It’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to meIt’s about time you started listening to me

Aleks gasped aloud and stumbled as the memory flooded in. He looked up at Kamila and he saw the face of another – close-cut hair, old dark dye fading to yellow. Wide eyes, narrow lips, anger sublimated by fear. A memory itched at the back of Aleks’s mind: She’s LEGACY – she’s the enemy. Now’s your opportunity, just kill her already –

Now just who is that? Raz, is that you? After all these years?

Aleks was standing in a field of bluish mist, stretching out endlessly as far as he could see. Amid the mist, the empty landscape was broken only by the occasional ruin. A bombed-out hotel. A rotten old castle. A pit in the earth where a mud-and-straw hut once stood. The remains of a campfire. A pile of glass and steel and blood.

Under his feet, the ground was solid, glassy, crystalline and thick. He felt as though he were standing on a cold frozen lake, except the ice went down for a thousand miles.

And there was Karla Enok, her hood pulled up over her head, hands half-tucked inside the long sleeves of a warm jacket. She looked at Aleks and he felt fear.

Raz, don’t you remember me? The one you tried so hard to kill for so long? Only I outlived you, didn’t I?

“I’m not Raz,” Aleks said. “I’m Aleks Zelenko. And you’re just a memory, same as her!”

Karla’s lips didn’t move when she spoke. Her face was pale, wan, long and sallow. I’m more than a memory, Aleks. But if she’s nothing more, I can hardly say I mourn that. You remember, though, don’t you? The end?

Memories flashed behind his eyes. Metal sprouting from his body, the Refuge growing behind him, the Words searing into his brain and through and over everything while a thousand battles raged outside…

Yeah… you remember. And you know why this world isn’t something we can truly touch any longer.

“This… world?”

The Aether. It was all around us, once. It premeated us, it made us whole. It was beautiful, glorious. But it was also…

Memories flashed. People screaming, people dying. He remembered the unnamed city, the birds and insects falling dead form the sky, the people piling up as they lost their sanity, and then their lives.

“Horrifying…”

That’s the cost of too much truth, Raz. Aleks, I mean. You’ll have to excuse an old woman.

Aleks laughed aloud at the absurdity of it. But…

“What are you doing to my sister?”

I’m just trying to make her see the truth. She would have done things may way eventually, anyway. But maybe she wouldn’t be successful without me. I have to guide her along the right path.

“What path?”

You’re not going to try to stop me, are you?

“She’s my sister! I don’t know who you are or what you are –“

You know exactly who I am, and you know my intentions are pure. Purer than yours, Raz – you knew all along that I was right. You just didn’t want to admit it to yourself because you thought your ‘freedom’ could outlast reality. The inevitability of human foolishness.

“We’re still here, aren’t we?”

Yes. Because of the Veil. Did you know that the ones who seek your death also seek the opening of the Veil? The return of the world to its old ways? They believe they will bring back a lost era of glory and legends. Karla’s laugh felt wrong, in Aleks’s mind – an echo without voice. Instead they would bring great danger to all who live in this world. and they would call that good, as though the old humanity wouldn’t have balked at all the suffering that would bring.

“The opening of the Veil? But that would bring the Desert back, wouldn’t it?”

They think not – they think that you fear a danger that is long passed.

“But they think our magic is bringing destruction to the world, don’t they?”

Aleks, you must learn something. Everyone lies, and because everyone lies, everyone fears that those other than themselves are lying, even when they are not. Why should the ones who believe you evil, trust a single thing you say? Why should you trust a single thing they say, when they’ve hunted you and menaced you before?

“Why should I trust a single thing you say, when you’re eating away at my sister’s mind from within? You’re just a memory – you’re just a memory and she’s, I don’t know, she’s turned you into something more than what you are, somehow. We have doctors for this – they’ll fix her!”

There’s no fixing me, boy. The wind whipped around Aleks, filling his ears with noise, but all the sound of it couldn’t cut through Karla Enok’s voice. And you may try to remove me, like I’m some mental disease, all you like – but we both know the truth. Your precious Scrying will not lie to you, even if it shows you a different side of the truth.”

“Facets and faces and angles…”

Yes. It’s about time you

happening to you right now, Aleks?” Kamila clutched Aleks’s shoulders and shook him, and he blinked rapidly, feeling the stinging burn in his eyes as his tears welled up. “Aleks? Aleks?” She waved a hand in front of his face.

Aleks caught the hand and pushed it aside, staring up at Kamila. Her face was full of concern as she looked down at him. “Aleks, what’s wrong?”

Aleks blinked. “I… what happened? I think I spaced out for a little while…”

“Yeah, I’ll say!” Kamila shouted. “You were standing there stiff and still, like you were – I don’t know, like you were having a seizure or something! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Aleks said, brushing away Kamila’s hand as he walked past her. “I’m sorry for troubling you. I’ll go now.”

