True Colors

The Emperor’s road was usually full of people. First there are the merchants, hauling loads of goods to the capital for sale or trade. Then there are the nobles, moving to the Emperor's presence to seek his council or attend court, surrounded by their escorts of dignitaries and servants. There are the soldiers, marching to the city to be decorated personally by the Emperor or to relieve those guarding him. It was said four hundred of them guarded the palace at all times. There are the common folk, moving around in families or large caravans, chasing whatever hope or dream they had gotten into their heads. And, lost amid this teeming river of humanity, there was, a small, lone, boy.

Mahir was about thirteen, he had medium length brown hair, blue eyes, and a gift. Or what some would call a gift. He had a Seeing, and a rather unusual one at that. This day started like many others had, with him trudging down the Emperor's road and towards the city, one slow step at a time. It was early in the morning and for a few precious minutes Mahir had the road to himself.

Step. Step. Step.

Mahir kept his head down, eyes focused on his shadow which was stretched out in front of him by the rising sun. He was not carrying anything but the dusty clothes he wore, but to him that was of no concern. Some traveler along the way would be willing to spare him some food and water, his Seeing would show him who to ask.

Step. Step. Step.

Almost there, just a few more days to go. That thought brought him less satisfaction then he had hoped. Mahir was not even entirely sure what he would do when he got to the city, his desire to go there was composed merely of curiosity and a vague hope that there would be.... something, there. Whatever it was he was looking for. But he had nothing better to do and nowhere else to go, so he walked on.

Step. Step.

The sun had just cleared the horizon when he heard anything besides his own footsteps. the soft sound of creaking wood and horse's hooves was creeping up behind him. Mahir turned and caught sight of a wagon being pulled towards him by a pair of horses. Mahir froze mid step, staring. There was a man sitting at the front guiding the team, a man who looked like nothing Mahir had ever seen before. His colors were green and gold.

Gold. Mahir had seen many hues in the faint border of color that he could see around everyone, but he had never seen gold before. Oh, he knew green well enough. During his month on the road he had seen it in countless shades and learned it meant kindness, or at least politeness. A person with green would often be willing to give him rides or supplies. Gold, though, was something entirely new. To Mahir it made the man’s colors look brilliant and exotic. He watched as the wagon approached, fascinated. The man appeared normal enough, he had black hair, a short, gray beard, brown eyes and the barest hint of wrinkles. But he must have something else, something no one else had, to have a color all to his own. As the wagon drew close the man abruptly halted his team and called out to Mahir. "Hello there." Mahir blinked at him still slightly dazzled, unable to think of a response. The man quizzically raised an eyebrow and added, “What are you staring at?”

"Um, nothing," Mahir said automatically, and then he glanced down cursing himself for sounding like an idiot.

The man leaned forward and scrutinized Mahir carefully, frowning slightly. Then he suddenly smiled kindly. "Ah, I see. So where are you headed?"

“The city,” Mahir replied nervously.

“Is that so? I happen to be going that way myself, would you like a lift?”

“I-, Please sir.”

“Hop in,” the man said amiably, shifting over so Mahir could sit next him.

Mahir clambered in beside him. Once he was settled he quickly added, “thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. My name is Kyle. What’s yours?”

“Mahir.”

Kyle nodded and then called to the horses who once again began ambling forward. Mahir had been preparing himself to lie his way through the usual pile of questions that he had learned would be inevitability asked to a young boy traveling alone, but discovered he didn’t have to as Kyle didn‘t ask them. Instead Kyle just gazed thoughtfully upon the road ahead, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts, wrapped in his colors of green and gold.

As time passed Mahir began to relax. Without anything else to do he began to watch the people who were passing by them as the road grew more and more crowded. In fact it would have been hard for him not to, each individuals aura pulled his attention towards it whether he wished it or not. For Mahir it was like the way a burst of movement or a flash of light attracts the eye. That was the curse of his Seeing, sometimes he saw more the he wished to. As the road grew busier Mahir's gaze was tugged from person to person as people moved by them in an unending stream.

Mahir amused himself by trying to guess what the colors surrounding the people meant. He saw a man enveloped by blue and red and guessed that he would be caring, but with temper. That the woman haunted by black was unhappy, but was trying to ignore it. That the child trailing a glowing blue and green was content and secure. As a group of merchants came into view his gaze was caught by one man in their midst, cheerfully laughing. He was outlined by a rippling, dark red and faint shades of orange. The red was malice, the orange was pleasure. Mahir quickly tore his gaze away and back towards his feet, feeling sick, and kept his head down for the next few minutes. That was the good thing about the road, if he saw something disturbing it was only a matter of time until he passed it.

