The Silence of Medair

"Of course. I have been commanded to assist you in all you must discover." There had been no feeling at all in the woman’s voice, and Medair had begun to think the Ibisians completely inhuman.

"One whose name will never again be uttered called on wild magic to resurrect her dead child," the Kerikath had said. "She knew well the ban against her actions, and removed herself to Myridar, an empty region on the northern shores of Sar-Ibis to make her desperate gamble, outside the reach of those who would stop her summoning.

"We do not know if she succeeded, whether the child returned to life. If he did, it was only to die again as the power summoned by his mother cascaded out of control. It takes flesh more quickly than earth. I saw once, towards the end, a man consumed by the Blight. He misjudged his step making a precarious crossing, dipped the edge of his foot into the Blight and literally dissolved as we watched, falling away beneath himself. Four breaths. That is all, from turning to see his son safely following, to liquid indistinguishable to that all around, his clothes and belongings marking the spot for only moments after, until they too were gone, and then the stones he had been standing upon."

Medair had only been able to stare. Kedy, better able to command himself, murmured: "Was there nothing to be done?"

"Nothing which worked." The Kerikath had taken a tiny sip of water, replacing the glass on the table with an excruciatingly controlled click. "All Sar-Ibis knew, almost immediately, that we faced disaster. Wild magic screams aloud its strength, and we could hear and read the danger of that cry, though we could not see what made it.

"It had spread only the smallest distance by the time the first lok-shi reached the Blight, had consumed only the lonely house where the one had wrought her misdeed. All that was be found was a pool of water, so lividly powerful it was painful to approach, yet to the eyes wholly innocuous, dark and peaceful, with a rim of black about the edge. And, just perceptibly, growing larger.

"At first, we believed we could stop it. Spells of nullification, containment, cancellation. We plumbed the depths of our knowledge, and it was not enough. The Blight transmuted every container, even those constructed of raw force, and it fed on everything we tried to use to neutralise it. Soon, Myridar was a bay, a bite gnawed out of the north. Every animal, bird, and insect of the region had fled south and the Myridans with them, and we turned to solutions born of desperation.

"Sar-Ibis is – was – a long, narrow island, at one point only half a day’s journey across. We resolved that this would be the place to stop the Blight. The entire north was evacuated: cities, towns, the cottages of wood-cutters. Even those places which would not be reached by the Blight for weeks were emptied, taken south.

"Then, gathering together all the lok-shi able to contribute to the casting, we shattered Sar-Ibis, sheared off a third of our island and cast it, and the Blight, into the sea."

The Ibisian woman had paused then, taken a deep breath and looked down. Her face remained expressionless, but for the first time the effort in the telling of her tale had been palpable. It had been the only time, in the months that Kerikath las Dona had taught her, that Medair had been certain her teacher felt the horror and sorrow that such disaster should inspire. And, after a moment, that loss of control had been mastered and she’d gone on.

"We could feel the power of it still, somewhat muffled. We believed the Blight to be eating away the remnant of the north beneath the water, and kept close watch while we organised those who had been displaced. The breaking of Sar-Ibis had roused the earth, and it trembled constantly. We had known that we would suffer for our deed, and did what little we could to soothe the land, thinking the worst was over. Then Tenrathlar, one of our most beautiful cities, fell into the sea.

"Forty thousand people, gone in the blink of an eye. And Tenrathlar was in what had been the most stable region. We could feel the power of the Blight expand, though it was no longer visible to us, and realised our peril. Wild magic now ate away the foundations of Sar-Ibis. The breaking of Sar-Ibis, that unspeakable sacrifice, had made matters worse. Those who knew well the land’s humours made their judgment. Even if we could eradicate the Blight that very moment, Sar-Ibis was beyond saving. We must leave or fall with it into the waves.

"Even with the enhancement of every rahlstone in the kiereddas, a gate such as we used would not ordinarily be within our power. Not one we could hold open long enough for every Ibis-lar to travel through. But with wild magic loose, our reserves replenished almost as quickly as we could cast, so it was possible, though a massive undertaking.