Khalil wasn’t disfigured. His bronzed skin was smooth and unmarred by flaws or wrinkles. As Sophie had guessed, his hair was dark and shaggy, a mess of locks pushed back from his face. He must have been in his early twenties, and the square jaw and sharp features could have almost been considered handsome, if it wasn’t for his eyes.
The pupils and irises were clouded over with a milky white film, a tinge of a golden color shining around the edges. They were disturbingly mesmerizing, as if there were a breeze within them, making the colors undulate and swirl. It was difficult to tell what color his eyes actually were in the near darkness, but one thing was unmistakable. Khalil was blind.
He released Eolisti’s wrists and took another step away from her, brushing off his clothes. Eolisti had stopped fighting back and her arms fell to her sides. She stared at him, slack-jawed with morbid fascination. Sophie found it difficult to look away, too. It was partially because of shock at what she had done, partially confusion at what she was seeing.
Khalil stared at Eolisti with his unseeing eyes until the Anai shifted uncomfortably. She cleared her throat and glanced at Sophie, almost looking embarrassed. “I’ll pack up,” she mumbled and turned away from Khalil, striding quickly back into the tent.
He turned his gaze on Sophie, and she took an involuntary step back. Khalil closed his eyes and flipped his hood back up over his head, pulling it low again.
A burning feeling crept up Sophie’s neck toward her face. Sahl had said that Khalil had a good reason for hiding his face, and now she could see why. His blindness was unsettling and would probably bring unwanted attention that would do nothing to help those he was guiding to safety. Even though he did seem to be able to function perfectly, if those working against him knew he was blind, surely, they would try to take advantage of that.
Khalil stood next to the same rock that Sophie had found him leaning against earlier that night. Joel hurried away, presumably to pack up, leaving her alone with Khalil. Sophie fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. She felt incredibly guilty. Yes, she had been curious about what was under his hood, and not knowing had made her almost as suspicious as Eolisti of his intentions, but she should have respected his privacy and given him the chance to tell them in his own time, if at all.
Mustering her courage, Sophie approached Khalil. He gave no indication that he heard her aside from a slight shifting of his hood. “Khalil,” she said softly so the others wouldn’t hear her, “I’m sorry for doing that. I shouldn’t have pulled your hood off. You have every right to be upset with me…” She trailed off, watching his face.
He didn’t say anything. Sophie stayed where she was, watching him in awkward silence. She didn’t blame him for being angry. She turned to go help Eolisti pack everything up when she heard him murmur, “It’s good that you’re not so trusting anymore.”
She looked back to see one corner of Khalil’s mouth tilt up in a smirk.
“I need to know something,” he began, then paused as though he was trying to choose his words carefully. “Usually, I don’t ask for any additional information than what the monks tell me, but I need to know how far these wizards will go. I need to know why you left Zo’rahn.”
Sophie stared at him, stunned. She’d told no one besides Zephan about what had happened, and no one had asked. She wasn’t sure if she should tell Khalil. She’d only known him for a little more than a week. But, a little voice in her head whispered, the monks had faith in him. Maybe you should, too.
What if he didn’t like what he heard? She wouldn’t blame him if he decided that he wanted to just leave her here to fend for herself. Would he tell the others? Would they abandon her too?
“Sophie, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. I will do my best even without the information, but,”—he smirked—“I’ll be going in blind.”
Sophie almost laughed at his choice of words. After all, his smirk told her his pun was intended. But she still thought it would be in poor taste. Now that she knew the reason he covered his face, it didn’t seem so odd to look at him and see the hood pulled over his eyes. She still wasn’t sure she trusted him, but he was right. He had a right to know what he was getting into. Sophie inhaled deeply and puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled. If she was going to tell him everything, she should start from the beginning. “Do you know much about Zo’rahn?”
One corner of Khalil’s mouth quirked in thought. “Just the basics, really. Information that could be found anywhere. The country’s major exports are magical materials and products, the class system puts those with magical abilities above everyone else, and it’s ruled by a council of seven Viziers. The climate is fairly mild, warm, but nothing like Alkhazai or Omer.”
