by Lori Hyrup
“What’s the purpose of the kruustas?” Zephyron asked.
“We hunt down and eradicate shard beasts. Our embedded crystals provide us with a special sensitivity to them as well as grant us enhanced strength and speed and the ability to bring forth our krusword.”
Zephyron bit off a piece of his meat, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Interesting. There are no ill effects from this?”
Aria met his eyes but did not answer. Who was this man? Aria swallowed the last bite of meat and washed it down with a long sip of her ale. Wiping her mouth, she said, “Enough about me. What about you two? Where are you from?”
Kharra frowned and swirled her drink around in her mug. Zephyron began scooping taro into his mouth.
After a few silent moments of eating, Zephyron answered, “Far away.”
Aria frowned. “What brings you to Murali?”
It was Kharra, rather than Zephyron, who responded. “We’re just passing through. As you can tell, we’re not familiar with the area. In fact we’re looking for a guide. We asked a few of the townsfolk in the village, and several of them gave us your description. Would you be interested?”
“Hm,” was all Aria said.
“We’ll pay you well,” Kharra added.
“I’m not worried about the compensation. I just don’t think I’d be appropriate for the task. Why do you need a guide?”
This time Zephyron replied. “We search for a place called Ei’ars’anu.”
Aria froze, her mug poised for another sip. Instead of taking a drink, she set the mug down. She looked from Zephyron to Kharra and back to Zephyron. She leaned over the table toward the white-haired man and said in a low voice, “Do not say that name too loud. You may find a knife in your back for it. You should return to your home and forget you ever heard the name you spoke.”
“I’m sorry,” Zephyron said, his face serious, “but that’s not possible. We’ve come a long way, and we cannot return until we have completed our mission.”
“I hope your quest is worth your lives because there is a good chance both of you will die in that place. We now call the entire region Death’s Pillar.”
“We understand the danger,” said Kharra, careful to keep her voice low, “but as Zephyron mentioned, we can’t return home until we’ve completed our mission. We must get there. I don’t blame you for not wanting to go. If you are unable to guide us, could you point us to someone who can?”
Aria grabbed her mug, tilted her head back, and swallowed its remaining contents. She replied, “There is no one else capable of guiding you. Just to reach the mountain, you need to travel through Wilderland, which is dangerous to anyone who is not a kruusta. Only a handful of sparsely populated villages are located even near that region, and their citizens keep to themselves. They would not help strangers, especially those who wish to climb the pillar.”
Kharra stood. Zephyron finished his ale and did the same. Kharra turned to her and extended her hand once again. Aria took it with a measure of uncertainty. “Thank you for your time and the information. It will be helpful.” Kharra released her hand, pulled up her cloak, and headed for the door.
Zephyron gave her a tight but respectful nod. Then he placed a handful of coins on the table and followed his companion. Yuli, the mousy serving girl, rushed out from the kitchen and wrapped Zephyron’s waist in a hug. “Thank you again! Let me give you this.”
Zephyron knelt down so he could be at eye level with the girl. With meticulous care, Yuli strung a blue bead onto his tunic. “This is for luck, so the Guardians will know to protect you.”
“Is that so?” he responded with a chuckle.
The girl nodded.
“Well, then, I will wear it always. Thank you. Goodbye now.”
The girl released him and waved.
Zephyron stood and headed to the door. Mayor Domnur watched from the window that separated the kitchen from the common room and nodded a silent thanks to the white-haired stranger as he disappeared through the front door.
Aria stared at the spot where Zephyron had sat just moments before. It was unfortunate those two were set on their quest for fools. She liked them.
Kharra stared downward through the darkness of the evening’s shadows. Her eyes barely acknowledged the area though as her mind searched for answers. She bit her lip and furrowed her brow. As she and Zephyron reached the edge of the village’s torchlight, she paused and looked back at the inn.
“Are you sure she was the one?” Zephyron asked, his warm voice low and subdued.
Kharra’s furrowed brow transformed into a confused scowl. “I’m certain of it.” She sighed in frustration. “We didn’t come halfway around the world for me to be wrong. There’s too much at stake.”
“Could you have misinterpreted?” he asked.