When he looked up again his attention was immediately drawn straight to another rider moving towards them. This time it was a lone woman, which was unusual, but that was not what had caught Mahir's gaze. The woman's colors were a shining mix of blue and a pure, clean white. White, he had seen white before, but only once and only in passing. Mahir watched, captivated, as she moved closer to them. This was this second impossibly rare color he had seen in the last few hours, today was becoming very strange. As they approached he was able to make out that the woman was dressed in riding leathers and was riding a tall, grey horse. She was had short, dark hair tied behind her neck and an energetic face. Suddenly she reined in her horse. Then to Mahir’s great surprise Kyle called out to her, “Zera.”

“Hello Kyle,” she replied good naturedly.

“Did things go as planned?”

“Of course, but who is this?” Zera said, looking at Mahir.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Just a perfectly normal boy I decided to give a lift.”

“I see,” Zera looked back at Mahir with renewed curiosity. Mahir realized he had been staring again and hastily shifted his eyes away.

“Would you like to ride in the wagon?”

The woman shook her head. “No thanks, I’ll just follow you on Shale.”

Kyle shrugged and said, “As you wish,” before prodding his team into action and resuming their journey, leaving Mahir now deadly curious. Who were these people who had colors that were so rare? Was it coincidence that they were traveling together? And why were they traveling to the city? He did not dare ask these questions out loud so the miles continued to pass in silence.

Hours flowed by during which Mahir once again became mesmerized, though not always pleasantly so, by the colors of the people moving past him. It was only when he saw an approaching soldier in full military uniform, outlined by green, that he remembered Kyle. He tore his gaze away to look at the man, anxiously hoping his prolonged silence was not alienating him. However Kyle was merely watching the approaching soldier, just as Mahir had been, looking neither bored nor impatient. Mahir's eyes were caught once again by Kyle’s odd aura, which reclaimed his fascination. It was just so bizarre that he had never seen that color before. At that moment Kyle’s pleasant voice broke into his reverie, “What are you thinking about?”

Mahir started slightly and realized that Kyle was now looking straight at him with a faintly amused expression on his face. Mahir flushed and quickly gathered his thoughts. “Just wondering about the city.”

Kyle nodded, “Of course." He looked at Mahir for a second and then continued, "and how is it that a young man like yourself ended up walking to the city alone?”

Mahir was ready for this moment, he said in a subdued voice, “I’m going to live with my cousin and help him run his store. Dad said I just had to follow the road and I would be fine. He said that I had to go, he said I couldn't stay there any more.”

Mahir said this looking at his feet, with a careful mix of sadness and anxiety. It was an act he had used before and would hopefully earn him Kyle‘s sympathy. People with green also tended to believe easily. Kyle’s response to his performance was to say casually, “your lying.”

Mahir blinked. He said, hastily adding a tone of confusion into his voice, “no I’m not.”

“Oh yes your are,” Kyle said, with perfect confidence.

Mahir floundered, “um, why do you say that?”

“Your story has some holes it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I told you that you could just come up some new lies to fix them,” Kyle pointed out reasonably, as if they were discussing something important, but impersonal. “Try telling the truth. That way you can’t go wrong.”

Mahir thought desperately, with the sinking feeling he would soon be traveling on foot once more. Only a few words had passed between them and he had already lost Kyle's trust. What had given him away? Maybe the old man didn't believe anyone would let their child travel on the road alone. He glanced at Kyle who was merely watching the scenery roll by, looking perfectly at ease. Mahir was abruptly tempted to just remain silent, but no, that would only make things worse. He had to come up with a better lie. After a few seconds of thought he spoke up again, letting a careful amount of emotion color his voice. “I ran from home. I can’t stand it there.” Mahir raised his chin defiantly, “but I really am going to live with my cousin.”

Kyle did not even hesitate, “No your not.”

Mahir did his best to keep his voice even. “Yes I am. He lives on 24th Carper's way and is expecting me.”

“No, your not,” Kyle said, looking, if anything, amused by Mahir’s instance.

Like many liars before him Mahir had learned that the trick to lying was to push the lie just a bit further then the audience would expect him to, so he kept going despite an increasing sense of futility.

“It’s true. I-I swear it on my brother‘s grave.”

Kyle called out over his shoulder, “Zera, is he lying?”

Her bright voice came from behind them, “Yup, all except for the part about his running from home.”

Kyle turned back to Mahir. “Zera has a Seeing, she can see lies.”

Mahir froze, stunned. He had never met another person with a Seeing before. Maybe that explained why his colors were so unusual.

Kyle continued, “Now, I will be happy to offer you food and water, and to allow you to ride with us for as long as you wish, but while you are here please tell the truth. You don't have to answer any question you don't want to, just be honest about it. Okay?"

Mahir just stared at Kyle and his fantastically colored aura. Eventually he managed to nod.

"Good,” Kyle said approvingly, “and so, Mahir, just why did you run away from home?”

