10. Owen

Owen

Owen woke to someone shaking him, and he jumped up, his heart beating fast, but when he saw Colt, he blinked several times and tried to calm himself.

"It's just me," Colt whispered, giving him space. "I didn't want to wake you, but it's time to go."

Being ripped from sleep had disoriented him. Owen strained his eyes to see in the dim light of the lantern that burned on the table.

Owen rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then packed up his bag. He looked over at the makeshift cart they were to use for Brom, but Owen hadn't planned on Brom using it. There was no way he had discovered his healing ability just to let Brom suffer. He would only slow them down, and it was possible he could end up dead from being immobile.

"There are a few weapons here," Elian said as he came into the main room from the back of the building. "Mostly swords and knives."

"I'll take a knife, but I can't carry much more than that," Colt said. "I have my bow. I can make more arrows."

"There are a few of those here as well. I'll get them." Elian nodded, then left for the back of the post again.

Owen made his way to Brom, who was trying to get up from his chair, and bent before him, making him look up .

"I learned something new while in the Vale," Owen said. "I want to try it on you, but you may need to take off your trousers."

Brom raised his eyebrows as high as they could go, then cut his eyes at Colt, who stifled a laugh and turned away. "Alright, Owen" —he cleared his throat— "but I don't think it's going to have the effect you want."

This earned a humorous smile from Owen. He and Colt helped Brom to his feet long enough to pull down his trousers, exposing the bandaged wound on his thigh.

Owen unwrapped the bandage gently, but it stuck to the ragged edges of the wound, and Brom hissed.

"Sorry," Owen said. "But it'll be worth it."

Brom shrugged, looking a little doubtful. "Alright, carry on then." Owen held up a cupped hand, and soon a small purple flame appeared in the center of his palm.

Elian chose that moment to come back into the room, and everyone turned to see the disturbance. When the Wielder saw the fire, he froze, then recovered himself and moved behind Colt to watch quietly as Owen continued.

The flame grew hot in Owen's hand as the habit of anger toward Elian flared in his chest. He had to look away from the man and close his eyes to calm down. When the flame became lukewarm, the purple color transitioned to blue. It felt serene, and Owen realized quickly that healing took a great deal of patience. He needed to separate himself from the world, to detach and only see what he was doing. Or else he could end up hurting Brom instead.

Looking at the gaping wound in his companion's leg, Owen pressed his hand to it. At first, Brom hissed in pain, but when the fire burned bright blue and swirled around his injury and leg, seeping in and out, he let out a wavering breath.

Owen removed his hand, and his shoulders slumped as he weakened.

When Brom tried to move his leg, he gasped. He grunted, then stood up. As he put his weight down onto it, he looked down at Owen in shock. "How in the world did you do that?"

Owen closed his eyes and tried to stand, but he wavered and sank back to his knees.

"Hey." Colt crouched beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You alright?"

"Yes," Owen replied. "Just a little weak now."

"Then rest, and we'll leave when you feel up to it."

Brom took a few steps to test his leg. "It's amazing. It still hurts some, but I can walk on it now." He bent down and put a hand on Owen's other shoulder. "Thank you, my brother."

Owen smiled. "You may still feel some pain. Take it easy." He looked over at Elian, who glanced away.

He knew.

By the look on his face, Elian had known Owen was capable of healing. Owen's disgust with the Legion renewed as he thought of the waste of Shadowborn lives and the powers they held. Their ability could have saved hundreds of thousands of people over the centuries. Yet, the Legion slaughtered them instead.

After about ten minutes of resting quietly, Owen felt better. Though he was still weak, he knew they needed to leave. The gray sky was already lightening through the window. They couldn't afford to waste an ounce of daylight.

"Brom, will you be able to walk?" Owen asked .

"As well as I can," Brom responded as he limped forward. "It feels much better, but I may have to take it slow."

