Borne Rising by Matthew Callahan

Author:Matthew Callahan [Callahan, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732922211
Publisher: Roguish Creations
Published: 2020-04-06T16:00:00+00:00

19

Departure

Home.

Noctis stared at himself in the mirrored wall of the washroom. Preparing to return to Cascania was proving . . . difficult. He’d thought that outfitting himself would be the most complicated issue; even in Portland people would take notice of bladed weapons and flowing cloaks. But the real struggle was not the perception of others. The notion of Cascania, of Portland, of home felt small, diminished somehow. His memories felt hollow, faded.

So much has changed. He took in the face that stared back at him. The shorn hair. The hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks. It was a hard figure. I’m not who I once was. How quickly a life can change.

That was true on more levels than he cared to admit. If he was right about Madigan’s return to their home—and he was certain that he was—then he would once again be reunited with his brother in a matter of days. But how many days had passed since they had been so forcefully separated?

“A lifetime.” The words rolled off his tongue unbidden. For it was actually a lifetime—the lifetime of Noctis. How would Madigan see him? Would they still know each other as they once had? Or would din’Dael’s prophecy ring true, that their opposite Borne forces would overcome any sense of blood ties and one of them would end up dead.

No. Noctis shook his head, feeling foolish. He understood his brother. He understood Shadowborne. He had been Shadowborne. Some fading piece of his memory still felt that connection. Or, rather, felt its absence. Madigan had said it right before they’d parted: Will was something different. Something Borne of both.

But that was Will, he thought to himself.

WILL IS DEAD.

He froze. Since he’d found Morella, the voice had been silent. Noctis stared at his reflection, focusing on his eyes and his breath. He cupped his hands in the basin, lifting cool water to his lips and sipping it. The liquid rolled on his tongue a moment, then he swallowed.

It didn’t help.

“No.” Memories of the horrible thirst clawed to the forefront of his mind. “No, not again.”

He cupped his hands again and brought another drink of water to his lips, gulping it down greedily. This time, the dry tickle was gone. To be certain, he took one more drink and splashed water across his face, feeling the hard edges of the bone beneath the rough growth of beard.

He felt fine. Thank the gods. The maddening pain of the cracking thirst was nothing he ever wished to experience again.

Noctis dried his hands and face and exited the washroom. Ynarra would return soon, hopefully with the requested items. And more wine, he thought absently. It occurred to him that between the endless supply of wine from the Nordoth and the Bottled Embers from the Street of Ash, he and Morella enjoyed a pleasant buzz more often than not.

And back in Cascania, I can’t even drink legally yet. He smiled. Or at least, I couldn’t before.

The smile faded. How long had he really been

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