It was a question that brought up memories Mahir had been carefully avoiding for the last month. Memories of bitter, black hate, green envy, and a creeping, gray despair. Brutal, desolate colors that were miserable and sickening to look at. Those colors had been in his sight whichever way he looked for days, weeks, months, until the blind need to run, run and get away from them, almost drove him mad. Through all his long, empty days on the road, the many difficult conversations with strangers, and the hours of boredom he had never once regretted his decision to leave. He said, quietly, “I'd rather not answer that question.”

Kyle nodded and resumed his vigil on the road, looking completely unperturbed by Mahir‘s reply. As their journey continued Kyle sometimes began talking again, though now it really was just talk. He idly told Mahir tales of the city, or commented on the various travelers on the road and what their purposes was likely to be. Mahir did not add much to these conversations, but Kyle did not seem to mind his lack of responses. On the way he freely offered Mahir bread and water that he pulled out from the back of the wagon. Close to evening another rider pulled over to meet Kyle and join his company.

This time it was a man, he was tall and strongly built. His colors were gray and silver, like metal left in the sun. Mahir glimpsed a long, sheathed sword strapped to his horse and drew back feeling slightly nervous. On some deep, instinctual level Mahir sensed that this man was dangerous, though when he conversed with Kyle he sounded amiable enough. Nevertheless Mahir was slightly relieved when Daren, as Mahir heard Kyle call him, also elected to follow the caravan rather than ride with them. His appearance did, however, serve to redouble his curiosity. What were these odd people gathering to do?

Towards evening Kyle stopped the wagon and Mahir unhappily prepared to start walking, he doubted Kyle's hospitality would extend to letting him eat an evening meal with them. After all Kyle knew he was a liar and Mahir suspected that Kyle had also noticed him staring at seemingly normal people on at least a few occasions. However he had only taken a few steps back towards the ordinary world when Kyle called out, “Hey Mahir.”

Mahir stopped and Kyle walked over to him. He said, more quietly, “Come on, you are welcome to eat with us if you want.”

Mahir hesitated, then nodded. After all there was no telling where his next meal would come from. And so that evening Mahir found himself sitting next to Kyle and listening as the odd group of travelers talked of places he had never heard of and of people he had never seen. To his relief the others, like Kyle, accepted his silence. And as time passed Mahir began to feel a little less out of place as they let their talk and laughter fall freely around him.

That night Kyle offered to let him sleep in the wagon and Mahir accepted. As he lay along the wooden floor his mind wandered back to the colors he had come across. White and gold, even after a day of traveling with them in his sights they still seemed unreal, as if he had left the world he knew for a new, stranger one. He raised one hand above his face and stared at it. It just looked like an ordinary hand, not for the first time Mahir wondered what he would see if his own colors were visible to him. The question was still on his mind when he fell asleep.

That morning he was awakened to find it was light and the wagon was rumbling and creaking beneath him. They must have started moving while he was asleep. He spotted Kyle upfront and, after a movement of hesitation, he clambered up to sit next to him. Kyle accepted him with his usual kind smile. That day proceeded much like the last. Kyle sometimes commenting to him, seemingly as much for his own entertainment as for Mahir’s, and sometimes bantering with the people who had joined them. This time he would occasionally throw a question at Mahir, seemingly out of simple curiosity. Mahir hesitatingly provided some answers. He told Kyle that his dad managed an inn, poorly. That he had two older siblings he did not especially like. He told him that he had no education to speak of and that he did not really miss anyone or anything from his hometown. To all these facts Kyle just nodded and accepted without judgment. Mahir got the sense he could have told Kyle he was an escaped murderer and he would have just nodded and asked who he had killed. But Mahir always told the truth.

That night they met up with two more people, just as unusual as the last two. The first was another man, a veritable giant, even larger and more muscled then the first man that had joined them. Despite their differing appearances the two of them greeted each other by briefly and silently grasping forearms, the way close brothers or very close friends did. His colors were green and red, and although Mahir found that combination strange he found the other man’s colors far, far stranger. He was a bizarrely tall man named Morgan who was traced by streaks of brown and teal that seemed to twist and flicker in his wake, as if they were not sure whether they were supposed to exist or not. Even though Mahir had been growing to accept that he had stumbled on a group of people who were simply extraordinary, Morgan's colors still surprised him. What possible reason could there be for colors to flicker that? That night Mahir found himself, despite his best efforts not to, staring at Morgan's writhing colors when Kyle asked him, "What are you thinking about?”

Mahir started, noticed Zera’s gaze upon him, struggled for a moment to find an answer that would not involve lying, and then decided to sidestep the problem by asking a question. “Why are you going to the city?”

Kyle smiled, “Us? We are going to the city to participate in the Emperor’s gathering of the court. And we are going to the gathering of the court in order to kill the Emperor.”