Elian doused the lantern light and hooked it onto his bag. "We'll be heading northwest, but with the weather and Brom recovering, it could take us a week or more to reach the fort."

The morning was damp and windy. Upon leaving the guard post, Clove bounded out from the trees and followed alongside them. Owen was relieved to see her, happy she was alive and following them. For a while, they were able to walk with ease through the desolate land. Brom limped slowly along, but he managed to move quicker than Owen thought he would.

They took breaks frequently for Brom's sake. When they stopped around noon to eat, a low buzzing noise surrounded them. At first, Owen thought it was only his ears ringing, as they'd done so before. But then the noise grew louder, making them all glance around.

Clove got to her feet and growled at whatever was coming.

Fog rolled in through dead trees and brush, and when Owen looked up, he saw something big flying overhead. Black crow feathers drifted down.

Shirkh.

"What is it?" Elian asked.

"Some kind of monster who wants to kill everyone but me," Owen replied with a ragged breath. He glanced at Colt, who instantly knew.

Brom and Elian readied their weapons.

"Keep low," Colt told them.

When the monstrous bird circled above, Owen caught sight of its sharp beak and pale eyes. As it swept nearer, fire spiraled from Owen's hands, grazing the creature and making it squeal .

When the bird flew out of sight, something sounded from behind them—the sound of clanging armor and the shing of steel. They turned as several Arroki soldiers emerged from the fog.

Owen's fire coiled around them, dazing them, while Elian used his Core to push them back. Colt and Brom followed up and finished them off. Then more came forward, and they cut the others down. Clove growled as she dragged one to the dirt, biting the Arrok's jugular until her fur was stained black. The Arroki grunted and growled, falling easily after every blow.

Above them, Shirkh called out again, shrieking through the murky sky. They kept low, bracing for more soldiers, but there were no more. As Shirkh swooped down, Colt nocked an arrow against his bowstring while Brom and Elian ducked. The arrow flew out but missed the crow.

When the flying monster came back around, Owen grabbed hold of it with his Essence. It was massive, and he wasn't sure how long he would be able to hold it. His arms shook as his energy drained, but at least he had managed to slow the bird down.

"You can ease off, Owen," Elian told him, coming up beside him. "I'll take care of it."

"If I let go…" Owen seethed.

"Let me handle it."

Owen didn't want to trust the Wielder, but his strength was faltering. He had to let the man take over.

Letting go of the flying beast, Owen pulled Colt to the ground with him to get them out of harm's reach. Then Elian and Clove stepped in front of them, ready to take the bird on.

As the giant crow cawed and came at them, blue spirals of electricity shot out from the Core and surrounded the monster. It called out again, a high-pitched scream that nearly made Owen cover his ears. The bird flapped its large wings fitfully before crashing onto the ground behind them with a boom .

Smoke curled around the crow's massive body, and at first, Owen thought Elian had killed the thing. But when it began to move, he scrambled to his feet and held up his hand in case he needed to use his Essence.

Clove came forward and growled at the crow as it shifted and ruffled its feathers. The creature faltered, fanning its wings out as if it were injured. Then Owen heard a voice in his head.

"The God of Shadow will find you, Shadowborn. Once he uses you for your purpose, the Arroki will march in his name and wipe out great cities, beginning with his sister's dwelling."

Rather than speak to this thing directly, Owen pushed his thoughts out with his Essence without thinking, "What does your god want to use me for?"

The crow opened his beak and let out a squeaky hiss. "I have only come to collect you."

"I won't be taken so easily."

Before Shirkh said more, he suddenly flapped his wings, which caused a mighty gust of air to swirl around them. Owen's purple flame ignited in his hand, ready to strike, and Elian stood beside him, the electricity coiling away from his Core. The crow took off just as they both released their power. They managed to catch fire to the crow's feathered tail, and it screeched as it tried to stay in flight. Then it disappeared into the fog.

Owen let out a breath and glanced at Elian's Core as the Wielder lowered it. It was strange to be using his own Essence alongside it. When Clove trotted up to him, Owen petted her soft head.

