The sun was low, casting over the training yards a diffuse orange. Zephyr alone stared at his hands, which slightly-and very uncharacteristically-shook. That was not from physical exertion, but this incessant pull of uncertainty that had taken a seat in his mind since the Guild's confrontation with Kieran. Memories of the betrayal weighed heavy upon him, gnawing on his resolution and making every step seem a risk taken after some sort of multiple-solution theorem.
Mira had tried to talk with him since it happened, but he had needed his silent solace-protection of his own thoughts. She'd said it was right, the only way; Zephyr couldn't get rid of the picture of Kieran-mentor and friend-who was now gone in that abyss. He had been right there, on the edge of it all, standing at the precipice.
And should Keirán fall, what did that say then of Zéphyr? At the head of the Abyss, or just delaying the inevitable plunge into chaos?
His hand tightened on the hilt of his shadow blade, the weapon of dark energies running in him that he had forged. He could feel the Abyss stir, a living thing waiting for him, almost patiently biding its time until he finally broke. The whispers of Kael'thar were always at the back of his mind, sinister promises sweetly whispered.
Zephyr, you can be much stronger, don't be afraid of the other side of the wall. Embrace it.
It was a tendril of smoke curled around his thoughts, and Zephyr ground his teeth against the insidious invasion, fighting to force it back. Thus far he had resisted, but for how much longer? The power Kael'thar had promised-unfathomable, uncontrollable, chaotic-it was almost too tempting. He could feel it roaring in his veins, urging him harder, faster, stronger.
"No," he muttered under his breath. "I can't. I won't."
But it never stopped whispering.
Restless, the Guild was that night, suspicion and doubt hanging in the air like fog, as cheerful comradery amongst the Initiates turned cold, hard stares after their altercation with Kieran; tales of whispers around every corner of the halls. Even Mira drew inward, though Zephyr knew she understood-perhaps most of any-what he was up against.
She found him in the common room, seated in a chair by the fire-place, the dancing licks of the fire casting flickering shadows on his face. There was softness to her eyes as she looked at him, filled with that same unyielding support she had always given him, yet mixed in now was something else, an understanding that had not been there before.
"I know you are struggling," she said; her tone was soft but firm. "But you need to learn to trust what you did was right. Kieran-he made his choice. And so did you. You chose the Guild. You chose to stand against the Abyss, not with it."
Zephyr didn't answer, couldn't, still reeling from what had happened last night: Kieran standing before the Guild's Council, his power twisted corrupted beyond recognition. He had fought to protect the Guild, to protect Mira, to protect everything that mattered in the world. But the truth was he had long since belonged to the Abyss. And now it wanted Zephyr.
"There's something you need to see," Mira said, her voice softer as she leaned forward, laying her hand on his. "Alistair's called the Council together to talk next steps. They're spooked that Kieran's influence will spread. That others in the Guild could've been tempted by the same power he sought."
Zephyr's heart stuttered in his chest. "Other Conduits? Who?
Mira's eyes darkened. "I don't know, but Alistair said they are searching for portents. They think if they can catch it in time, then they will be able to stop it. Before more fall to the Abyss."
Zephyr straightened, the weight of the news upon his chest. The Guild balanced on the edge of collapse, pulled asunder by whispers of proscribed power, secrets, and betrayal. In the middle of such a mess, Zephyr knew a choice had to be made: to cling on for dear life to the Guild or to follow the path Kieran took.
He trailed Mira through the halls, footsteps loud in the silence. The Council's chambers lay at the very back of the Guild's compound-a place of high stone walls and heavy doors. As they closed in, a knot twisted in Zephyr's gut. Whatever was to come from this meeting, it wasn't going to be good.
It creaked open, and in strode Alistair with a few senior Conduits. They sat around a long, dark-wood table, faces grim and eyes heavy with the weight of their decisions.
Alistair stood upon their entrance, his eyes locking with Zephyr's in sadness and resolution. "Zephyr, Mira. Come in. We have much to discuss."
Mira stood, next to Zephyr, a comforting presence against the weight of the atmosphere that dropped into the room. The other Conduits looked to them all with expressions ranging from curiosity and suspicion to concern. They all had known the weight he carried-after all, he had been Kieran's closest disciple-and if anyone could understand just how deeply serious it was, it would be him.
"I've just finished speaking with the Council," Alistair said, continuing. "And we have reason to suspect that Kieran's fall was part of a greater pattern. There are whispers amongst the senior Conduits—rumors that others were following the same course. Seeking the power of the Abyss, just like Kieran did."
Zeph's gut twisted. He'd heard the whispers, felt the pull of the Abyss himself; to think others-people he knew, people he trusted-might be tempted by the same darkness… it was too much to bear.
Mira spoke-a firmness to her tone, but a trace of worry etched into it. "What are we going to do about it? We can't just sit here and wait for more Conduits to fall. We need to stop it before it spreads."
Alistair nodded. "That's what we do. We mount a hunt. A search for any signs of corruption, any traces of Abyssal energy. We have to root it out before it takes hold of any more of our own."
Zephyr's fists clenched in. It was too terrifying to consider, that he would hunt down those who may fall to the Abyss. But a choice, really, did not exist. What would be the consequences of allowing this darkness to keep on spreading? Unthinkable.
"I'm in," Zephyr said firmly. "I'll help. I won't let the Abyss take anyone else."
She looked into his eyes, so full of pride and concern. "We shall do it together," she whispered. "We will not let it consume us."
A few seconds later, the room fell silent as the weight of the decision weighed upon them. No more were they Initiates, no more students of the Guild; finally they were facing the front line, directly in the face of the real darkness of the Abyss.
This was the feeling with which he had left the Council chambers-he could not shake it off-as if this was only a beginning, as if those tenuous shadows were closing in and no person would ever be safe again-no person, yes.
Yet amidst it all, there still were the whispers of Kael'thar in his head-sweet, beguiling whispers tempting him to let go to the Abyss, take its power, and reshape the world anew. Zephyr would feel the call, feel it like a fire that had seared his soul. But for now he resisted. For now, he would stand firm.
But, like the whispers, one question hung in his mind: How much longer could he hold out?