Mahir blinked at Kyle, who was looking right back at him with an amused expression on his face, and was unable to tell if he was serious or not. Despite two days of travel with him Mahir still did not know what to make of Kyle, or his colors, anymore the when he had first met him. This group was far from the ordinary, but kill the Emperor? Why would anyone want to do such a thing? Then Zera said something and Kyle turned to answer and the moment passed.

That night, as he lay safely in the wagon with his eyes closed, the conversation returned to trouble him. Kyle could not have been serious, Mahir decided. True, this group was clearly far from ordinary. And true, he had no trouble imagining the man who was green and red and the man who was silver and gray as warriors of some kind. But still there was no way they could seriously be considering assassinating the Emperor. The Emperor’s protection was the stuff of legends and, extraordinary colors or not, these people were only human. Besides the idea of these people, with their bright colors and their kindness, of having such a sinister purpose seemed, wrong, somehow. It was hard to imagine that they had such destructive murder in their hearts. Mahir was still thinking on it when he fell asleep that night.

The next day, though the true purpose of the people he was traveling with still eluded him, Mahir thought he understood why Morgan’s colors twisted so oddly. The man was a touch mad. It was not a hard conclusion to reach. Mahir had been watching Morgan all morning and he acted...... odd. He frequently laughed at strange moments, revealing unnaturally straight teeth. He talked often but much of what he said made little sense. He would mutter strings of what sounded like gibberish under his breath and, when he was speaking normally, spoke with a bizarre, chipped accent. He also had the palest skin Mahir had ever seen. That morning Morgan had spent a full hour in the back of the wagon, just sitting there with his eyes closed. When Mahir had worked up the nerve to ask him what he was doing he had just opened his eyes and said, “practicing.” And then closed his eyes again.

After they had been traveling for a couple of hours, mostly in a comfortable silence, Kyle asked Mahir his usual question, "what are you thinking about?"

Mahir decided to respond like he had before, with another question. He asked, being careful to omit his knowledge of the strangeness of the man's aura, “why... why does Morgan act like that?”

Kyle smiled. “No one really knows. For the most part we figure its because he is not from around here. He comes from a distant place called…” Kyle frowned and called over his shoulder, “hey Morgan, where are you from?”

Morgan shouted back something completely unintelligible.

“Hm. Well there you have it, he is from” Kyle attempted to reproduce the sound Morgan had made and failed utterly.

Mahir chewed this over while, and then asked “so why is he here?”

“Oh, he is going to help us. You see, he is the assassin.”

Mahir promptly let the subject drop, but after that he watched Morgan more closely.

Later that afternoon Mahir heard Jerak, Mahir had gathered that that was the name of the man with green and red, say from behind them, "is it working?”

His voice was smooth, deep and unhurried. Mahir looked back to see Morgan was once again sitting in the middle of the wagon, eyes closed, body immobile. After a few seconds Morgan opened his eyes and replied irritability, “no. It is not working. It is, In fact, completely and utterly failing."

Darren, who was riding besides Jarek, threw in, "tThat could be a problem, seeing as our lives and the fate of this land depend upon that trick of yours to work.”

Morgan snorted and began moving around while muttering some irritated nonsense words under his breath. Suddenly he looked up at Mahir. They looked at each other for an odd moment and then Morgan did something with his fingers that produced an odd snapping noise and said, “hey Mahir, do you mind if I call you 'Emperor'?”

Mahir stared at him for another second and then replied, “um, no.”

“Good. Many thanks Emperor.” Morgan settled down, shut his eyes, and was still once again. Through the rest of the day Morgan made it a point to name him “Emperor” at least once an hour, if even for the most trivial reason. Mahir wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to that, so he just carried on as normal.

Towards evening Mahir noticed Zera and Morgan sitting in the back of the wagon and engaged in what looked like an intense, but quiet, conversation. He strained to overhear but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the creaking of the wagon and the sounds of the horse’s hooves on the dirt road. The pair were still talking when they stopped for the day. Camp had almost been set up when Zera finally emerged from the wagon looking bemused.

Daren asked to her, “well? Did it work?”

Zera shook her head. “Yes. I find it hard to believe, but he really can do it.”

Just then Morgan jumped from the wagon and said, loudly, “naturally it works.” He bowed to Mahir and added, “allow me to present my humble thanks to you once again, Emperor,” before flashing his perfectly even grin and moving over towards the fire.

Jarek spoke up, “doing in it the wagon is one thing, but in front of the palace with the Emperor’s own guards next to you will be very different.”

Morgan waved his arm as if to brush the comment aside. “I have it mastered. I have fixed it in my mind beyond all possibility of doubt. The Emperor," Morgan smile slightly to himself, "could ask me himself and I would be fine.”

“You are sure?”

“Completely. Here, watch. Zera, ask me the question.”

Zera rolled her eyes again but walked over to Morgan. Once she was standing in front of him her voice became suddenly serious. She looked up at Morgan's face with an aggressive concentration, all signs of brevity gone, and said, slowly and deliberately, “do you have any intention to harm or attack the Emperor in any way whatsoever.”

