by Kyle West
“Remember, Shanti,” Isandru said. “Though you understand nothing now, being selected for training with the Seekers is the highest honor in Elekai society. As for your parents, I will do whatever I can make to make enquiries and let you know about them.”
I blinked. “You mean that?”
“Never doubt an Elder’s word.”
I nodded. I supposed it would have to do. “How soon will you discover anything?”
“Any foray into Colonia is a difficult and complicated matter,” Isandru said. “I promise only to do what I can.”
“I need more than that.”
“He will do what he can,” Isaru said, breaking his silence. “Not everyone is willing to take risks like me.”
“Nor should you ever take such a risk again,” Isandru said. “The Covenant has learned that they are not invulnerable. Your actions might have heightened tensions that have remained dormant for years.”
Isaru said nothing to that, but I could tell that he agreed with that statement.
“I don’t know anything about being a Seeker,” I said. “I don’t see how this is even possible. How is this my life now?”
“You will learn,” Isandru said. “As an Elekai, this is your new place. You will learn to strengthen and protect all that is Elekai. Never think that we Elders would let someone of your potential fall through the cracks.” I was about to ask him another question, when he cut me off. “We will be departing soon for Nava Mountain and the Seekers’ Sanctum. I suggest you do what you can to prepare yourself.”
Before Isandru could explain further, he turned away, engaging Elder Judge Lian in conversation.
“Welcome to the Seekers,” Isaru said. “Where every question leads to three more, and nothing is ever fully explained.”
He turned on his heels to leave. Startled, I ran to catch up. “Where are you going?”
“Enjoying my last bits of freedom. I’m thinking of riding Jorla one last time and seeing what kind of trouble I can find.”
“Can I come with you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
“Isaru.”
We both stopped in our tracks, turning to see King Taris resplendent in his purple and silver robes.
“Where do you think you’re going? You should be gathering your things for your departure!”
Isaru stiffened, clearly doing his best not to give his father an angry retort.
“You are going nowhere,” King Taris said, “nowhere, but the Seekers’ Sanctum.”
“You speak as if I’m leaving within the hour.”
“You are,” his father said, coldly. “Along with the rest of the Elders and initiates.” King Taris’s face shifted from sternness to one almost of apology. “I’ve tried everything, Isaru. Gods know I’ve tried. The Sanctum was all I had left. I’ve come to see that the Elders are right. For years, I opposed their desire to train you, but now, with this final act of defiance...” He shook his head. “Without training, without discipline...you will never be fit to rule Haven.”
Isaru’s cheeks reddened. “Maybe I don’t want to rule Haven.”
“And that is the problem. You are my one and only son, Isaru. It is a king’s place to lead, to accept his mantle, to be strong, to lead the Elekai in war when the Covenant encroaches on the Wild. If a King cannot control his own flesh and blood...then what does he control?”
Isaru said nothing, merely listening. His father continued.
“The Elders have told me, time and again, that a Seeker with your potential has not been discovered since the founding of the Order. It has been over a century since a Seeker ruled in Haven...it could be that the line is reaching its end.”
“You think the Second Darkness draws close?” Isaru asked, amused. “I thought you never put much stock in that tripe.”
King Taris’s cheeks burned. “Mind your tongue, my son, because it only reveals the content of your heart. The Second Darkness is not a joke.”
I had grown up believing there was going to be a Second Darkness. The First Darkness happened during the Ragnarok War, and according to Covenant theology, it was where the gods had defeated the Elekai. I was sure the Elekai remembered it differently.
My thoughts were broken when Chief Elder Arminius approached. Standing with him were two more youths I hadn’t noticed who must have been sitting in the stands. Both were male, and one of them was short, stocky, muscled, with brown eyes and a shaved head. His face had a weathered look – though young, it was clear he was used to being outside and working hard. The other, though about the same age, seemed to be the complete opposite. He was tall and thin, with sharp, handsome features, and blue eyes which danced with mischief. His blond hair was long, almost to his shoulders, in the style typical of the Annajen. He wore tan breeches and a gray shirt, both well-tailored. I pegged him as being born to one of the elite families of Haven.
