He offered yet another burst of light and sank within. The internal self laughed at him. What an idiot… What a fool… What a self-serving addict.
He resisted the pooling of water in the eyes. Not in front of them. Repeated. That mantra gave him strength. Good, but there was nothing to do. All tasks were ensured, and Catelyn played the role of a leader better than he ever could.
Yet.
A witness scowled as she passed by. Repulsed. They shared a similar look: brows knit, nose pitched. Huffing. She moved deeper into the cave, vanishing into a left tunnel. They murmured as she vanished. The whisper continued even after. Angry words.
Ron advised the men, the able slaves, conveniently excluding the witnesses. The former were to be the vanguard, the weaker slaves, the protected. There was a familiarity to it. Merrin smiled. They did now what he had always done.
Fortunately, Ron moved in hurried preparation. He wanted to leave soon. Merrin thought, lowering his gaze to the hooded witnesses. No individuality existed there. All the same—a singular whole with a singular name: Sun Witness.
He wanted to annul the phenomenon. Stop the frenzied self before it took root within them. But he saw them. In their eyes, wide, expectant. They would almost die if asked for it. That, they would justify with a belief.
God will protect us. God tests us.
Merrin shut the caster's mentation. A curse to him now. Over and over, it played on the futures that this could become. Anyone could see it. These people. These witnesses were the makings of a plague.
He closed his eyes, drowned in the ocular darkness, attempting to achieve solace. It failed. The sound alone imposed the reality into his mind. He saw all with nothing. I just want to rest.
Ron's voice sounded. "We done."
Merrin half tilted. "Yes."
"Preparation done now," he said. "Everyone go."
Again, voices blended in the cave. Some shrank at the prospect of leaving. They hated it. They wanted to stay.
"We should stay," a witness said, amidst the group. Another agreed with him.
"No," one interrupted, his impromptu hood cascading like splintered saults. "What about the others? Yeimen took those. They need to be saved, too."
"They should have stayed and endured as we did."
"They should be happy to sacrifice themselves."
Merrin was astounded by their words. Terrified, but astounded. These were his witnesses? Creatures that could accept one's death for a purpose. What purpose was that? This had to be stopped.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Catelyn beat him to it. "What rubbish is this?"
She moved past the standing slaves—the men—and rooted beside Ron. She didn't know, but Davos was behind her, leaning on the wall, head slouched, desperate not to be seen. The witnesses scowled at her presence. Open hostility.
She said, "Do any of you have sustenance?"
Eyes scanned. Not many knew that word.
She continued. "How long can you live without food or water?" She stepped against the angry stares, hand resting on her waist. He knew this pained her. And he knew the act she wore. "Soon you would die of either. Or perhaps the heat would consume you before then. Your froststones are weak."
A witness stirred. "The SunBringer can preserve us."
She stared at him coldly. "Is that what you see your savior as?" she asked. "Just some tool to keep you alive?"
This enraged them, and one stood, hand boxed. "What did you say?"
"I ask you, what is your savior?" She stepped before him, almost taller. "Isn't it the desire of the devout to bring peace to their lord as he is to bring peace to them? What you do now is sure stupidity. Something that would only disquiet your lord."
She refuses to call me god in front of them.
The witness was stunned now. Nothing could save him. And Catelyn pressed on. "We leave. We move. And we survive. Together."
Silence returned to the cave. Merrin observed their faces and knew indecision was still present. Now he was to take the stage.
A witness interrupted. "What do we do?" He looked up to Merrin. "What does the SunBringer reveal to us?"
"You unite with your brothers and sisters," he said. "Then you escape with me before you. With me as your guide." He tried to stand. His body resisted. He pushed through. "I renew my promise to you. Stand with me… Follow me, and no one will fall to damnation."
They surged. "And so it shall be!" The words boomed through the cave. They cheered and were merry. Good. Yet, Catelyn looked to him, shook her head, and then away.
She is angry, Merrin thought. Despite her words, it was his that brought action. This stung that doubtless nature of hers.
