Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [89]
Sarene smiled mischievously, an expression that spread across most of the faces in the room.
“Ashe, where did I put my sword?” Sarene said, on her knees beside her bed, fumbling around beneath it.
“Your sword, my lady?” Ashe asked.
“Never mind, I’ll find it later. What did you discover?”
Ashe pulsed quietly, as if wondering just what sort of trouble she was getting into, before speaking. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to report, my lady. Elantris is a very delicate subject, and I have been able to learn very little.”
“Anything will help,” Sarene said, turning to her wardrobe. She had a ball to attend this night.
“Well, my lady, most of the people in Kae don’t want to speak of the city. Kae’s Seons didn’t know very much, and the mad Seons inside of Elantris seem incapable of enough thought to respond to my questions. I even tried approaching the Elantrians themselves, but many appeared scared of me, and the others only begged me for food—as if I could carry it to them. Eventually, I found the best source of information to be the soldiers that guard the city walls.”
“I’ve heard of them,” Sarene said, looking over her clothing. “They’re supposed to be the most elite fighting group in Arelon.”
“And they are very quick to tell you so, my lady,” Ashe said. “I doubt many of them would know what to do in a battle, though they seem quite proficient at cards and drinking. They tend to keep their uniforms well pressed, however.”
“Typical of a ceremonial guard,” Sarene said, picking through the row of black garments, her skin quivering at the thought of donning yet another flat, colorless monstrosity of a dress. As much as she respected the memory of Raoden, she couldn’t possibly wear black again.
Ashe bobbed in the air at her comment. “I am afraid, my lady, that Arelon’s most ‘elite’ military group hardly does the country any credit. Yet, they are the city’s most informed experts regarding Elantris.”
“And what did they have to say?”
Ashe drifted over to the closet, watching as she rifled through her choices. “Not much. People in Arelon don’t talk to Seons as quickly as they once did. There was a time, I barely recall, when the population loved us. Now they are … reserved, almost frightened.”
“They associate you with Elantris,” Sarene said, glancing longingly toward the dresses she had brought with her from Teod.
“I know, my lady,” Ashe said. “But we had nothing to do with the fall of the city. There is nothing to fear from a Seon. I wish … But, well, that is irrelevant. Despite their reticence, I did get some information. It appears that Elantrians lose more than their human appearance when the Shaod takes them. The guards seem to think that the individual completely forgets who he or she used to be, becoming something more like an animal than a human. This certainly seems the case for the Elantrian Seons I spoke to.”
Sarene shivered. “But, Elantrians can talk—some asked you for food.”
“They did,” Ashe said. “The poor souls hardly even seemed animal; most of them were crying or mumbling in some way. I’m inclined to think they had lost their minds.”
“So the Shaod is mental as well as physical,” Sarene said speculatively.
“Apparently, my lady. The guards also spoke of several despotic lords that rule the city. Food is so valuable that the Elantrians vigorously attack anyone bearing it.”
Sarene frowned. “How are the Elantrians fed?”
“They aren’t, as far as I can tell.”
“Then how do they live?” Sarene asked.
“I do not know, my lady. It is possible that the city exists in a feral state, with the mighty living upon the weak.”
“No society could survive like that.”
“I don’t believe they have a society, my lady,” Ashe said. “They are a group of miserable, cursed individuals that your God appears to have forgotten—and the rest of the country is trying very hard to follow His example.”
Sarene nodded thoughtfully. Then, determined, she pulled off her black dress and rifled through the clothing at the back of her closet. She presented herself for Ashe’s appraisal a few minutes later.
“What do you think?