Kharra looked at him. “The dream?”
Zephyron nodded. “Your mother was right most of the time as well, but sometimes she misunderstood the message.”
“I suppose anything is possible, but I saw that woman’s face as clear as I see yours now,” Kharra said as she pointed toward the inn. “I mean, exact. It was not a figment of my imagination or some old dredged-up memory. And the tugging that brought me to this remote village…I still feel it. She’s the one I needed to find.”
“And you still don’t have any additional insight as to why we would need her?”
Kharra’s shoulders drooped as she shook her head. “No. It was your idea to ask her to be our guide.”
Zephyron gave a half chuckle and a grin. That grin almost always defused any of her negative feelings. “Well, we still need to get to Ei’ars’anu, and we don’t exactly know our way around this land. She is an experienced fighter and traveler. It’s not out of place for us to ask someone with those skills to be a guide. We would probably scare her away if we led with, ‘Hey, my friend here had a prophetic dream about you…’”
Kharra smirked and smacked his arm playfully. “Let’s camp nearby. I’m sure we’ll find some opportunity to interact with her again.”
Despite the momentary mirth, Kharra grew quiet again as they picked their trail through the lightly forested hills. So many things tugged at her mind, all vying for attention, and each brought with it its own magnitude of worry.
“You’re doing it again,” she vaguely heard Zephyron say. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
Kharra blinked at the change of Zephyron’s tone and looked up at her tall companion. “What?”
“That would be a no,” he responded. Despite the levity in his voice, there was an undercurrent of concern. “What’s wrong?”
Kharra sighed. “Have I done the right thing by coming here? What if the dream was just a dream? That could be a costly mistake.”
Zephyron studied her. “That’s not like you to question yourself.”
“I know. It’s just that if this is just a wild chase and we end up wasting months in this land while—”
Zephyron stopped and put a hand on her shoulder, interrupting her in the process. “Kharra, they are going to be fine.”
“But what—”
“Hey, they are building, not pressing a fight. Aerous is a big place, and Xareen doesn’t know where they are. Between your sister and Brii, that group of rabble will be in fighting condition by the time we return. You just focus on what we need to do here.”
Kharra sighed. “You’re right,” she said with a nod as she started to walk again. Jayde, she thought, please be safe. Though the worry for her sister lingered, she suppressed it as well as she could and forced herself to focus on her more immediate concerns.
Kharra did not often experience prophetic dreams, but when they occurred, she never confused them for regular dreams. Her mind somehow distinguished the difference. The one that compelled her to travel to Tanoria included the place called Ei’ars’anu, something called the Heart of the Sauru, and Aria. Prophetic dreams, though, proved difficult to decipher, so how everything fit together remained a mystery.
> Having met Aria in person, Kharra had found a tangible thread to follow but no answers as to how the kruusta fit into the bigger picture. They needed to learn more about Tanoria, its people, the shards, and Aria.
2
A SHARD IN PAIN
Aria left the Golden Rose and headed across the village green. Dozens of songbirds flitted about the small fruit trees that lined the grass-covered town center, singing their morning serenade beneath the sun of the early day. Aria inhaled deeply, letting the crisp spring air fill her lungs and the sounds of the village wash over her. Saws and hammers echoed off the circle of buildings surrounding the area. A horse snorted impatiently as its cart was loaded. A pair of small dogs yipped at a passing cat. She found all of the sounds around her to be soothing.
Aria took a well-worn path on the opposite side of the green. It wound beneath a series of large oaks and up a steep incline. Thick vine-like plants followed along the dirt-packed trail, meandering up and over rocks and fallen trees. A twig snapped to the left. Instinct compelled her to call forth her weapon, but it was only a young meadow deer pulling on low-hanging foliage. She clenched her fist and scolded herself for being jumpy. Even here, in this quaint little town, Aria found it difficult to relax. From her brief conversation with the Order of the Heart priests the night before, she had learned that four kruustas had died over the past two weeks. Danger defined a kruusta’s job, and occasional injury, sometimes serious, resulted from their work. On rare occasions one even died. But four deaths in such a short period of time never happened.