In minutes, all was done. There were no bags, no heavy carryables: just the few axes, chains, and ropes. The latter having been collected by slaves ordered by Ron, advised by Catelyn. She shone in such things. He admired it. However, she endured the constant stares. Her clothes, revealing, ensured the hard urges of men. Some even attempted. In that, Ron proved more than a deterrent.
The witnesses, as it turned out, hated her reputation. She was unclean to them.
Eventually, the time came. An hour for the journey, but the witnesses resisted. Not out of defiance, but for another. They bowed before him, heads hidden in handspun hoods. A prayer began.
Non-witnesses watched this. Some sighed. Some cringed. To them, this was a perversion of belief. Understandable. If one sought to pray, they wrote in the sand. Not this. Not this act. Even Merrin found himself repulsed by it. But unlike the rest, he hid it well.
Davos, however, in the corner, was unsure of what to do. Merrin saw it. He bowed, didn't, looked around, covered his face, and repeated it. What a shattered thing he seemed. Soon, the prayer ended with a healthy "Halo!" and the witnesses took to their feet. Ready.
Catelyn sighed again and spoke to Ron. Davos stood and tried to mix into the hooded crowd. They found and expelled him. Pushed away, almost escalating to the use of a pierce stone.
Thankfully, it did not. That was good. Merrin was too tired to indulge in motions. Yet, now he required them.
Catelyn approached, disregarding the glowering men. They were invisible to her. She reached him, three steps apart, and said, "We aren't taking the ropes."
Merrin waited for her to continue. She was intelligent—arrogant. Never would she propose an ill without the cure, unless she sought to lampoon. And she spoke, "There's another path that flows through these catacombs. I think it connects all the chambers."
He still waited.
She raised a brow. "What?"
Oh, she's done! He said, "So what's the importance?" Speaking in hushed tones. "Why can't we follow the familiar one?"
"What happens when you lead countless people through an unknown expanse in almost darkness?"
Merrin thought, said, "They get lost."
"Yes." She folded her arms. "And what can be an alternative?"
The question lingered. He thought, found relevance to the teachings of newborn ashmen. Some were given layouts. Vague but still. This pooled back into his active awareness. "A map?"
She breathed. "Now you understand." She walked away.
And Merrin watched her go. Dark torn dress, embroidered to reveal parts of her fair skin. See through. She was like one covered in dark foliage. A warmth bloomed within, and he looked away, beheld his people, and said, "We take the path within the catacombs."
There was no obstinacy to his words. Ruler. Leader. That was what they saw him as. Merrin stepped through the circle of witnesses, sided Catelyn and said, "Let's go."
She moved ahead, through a tunnel leftward. Dark. Four slaves pursued her, carrying torches. As they left, the cave faded into a calm darkness. Lightless. Lifeless.
---
Ivory felt herself a prisoner. Arched within the window frame. Round, legs pressed close. Cerulean light across her face, flashing. Sound distant. She read through the book, staring right out the aperture. The world was enshrouded in fog, wavy mist. Spires peaked out from within that sea of white. Eerily. Beyond that was a wall of darkness.
She looked away, beheld the library.
A large space compared to most places, sleek floors, dark, shelves like hills looming. There was silence here. A welcomed tenebrosity, ensured by the base dim lights; white rays spilling upward radiance. She thought lying flat would drown one in darkness. She thought, but knew the invalidity of it.
Ivory was tired. She closed her eyes. Now she could show weakness. No one was here. Just her. Yet not. A breath escaped, louder than desired. Eye opened. She tried to concentrate on the book, but found it unintelligible.
Who even wrote this? She tossed it. It spun in the air, stopped, hovered up, and sank into a shelf. A mystical air to watching it. Casted things. Often, she caught the allure it provided for the darkCrowns.
Saw.
Some saw it as a miracle. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't.
She saw it the furthest.
Ivory bit her lip, pressed her face against her leg. The back hurt from it. Yet..it was negligible. She wanted to run. She was cornered.
She could not.