, as he was constantly reminded, there was no army, no reinforcements, and not even stepped-up patrols for the highway. If they ran into trouble, nobody would be coming to get them.

  Colt, who seemed to have avoided drinking too much last night, had taken the lead. The gravity of the situation was evidently not lost on him, and Aiden was secretly impressed that the man knew where to draw the line.

  Nellise strolled along with Pacian, the two of them appearing to have reopened talks, which was another good sign for their future involvement. Her gleaming armour was partially concealed by a white cloak Pacian had the foresight to purchase the previous day and she wore her white hood over her head instead of her new helmet.

  He'd bought five such cloaks, one for each of them to wear as a kind of snow camouflage, one of the few advantages they'd have on the akoran high plains.

  Sparse trees lent a gloomy aspect to the journey and did nothing to lift their spirits, while the terrain gradually sloped upwards as they left the valley of Bracksford behind for the colder climate of the nearby foothills.

  At this rate, they'd make Coldstream by sundown, which opened up all sorts of possibilities for disaster as neither Aiden and Pacian had left their home on good terms with their respective parents. Words like 'crazy' and 'ungrateful bastard' had been bandied around, though mostly by the Pacian’s temperamental father – Aiden's own parents had bid him farewell with cold silence for the most part, and he couldn't decide which farewell he preferred.

  To pass the time, Sayana instructed Aiden on a few simple magical tricks. He was slow to learn them at first, since the sorceress had never tried to teach anyone anything before and tended to use terms he didn't quite understand. To her, magic was a flow of energy through her body, whereas Aiden had only learned it as a kind of formula, gleaned from the dense texts he had managed to get a hold of in the years since his defining 'event' in the cave.

  Wizards studied for years to understand the underlying structures of the energies involved in their work, but Sayana seemed to be able to bypass all of that, and direct the energy around her through sheer force of will.

  It was late in the day when Aiden finally managed to grasp a basic concept that a frustrated Sayana had been trying to explain for hours. It was a simple invocation that would allow him to view the energies of people and objects around him as a kind of aura. The mindset involved in such a task was difficult to maintain, but it was with some pride that he finally succeeded in seeing a shifting blue outline around the girl.

  As the sun sank in the west, the dim lights of Coldstream could be seen only a short way ahead of them, flickering like fireflies in the evening light. The ground beneath their feet was partially frozen, and the rain that seemed to be following them around had turned to snow.

  Aiden swallowed with consternation as he contemplated the best way to greet his parents, something he'd been meaning to think about during the day. He felt Sayana's hand squeeze his reassuringly, which was odd, considering she faced a far graver threat in the lands to the south.

  “I have to tell you, I'm not looking forward to this,” Pacian muttered, appearing to Aiden's right out of the thickening shadows. “I've half a mind to sleep outside of town and skip this unpleasantness altogether.”

  “I know what you mean,” Aiden agreed, running a hand through his thick black hair. “It's been a couple of months though, so hopefully they've had time to calm down.”

  “Speak for your own parents,” Pacian scoffed. “My dad's either glad I was gone or he's been sharpening his axe this whole time, awaiting my return. All I can say is the first sign of trouble from my old man, and I’ll be gone. We've got enough to deal with without that bastard trying to kill me again.”

  “Give him a chance, Pace,” Nellise said, having dropped back to see what the discussion was about. “Perhaps your absence has given him time to think things over with a clear head.” Pacian gave her a considering look for a long moment before replying.

  “Okay, I'll try it your way. Stick with me, and we'll see just how far being nice will go.”

  “If you go into this expecting a bad outcome,” Nellise counselled, “you're probably going to get what you wish for.”

  “I'm going to be civil, and not say or do anything to provoke him,” Pacian replied evenly. “If he has a go at me for that, then is it really my fault? His attitude counts just as much as mine, Nel.”

  “True,” she conceded. “Just give him a chance, is all I'm asking.”

  “That's the plan,” Pacian winked.

  The main road ran right through Coldstream, whose population was only just above the two hundred mark. Bracksford had more people living in the surrounding area overall, but they were spread out over the farms surrounding the central town. Coldstream was clustered together and as its name suggested, it was always cold, even in summer, due to the altitude and the proximity of the nearby Highmarch Mountains.

  Wood smoke hung over the street as they pressed on, passing by the low brick wall that marked the outskirts of town where they encountered two nervous looking guardsmen, who issued the customary challenge before waving the group through.

  “We're leaving here at first light tomorrow, so I recommend you get some rest,” Colt advised. “By tomorrow evening, we'll be in enemy territory and there won't be room for mistakes. I'm headed to the inn and I'm getting my own room. I’ll see you out the front at first light.” With that, he turned and stalked off across the snow-covered ground in the direction of the large building a bit further along the street.

