Essence of Gluic

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Essence of Gluic Page 39

by Anthony G. Wedgeworth

Extreme tension remained between Thorik and his uncle over the following weeks. They had hardly spoken to one another after the incident at the tower near the Squalid Water’s bridge, and he could hardly look at Brimmelle without becoming angry. The man had crossed a line and they both knew it.

  Thorik and Santorray had led the group across the grasslands, while Grewen and Brimmelle followed several yards behind. Bryus and Avanda continued to stop and collect various plants and insects as they trailed far behind.

  “I don’t know if I can ever forgive Brimmelle for his treachery against Granna and me.”

  Santorray didn’t speak as his eyes continued to scan the horizon for danger.

  “Have you ever had anyone betray you in such a way?”

  Santorray growled at the question. “You have no idea.”

  “No, I mean someone very close to you, such as a family member.”

  “Your displeasure in Brimmelle fails in comparison to my past.”

  “How did you handle it?”

  “Like all Del’Undays are trained to do. We take action and then move on.”

  “Take action?”

  “When we are wronged, we take it upon ourselves to take vengeance or allow it to pass. This decision is made and lived out. Once complete, we move on with our lives without the continual emotional ties to it.”

  “You mean once it’s over you forgive them?”

  “We do not forgive, nor do we forget. We move on.”

  “As though it never happened?”

  “Not exactly, but that’s close enough for you to understand.”

  “But how could you look them in the eye again if they had killed a family member, such as your grandmother?”

  “My vengeance would cleanse me of my pain. Afterwards, assuming I allowed them to live, then we would greet each other as normal.”

  “I don’t know if I could do that.”

  “As a Num, I wouldn’t expect you to live to these standards. These are the teachings of the great demons that have been embedding into our culture for thousands of years. We are Del’Unday. This is who we are.”

  “Demons?” Thorik asked with concern.

  “You’re not familiar with the Del’Unday culture on this?”

  “No,” Thorik answered. “I know of the demon Bakalor. Is this who you speak of?”

  Santorray nodded. “There are actually three demons which the Oracles created for our lands. Rummon, the dragon, ruled the air, the wind, and the storms. He brought rain when he was pleased and drought with lightning when he was angry. Bakalor was created to rule the underworld. He shakes the earth and blows fire from the mountaintops when he is not fed properly. Although, he provides us with metals to build weapons and caves to shelter us from Rummon.”

  “And then there is Ergrauth, ruler of the land and all that rests upon it. Ergrauth’s shovel cleared the way for water to flow to our rivers and crops, his axe cut down the forest so the Fesh can graze on the grasslands, and his breath allows life to exist or be taken.”

  Thorik was amazed at the story. “These three demons took care of all Australis?”

  “Offspring helped. Rummon and Ergrauth would often breed with mortals to create trusted henchmen and servants to carry out their needs. It is believed that Bakalor creates his children by cutting off one of his toes, which then takes a decade to fully grow back.”

  Recalling Bakalor’s creation of Grub, Thorik nodded in agreement with Santorray’s story. “But if Rummon is a demon, how did he get trapped inside my spear?”

  “Ergrauth ordered the making of the most powerful weapon ever, one that could protect the skies above his battlefields. It was decided to send the E’rudite, Schulis, in disguise as a peasant to the dragon’s lair. As a mighty demon, the dragon underestimated the maliciousness and underhandedness of the meek requester sent by Ergrauth. With his guard down, Rummon’s spirit was extricated from his flesh. His body instantly froze in time and forever waits until it is returned.”

  Thinking about the story, Thorik began questioning it. “But, for all this to be true, the sky and the wind would cease to move until Rummon returned, and yet we know this not to be the case. The wind blows, storms come and go, and he has no part in it, so this must be a fable.”

  Santorray’s eyes never left the distant hilltops. “You would be correct, if I hadn’t already explained that his children took on many duties. Each of the demon’s offspring plays a role and when they argue, like siblings inevitably do, lightning flashes, thunder roars, and the sweat of their battle falls to the land as rain.”

  Chapter 30

  Chuttle Range

 

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