Into the Fold

by Chase Blackwood

  Caine narrowed his eyes and spoke, “If no one is brave enough...”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Aeden was already wading through the plains. Caine’s face turned into a dark scowl as he watched Aeden move through the razor grass. There were no cries of anguish or shouts for help. Yet, I still hesitated, as did the others.

  This was the same Aeden who had held, in a closed fist without a hint of complaint, two toxic animals whose touch has been equated to grabbing a burning lock from a hearth. The same Aeden who said nothing on the Tempest as we passed from Water’s Gate to Imp’s Landing, cuts and bruises marking his body from an encounter with an Inquisitor.

  “I’m following Aeden,” Garit said, and he slipped into the growth after him.

  Caine was shaking his head. With squinted eyes and chin jutting forward, he stepped into the fields of grass. Caine couldn’t let Garit show greater bravery than him. A burning ember of anger continued to smolder within Caine’s heart.

  Garit and Caine were quickly followed by Janto and Adel.

  Sakhira had already slipped into the thick of it, before turning to look back. He stretched out a hand, gesturing for Kallon, Oria, and me to follow.

  “It’s okay,” he said gently.

  Kallon looked away to hide the shame in his face as he walked in with false confidence. As soon as he realized there was no immediate danger, he looked back to Oria. Oria nodded to herself, whispering, but remained fixed in place.

  I wasn’t going to be the last one. The one rooted and ruled by fear.

  With a valiant breath, I stepped forward. The soft texture of folded grass brushed against my arm. The light of a thousand dancing stars soon encompassed me, flickering as the beetles hovered briefly over the exposed flowers of the razor grass.

  It was beautiful.

  “We must hurry,” Kallon uttered, his voice hinting at discontent.

  Oria had finally decided to follow. Her face was grim as she stepped forward. She looked straight ahead, ignoring the watery lines of moonlight reflecting off the plains, the line of students cutting a path through the grass, or the line of green moving ever south.

  I shivered more against my thoughts than at the cool fingers of night or the velvety touch of the folded razor grass. My attention was on the students before me, Sakhira and Kallon. Aeden was too far ahead to be seen amidst the tall verdure.

  The hours slipped by under the watchful gaze of a full moon. The buzzing pressure of thoughts grew in intensity and burdened my awareness. It felt like someone was plucking some distant thread tied to my soul. I couldn’t shake the mounting discomfort or the growing anxiety that swelled within.

  I glanced to the sky and noticed the sun began to free itself from its slumbering nook. The once velvet heavens grew softer, like a bed of lilac. The air was cool and clear. The plains had become less dense, yet, my angst only widened.

  The sibilating hiss of a distant tune now dominated my thoughts and surged against the shores of my mind. It drove the thoughts from my head and settled its weight heavily. It crept into the hidden corners of my awareness and pulsated with a curious energy.

  “Does anyone else hear that?” I asked, trying to shake the sound.

  Kallon looked back, yet it was Sakhira who responded.

  “I do,” his voice was slightly strained.

  Garit looked back, “I thought it was in my head!”

  Garit sounded relieved that someone else had heard it. His hands were covering his ears. His face was pinched with discomfort. His eyes were wide and blinking.

  There was a murmuring of agreement that swept down the line. I saw Caine looking more perturbed than normal. He seemed to be arguing with Janto. Oria was holding herself and whispering some unheard complaint.

  Adel stood beside Aeden, nodding in agreement. Aeden seemed to be peering into the darkness, following the migrating line of luminous green.

  “Stop!” he shouted.

  The group slowed to a stop and gathered loosely about him, curiosity on most faces.

  I could see the subtle lines of strain in Aeden’s eyes. He too could hear the incessant buzzing sound.

  “Why in the seven hells are we stopping?” Caine complained.

  Aeden didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned slowly to face Caine. Aeden’s eyes were two pools of murderous intent. They were dark and fierce, like a moonless night in the depths of an old forest.

  “Go,” Aeden finally said, “walk to your death, into the throbbing heart of madness.”