“Is this everyone?” the King asked.
“Yes,” Elder Arminius said. He looked at me, gesturing to the short, stocky youth. “This is Samal Coris, of Fila Tree to the north. The other is Ret Espar, heir of House Espar in Faletree.”
Lord Ret gave a slight bow while Samal offered a terse nod.
“Ret and Samal,” Elder Arminius said, “may I present to you Prince Isaru of Haven and Shanti Roshar of Colonia. Both will be traveling with you north to study at the Sanctum.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Ret said, bowing again, though his blue eyes seemed to take me in more than Isaru.
Samal merely gave a grunt. Before any more words could be exchanged, Arminius addressed the King.
“Are our Askaleen ready?”
“They are waiting in the stable.”
“Then nothing bars our progress north. We prefer that our initiates arrive with nothing but the clothes on their backs. All their needs will be met upon arrival at the Sanctum. One of the tenets of the Seekers’ Way speaks to our poverty: Do not hold on to possessions you no longer need.”
Judging from King Taris’s reaction, he seemed surprised by this fact. “My son is yours to command...at least until he is ready to return.”
“Of course,” Elder Arminius said. “The journey is far, and even now, noon approaches. I hope to make the Sanctum by tomorrow morning.”
“Very well,” King Taris said. He turned to Isaru. “I wish you well on your journey, my son. Listen and learn from the masters, and meditate on what it truly means to be the son of the king.”
Isaru said nothing, giving only the barest of nods in acknowledgement. I noticed that the other Elders were coming our way.
“We should leave now,” Elder Arminius said. “I hope to make good progress before the day is done.”
With that, we followed the Chief Elder from the High Veranda and down into the trunk. I wanted nothing more than to ask questions, but for now, it seemed wiser to keep quiet.
We didn’t travel far before we exited on a wide web of boughs, on top of which was built a wide, circular veranda. And waiting on the thick planks were a number of Askaleen...ten in all, tied to various posts ringing the platform. All were of a similar size, though markedly smaller than Jorla. Their tiny pink scales lent them a smooth appearance, and they varied in shade from crimson to the lightest of pinks, so as almost to be white. These, according to both Isaru and Isandru, were Mindless dragons. Even I noticed there was something different about them. They stood completely still, as if they had no will of their own to move. I felt nothing from them, unlike with Jorla and the Radaska dragonling. From each emanated an eerie emptiness that just felt...wrong. However, they were to be our transportation to the Sanctum.
“It’s sad,” I said.
Isaru nodded, as if understanding what I meant. “Those without the Gift of Dragonspeech can’t feel it. The Askaleen can be directed to fly with a thought, for those who know how. For those who don’t, reins and voiced commands are sufficient.”
“We’re really leaving,” I said. “No time to think about things.”
/> Isaru nodded. “This is where we’re stuck, at least for a while. Nothing to do but accept it.”
Already, the Elders were mounting their respective dragons. We waited until they had selected theirs, and this left three Askaleen. Isaru walked forward, placing his hand on the long neck of the closest one.
“This is Cloud,” Isaru said. “He’s been mine ever since I was born.” He frowned. “I’ve been neglecting him ever since I met Jorla.”
Cloud blinked at Isaru’s touch. I could see where he’d gotten his name; there was a large spot on his side that was slightly lighter than the rest of his scales, having a wispy appearance.
I saw next to us that Ret was mounting the dragon that was surely his. Samal was getting on with him. Dragons seemed to be something only rich people could afford – or perhaps if you were a Seeker.
Cloud unfurled his wings, and Isaru easily climbed onto the large saddle on his back. Because an Askaleen’s back was smooth, I supposed it was necessary to have a firmer seating than riding bareback on a Radaska. Even so, any sudden movement on the part of the dragon would make it easy to lose balance. Unlike Jorla, there was no spike to grab on to for support.