"Good girl," he told her .

"What was that?" Brom asked, panting as he got up from the ground.

"Shirkh," Colt said. "We met him in the Vale. He's one of Mordren's devout followers. Can change his shape."

"Wonderful." Elian glanced at the sky briefly before he wiped his Core off and placed it in his pouch.

Owen narrowed his eyes as he inspected one of the dead Arroki. "These things are supposed to be dead. They were brought to life by Mordren. We saw it. Spirits that floated in the Vale, they went inside these… corpses. That's what's fueling them."

"But they're dead now?" Brom looked puzzled.

"Yes. They bleed. See?" Owen pointed at the black blood pooling out of one and winced. "They can be killed. I think the souls inhabiting them must go back to the Vale. But as long as there are more corpses to inhabit, they can keep coming back to the battlefield." He clenched his teeth as he thought of Shirkh's words. "Shirkh spoke to me in my mind."

Colt's brow wrinkled. "What did he say?"

"That he's come to collect me, that Mordren comes with an army that will wipe out great cities, starting with the one his sister ruled from."

The Wielder seemed to be on the same track as Owen, his eyes widening as he said, "Luthien."

By evening, they came to a wooded area and camped among the trees. The night was misty, but they managed to find a dry area to start a fire. They no longer had their tent, as Colt had lost it in the graveyard when the Horgg had attacked them .

As the sky darkened, Elian made them a fire with flint and steel, and soon, they were able to warm themselves amid the cold night. After boiling water from a nearby pond, they cooked a small portion of barley that was in one of the small sacks from the guard post.

Owen sat against a tree with Colt beside him and Clove lying on his other side. His eyes burned as he pulled his fur-lined hood around his face and stared into the flames. He didn't know where they were in Vanhelm, but the Wielder seemed to know, as he pulled his compass out often. Hopefully, they would come into the region of Acren soon.

The Wielder stood near a dead tree, eating quietly from his bowl. Owen hated the man, but he couldn't deny that Elian had kept his word to help them so far. The man was right that he had no reason to kill Owen now, but Owen got the unexpected sense that Elian wouldn't have killed him even if given the chance. He recalled the Wielder's hesitance in the dungeon room in Covehaven. There was a look in his eyes that told him he hadn't wanted to kill him. And then there was the feeling of loss that emanated from the Wielder. Elian had lost someone dear to him, Owen knew that much. He just didn't know the details.

When Brom handed him a bowl of barley, Owen stared at it and made a face. He wasn't the least bit hungry, but he tried a bite. He chewed the mushy meal slowly. It wasn't that it wasn't good. It was that he couldn't stomach anything. He didn't want to eat.

After seeing Colt nearly scrape his own bowl clean, Owen nudged him and handed him his bowl of little eaten barley.

"Do you want the rest?" Owen blinked tiredly at him.

Colt looked from the food to Owen before saying, "No. You should eat it. "

"I'm not hungry."

Colt put aside his own empty bowl and eyed Brom, who looked at him curiously before cutting his eyes away. Lowering his voice, Colt said, "You have to eat or you're not going to have the energy to walk, much less use your Essence."

"Are you going to force it down my throat, then? Because I'm not hungry. And I feel fine." It wasn't entirely true, but Owen didn't know how to express that he felt more worn down in his mind than in his body.

The muscles in Colt's jaw tightened, and Owen could tell he was frustrated. But Colt took the bowl back anyway. Owen wished Brom would lighten the mood with a sarcastic remark, and that Gilda were here to insult him after he'd said it.

"I found some basil and thyme back at the guard post, Owen, and I want to see what you think of it," Brom suddenly said. No, it wasn't sarcastic. It wasn't at all what Owen was hoping he'd say, but Owen couldn't deny his request now. Instead, he smiled faintly before taking the bowl back from Colt and took another bite. Then another, to really taste it this time. It was hard to swallow down, as the queasiness in his stomach made him feel like throwing it back up. But he did it anyway.