  Caine remembered their recent interaction, as he rubbed absentmindedly at his neck. He made no move to leave the group.

  Garit looked from Aeden to Caine in confusion. Caine stood rooted to the spot, anger washed over his features. Adel placed a calming hand onto Aeden’s arm. Aeden didn’t seem to notice.

  “We have to keep moving,” Kallon said rather softly.

  I remained silent, afraid of upsetting Aeden, yet I harbored the same fear. What if the razor grass unfurled its deadly blades with the rising sun? We didn’t have much time.

  Aeden seemed unconcerned with our fears. He was deep in thought. He was whispering to himself.

  “Upon the plains of pain and death, shield your notice of life’s unseen breath, then follow the hard-green line, to your nearest sign,” Aeden had recited the riddle aloud, “life’s unseen breath…”

  “What are you getting at?” Sakhira questioned, stepping closer.

  Garit was looking about for the line of migrating beetles.

  I grew more anxious as we stood in the middle of the fields, watching the sun start to inch its way toward the horizon.

  “That pervasive sound cannot be coincidental or accidental,” Aeden replied.

  Adel was nodding his head. Suddenly a broad smile claimed him, lighting up his face. It was the expression Adel had when he’d won at a game or solved a puzzle.

  “Shield your notice from life’s unseen breath,” Adel was nodding now, “I got it!” he exclaimed.

  All eyes were turned to him.

  “We have to shield our ears to the sound.”

  “How?” Janto asked, slight irritation evident in his voice.

  “Just cover your ears,” Kallon said, “we need to keep moving.”

  Aeden stood, immobile, thinking. Oria was looking to the horizon.

  “Where are the beetles going?”

  The green line of lightning bugs was fading into the distance.

  “We need to move,” Caine said in annoyance, “I’m leaving.”

  Aeden waved him off.

  Oria nodded in agreement, taking a small step closer to Aeden. She seemed to seek him out whenever she was afraid. It maddened me. He wasn’t her protector. He had made no claim on her. What was Aeden going to do? Slow the rise of the sun?

  “Let’s go,” I said more loudly.

  Aeden was shaking his head, “Your honey,” he said, looking to Adel.

  Adel’s brow furrowed in confusion. Garit seemed flabbergasted.

  “Honey?”

  Aeden ignored Garit. He didn’t notice as Caine began to walk away, attempting to pull Janto with him.

  “You still have the wax comb?”

  Adel was now nodding. Janto stopped. Garit was nodding in understanding now.

  “Good, get it,” Aeden said, then addressed us all, “grab a piece of beeswax and shape it and stuff it into your ears. This should help shield against the sound.”

  Adel had handed out the wax. Oria looked at it with disgust.

  “I’m not putting this into my ears,” she said, “it’s still sticky.”

  Aeden shrugged as he finished shaping the comb and stuffed it into his ear.

  “Now we go,” Aeden said authoritatively.

  Somehow, when he spoke, people wanted to obey. Today, I wasn’t the exception. As angry as I still felt with him, I had ignored him before and paid the price. I also, very much wanted to be out of the plains before the sun fully crested the horizon.

  A
smaller piece of me feared him. It was strange. I hadn’t felt that way before.

  I shaped the wax as we walked, plugging my ears.

  It felt like I was plunged underwater. The muffled sound of my feet became softer than my own breath. Each heartbeat thrashed against my ears as we moved ever southward, following the fading line of beetles. Following the cut-throat sound of death.

  Chapter 59

  “Ignorance often masks the painful truth of reality.” A Soldier’s Tale – Library of Galdor

  Peter stood upon a granite boulder, beside a stone pillar, overlooking the Aria Plains. He felt trepidation within his chest as he watched the fields of grass bend to the wind. His gaze drifted to the massive hogweed, hemlock, and castor plants growing on the southern side of the Lufian River.

  Each had their unique toxin, waiting for the unsuspecting visitor to brush past, or to eat their leaves, or chew on their seeds. They were a welcoming garden of death, posing as flowers and food.

  “Are you ready?” Thea questioned.