“I’m afraid I might fall,” I said.
“The key is to lean forward when it is necessary to turn,” Isaru said. “This will happen rarely. I will instruct Cloud to fly in a straight line, for the most part. Because you’ll be sitting behind me, it will be easy to hold on if things get unsteady. There are two pairs of stirrups, because this is a two-person saddle. I promise you I won’t go anywhere, and so as long as you hold on, lean forward, and put your feet in the stirrups, you’ll be fine.”
I still didn’t know if I could voluntarily get on this dragon. I hadn’t had the choice last night, but just thinking of being so high up without much support made me queasy. I wasn’t one typically afraid of heights, but I felt scared here.
“Nothing will happen, I promise,” Isaru said. “I’m an expert rider.”
“And I’m not.”
Isaru reached a hand down to help me up, and I forced myself to nod. I let help him pull me up until I was seated behind him. Caught between his body and the saddle’s cantle, I felt surprisingly secure.
“Stirrups,” Isaru reminded me.
My feet found them both after a moment. Even if the dragon made a sudden drop, as long as my legs were taut, I’d probably be all right.
At least, that was what I hoped.
It wasn’t long before everyone was mounted and ready. All was silent until, with a flap of wings, Elder Arminius and his Askaleen stepped off the wooden platform with wings outstretched. There was an opening in the branches facing north, and it was through this opening that Arminius’s dragon flew. His dragon was soon followed by the others, and last of all, Cloud took off.
Though I had done this already, I couldn’t help but feel afraid as he took to the air. I clutched Isaru in front of me, tightening my legs in the stirrups for extra support. I bit back the scream that wanted to escape my throat as Cloud spread his wings wide, giving a few powerful flaps that made him rise above the branches.
Soon, we were out of the Tree, steadily flying north through the canyon. It was another moment, though, before I could relax.
Isaru chuckled. “You’re stronger than you look.”
I realized that I was gripping him rather tightly, so I loosened my grip. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. You’re doing well.”
I tried not to look down, but I did glance over my shoulder to see Haven. The massive Tree took up nearly my entire view, its bark and boughs silver and its leaves pink in the sunlight.
“So it begins,” Isaru said ominously.
So it does, I thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE HOURS PASSED AND THE Grand Canyon narrowed until it was only the river rushing between its jagged, lofty heights. This massive canyon filled with xen and trees would probably never cease to be a wonder to me. It was impossible to tell which direction we were going with all the twists and turns, but Isaru insisted that we were heading northeast.
“Where’s Nava Mountain?” I asked.
“Two days up the river,” Isaru said. “It’s where the Northern Wild begins.”
“The Northern Wild?”
“Yes. It stretches from Nava Mountain all the way to Ragnarok Crater.”
“What’s beyond that?”
Isaru was a moment in answering. “No one knows. At some point, it must end, though. No one travels north much; there’s nothing there but a few scattered villages. And there’s fewer every year.”
“Because of the reversions.”
“The xen doesn’t grow as well up there,” Isaru said. “A lot of Samalites consider it their home, but every year, it seems as if a few dozen more arrive in Haven, having given up on the land. The Sanctum is far enough away that it isn’t affected by reversions. It’s built at the base of Nava Mountain, and Nava Village lies just a mile away, supplying the Sanctum with all it needs to function. The Seekers like to keep their affairs as separate from the rest of the Elekai as possible.”
“Why’s that?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Isaru said. “Seekers are experts in meddling...especially the Augurs and Judges. They often attach themselves to the courts of varying kingdoms, mostly in the East. Other Sects are more introspective, such as the Scholars, Sages, or Prophets.”
“And there are Seven Sects.”