"It's amazing, Brom," Owen said. "I hope you'll forgive me if I can't finish it all. My stomach is… in constant knots."

"Just eat what you can. I still enjoy doing this, and so far it's brought me joy to be able to cook for you and Colt. Seeing you try, at least, makes me happy."

Owen ate one more bite and said, "Thank you." Then he handed the bowl to Colt, who ate the rest.

Afterward, they washed the bowls in the pond nearby, and Owen relieved himself before coming back to the fire. As he moved back to the tree he had been sitting at, he caught Elian glancing at him in that way that showed guilt. But when Owen threw the Wielder a dirty look, the man looked away.

Finally, Elian pushed himself off the tree and said, "I'll stay up for a while and keep watch."

Owen shook his head and sighed.

"What is it?" Colt asked.

"I don't feel safe falling asleep around him."

Elian cut his eyes to Owen, his face souring. "What's that supposed to mean?" he shot back, an edge of irritation in his tone. "Do you think I'm just going to leave you all to fend for yourselves?"

"It's not about leaving us." Owen's chest flared. "I can't just forget what happened."

Elian spread his arms out, eyes wide and face flushed in the dim light. "I'm trying to make amends. You're not the only one waking up every day with regrets."

When Owen bit his tongue against saying more and narrowed his eyes, Colt cleared his throat and stepped in.

"Look, we're all on edge," he said. "There's no sense in wasting our energy arguing. The Wielder can keep watch for a while, and I'll relieve him in a bit."

"Alright." Brom grunted as he moved his left leg. "I suppose we should give the Wielder a role, then."

Owen's face twisted into a sneer. "What? Why? He's not part of our group. He doesn't get a role."

"Regardless of whether he's on our side or not, we all have a role to play here until we make it to Fort Arrowcrest. Owen, you're still the scout, Colt is still our main source for food, and I'll continue to cook you all that food. That leaves the Wielder a job to do. "

They glanced at Elian, who seemed rather taken aback by being assigned a job. He hesitated before he said, "I… can just keep watch. And fight. I have the Core."

Owen pressed his back hard into the tree and ground his teeth as he said, "That is filled with the Essence you've stolen from a dead Astran."

The air went quiet, and after a long moment, Elian retreated to stand near his tree again, still within sight of their camp, saying nothing more.

"That works." There was an edge of aggression in Colt's voice.

As Owen settled beside Colt, he watched as Elian took out his Core and looked out into the darkness as if something might come at them at any moment.

His heart beat with unease. He didn't like that Core. He didn't like that man .

Clove whined as she moved, and when she rested her head on Colt's leg, he scratched behind her ear. Owen smiled, then he grunted as he shifted and pulled out the wooden rabbit that Colt had carved for him from his pocket, back in Birchwood. When he held it out in the palm of his hand, Colt squinted and chuckled softly.

"Your good luck charm."

"The first thing you ever gave me." Owen looked over at him, smiling softly, but then he frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Owen met his eyes briefly before looking at the flames. He clutched the rabbit to his chest as loss fell over him again. Sometimes, he could bear it, but when it reared again, it stung so deeply, his chest physically ached. "Things aren't the same anymore," he whispered .

"What do you mean?"

He glanced up at Elian nearby, then at Brom's sleeping form near the fire. "It's not the same without her. "

The realization dawned on Colt's face. He scratched his chin and said, "No, it's never going to be the same. But we still have each other." Colt grabbed Owen's hand. "And we still have Brom. Now we've gotta protect him, alright?"

Owen squeezed Colt's hand. "Okay."

"Lay against my arm and try to get some sleep. I'll stay up and watch for the Wielder."

If Owen trusted anyone in this world, it was Colt. He grabbed Colt's arm, drew the blanket up over them, and lay against him. But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was fire and blood. Death and destruction. Gilda dying. Rem… Mordren.

