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“Thank you,” Cyprian mumbled, but Ryneth barely heard him, barely heard anything. He could only watch the drawing while his body filled with the familiar current he craved so much when his mind felt fragile.
On one side of the wall, figures stood in guard formation.
With a sad smile, he traced their shapes. How often had he stood there with nothing but a wooden stick and a promise of coin if he made it to morning?
Of course there was something beyond the Ward.
Raiders. Creatures. Something hungry in the dark.
The wall existed for a reason.
Or that was what they had always been told. In Düren, even the rain felt like it came from somewhere beyond the line.
But in Cyprian’s drawing—
There was nothing.
Ryneth frowned. He traced the black smears and looked up at Cyprian. “Wait… that’s not right. There should be something there. What’s on the other side?”
Cyprian shook his head. “The other side wasn’t exposed to me.”
“That’s not right. There should be danger. There should be—”
Concordant fighters. Evil lurking in the shadow. Anything.
Ryneth glanced back and froze as letters appeared on the white paper.
Nereth solan.
“Do you see that?” Ryneth nearly dropped the drawing. “Those words?”
Cyprian shook his head. “No?”
“It’s right there. It’s—”
The letters shimmered faintly before fading.
“He means the spot above the wall.” Archer pointed at the sky. “But I can’t see letters.”
Ryneth followed the lines of the wall up to the horizon. Yes, the ancient stone wall had been that high. It had divided Düren into two separate parts. One side was the dusty, crowded place where they had all lived. And the other side—
He still couldn’t believe it.
The emptiness.
He grimaced. As if there had never been any monsters lurking in the darkness.
Still, he had seen them. Perhaps not at the Ward, but in that shuttle. By the tunnel, when he had been reunited with Lysa, who might still be out there somewhere.
A hostage.
Like he was, in some twisted way.
His palm itched as if Daven was physically present and goading him.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he confessed. Letting out a heavy sigh, he eyed the sky Archer had pointed at. The lines in the air. That was the outer ring, the storm break meant to prevent Düren’s dust storms but clearly didn’t do its job.
Nothing in his life made sense anymore.