Morgan concentrated for a moment then said, his voice suddenly serious, “no, I do not.”

Silence hung in the camp for several seconds. Then Zera shook her head. “It looks perfectly true.”

The others relaxed while Morgan grinned and said, “of course it does. Why would I want to harm the Emperor?"

That night as Mahir lay in the wagon he could not sleep. His insides felt cold. Kyle had been serious. Despite all the casualness and the generosity of these people they truly planned to kill the Emperor of the realm. He had made the connection. At his gathering the Emperor would have truth seers questioning the people who entered his palace to make sure they planned him no harm. But Morgan could, somehow, fool truth seers so he could get in. Then once in sight of the Emperor he would kill him. Mahir could not imagine how, but Morgan was a foreigner and it was rumored there were strange magics and odd happenings in the foreign lands. Mahir had hardly noticed that he had begun to feel happy, but he was utterly miserable now. He knew that the Emperor was the only person that the warlords that surrounded them feared. He had heard tales of how he had beaten them off and brought peace to the land. If he died the empire would soon fall to its enemies. And the people he was traveling with were going to kill him. How could he have misjudged them so badly? Their colors had betrayed him.

That next day Mahir woke up feeling subdued and anxious, he was not the only one. There was a tension in the air. The men moved with a more businesslike purpose and even Morgan was smiling less. Early in the morning the wagon was creaking its way towards the city. After a brief hour of traveling they arrived at the slums, a sea of crude huts and tents that stretched out towards the grand buildings of the city proper. The wagon and riders stuck to the road, which cut a clear swathe between the grimy living quarters. For the first time since he had left home Mahir found himself surrounded by people. They hurried quietly across the ground or stopped to stare at the company passing them by. Some pressed forward, palms extended to beg. Mahir found colors every which way he turned. Reds, greens, yellows, and grays swirling in his view and catching his eye, demanding his attention. He saw one man trailing a bitter black stagger drunkenly from a home and watched as Kyle tossed a coin to a begging woman traced by crystal blue.

After a few minutes Mahir closed his eyes against the storm of color. It was too much. He could not take it all in yet each one was sharply etched in his vision. A headache was rapidly building in his skull and he felt faintly nauseous. He had been an accursed fool to think the city would be any better than his home, or that he would ever be able to find someone to help him in this mess of people. A longing for the relatively empty road swept over him, but he had a duty to perform. He had a plan, he had to save the realm. He had to save the Emperor.

Eventually they made it to the cobbled streets and brick buildings of the city. They rented several rooms at an inn before eating in the common room. All of them seemed touched with a silent determination. Mahir could see it in their faces and in the faint black that bordered their colors. Any doubts he had had over their true goal vanished. It suddenly seemed clear that underneath their casual exterior they were in deadly earnest. As they ate Kyle broke the silence and spoke to him. “so, Mahir. What are you thinking?”

Mahir’s didn't meet the man's eyes but he determinedly proceeded to ask, “could I go to the Emperor’s gathering with you?”

Kyle looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Do you understand what we are planning to do there?"

Mahir paused, he had been hoping Kyle would not ask that question. Still, no point in lying with Zera watching. "Yes. I-I think so."

Kyle though for a second and then said, "yes." Mahir nodded, surprised and not sure if he should be relieved or worried, he had been dreading the thought of trying to reach the palace on his own but now he would have to try to separate himself from the group once they were there. Kyle's response caused a stir around the table. Then men shifted in their seats and Zera opened her mouth to say something but Kyle raised a hand and they fell silent. “If you want to go you can. It should be quite safe and I think seeing the Emperor might be good for you. But promises me one thing.” He looked Mahir in the eye and said, deeply serious, “if things do go to hell you run straight out of there. You do not turn, you do not look back, you just run.”

Mahir swallowed. "uh, okay."

Kyle turned his head and said, “Zera?”

Zera said in her clean, sharp voice, “he is not sure.”

Kyle looked back at Mahir. “Mahir none of us want to see you get hurt and there is little good you can do to us besides getting in the way. Now I want you to commit to yourself to running straight out of there at the first sign of trouble, or if I say so. Okay?”

Mahir nodded shakily. “Okay.”

Zera, her voice still business like, said, “he means it.”

Kyle nodded. “Good. And in the event something does happen try to avoid getting too close to Daren or Jarek." That being said he stood up and surveyed the group surrounding him gravely. "And now, I think, it is about time we got ready.”

The others got up as well and began to head back to the rooms.

As he left Morgan turned to Mahir and said reassuringly, “Not to worry Emperor, it will be like…” He started gesturing around him, as if trying to snatch the words he was looking for from mid air. “It will be like… like…it will be like stabbing fish in a barrel,” he concluded in satisfaction, flashing his manic grin at Mahir before turning and walking away.