  Her voice pulled Peter from the scene before him. He tore his eyes from the faint pinpricks of multi-colored light and looked at Thea. She stood resolute before him. Her face was calm and determined. Her features were beautiful in the fading light of the sun.

  Peter only nodded. His mind was still on her story.

  “What did you find in the fields of pain and death?”

  Thea only smiled.

  She glanced out into the grassy plains as if discerning some truth masked to Peter’s eye. After a moment she dug into her bag and pulled out cotton balls that had been soaked in a mixture of slow cooked olive oil, beeswax, and willow bark.

  “Put these in your pocket,” she said, “you will be needing them as we approach the Tree of Forgotten Children.”

  Peter peered toward the horizon, bringing up a hand to shield from the final rays of sunlight, filtering through a mauve sky. He attempted to discern the shape of some distant tree, but saw nothing but the swaying fields of razor grass and the faint flickering lights of the lightning beetles.

  “What’s at the tree?” Peter asked.

  “Nothing but pain and death,” Thea uttered, as a cloud of fear passed over her semblance of calm, “and the path to the Sages of Umbra.”

  Peter only nodded as his imagination swept over him in an icy shudder of expectation.

  Chapter 60

  “To find balance one must understand chaos.” Valik the Philosopher – Bryn Yawr

  The Tree of Forgotten Children stood before us like a monolith to the past. Twisted bodies and half-rotten corpses lay broken before its grandeur. Green lightning beetles swarmed about in a half-hazard fashion illuminating the golden leaves, dark-red trunk, and bright purple berries hanging from a wreath of expanding branches.

  Its beauty was lost on us, its allure was not.

  A gentle breeze wove through its leaves, eliciting a torturous melody. The wind caressed a tormented tune of agony and tribulation. Each note echoed within, vibrating down the length of my spine. It felt like someone had taken a mace and banged at my teeth, tore at my ears, and hammered at my skull.

  It was unbearable.

  My vision blurred as the tree leaves danced, scraping out a piercing song. Each leaf reflected and refracted the light, causing a shimmering mirage of turbulence and befuddlement. Furthering my disorientation. The ground felt unsteady before my feet as I lost sight of the horizon.

  I fell to my knees as I watched Garit clamp his hands over his ears, yelling into the void of sonance. Oria writhed upon the plains. Caine had begun crying. Janto punched the ground repeatedly, as if trying to beat the vibrations out of his head.

  Tears danced at the edges of my vision.

  The wind slowed and the buzzing turmoil fell to a bloody whisper. The beetles abated their frenzied hustle and loitered about the purple berries.

  I glanced up and saw Aeden standing, looking curiously upon the tree. How was it he was still standing?

  “We have to go back,” Kallon cried into the air.

  Sakhira dusted off his knees and took a few shaky steps toward me. His eyes were haggard but determined.

  “This can’t be right,” he whispered.

  My mind settled into a pattern of thought. We needed to move. Our proximity to the Tree of Forgotten Children would eventually lead to our deaths. I, however, refused to turn back. Forward was the only way, toward the Sages of Umbra.

  I felt, before I heard, another gust of wind. It swept across the Aria Plains. I already had my hands clamped over my ears. My stomach twisted into a knot of dreaded anticipation. The leaves rustled. The reverberations were sharp. The sound was devastating.

  Through half-open lids I watched the leaves sway. I watched as Sakhira fell to his knees. His hands were white and discolored as they pressed against his ears. His elbow brushed against mine, a solitary piece of human comfort in an otherwise foreign land.

  Kallon was clawing his way toward the tree. He needed to be stopped.

  I dug deep within, remembering the heartache, the pain, the desperation I’d endured. I searched for my scattered willpower and pieced it back together. I refused to die today. I wouldn’t be stopped by a damned tree in the middle of a field. I would not be stopped by the Fold.

  I struggled to my feet. The world spun before me. The gust died down and the images steadied, like a ship sailing into calmer waters. The lingering vibrations echoed within the hollow chambers of my body and made me sick to my stomach.

  Adel vomited somewhere to my left. Oria squealed in pain to my right.