She smiled to herself. Khalil’s description was very basic knowledge. “Yes, magic is at the very core of life in Zo’rahn. The upper class is made up entirely of wizards and their families, even if some of their relatives can’t use magic. Only about five percent of the population is born with the ability, which is more than double that of other nations due to the selective breeding that the magical families practice.”
Khalil’s mouth compressed into a thin line, but he didn’t speak.
“Inter-family breeding had been shown to produce highly undesired and unstable personality traits, especially in those that can use magic, so the ruling families started branching out to the greater population a few centuries ago. Now the practice has been in use for so long that it’s part of the laws and customs of Zo’rahn. Magical ability can be unpredictable and manifest itself even in those in the merchant and lower classes. It’s rarer, but with a population as big as Zo’rahn’s, it happens often enough. All children are tested when they reach twelve or thirteen for magical aptitude, since their abilities begin to manifest in various ways once they reach adolescence. If they show any talent whatsoever, they are taken and adopted by one of the ruling families or their relations. Their birth families gain wealth and respect in their community, which for many is a great honor, but the connections between the birth family and the child are severed.”
“That happened to you,” he guessed, and his voice sounded wary.
“Yes,” she said, remembering a warm summer night almost eleven years ago and a man coming to her home wearing black robes.
“Only, I was seven.” The memories were blurry and had faded over time, but she still remembered the fear in her mother’s voice, even if she could barely remember her face. “My mother was a foreigner and my father was a wealthy merchant. They moved to my grandfather’s estate after I was born. I started showing signs earlier than most children, and I was exceptionally strong for someone so young.” Sophie smiled bitterly, watching as Eolisti and Joel broke down the tents.
“My mother tried to escape with me, but we were caught, and I was taken away.” Sophie sighed before continuing. She’d never found out what happened to her mother after that night. “As you said before, there is a council of seven ruling wizards, called Viziers, who each oversee a province in Zo’rahn. They and their families are the ruling class. Mayors and governors in the provinces are also typically relations of the Vizier, though distantly and at a lower social standing than those in the Vizier’s immediate household. I was adopted by the Vizier of the province my parents lived in. His name is…”
Sophie trailed off, afraid to say it, as though if she said his name out loud, he would hear it and know where she was. She knew that was silly, but it was difficult to shake the feeling. Khalil had a right to know. There was no one else here. No one to overhear in the middle of nowhere.
“Lau’ren. Vizier Lau’ren Tashiir,” she said, glancing around, but the night was still and silent. Nothing that her eyes could detect moved in the gray and black moonlit landscape.
Sophie took a few slow, deep breaths to regain her composure, and Khalil waited patiently for her to continue.
“Most children who are adopted into the magical families are treated very well since they’re trained as Zo’rahni wizards and eventually marry into the family, but I was different.” Sophie sighed. “Zo’rahni people are highly distrustful of foreigners, and I’m what they call a ‘half-breed,’ someone with one parent not from Zo’rahn. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if I looked a little more Zo’rahni, but I take after my mother. The red hair is definitely not native to the East.” She stared down at her hands. “Most of the children wouldn’t talk to me, even the ones who were also adopted. So, all I had was my training and very few friends.
“About a year ago, the Vizier took notice of me. I’m not sure of the reason, but I assume it was because I was considered powerful for my age. He took me on as one of his personal apprentices, and I started assisting him with his work along with others.” She felt her face heat up, and she moved on quickly.
“The real trouble started a few months ago. There were these artifacts that had just been lying around his workshop.” She shivered as she recalled those memories. It felt dangerous to talk about those things. “They’re ancient.” She rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms on her skirt. “Evil. They take everything good about magic and twist it.
“Magic is the essence of life. It’s used to create and destroy depending on the user’s will, but it’s always in balance. Magic comes from not only inside us but from every living thing around us.” She straightened and looked around.
“Take a stream for example. There is an abundance of life there. Fish, plants, insects, even the motion of the water. Then there are the animals that rely on the stream for food, for water. The trees depend on it to hydrate their roots. Magic draws power from life, the energy of nature and every living thing. We shape the magic within ourselves, mixing our personal power with the energy we draw until it’s what we want it to be. Usually, we can’t take anything but small bits of that power outside of ourselves by force. A wizard can dangerously drain their own life essence with a spell, but not another’s. Ritual sacrifice is an exception.”
