“I’m still fairly depleted,” the older man responded. Neven had spent a large portion of his magic navigating the trail and singing the four guards to sleep. He had also spent a significant portion of his energy climbing the steep terrain.
“Guard the inner door.” Sol pointed to the door Meena and Ezra had come from. “We are most likely to be discovered from that side. Go far enough that you’ll have time to warn us if someone is coming, but not so far that we can’t hear you.”
Neven nodded.
“Rest. Refill,” Sol said as Neven left the room. “I may need your help soon.”
Sol turned back to Meena, who had not left his side. Her eyes traveled the length of the small storage room in awe.
Every part of the man hewn cavern was completely covered in strings of glass beads. They were in a multitude of colors, mostly shades of blue, and fairly uniform in size. Almost as large as his thumbnail.
Sol had lit the room with a stationary glowing orb, and the glass beads sparkled enticingly in its light.
Meena brought her eyes back to him. “Each of these beads is filled with chaos magic?” she asked.
Sol nodded.
“I thought it would be one large object, like a jewel encrusted goblet or something. These look so small and insignificant. And beautiful.”
Sol had not slept in hours, and he was facing the most dangerous and important task he had ever undertaken. But Meena’s unfiltered thoughts filled the aching in his muscles and his mind. He inhaled, soothed by the harmony her presence offered him.
“We don’t have much time,” he said, reaching for the closest string of beads.
“An hour,” Meena said. “Maybe two, but probably less than one.”
Sol untied the leather knot at the end of the strand and unstrung a single bead. He did not know how much magic each bead contained. Despite the urgency he felt, he knew better than to attempt draining an entire strand at once.
Holding the bead in his palm, Sol curled both hands loosely around it. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply to calm himself and access his magic.
With a low hum in his throat, he pushed his own harmony magic into the small bead in his hand.
The magic in the bead pushed back against him, more fiercely than he expected.
Sol took another breath, surprised. There was so much pain in this one tiny bead. So much pain that had been channeled through an innocent victim.
Sol felt his eyes sting with tears.
His father had been one of those victims. A part of his father was in this very room, perhaps in the very bead he held.
He clenched the bead in his hand.
The part of his father still contained here was filled with pain. His father was a hero. A tall, quiet man who listened carefully and thought strategically. Who sacrificed his life in the hope that his children might have a better future.
Sol unclenched his fist.
Meena touched his shoulder. “Can I do anything for you?” She must have sensed his sadness.
Sol shook his head. “No.” Her calming presence was more important to him than she knew. “Yes,” he contradicted himself. “Keep your hand on my shoulder.”
Inhaling once again, Sol continued to force his own magic into the bead. Very, very slowly, his magic made a dent in the store of chaos magic.
A crackle of lightning snapped out of the bead as a small portion of the chaos magic left it.
Sol jumped, opening his eyes to see the surprise mirrored on Meena’s face.
“That would be the chaos magic dissipating,” Sol explained. He had to take a few more breaths to steady himself before he could channel his own magic again. This time, with each flash of energy that left the bead, Sol felt the tightness around his heart loosen.
He would cleanse this place of his father’s pain, of his people’s pain.
