Everything had a lock that could be undone if you simply knew the right sequence to enter, the correct symbols or letters or numbers that fashioned its closure, or had the tools necessary to unclench its grip upon whatever mechanism sealed it shut. Even human hearts could be thrown open if you understood how to approach the undoing of their innermost workings. Something easier said than done in most cases, and a gift not always spent on those with best interests in mind. 

In fact, the more unscrupulous a person tended to be, the more likely they were to possess the insight for breaking things. A rather unfortunate reality Eli often lamented, which still struck him as strange considering he was all too keen on taking things that did not, in all terms of legality, belong to him. Ownership, however, was not always easily deduced from a receipt of payment alone.

Take this dragon egg, for instance. Clearly being of the unhatched variety, it still had a nest it should have been sleeping away in, which meant there were parents involved who had more claim to the egg than even an emperor might put forth. Yet, here he was, looking down over a carriage concealing said egg with so many layers of deception even the court magicians might raise an eyebrow in question regarding the overabundance of caution. In most cases, one cleverly and clearly defined incantation of protection would suffice, provided your grasp on magic was of sufficient status. 

Or you had the favor of a particular god.

But, that was a different topic of debate, which Eli did not have the luxury of time to wage with himself at this moment. 

He cast another look over the clearing below, taking in the full scope of the land. Well-shielded by trees, it would be difficult for most travelers to discern from their position on the main road. Though that wasn’t to say it hadn’t seen frequent use. Eli caught the undulating shimmer in the air across the way, where the well-trodden path leading into the clearing had been distorted by another veil. A mirror effect, tricking the eye into believing there was no path at all, no clearing for rest, only more forest with thick-trunked trees and tangled underbrush, near unnavigable save for those willing to take to foot. And even then, looking more headache than the effort would be worth, what with a perfectly well-maintained road cutting right through the Glasterkka Forest. 

Shifting his attention to the campfire next, Eli counted the rise and fall of the guards’ chests. Inhale. Exhale. One, two, three. Steady and even. Still soundly asleep.

“I hope they know how lucky they are,” Eli murmured with a touch of longing in his voice. Before the clouds took to smothering it, the moon had hung high in the sky, marking the night well into the depths of its domain. He should have been asleep as well, but some opportunities waited for only the boldest and sleep-deprived to act upon them.

Speaking of, wasn’t it about time? With a flick of his night-steeped fingers, Eli drew several symbols in the air, all in quick succession.  

Here rise the memory eaters. 

Each symbol lingered for a moment, like a hummingbird hovering, furious in its efforts not to be forgotten, before dissipating in a spiral of smoke. He watched as the remnants of each symbol drifted, movements unnatural as they worked against the pull of the wind and instead sunk toward the shadows below as heavy as dreams broken by the arm of reality. There was a finality to their actions. Eli had always found it interesting the way his words formed lighter than air and yet descended into action with all the full-bodied weight of purpose. 

After several moments, the darkness at the edge of the forest began to ripple. Eli nodded, then turned his attention to the carriage. The head guard paced along the far side of it, his head tipped toward the box seat, where the two remaining guards continued on with their conversation, entirely unaware of the interest being shown them. 

“They’re worried about the vertniell.”

The guard seated to Eli’s nearside shrugged. “What for? He’s bound tighter than a Stone Row merchant’s purse. Barks when the emperor tells him to bark, pisses when the emperor tells him to piss. The prince should be worried about his brother and not some castrated warhorse put to plow.”

Years ago, Eli had encountered a saying in one of the northern territories: those who got bit were those who forgot they ran with wolves. The rumors carried some truth to them then, and the empire’s last Blood Knight played no more than a servant to the crown. Interesting, but nothing new as far as information went. With the arch of an eyebrow, Eli danced his fingers through the air once more. 

Make silent the world to those most keen to keep its secrets and shake her foundations. 

More words hung in the air, fleeting in life, then turned to smoke. Only this time, instead of sinking like skipping stones in the grasp of gravity, the smoke rose until it hit the very edge of a barrier erected around the clearing. This one was a separate construct, unattached to the magic that veiled the clearing with its path leading back to the main road and the one that shielded the light cast by fire from those not within the barrier’s confines. 

Ilmaanim. The World’s Voice.

If viewed looking down from the top of the barrier, small openings would have been seen by those with power enough to visualize the barrier in the first place. Each of those little holes allowed all sound from the outside to penetrate through to the clearing. When seen from the inside, as was the view Eli had now, a fine mesh of magic, scintillating like starlight, sprawled across each opening and filtered all sounds coming from the inside. Only those noises woven into the magic would be granted the right to leave. Eli imagined the typical sounds of forest life would have been part of what escaped the barrier. Failing to do so would create a pocket of silence that anyone looking for the abnormal would surely hone in on. 

