A shudder racks Felix’s whole body. “That sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie that’s going to lead to disaster.”
My mouth quirks with bitterness. “More disaster than the destruction of our whole dimension?”
He pulls a face. “Good point. So what happened then?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” I confess. “I wanted to accept what I’d been taught and told and let it go, but it kept going around and around in my head, for weeks. Eventually, I decided that I needed to find proof that the soldiers had been wrong. That they’d been told lies about Éibhear and our people so they wouldn’t question their orders to persecute us.Iknew the truth, and I knew that someone in their chain of command had to know it too. So I came up with an excuse for a scouting mission and sneaked into the nearest enemy settlement to see what I could find out.”
“Of course you did.” Felix shakes his head, but he’s… smiling? I’m so confused. “What did you find out?”
I stare into the space over his shoulder, my eyes seeing nothing but memories. “The truth. I’d thought to go to the barracks and see if I could break into someone’s office—my plan wasn’t well thought-out—but I happened to walk past a library, and it seemed like a good way to confirm whether life outsideshields had ever been possible.” I pause for a moment to gather my thoughts. “Do you know about the living archive?”
His brow furrows. “Uh… no?”
“It’s very complicated spellwork that I don’t fully understand myself,” I admit, “but basically, when an elf or dragon moves on to the etheric plane, their knowledge and memories are automatically uploaded to a… a magic database, I suppose. It can be accessed by several of our people—archivists—who are selected by the life force the same way our species leaders are.”
Felix’s jaw drops open. “No way,” he breathes. “That’s fucking amazing.”
I smile, because itis. “I didn’t know about it until the day I walked into that library in what I considered enemy territory. Éibhear’s followers had no access to the living archive—I learned much later that one of them had been an archivist, but that the life force cut them off when they made the choice to align with him.
“That day in the library, I found a whole section on history, with more books and scrolls than I could easily count, and all of them referred to a world where our people had no need of shields to be safe. Some of the scrolls detailed more recent history—the past few thousand years since the anomalies began and our world started to break down. It was…” I shake my head. “I was educated. I was taught how to use logic. Logic told me that my ‘truth,’ which had no documentation to support it and only a few thousand believers, was far more likely to be false than that which had generations of books confirming it. So I found an archivist, and I asked them to explain the mechanics of how temporal portals caused the anomalies.”
“And they did?”
My scoff contains all the pain and betrayal I felt that day. “They drew me diagrams. They explained where the magic and science interconnected. They checked the living archive for data,and they looked for books and scrolls that would help me understand the more esoteric physics of it. At the end, when I was sitting there surrounded by all their helpful materials that had smashed my reality, I asked them if they remembered the world before shielding was needed. And they patted my hand, sympathetic because I’d never gotten to experience it, and told me stories.” I can’t stop the tears this time, and they trickle down my cheeks and into my beard. “I was so angry when I went home, Felix. I was angry that I’d been denied the truth of our past, but mostly, I was angry that I was part of its destruction. I went to my parents’ home and demanded to know why they’d lied to me, why we were aligned with the person responsible for destroying everything.” My voice cracks on the last word, and then there’s a painful silence while I try to pull myself together.
“They broke your heart, didn’t they?”
I drag my gaze to Felix’s face and see tears swimming in his eyes.
“Yes,” I whisper. “They—yes. My father said none of the destruction mattered, because Éibhear was going to find somewhere else for us. We would survive, and without any of the ‘rabble’ to ‘drag us down.’ H-He told me to calm myself and stop being a disappointment to my lineage. My mother suggested that I should bathe, since I’d spent the day with ‘those people.’”
“I’m so sorry, Ari.”
I shrug, but it’s an empty gesture. “They were always cold. Nothing I ever did was good enough. But I didn’t expect that. Their response was the final thing that cut any tie I felt to that life. I walked out of their home, out of the compound, found one of the king’s patrols, and surrendered.”
The hand I forgot I was holding tightens painfully around mine. “You what?”
“I surrendered. They weren’t sure what to do with me at first but eventually brought me back to the settlement. Someonedecided to send for the king, and I told him everything I knew. Compound locations, patrol schedules, security measures, evacuation plans. I drew maps and floorplans. I betrayed the people who raised me, and I felt no guilt for that, but I was drowning in guilt for the destruction of our world.”
“And that’s when Raðulfr had you swear to protect what was left?”
I nod. “He asked me what I wanted to do. I was so confused—I’d been sure I was facing execution. It was a price I was willing to pay for my actions, but he said enough elves had died and would continue to die because of Éibhear, and he wouldn’t contribute to the death toll. The only career I’d known was that of a soldier, so I asked to continue that, and I swore my life in service to my people.” I finish somewhat abruptly. That’s it, the whole story, a story I’ve never told but that has owned me for thousands of years.
Felix sighs. “Who knows about your past? You said only Raðulfr, but what about the soldiers you surrendered to? Who else would they have told?”
I shake my head. “The king ordered secrecy. He didn’t want my effectiveness as a soldier to be impacted. They’re all long gone, anyway—the anomalies took them.”
“Okay.” Felix stops, nods to himself, then starts again. “Okay. So you know that you were brainwashed, right? Indoctrinated from birth to believe what Éibhear and your parents wanted you to. You were isolated from anyone who was willing and able to tell you the truth, and you were denied access to anything that didn’t confirm the story they told you.”
“I-I know.” What’s he getting at?
“Good. And then when you came across information that made you question what you thought you knew, you sought confirmation, learned the truth, and immediately overturned your whole life. You not only stopped supporting Éibhear, youalso gave important information to the king—despite the fact that it endangered you.”
“Yes, but?—”
He lets go of my hand and holds his up. “No buts. Since then, you’ve served faithfully. Your king trusts you to protect him and his people. I understand what you did back then, and I understand why it haunts you, but Ari, it wasn’t a choice you made. You did all those things without the knowledge of what you were doing.”
“Ignorance is no excuse.”