“Yes,” Isaru said. “So it has been since the Order was founded by Annara. She recognized the need for the Seekers to have people of many talents. There are the warriors, such as the Champions, and the diplomats, like the Augurs. Altogether, they form one Order.”
“What’s the purpose behind the Seekers?” I asked. “Why did Annara found them in the first place?”
“That’s the funny thing,” Isaru said. “No one truly knows. Their name implies that they must seek something, but what that is has been lost to time. It is said that the Seekers once knew their purpose, and that it was written in a tome known as the Prophecy of Annara. However, the Prophecy was lost when Colonia fell to the Covenant, two hundred and fifty years ago. Some say it was destroyed, while others say that the Covenant saved it from the Great Library before it was torched.”
“And there were no copies?”
“Any copies were sought out and destroyed,” Isaru said. “If any were saved, they would exist among the Elekai people. It’s hard to imagine something like that being hidden for so long, but I suppose it’s possible. It’s the dream of the Seekers – and in particular, the Prophets and the Scholars – to find an exact copy of the Prophecy, or better yet, the original. They were Annara’s very words to the Order as written nearly four hundred years ago. As the name suggests, it predicts the future of the Elekai people as well as the coming of the Second Darkness.”
“It has an exact date?”
“I don’t know,” Isaru said. “I would suppose it does. Then again, there are those who say it happened so long ago that it’s all just a story.”
“What do you believe?”
Isaru went quiet as he considered. “I suppose I haven’t learned enough about it to make a guess.”
“Come on,” I said. “What does your gut tell you?”
“It’s out there, somewhere. Either the Colonians have it – the most likely prospect – or it was taken north to Hyperborea by the Samalites.”
“I thought you said Hyperborea was a myth, too.”
“Maybe it is,” Isaru said. “But as with the Prophecy, I feel it had to have existed in some form. Every Samalite will tell you it existed for true, and that it was the greatest city there ever was.” Isaru paused. “Until it wasn’t.”
“If it were there,” I said, “how come no one has unearthed it?”
“The Northern Wild is dangerous,” Isaru said. “Even flying on a dragon, you’re bound to be attacked by Mindless Radaska. I don’t know if anyone who’s tried to make the journey has c
ome back alive. It was said, at one time, it was safer. According to the stories, there used to be a road that connected Sylva, Haven, and Hyperborea, called the Pilgrimage Road. The road between the former two still exists, but the road north from Haven ends at the Seekers’ Sanctum. There was a long, terrible war against the Mindless for most of the Third Century, and so much was lost during that time. Not only did many die from monsters spawned by rampant reversions – so did a lot of our history. It wasn’t until the Fourth Century that things calmed down a bit.”
“You Elekai count the years a lot differently than the Colonians do.” I frowned. “I guess I should include myself among the Elekai.”
“How do the Colonians count it?” Isaru asked.
“We count everything from the founding of the Covenant. To Colonia, the year is 250 F.C.”
“I suppose F.C. is Founding of the Covenant?”
“You suppose correctly.”
“We count from the end of the Ragnarok War,” Isaru said. “The year to us is 398 A.R. There is an older standard of telling the year, though it isn’t used except among Precursor historians. If you can believe that scale, the year is actually 2458.”
My eyes widened at that. “2458? Since when, the dawn of time?”
“Some say that,” Isaru said. “But others say that the world is older even than that...older than can be imagined. Not many books from that time survive, and all are written in English, which no one speaks anymore. No one except people with beards and wrinkles, anyway.”
“That’s the same as Colonia,” I said. “The priests are the only ones permitted to speak English, because it’s seen as the language of the gods. I suspect that even most of them don’t know it that well.”
“I’ve learned a bit of it,” Isaru said. “A lot of it is actually quite similar to Espan, though the language has a lot more in common with Old Spanish, which isn’t spoken anymore, either. I guess you could say what we’re speaking now is Spanish, though there are lots of different dialects. The Novans speak something similar, but I guess over the years, they’ve become different languages.”