  I took several steps forward, toward the shimmering mass of golden leaves and the green luminous swarm of lightning beetles.

  “Kallon,” I shouted, but he couldn’t hear me.

  I took another step and glimpsed Aeden humming to himself. His face was strained, but unmarked by pain.

  Had I more time, I would have been angry. How was he ignoring its siren call?

  Another gust.

  Sakhira stood next to me. He resisted. He fought with all he had against the incessant vibration that throbbed within. It felt like the sound was tearing apart my organs. That it wanted to rip my eyes from my head. Yet, there Sakhira remained, by my side.

  Adel remained beside Aeden. The tall white-haired warrior continued to hum. He stood proud and tall, unfazed.

  How was this possible?

  My knees began to feel weak. I watched as the beetles fell, one by one, to the madness. They hurled themselves at the tree, tiny luminous balls of suicidal intent. Their miniscule corpses fell upon the soil and upon the half-rotten bodies of deer, rabbit, and other forest fauna.

  I hardly noticed the sun had worked its way past the horizon, and began to shine slivers of warmth across the Aria Plains and upon the Tree of Forgotten Children. It would have been beautiful had it not been for my desperation.

  My mind felt like it was coming apart at the seams.

  My only thought, I had to save Kallon.

  Suddenly, Aeden shouted. It was loud. The reverberating feel of it washed off the tree and swept past us. I took a staggering step back. Oria rolled upon the ground and cried out. Before I had a chance to look up, he’d shouted again. This time it was higher in pitch.

  I blinked, my ears buzzing with the remembered pressure of moments ago. My mind swam in confusion. Slowly I felt the silence around us, the stillness. Nothing but the hushed throbbing of my beating heart and the echoing call of my breath, pressed against my beeswax filled ears.

  “We must go!” Aeden implored, “I don’t know how long the tree will remain silent.”

  Kallon was still crawling toward the red trunk and scattered bodies. I took several steps forward, feeling my energy and strength come back. Sakhira was by my side. Together we grabbed Kallon’s legs and pulled him back.

  “We have to go,” I shouted, but Kallon was only half listening.

  Adel joined us and helped Kallon to his feet.

  Caine was wiping tears from h
is eyes. Janto was picking dirt from his knuckles, looking confused.

  Aeden was beside Oria, helping her to her feet. A sudden wave of anger settled into my gut.

  Sakhira placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “Let’s go,” Sakhira whispered.

  His touch was gentle. Comforting even. Why couldn’t Aeden do that?

  I glanced about, the fog of despair dissipating rapidly. My mind felt brittle, like fresh Vintas ice. The taste of jealousy fresh upon my tongue.

  We had to go. Not one to wallow in pain, I glanced around. There had to be a path. Aeden looked ready to speak. For some reason I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want to hear his voice.

  “Let’s go,” I shouted, waving in a southerly direction.

  I began walking confidently. Sakhira had already begun to follow, his arm around Kallon, with Adel assisting on the other side.

  As I skirted the massive tree, I noticed a break in the foliage.

  “Follow me,” I reiterated.

  I was already walking briskly away from the tree and fallen corpses. Moving away from the red trunk, golden leaves, and purple berries of the massive growth.

  I passed Aeden and paused to savor the look on his face. It was one of mild surprise and pride. He looked at me in confusion, as if he couldn’t imagine I could be okay, that I could lead.

  I was going to prove him wrong. I would lead. I would prevail.

  Behind me a trail of students followed as we left the clearing and stumbled upon, of all things, a hard-green line. A path of malachite cut through the remaining razor grass, away from the plains, away from the Tree of Forgotten Children.

  Chapter 61

  “The practical application of the arkein stems from the descended knowledge of the Dup Shimati.” Shadow Scrolls of Dimutia

  I don’t remember much from the malachite path. My thoughts had been jumbled, broken to the point of disrepair. I recall we had walked in silence. Each of us wrapped in a cocoon of introspective pity, confusion, and wonder.

  I remember the fields had faded, but I cannot for the life of me, remember what had replaced them. Were there fields of flowers? A forest of bamboo? Wild horses?