He didn't sleep.

They rose at dawn, tired and sore, and continued northwest through Vanhelm. They were quiet most of the day, reserving their energy in case they needed to fight. Thankfully, the further north they ventured, the fewer monsters they encountered. Owen was grateful, for he was growing tired of fighting and using his Essence. Rather than make camp when the sun set, they decided to press on toward another copse of trees in the far distance.

The night sky fell over them, and one by one, the stars brightened. Clove walked alongside them, stopping every once in a while when she heard something, but then she would continue on. While Owen trudged ahead, he focused on Colt and Brom's conversation about the emberstone crystal as they walked behind him.

"We can't melt crystal, can we?" Brom asked, his voice low, then he chuckled and answered himself, "An idiotic thought. No smith will be able to do that. It'll need to be ground up and placed somehow into the blade."

"You can't mix crystal with steel," Colt countered. "I'll have to use the tools in the bag and shape it into a knife."

"A crystal knife?" There was a laugh in Brom's tone.

"Why's that funny?"

"I'd like to see you shape that crystal into a knife."

"How do you think I make my arrowheads when I don't have the money to buy them?"

"Arrowheads are one thing, knives are larger. We're talking about killing a god here." There was a pause, then Brom said, "I'll bet you a hearty meal you can't shape that crystal into a knife."

"Alright." Colt said it so smugly, as if he was ready to take on the challenge.

Owen smiled. Colt was right, though, their best bet was to shape the crystal into a weapon. It would have to do. When Clove trotted up next to Owen, he bent down and grabbed a stick, then threw it out. Clove ran after it, but much to Owen's surprise, she brought the stick back to Elian.

The Wielder laughed softly and took it from her, then threw it out again. Owen watched this go on for a few minutes until he narrowed his eyes on the man.

"She seems to like you," he said.

Glancing over, Elian raised his eyebrows. "Oh, well… I love animals. Maybe she can tell. Hope you don't mind."

"Actually… I don't. She's Rem's wolf, not mine." The mention of the Hunter's name put a bad taste in his mouth. "She seems taken with all of us now, though. Her owner abandoned her. She'll need a new one."

Elian raised his chin as he threw the stick out again for her to fetch. Then he looked up at the sky and gestured with his head at the stars.

"There's Eris and Istus."

Owen followed his gaze, his eyes catching on the twin red and blue stars that were always beside each other. "I've always noticed them."

"You know they're not really stars." Elian's eyes shone. "They're planets, like ours."

"Planets? Is that the name for other worlds?"

"Yes. It's speculated that there is other life out there, beyond us."

Owen stared at the two stars, or planets, as Elian had called them. Was it possible there were other people like them in another world? Was it like another realm, such as the Unseen Vale?

The question made him wonder about Elian. The man looked at the sky often and seemed to know when the weather would be bad or clear. "Did you always want to be a Wielder?" Owen asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Elian's brow darkened. "No," he said softly.

Just as Owen was about to give up on any further explanation, Elian continued.

"Originally, I wanted to study science at the observatory in Alacor. There are many fields of study. One that I took to was astronomy. The study of stars and heavenly bodies. Tracking stars and planets, like Eris and Istus, with advanced machinery. They also study the land. Oceans, deserts, even the scattered remains of Enthia."

"Why didn't you pursue it? "

Elian drew in a breath and heaved it out deeply. "I started at the academy, but things went a different route. At the time, becoming a Wielder meant more food on the table."

"Your parents must be very proud." Owen's voice dripped with ridicule. He took a drink from his waterskin and looked ahead.

"Actually, no." Elian cleared his throat. "My mother died when I was eight. An accident. And then sickness took my father's legs a few years later. When I was fifteen, I studied at the citadel in Luthien, and a year later, I left for Alacor to train as a Wielder. I remained there and sent my father the money I made, but he doesn't approve of my line of work." He looked away, as if contemplating.