Mahir stared, bewildered, at Morgan‘s retreating figure outlined by his twisting colors. How could this man possibly hope to kill the Emperor and his guards? Kyle stood and gripped Mahir’s shoulder and said, “come on, you need to get cleaned up.”

Kyle took him to another room where he produced new and far finer clothes for Mahir to wear. Mahir bathed quickly then pulled them on, they felt unnatural and uncomfortable on his skin. When he no longer had these tasks to occupy his attention he lay on the bed with his eyes closed, feeling sick. He did not understand these people. This was not right, their actions, their kindness, and their colors made no sense. His stomach was clenched, his head was aching fiercely from the endless bombardment of colors and above all else he wanted to leave all this confusion and pain behind. But there was no escaping the fact the Emperor should be saved.

The group met again back in the common room, all dressed in new clothes. Zera looked suddenly beautiful wearing a blue dress. The two fighters still loomed over him but looked oddly dignified dressed in their own finery. Even Morgan looked, if not dignified, at least serious. To Mahir only Kyle remained untransformed by the finery. Despite the change of clothes he still looked just like the man he had first seen driving the wagon.

They traveled to the palace in a large carriage. It was Mahir’s first experience in a carriage and he found the sensation of rattling down a road in a crowded, dark room unpleasant. He kept his head down, refusing to look at the people he was traveling with. Finally, to Mahir’s relief, the contraption halted. For a second the people inside it just looked at each other. Kyle cleared his throat and said, “well, this is it.”

Daren and Jarek, faces grim, bent their head towards each other and briefly clasped forearms, exchanging something that went beyond words. Zera shifted in her seat and let out a breath. Across from her Morgan had his eyes closed while his face was completely devoid of expression. Kyle spoke up again, “Zera, you do know that your presence here is not strictly necessary.”

Zera snorted, she was pale but composed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jarek gently tapped Morgan. “Ready?”

Morgan opened his eyes and said, still perfectly calm. “Of course.”

“Well then,” said Daren opening the door, “ladies first.”

Zera rolled her eyes but nevertheless gracefully stepped out of the carriage. The others followed purposefully behind her. As Mahir watched it once again struck him how odd it was to see all these strange colors united together. He had sudden vision of them being arrested and thrown into cells, or killed, and felt terrible. It was absurd that he was with this people. And absurd that he, a thirteen year old boy from the middle of nowhere, was going to stop them. Yet he couldn’t think of any reason why it wouldn’t happen.

They emerged onto a grand, shallow stair way that lead up to a massive building and a huge wooden door. Grim guards encased in armor stood along the stairway and in front of the door. Mahir barely noticed them, despite their auras competing for his attention. He was focused on his nervousness and on taking each step. As the ascended the stairs Mahir deliberately allowed himself to slip towards the back of the group. Stay calm, he had to stay calm. Kyle had a brief conversation with one of the guards before leading them towards the door.

At the top of the stairs they split into single file. As they approached Mahir heard someone inside the entrance announce, “Senior Roarrain, and his companions, on the Senior Adviser‘s invitation.” Before the doorway, as Mahir had hoped there would be, there was a guard was questioning each person entered, while several other guards scrutinized each man and woman that passed through the doors. These would be the guards with Seeings, checking for weapons, poisons, and lies depending on where their talent lay. One by the group entered the building. The guard doing the talking had colors of pleasant shades of white and blue. Mahir heard Jarek say calmly, “No,” and step through into the building.

Morgan was next, now Mahir was close enough to hear the guard ask, “Do you attend to harm or attack the Emperor in any way whatsoever?”

Morgan smiled blithely and said, “Of course not. The Emperor is one of the nicest people I know.”

The guard blinked but waved Morgan, looking slightly puzzled. Kyle came next looking annoyed. He was asked the same question and then waved through as well. Then Mahir stepped up to the guard. “Do you attend to harm or work against the Emperor, or aid anyone attempting to do so?”

Mahir had gone over what he planned to say a dozen times, but suddenly found he had lost his voice. He experienced a brief moment of terror that he would be able to speak but somehow managed to get out, “I-I think there is plan to kill the Emperor.”

The guard bent down to look at him, then swore sharply. After that things happened quickly. Some terse orders were given and then the guard that had been interviewing him, hand gripping shoulder like a vise, hustled him into the building and through a number of richly furnished rooms. He was escorted through a pair of double doors, past two more guards acting as sentries, and into a yet grander room. Here the guard suddenly stopped and saluted sharply. Mahir raised his eyes and found himself looking at the Emperor.