A lot of work that once again could have been cut in half with a more concisely built barrier. But Eli saw the art in it as well. Rather than one single layer of defense to work through, multiple had been crafted, each concealing various aspects that would give away the presence of the guards and what they were protecting. 

He watched as the smoke from his magic wound itself around the sparkling threads overlaying each opening in the barrier. Below, no one so much as lifted their gaze toward the sky. The head guard still listened in on the conversation of the carriage drivers, rocking back and forth on his feet as though duty pulled him ceaselessly forward while curiosity lured him enticingly back, and he caught in the headwinds stirred by both desires. As his magic diffused throughout it, the underside of the barrier took on a smoky blue sheen. So perfectly did it match the sky and its clouds Eli could argue he cut his magic from the night above himself. 

And now, he could move without concern of sound and shadow betraying him. 

Another glance below showed the work of his previous magical conjuring. Emerging from the shadows, several sinuous forms had taken shape. Heads angled like arrowheads, with small pointed teeth as deep a black as the rest of their figures and glinting ominously in the firelight, the creatures waddled more than they walked. Not quite a snake, not completely a lizard, but some mimicry made in their likeness as though the gods themselves had forgotten their former creations and tried to recall them from patched-together memories. Their eyes were a milky white, though Eli wouldn’t call them blind. They simply saw the world by its history rather than its physical forms. Only the inside of their mouths carried any sort of color, a red as bright as Fate’s hands. Each was no bigger than Eli’s forearm, though their tails and necks made up the majority of their length. Five in all, they moved slowly but with purpose as they fanned out from the edge of the forest, seeking the shadows of the men in the clearing. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

The guards on the box seat again. Eli turned his attention back to them.

“So, they bind this dragon to the crown prince. What of the others, then? It’s the first one that’s been found since the war. Ten years and not a sight of one in all the lands. How do they propose to handle the rest of the empress’ brood? Like as not, there won’t be any dragons for them!”

“That’s assuming any of ‘em even want the dragon in the first place. Right mess being bound to one if you remember anything from Ember’s Breath. And who’s to say the emperor won’t take it for himself?” the guard seated nearest replied. He had his hands on the reins, though he held them loosely. A scar cut a jagged line along the side of his left eye, pulling the skin tight around the corner of it, though the wound that had caused it apparently hadn’t left the man blind. The gleam in it, full of vigor and fixed on the man beside him, along with the deep chestnut color, spoke against any loss of sight. The other guard remained mostly in shadow, obscured from Eli’s view by his companion. His voice, however, had carried higher than his scar-eyed companion. Younger then. “It’s not like he’s about to meet his grave anytime soon. He’s as good a candidate as any.”

At the front of the carriage, the horses continued to eat quietly from unmarked but well-worn buckets. One of them lifted its head, dripping grain from its muzzle, as a memory eater approached. It gave a snort, flicked an ear, then plunged its head back into the bucket. 

Eli let out a breath. 

The memory eater skirted under the two horses, sinking into their entangled shadows as though submerging itself in water and then pulling itself out on the other side. Its course set.

Two more memory eaters lingered around the carriage. The larger of the pair dipped its head into the carriage’s shadow only to lift it with a dissatisfied flick of its tail. The other one, seemingly taking the hint, turned from its companion and began crawling up the nearside of the carriage. Seconds later, the big one followed in its wake. 

“You, and I, and the whole damn kingdom knows the emperor ain’t taking the dragon for himself. He’s got his hopes planted firmly on Seli. Why else to do think he’s got that blood dog chained to the prince’s hip?” 

Situated on top of the carriage now, the two creatures lowered their heads and, like shorebirds fishing for their morning meals over the sea’s surface, skimmed their lower jaws along the wavering shadows cast by the two guards. Eli looked back at the fire. Two more memory eaters sat at the feet of the sleeping guards, the taloned toes of their forelimbs digging curiously at the shadows dancing over the ground. 

“Seli’s all right. Honestly, he’s got a better disposition than the youngest.”

Eli rose to his feet, balancing precariously on the tree branch that had been supporting him. From this new vantage point, he had a better view of the head guard, who remained on the opposite side of the carriage, mouth poised as if he wished to interject his own thoughts into the conversation he had been overhearing. The remaining memory eater, the largest of the five, circled him now. Its head hovered above the ground, nose dragging through the guard’s shadow as the creature passed by it, creating little ripples that ran through the shadow's surface. Eli lifted his hand and wrote once more across the air. 

Let recent dreams vanish, and thoughts circle back to reclaim what had been lost. 

All five memory eaters opened their jaws and bit into the shadows of the men.

The guard with the scarred face paused. He shook his head and turned to look at his companion. 

“What for? He’s bound tighter than a Stone Row merchant’s purse. Barks when the emperor tells him to bark…”

Eli huffed out a laugh. “Right then. Shall we?”