"But your brother is a regional soldier." Owen turned his head to the Wielder, but he didn't look at him.

Laughing softly, Elian stared at the sky. "Yes, and enlisted by the Legion at that, but regional work is much different from what Core Wielders and even Legion soldiers do. My brother and many other soldiers don't like how the council operates."

Silence passed between them for a moment. Behind them, Colt and Brom talked softly with each other. As Owen dug deeply into the cinnamon energy surrounding Elian, he found a profound, deep-seated pain and a mountain full of remorse. "You are full of regrets. I can feel it."

When Elian said nothing, Owen cast his eyes up at the man to see him staring blankly ahead.

"Your father is still alive?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Were you ever married?"

"Wielders aren't allowed to marry. "

Owen's eyebrows popped up in surprise. He thought of Amias, and it clicked as to why he had never settled with anyone. "I didn't know that."

"Most people don't."

Sighing, Owen looked away. He wanted to get to the root of Elian's remorse. Perhaps it was wrong of him to dig so deeply, but he wanted answers. He needed to know why Elian had been so hesitant to kill him in the dungeon in Covehaven, and why he had also hesitated at the Gate.

"Did you ever have to kill other Shadowborns?"

And there it was. The one thing Elian didn't want to talk about. The question had rendered the Wielder speechless. He didn't so much as look in Owen's direction, but Owen could feel the regret pouring from him.

"Your silence is very damning." Owen's fists curled. "My father was killed by the Legion, in Luthien. I just want to know if you were part of it."

"I know what you speak of, and no, I wasn't present when that happened. I had just entered the academy."

Owen was surprised by the tension that slipped from his shoulders at this news. But there was one last thing he had to know before it was too late to ask, as they were nearing the trees, "You said you came to Alacor to train. Eleven years ago, you were the Wielder I saw in Torke." When Elian stopped and looked at him, eyes wide, Owen went on, "It was you who took away an Astran boy named Brolin, and also his father."

Elian looked away, as if trying to remember, but guilt was already plastered on his face. He remembered.

"I lived in that village. White Oak. Brolin was my friend, and you took him away and hurt his family. "

Breathing in deep, Elian said, "You're right. I took him away." His voice was a whisper, and he shut his eyes tightly, as if the memory pained him.

"What happened to him?" Owen demanded.

Elian licked his lips, hesitating, before he said, "He was Cleansed. I believe the father spent a while in prison. I don't know where they ended up, but as far as I know, they were eventually let go."

This, too, lessened a weight on Owen's heart, as it had always bothered him what had happened to Brolin and his family. "Your glowing Cores didn't exist then," he continued.

"No. That was a technology spawned in the past year or so."

"The Legion made a mistake in pushing you to be a Wielder," Owen said cruelly. "I was there in front of you the whole time, hiding in plain sight, and you had no idea. And then you chased me across two countries… just to fail."

They both stared at each other. Elian seemed at a loss for words. And then Owen got the overwhelming sense that this man was too broken in his mind to retaliate. Perhaps Owen wanted to see how far he could go.

"That's enough, Owen," Brom said, coming up to them and breaking him from his thoughts. "We should make camp and rest."

Owen clenched his teeth and backed away. He hadn't realized Colt and Brom had been listening to their conversation. He tore himself away from Elian's presence and made his way to the edge of the trees. Colt followed quickly behind him and gently grabbed his arm to turn him around.

"Hey," Colt started, his face etched with concern. "You okay? "

"Yes, just a cordial conversation, that's all," Owen snapped, then he sighed and put a hand to his head. "I'm sorry, Colt. I'm not angry at you. It's the Wielder."

"You need to get your mind off some things. Why don't you come with me in the morning and we'll hunt something?" Colt put his finger beneath Owen's chin and lifted it. He cocked his head, gazing at Owen in the moonlight. "Together?"

Owen blinked at him, his heart finding its warmth and rhythm once again. Nodding, he said, "Alright."