He almost screamed. He could just make out what could have been a man shaped figure, but it was blurred and distorted by the swirls of color that surrounded it. More colors then he had ever seen, the air seemed laden with alien shades of blacks, reds and greens. The figure seemed to ooze the colors rather then being outlined by them until the air around it was stained into a terrible burning hue that seemed to greedily absorb the light of the room. And all of Mahir’s instincts cried out that it was wrong, wrong wrong wrong. This should not exist, it was abominable. This had to be nightmare, something like this could not possibly be in real life. For an agonizing second he was unable to look away. Then Mahir gasped and looked down at the floor, but he could still those awful colors in his mind‘s eye and he felt bile raise in his throat. Abruptly he felt a steadying hand grip his shoulder. “Kid, hey kid!”

The guard was touching him, looking slightly concerned. “Kid, relax, nothing is going to hurt you. Just tell this man what you told me.”

Mahir panicked. He could not tell the Emperor that he was going to be destroyed. He should be destroyed, he had to be destroyed, so that every trace of its existence would vanish from the face of the earth. That desperate purpose drove some rationality back into his thought. He had to lie, but how when he was standing next to a guard who could see lies?

“I.”

Mahir swallowed and did his best to inject some uncertainty into his voice, but it was so shaky the effort was largely lost. “I thought I heard someone say that they were planning to attack you at the gathering.”

A pleasant voice emanated from in front of him, but Mahir did not dare look up again. “Was it one of the people that you were with?”

Mahir felt panic building in him. They were going to drag the truth out of him and he did not dare remain silent, not here, not in front of that thing. Lie, somehow he had to lie.

“I, uh. It was a stranger. I don’t know him.” he said. His evasion felt pitifully obvious but the next question was.

“Do you know his name?”

Mahir thought desperately, “Well, uh, no.”

The guard next to Mahir shifted slightly and Mahir tensed, worried that the guard would see this half truth. After all he knew Kyle’s first name, just not his full one. But no, the guard merely threw in, “I assure you that, as ordered, every guest was questioned by truth seers and none of them plan you any harm.”

The voice said, “Truth seers can be circumvented.”

Mahir experienced another wave of panic. He knew what Morgan could do. The guard sensed his distress and gently got down and one knee and looked Mahir in the eyes. Mahir dazedly found himself looking at his blue and white aura. He said, “Can you describe him?”

Mahir thoughts raced desperately. He kept his eyes focused on the guard. “Uh, well he was tall, taller than me. He had a beard, I think. Uh, he was old, I think. No maybe he was not that old, I am not sure. I am sorry I just heard him say that in passing.”

Mahir heard his voice crack slightly and stopped talking. He looked back down at the floor hoping desperately that that would be enough and this ordeal would end. He heard the Emperor speaking again, now addressing the guard. “Well, not to worry. I know of at least two assassination plots among my guest and suspect several more. I have arranged it so none of them can possibly succeed.”

The guard said, slowly, "My lord, I, I once heard of a man from Gywan who could kill someone by just looking at them. if the truth seers have been circumvented are you sure..."

"Yes, I have taken the necessary steps. Nothing of that kind will work here."

The guard saluted again and said crisply. “Very well my lord. Sorry for wasting your time.”

The Emperor replied, his smooth voice a bitter contrast with the vision Mahir knew he would always carry in his head. “Not at all, it is important to me that even the smallest anomaly is reported. Now take this child back to the gathering and report back to your post.”

The guard nodded. “As you wish, my lord.”

And Mahir found himself being gently lead away from that terrible room.

He was not taken back the way they had come, but through a new set of rooms. The guard guided him through another set of doors to reveal a crowd of richly dressed people talking and laughing. The guard said, “Your folks should be here.”

Mahir nodded but all he could make out was a flashing, sparking sea of color. The collective auras of the densely packed people crowding his attention so that they blurred out the room, even the people they came from, until all he could see was a writhing multicolor mass with shapes moving indistinctly within. The sight made Mahir feel afraid. The guard cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortably, and added “That was a brave thing to do. You did the right thing.”

Mahir looked at him and the shades of white and blue that outlined him. Then he abruptly walked away and plunged into the storm of colors in front of him. Weaving his way through the throng of people rapidly became a nightmarish experience. He had to find Kyle, he had to warn them that the Emperor knew their plans. But new colors kept flashing in front of him and his eyes seemed drawn of their own accord to each of them. After ten seconds Mahir did not know where the door he had entered from was. The world around him was becoming a surreal haze composed of flashing and shifting light. He could not seem to control where his eyes were drawn. His headache built until it became blinding and he almost fell. But he had to find Kyle, he had to. Even though he had betrayed him. Then a strong arm grabbed his shoulder and he heard Daren’s voice above him, although the pain in his head stopped him from making any sense of it. He felt himself being dragged over to some new location. He glimpsed a pure green and gold through the haze and began trying to explain what had happened. Kyle’s voice broke commandingly through his confused mumbling. “Mahir, be quiet and shut your eyes.”

Mahir obeyed automatically and the world turned a safe shade of black. He heard Kyle continue. “Now, you talked to the Emperor?”

“I-”

“Just say yes or no.”

“Yes.”

