something darker. A hero? For some reason, he thought of Sephris.
The First of Five, he thought, and wondered what that actually meant.
In respectful silence, they all watched the ghosts continue their hopeless trek east through the rain, to pray
for a sun they would never again see. Cale gazed upon them wistfully.
When the spirits had vanished from sight, Magadon asked in a quiet voice, “Erevis, do you know if the flashing light we saw earlier is a way home?”
Cale, who had been lost in thought, came back to himself.
He shook his head and said softly, “I don’t know, Mags.
I wish I did. But… things are coming back to me.” “Back to you?” Jak asked. “What does that mean?” Cale shrugged and said, “That’s the only way I can
explain it, little man.”
Jak resolved in that instant to get Cale away from the Plane of Shadow at all hazards. The darkness there was sinking into Cale, soaking him. Jak didn’t want to think about what would happen to his friend if he be
saturated with it. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to any of them. For the first time, Jak admittedto himself at least-that he didn’t want Cale to be this “First of Five.” He didn’t even want Cale to be a priest anymore. He wanted Cale to be Cale, his friend and nothing more.
Jak put a hand on Cale’s forearm. The shadows that clung to Cale’s person coiled defensively around the halfling’s fingers.
“Let’s keep moving,” Jak said. “We need to find the source of that flashing light. It is a way out,” he said, hoping that by saying it with certainty he would make it so.
As if in response to Jak’s words, from their position atop the roof, they again caught the tantalizing flash of golden light from somewhere near the center of the crypts. They could not see its source, but the color reminded Jak of sunlight.
Lightning flashed, casting the city in vermillion. “Jak’s right,” Magadon said, and jumped down from the edifice.
The rest followed, and together they headed through the rain and ruin for the center of town.
As they walked, Jak tried to take Cale’s mind off of the ghosts and remind him of something ordinary, of their life before his transformation to shade.
“It was raining just like this last spring when I had a run of Tymora’s own luck at the Scarlet Knave. Do you remember that? I must have won ten hands of Scales and Blades in a row. I lived well over the next tenday, my friend. I bought five new hats.”
Cale smiled, but his eyes were distant when he replied, “I remember, Jak.” After a pause, he softly added, “I remember a lot of things.”
To that, Jak could say nothing, but he suddenly missed his hats a great deal. For a time they walked in silence.
At last, Cale looked down at him and said, “Little man, do you remember once, when you were talking about the life, and you said to me, “This is only what we do, not what we are?’”
“I remember,” Jak replied, “That’s the truth, Cale.” Cale’s mouth was a hard line when he said, “Not anymore.”
Before Jak could protest, Riven interrupted them with a saber blade at each of their chests.
“You see?” the assassin said. “You two hens are too busy clucking to-“
With speed and strength that made Jak go wide-eyed, Cale batted Riven’s left-hand saber aside, grabbed the assassin by the cloak, and yanked him in close.
The assassin let his blades fall slack and merely stared. Jak detected the beginnings of a smirk at the corners of Riven’s mouth, though the assassin’s breathing came fast.
Cale answered Riven’s stare with one of his own. His yellow eyes flashed. Shadows spiraled around his head. To his credit, Riven kept his voice level.
“If I was an enemy, Cale, you’d already be dead. It only pays to be fast if you see what’s coming. Don’t get sloppy. We both know that all of the dead in this city won’t be as harmless as those ghosts. Stay sharp, just as you said.
You too,
The First of Five, he thought, and wondered what that actually meant.
In respectful silence, they all watched the ghosts continue their hopeless trek east through the rain, to pray
for a sun they would never again see. Cale gazed upon them wistfully.
When the spirits had vanished from sight, Magadon asked in a quiet voice, “Erevis, do you know if the flashing light we saw earlier is a way home?”
Cale, who had been lost in thought, came back to himself.
He shook his head and said softly, “I don’t know, Mags.
I wish I did. But… things are coming back to me.” “Back to you?” Jak asked. “What does that mean?” Cale shrugged and said, “That’s the only way I can
explain it, little man.”
Jak resolved in that instant to get Cale away from the Plane of Shadow at all hazards. The darkness there was sinking into Cale, soaking him. Jak didn’t want to think about what would happen to his friend if he be
saturated with it. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to any of them. For the first time, Jak admittedto himself at least-that he didn’t want Cale to be this “First of Five.” He didn’t even want Cale to be a priest anymore. He wanted Cale to be Cale, his friend and nothing more.
Jak put a hand on Cale’s forearm. The shadows that clung to Cale’s person coiled defensively around the halfling’s fingers.
“Let’s keep moving,” Jak said. “We need to find the source of that flashing light. It is a way out,” he said, hoping that by saying it with certainty he would make it so.
As if in response to Jak’s words, from their position atop the roof, they again caught the tantalizing flash of golden light from somewhere near the center of the crypts. They could not see its source, but the color reminded Jak of sunlight.
Lightning flashed, casting the city in vermillion. “Jak’s right,” Magadon said, and jumped down from the edifice.
The rest followed, and together they headed through the rain and ruin for the center of town.
As they walked, Jak tried to take Cale’s mind off of the ghosts and remind him of something ordinary, of their life before his transformation to shade.
“It was raining just like this last spring when I had a run of Tymora’s own luck at the Scarlet Knave. Do you remember that? I must have won ten hands of Scales and Blades in a row. I lived well over the next tenday, my friend. I bought five new hats.”
Cale smiled, but his eyes were distant when he replied, “I remember, Jak.” After a pause, he softly added, “I remember a lot of things.”
To that, Jak could say nothing, but he suddenly missed his hats a great deal. For a time they walked in silence.
At last, Cale looked down at him and said, “Little man, do you remember once, when you were talking about the life, and you said to me, “This is only what we do, not what we are?’”
“I remember,” Jak replied, “That’s the truth, Cale.” Cale’s mouth was a hard line when he said, “Not anymore.”
Before Jak could protest, Riven interrupted them with a saber blade at each of their chests.
“You see?” the assassin said. “You two hens are too busy clucking to-“
With speed and strength that made Jak go wide-eyed, Cale batted Riven’s left-hand saber aside, grabbed the assassin by the cloak, and yanked him in close.
The assassin let his blades fall slack and merely stared. Jak detected the beginnings of a smirk at the corners of Riven’s mouth, though the assassin’s breathing came fast.
Cale answered Riven’s stare with one of his own. His yellow eyes flashed. Shadows spiraled around his head. To his credit, Riven kept his voice level.
“If I was an enemy, Cale, you’d already be dead. It only pays to be fast if you see what’s coming. Don’t get sloppy. We both know that all of the dead in this city won’t be as harmless as those ghosts. Stay sharp, just as you said.
You too,
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