Khalil frowned a bit at that, but still didn’t say anything as Sophie collected her thoughts.
“These artifacts are different. They can drain the energy from a living thing against its will, and they don’t stop until there is nothing left to take.” Sophie grimaced.
“For years, the Vizier didn’t know what these artifacts did. He couldn’t activate them. For all he knew, it was just a bunch of junk collecting dust in the corner of his lab, but then I came along. My touch activated the artifacts and I—” Her voice broke. She didn’t want to continue.
Sophie took a shaky breath and forced herself to go on. “I don’t know how, but when another apprentice touched me…” Sophie swallowed down the lump in her throat.
“I drained the magic out of her until she… she died. I didn’t know what was happening, but by the time my master reached us, she was gone.” Sophie gazed out at the moonlit desert, eyes unfocused. Her mind replayed what had happened in dizzying detail. The look on the young woman’s face lying on the ground.
“After everything calmed down, the Vizier was overjoyed. He didn’t care about what happened to his other apprentice, a member of his family. He finally knew what these artifacts did. He had me test more of them. I don’t know why, but only I could activate them. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t have a choice. Eventually, I figured out what these artifacts were designed to do.”
She looked up at Khalil intently, though she knew he couldn’t see her frustration or fear. “They’re weapons. Weapons, unlike anything I’ve ever read about before. They allow the user to drain as much life energy as they want and add it to their own power. They allow the wizard using them to harness that power. They kill everything around them and grant their user the ability to reshape the world, to alter reality if they desire it.” Sophie hid her face in her hands. She felt like she was going to be sick.
“The worst part is, it felt good when I used it. Really good. I wanted more, to take from everyone there, to drain them of all their power. What kind of monster wants that? To kill everyone around them? I’m no better than the Vizier. No, I’m far worse than he’s ever been.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears while her stomach roiled. The memories made her nauseous. She was disgusted with herself.
“Worst of all, instead of stopping myself or trying to destroy them, I just ran. I wasn’t brave enough to do anything, so I ran,” she finished, choking out the last few words.
Sophie tried to breathe deeply, slowly, over and over, trying to find calm. She finally gathered herself enough to drop her hands and look at Khalil again, but he remained silent. She rubbed her palms on her arms again, trying to fight off a different kind of cold that had settled over her. Her legs shook. She wanted to turn around and run from him, but she forced herself to stay where she was. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, and his hands were fisted at his side.
“You asked me why I’m doing this,” he said through clenched teeth, then took a deep breath. When he continued, he sounded calmer. “I was a lot like you once, a long time ago. I had a skill that was being used—no, abused—by someone I cared about to hurt people, but unlike you, I chose to stay, to revel in it, and it almost consumed me. After I lost my sight, it was either leave or let myself be killed by those who had abused my abilities. A woman who works for the same people as your Raven found me and helped me escape. She told me I could either live my life in guilt and fear, or I could use my skills to help others.” He took a step toward her.
“You chose to leave your life behind, knowing it would be difficult and knowing you would be pursued. You chose to do what you felt was right, even though inaction would have been easier and safer. Most wouldn’t make that choice.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into his hood, imagining she could still see those swirling clouds over his eyes. Khalil was about a head taller than she was. “That doesn’t sound like the actions of a monster to me,” he said gently.
Sophie looked away from him as tears ran down her cheeks. The nauseous feeling from earlier remained, but now she also felt a sense of relief, the comfort of a kindred spirit. She rubbed her eyes and wiped at her cheeks with her sleeves. “I doubt that I’m the only person in the world who can use those things—” she sniffed—“but if I am, he’ll never stop hunting me.”
“Let me worry about that.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly, then released her. “Come on,” he said, turning toward where Eolisti and Joel were waiting for them. “If we push, we should be able to reach Nobarum just after sunrise. Hopefully, the ship will be ready to set sail when we get there.”