He heard Morgan say a couple short sharp words in his own language while Jarek dropped a swear word that had no less the seven syllables. Kyle ignored this.

“Did you direct him to us?”

“No but-”

“Does he know about Morgan?”

“No. But he knows that you tricked the truth seer. He said he knew that there were assassins. He said he was ready for them.”

Mahir opened his eyes, he was facing a wall in front of Kyle, Zera, Morgan, Daren and Jarek, their brilliant auras arranged around them. But rather then looking worried they were breaking into smiles.

Daren said, “So he is still going to make an appearance.”

Morgan chuckled softly, “He thinks he has anticipated us.”

Mahir just felt confused. He had to make them realize the danger “You have to run, he knows you are planning to kill-”

Kyle held up a hand. “Mahir, just stay calm. Everything is going to be okay”

Jarek added, calmly, “he is entering the room now.”

Just then the talk in the room redoubled. Mahir stared deliberately at the wall and swallowed, not daring to turn around. Those vicious colors were still burned in his mind. They were going to die, the Emperor was ready for them. He turned to Morgan and said, desperately, "He said magic would not work here."

Morgan laughed. “Magic? Who said anything about magic? I don't believe in magic.”

Kyle broke in, "Mahir its alright. The Emperor is by all accounts extraordinarily intelligent, but even he can not anticipate what this world has never seen."

Mahir just felt confused, and tired. They sounded so confident, but then so had the Emperor. He had no idea what was going to happened next. He heard more commotion coming from the front of the room and then the noise dropped back to its previous levels.

Kyle nodded and said, his voice tight, “right here is out chance. Morgan, kill him.”

Mahir turned to stare at Morgan, whose expression had abruptly become one of utmost concentration once again. The tale, pale man reached into his pocket a brought out a small, metal object. He planted his feet and used both arms to point the metal thing past Mahir’s shoulder towards the front of the room. His eyes locked on some point behind Mahir. He just had time to notice that there was a small, round hole in the end of the object when Morgan spat out some incomprehensible words in his own language. Then his hand twitched and three impossibly loud cracks echoed through the room. Mahir blinked confused and deafened, what had just happened? Morgan had already slipped the object back inside his coat. Then he heard a scream.

He instinctively turned around. His eyes were once again drawn straight to a familiar, terrible mass of colors that was centered on a raised stage at the end of the room. He almost wrenched his gaze away, but as he watched the colors bleed away leaving nothing but clean air behind. In their place was just an ordinary man, his rich garments covered in blood. Mahir stared at the bloody man in shock. Somewhere he heard Kyle say, “he is dead, let’s go. Try to act scared and confused.”

And then he was being lead out of the palace along with a stream of screaming guests.

Hours later the group was once at again at the inn. They were eating and celebrating, but Mahir sat apart at his own table. Too much had happened to him in the last four hours. More then he could take in. It felt like he had relived those hours and tried to make sense of them a dozen time without coming up with anything new. Now all he wanted to do was to think about something else. Kyle got up and went to sit next to him. After a second Mahir spoke without being prompted. “Are they mad, that I nearly gave them away?”

Kyle said, his voice calm and steady, “No Mahir, they are not mad. If anything it was my fault. I knew once you saw the Emperor you would know why we had to do what we did, but I never suspected you would go so far to stop us before seeing him.”

He nodded at Mahir. “Reporting us, even if it was misguided, shows a great deal of courage and intelligence. We respect that.”

Mahir nodded, he had another question he had to ask. “And the Emperor? Was he really….”

He floundered, unable to phrase what he wanted to know. But Kyle seemed to understand. He smiled and said, “Colors never lie.”

And then more seriously, “Your sight seems to be very sensitive so I can only imagine what looking at him up close was like. I find it disturbing enough from afar." He paused a moment before continuing "There are three, now two, of those…. Things in our world. They are highly intelligent and have an uncanny knack for manipulating people. All three of them have left a trail of war and destruction in their wake for no purpose we can understand. They are the bane civilizations and the spreaders of chaos. As far as I know this is the first time someone succeeded in killing one.”

After a short pause Mahir asked, “Are you going after the others?”

“Yes.”

“Can I help?”

Kyle smiled his slight, amused smile. “Of course.”

They stopped talking for a spell. Mahir's gaze wandered over to the bright colors of the people opposite him. Maybe because he was tired, or because after all he had been through he was becoming abjured to colors, or even because any aura seemed muted compared to those burning colors he had seen in the palace, but the auras in front of him no longer forced his attention upon them. Instead he could just sit and watch the bizarre mix of lights hanging in the air, mingling and sliding around each other. Creating a glorious arrangement of color that seemed to illuminate the people within so each one appeared exotic and unique. It struck Mahir that it was very beautiful. Kyle said “What are you think about?”

Mahir asked his last question,

“What are my colors?"

“Blue," he heard Kyle say, "and gold.”