  “Succinct, as always,” Nellise sighed. “His message is pertinent, even though uncouth in the delivery. Sayana and I will take a room at the inn, and I suspect you two will do the same?”

  “Well...” Aiden hedged. “Maybe. I think I'll stop by and see my family while I'm in town.”

  “You should,” Nellise agreed, “I'm sure your mother is worried about you. Pacian is going to see his father, isn't that right Pace?”

  “Oh yes, we're going to have a meaningful dialog,” Pacian replied flatly. “Just be ready to call the guards when you hear the bloodthirsty screams later on.”

  “Then it's settled,” Nellise said, ignoring his pessimism. “We will see you both tomorrow morning. Come along Sayana, these gentlemen have important affairs to attend to.” Nellise turned and followed Colt towards the inn, with Sayana reluctantly following along behind, giving Aiden a last forlorn look as she left him to his 'affairs'.

  He had briefly considered bringing her along as a kind of diversion, but this was likely to be an awkward, if memorable meeting, and Sayana probably wouldn't enjoy watching Aiden and his parents fight.

  “I guess I'll see you at the inn later,” Pacian sighed, resigned to his own reunion. “Promise me there’ll be drink.”

  “I suspect we'll both need it,” Aiden agreed. “Good luck, and keep him away from any sharp objects.” Pacian barked out a cynical laugh, and then headed off along a side street towards his family home.

  Coldstream was a picturesque place, and one could even go so far as to call it 'quaint', if one were so inclined. Snow covered every surface, and with the oil lanterns hanging from street poles providing soft illumination across the frozen landscape, some might even call the scene 'breathtaking'.

  The Wainwright family home was near the centre of town, an appropriate place to attract customers for his father's business. He worked out of a large shed that had been added long before Aiden had been born, and produced the wagons and wa
ins that merchants and common folk alike used to move their various cargoes around the countryside.

  Approaching the house, Aiden could see the lights were still on in the workshop, and the faint but distinctive sounds of hammering could be heard, sounds that brought back pleasant memories of his childhood.

  Aiden hesitated, standing in the street, oblivious to the snow swirling around him as he recalled the last 'conversation' with his father and how unpleasant it was. He almost faltered and walked away at the memory, but then scolded himself and decided to soften the impact of the encounter by talking with his mother first. The warm, inviting light coming from the house proper beckoned him forwards, and before he knew it, he had knocked softly on the front door.

  It opened a few moments later and before him stood his mother, her mouth agape at the sight of her son. A moment after that, Aiden was engulfed in a crushing hug, which he gratefully returned.

  “Aiden, it's so good to see you again,” she whispered, pulling back from the embrace to examine her son with tears of relief in her careworn blue eyes. “We've been so worried about you.”

  “I'm fine,” Aiden assured her, “you needn't have worried.”

  “I'm your mother Aiden, it's what I do,” she informed him with a wan smile. “Please, come in out of the cold, you must be freezing.” Aiden stepped inside, grateful for the blazing fireplace that took the chill out of the air. The familiar surroundings of his childhood home put him at ease, and for a few moments it was like he had never left.

  “What is all this?” his mother asked, gesturing at his equipment, and in particular, the sword hanging from his hip. “Have you joined the army?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Aiden hastily replied, taking off his leather gloves to warm his hands over the fire. “It's a bit dangerous out there at the moment, and it pays to have some protection.”

  “Don't lie to your mother,” she said dryly, closing the door. “You're still chasing answers to that cave, aren't you?” Aiden never could get away with lying to his parents, and his mother in particular had a knack for sniffing out the truth.

  “You know how important it is to me,” he replied sombrely, quietly disappointed that the relief of a warm welcome had turned sour so quickly. There was a long, awkward pause between them, the memory of their last meeting still fresh in their minds.

  “Well, you're home now at least,” she sighed, walking back into the kitchen to tend to the pot of stew that bubbled over a little stove. “We shall talk with your father and resolve this nonsense once and for all, and you can put that sword away and things can get back to normal.” Aiden looked over at her, busily preparing the evening meal, trying to pretend everything was the way it had been a few months ago.

  “He's not staying,” came the voice of his father from a nearby doorway across the room. The door connected to the workshop outside and he stood there, looking at Aiden, his expression unreadable as he wiped his hands with a rag. He was taller than Aiden, with broad shoulders and dark hair that was greyer than the young man remembered, framing an honest face unaccustomed to deception. “Aiden is just passing through, isn't that right son?”

  “Dad's right, I'm on my way south with some allies,” he said. “We're going to be assisting the local militia with the akoran problem.” Aiden's mother looked up at him, aghast.

  “I thought you said you hadn't joined the army?”