“No, hold on!” Kamila grabbed Aleks from behind, and he pulled free. Though it was a momentary struggle – he had definitely lost some of his strength in the past season. “Hold on!” Kamila shouted. “At least promise me you’ll tell a doctor about this.”

“Oh, I will,” Aleks said. “Don’t worry about that.” And he opened the door. “Kamila, please don’t worry too much about me. You have enough on your shoulders as it is. You need to take care of yourself, look after yourself, and worry about others second.”

“Aleks…” Kamila sighed. “You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

Aleks paused in the doorway, stopped, turned back to Kamila for a moment. “I hope that’s true,” he said, and he turned, and walked away.

On the way back to the Monastery, Aleks happened to hear a familiar voice shouting from nearby. It was a triumphant noise, and he glanced to his left, past the courtyard wall of the Reaper Monastery, over the hedges and flowers. Hilda held a glowing red glaive, not so different from the weapons Marga had once pulled out of the Aether and wielded against Aether-Touched.

Antonin Voloshko darted around her, flashes of glowing green that dashed toward her and away from her and toward her again. She turned and twisted the glaive, blocking each strike Voloshko made. The red light whirled around Hilda, and she paused only for split-seconds at a time. Long enough for Aleks to see, for a moment, Voloshko standing still, his blade ringing against Hilda’s. Aleks saw the satisfied smile on Hilda’s face as she turned and whirled and blocked.

Each time Voloshko moved, Hilda was there. The old Reaper moved so quickly that Aleks couldn’t follow or predict his motions, but whenever he went in for a strike Hilda was already there, knowing his movements before he made them. She placed her weapon just in the path of his with the practiced efficiency of one who has done the same dance a hundred times, who knows the steps before they come.

Suddenly, Voloshko stopped and stepped away from Hilda. Hilda began to relax, to lower her weapon, and locked eyes with Aleks. She grinned, and started to raise a hand to wave. Then Hilda suddenly tensed up and raised her glaive. A second later, Voloskho surged toward her, and Hilda held out her glaive, blocking his attack. He stepped back again, laughing. “You reacted a full second before I moved, Hilda! That’s truly impressive.”

Hilda grinned and began to walk toward Aleks. Voloshko turned, and when he saw Aleks there, he nodded. “Well, I think that’s enough for now. You need your rest, after all.” Hilda scoffed a little at that, but dropped her glaive to the ground. It vanished, and a small shower of sand fell around Hilda, mixing with the garden dirt. Voloshko dropped his weapon as well, and Aleks raised a hand in greeting to the both of them.

“Good to see you,” Aleks started to say before he was interrupted by a hug. Hilda spoke, close beside Aleks.

“Are you alright?” Hilda asked before Aleks had the chance to say another word. “I haven’t seen you in weeks – what’s the matter?”

“I’ve just been busy,” Aleks said. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been locking myself inside…”

“I’m getting tired,” Voloshko called out. “I’ll go inside. And see you another day. Why don’t you two go do something fun? It seems like you’ve both been working quite hard for a long time.”

Hilda nodded and pulled away from Aleks. “I have an idea,” she said. “Aleks, do you know the bakery by the walls, the one near all the old pine trees?”

“No,” Aleks said. “What bakery?”

“It’s…” Hilda frowned. “It’s a really nice place, I’m surprised I didn’t suggest it to you already. Unless there is someplace you’d rather go?”

Aleks shrugged. “Well, I…” he almost turned to avoid eye contact, but suppressed the urge. “Honestly, I still know almost nothing about the city. I’ve been closed up in the Sower Monastery for so long, I don’t even know where to go.”

Hilda frowned. Aleks didn’t need a Sower’s power to feel the deep worry in that expression. He shook his head and stepped aside, motioning past where he stood with a hand. “Lead the way, Hilda.”

The bakery was little more than a stone hut with a pleasant oven-smell issuing from it. Aleks got what Hilda got – a torte topped with blueberries preserved since the past season. After they received their food (the baker insisted on not accepting coin from them) Hilda stepped away and said, “Where should we go now?”

Aleks’ gaze immediately went to the walls, to the thin staircase that led up to the south wall. Hilda went up the stairs first, walking carefully with slow steps to avoid tripping or dropping her precious pastry. And after her went Aleks. Once atop the walls, they sat at the ramparts and looked out to the south. On the horizon, the peaks of the distant Gaurl mountains sat over a darkening blue-orange sky.

The pastries were delicious, and Aleks found himself appreciating Hilda’s choice of destination. He wished he had known about this place long ago, months ago. But Aleks was isolated – he knew it, he had chosen it even. And because he was isolated he was ignorant.

Hilda, though? She knew this place. And the place knew her – perhaps even as a hero.

“Hilda…” Aleks said as the vanishing sun in the west cast bright rays over the horizon, even while the land beyond the city grew dark and forbidding. “Do you think we’re home yet?”

“Yes, of course,” Hilda said, and Aleks nodded, understanding.