  “I've been up to Culdeny recently and tried to get the mayor to send down some more patrols to this region,” he explained,” but they're short-handed everywhere. The threat down here is very real, and we're trying to remove that threat before they escalate their attacks. I'm trying to defend the town, but I’m doing it on my own terms.”

  “Show her some respect, Aiden,” his father cautioned. “Your mother has been worried sick about you.”

  “I apologise, but it's all true,” Aiden replied, not backing down. “I came by as a courtesy, to let you know I'm okay, that's all.”

  “But you're not okay,” his father remarked, stepping closer and giving the young man the same examination his mother had done. “You're decked out for war, and that blade on your hip is as sharp as they come, if I'm any judge of workmanship. I take it you've been practising?”

  “After a fashion,” Aiden answered evasively. His father nodded to himself, looking straight at his son for a long moment, then turned and walked back out to the workshop. Aiden sighed quietly, recognising his father's usual response to bad news, which was to focus on his work.

  “Don't pay attention to him,” his mother instructed, “you know what he's like. The two of you can resolve your differences over the next week or so, and then it'll be like you never fought. You are staying... right? I mean, after you finish off whatever it is you have to do?” The hope in her voice was heartbreaking.

  “I don't know,” the young explorer shrugged honestly. “I haven't really thought that far ahead, but I suspect I have some more research to do before I can leave all of that cave stuff behind me.” Aiden was surprised to hear a knife slam into the chopping board his mother was using. She looked at him with something akin to exasperation, and more than a little impatience.

  “Why? Why can't you just forget it and get on with your life? You have so much potential, Aiden, and you're wasting it on some vision you thought you saw when you hit your head. Why can't you just let it go?”

  “I don't have a say in the matter,” Aiden replied tersely, heading over to the workshop door. “It won't let me go.” He couldn't mention Sayana's warning about the dream, nor the golden dragon that awaited him when he closed his eyes. It was with a cold realisation that he came to understand at that moment, nothing had changed here since he had first left. Seeing his father working away on a damaged wagon, while he stood in the doorway having returned from a fairly long absence, summed it up.

  “I think I'd better just go,” Aiden said to his father's back, expecting no answer and receiving none. “I'll be back this way sometime, I don't know when, really. Maybe when I've figured some things out and I'm ready to go back to my old life. Take care of mum, for me.” He couldn't figure out anything further to say, so he turned and started to walk out of the shed, feeling that the inn was probably a better place to stay, given the situation.

  “Did I ever tell you about my old mate Sam Weathers?” His father asked suddenly, stopping Aiden in mid-stride. “We grew up together, south of Fairloch, the Kingswood, though it was before that place was properly settled. Best friend I ever had, and we did everything together, him and I. Explored that forest from end to end, and got into more trouble than I'd care to mention.”

  “We were about your age when Sam got the itch for adventure, and wanted to head south to sign up with a mercenary company. I wanted to go along with him, but my old man was sick and I had to bring in lumber to make enough money to keep us fed. So I said my goodbyes to Sam, and we went our separate ways.” Aiden turned to face his father, even though the man was still paying attention to the new spokes he was fitting to a wheel.

  “A year or so later, Sam comes back from his travels, and I dropped what I was doing to head over and welcome him back,” his father continued. “He seemed fine at first, but there was something different about him. The way his face looked when he thought no-one was watching. There was a darkness in his eyes that hadn't been there before, and when I asked him about it, all he tells me is that he got in to some big battle down near Trinity, and he killed a dozen men to stay alive.”

  “Wasn't much I could say to that, so we drank our beer in silence, and the next day, he left town again. Ain't never seen him since, and I'm thankful for it, 'cause he wasn't the same bloke I'd known growing up. He knew he couldn't go back to the way he'd been before he'd done the things he'd done, and he'd never be the same again.”

  “Interesting story,” Aiden remarked coolly, sensing a moral about to be revealed. His father stopped what he was doing and looked him straight in the eye before he spoke his next words.
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  “You've got that same look in your eyes, Aiden,” he said with a tired voice. “For whatever reason, you've killed a man, maybe more than one, and it's changed you. So don't say to me that you'll come back when it’s all over and settle in to build wagons with your old man, because it's not going to happen. You've chosen your path, for better or worse, and there's nothing that can be done about it now.” Aiden was silent as his father's focus returned to his work, unable to form the words he wanted to explain himself because he knew they wouldn't be enough.

  He hadn't given a lot of thought to the killing he'd done, probably because there was so much going on in his life at the time, but also because he thought self-defence justified it. They were bad men, and that made it okay? Somehow it didn't seem enough, especially in the face of his father's story. There was nothing more to say, so Aiden turned and trudged out into the swirling snow, head hanging low as he made for the inn. It may have been the house he grew up in, but it was no longer home.