The temple’s chiseled stone steps came into view. On either side of the steps, massive granite statues depicted giant serpentine creatures. Dragons, the priests called them. According to the legends of old, dragons had once been the “Guardians” of the shards, though no one knew for sure what that meant. The dragons had disappeared from Tanoria a long time ago, but many pieces of art and architecture around the world still preserved their image.
A low wall circled the temple, its sides carved in a complicated and intricate relief pattern. Aria climbed the first ten steps, which were cut into the relief-carved wall. She came to an open area about three paces wide that followed along the top of the wall’s circumference. The area transitioned into a short path lined on either side by a series of thick round pillars holding up a heavy stone overhang.
Down the path and up the next four steps, Aria continued on through the temple’s open door. The small antechamber gave way to a vaulted ceiling that rose to dizzying heights. Even though she had been in and out of shard temples all her life, their architecture never ceased to amaze her.
A handful of worshippers dotted the pews, each kneeling and holding their steepled hands against their foreheads. The Order of the Shard held group services twice a week, but individuals often visited on their own to seek additional wisdom or courage, or some other form of enlightenment. An intake of breath from one of the worshippers brought up the heads of the others. Though none said a word, one by one, each person vacated the hall until no one but Aria remained.
Soft footsteps announced the arrival of the resident priest. “Ah,” said a familiar voice. “Aria, I received word that a kruusta had come to deal with the glimmer worm, but I did not expect to see you. You look well, the same as ever.”
Aria turned to the white-haired man. His face bore wrinkles around his eyes, cheeks, and forehead. A full head shorter than her, the priest wore a floor-length blue robe, a long golden chain about his neck, and a bracelet of crystal on his wrist. Priests wore the robe and chain as part of their normal outfit, but the bracelet was something new. She had seen three other priests with them during her travels over the past season; it must be some new fashion.
“Priest Malechi,” she said, “a pleasure to see you again.” He had just become an acolyte when she had been brought to the order to become a kruusta. In a way, the two had grown up together. Though never close, they had always been friendly as acquaintances. A kruusta’s lack of aging disturbed the average person but not the priests of the order. They understood the nature of the calling. “Though I have to say, a single glimmer worm is hardly worth the time of bringing in a kruusta.”
“True, but the people in this village are not fighters. They are simple farmers. They fear shard beasts of any type. I’m certain you are aware of the destruction the critter caused.”
“Yeah, I heard. I am a little concerned about that, but I’m surprised some of the local hunters failed to eliminate it.”
He studied her. “Have you come for your next assignment?”
Aria thought for a moment. “Yes and no. I’m here to commune.”
The priest raised an eyebrow. In general practice, the priests communed on behalf of the kruustas. While kruustas were not forbidden to commune, the practice was uncommon. “Is something bothering you?” he asked.
“Actually, yes. Last night I met a pair of travelers, strangers who didn’t know a thing about kruustas or the order. They wanted me to guide them to Death’s Pillar.”
“By the shard, you can’t be serious. You warned them of the dangers, right?” Malechi asked in earnest.
“Of course.”
“And you didn’t agree to take them, correct?”
“I turned them down, and they’ve already gone.”
“Then why do you need to commune? You did as you should have done.”
Aria shrugged. “Peace of mind, maybe. Direction. I’m not sure.”
“Why don’t I commune for you?” he insisted. “Remember, I trained for this. I will let you know what the Prime Shard desires.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I feel the need to do this myself.”
The priest’s lips grew taut. “Very well. I will leave you be.”
“Thank you,” Aria said as the priest departed through a side door. Once he disappeared, she moved through the central chamber toward the dais. The metal tips and heels of her boots clinked against the polished gray tiles. She studied the grand, ornate windows lining the tops of the walls, taking comfort from the lively cacophony of color sparkling from their murals of stained glass.
Aria arrived at the dais and pulled aside a velvet curtain, revealing the brilliant white-and-violet-streaked shard. Its pearlescent sheen brought a smile to her face. A golden filigree frame outlined where the base of the shard came up through the floor. For as long as anyone could remember, it had been considered a grave offense to sever and move a shard. Because of their immobility, ancient people long ago built shard temples around the crystalline formations. Over time, town centers grew around most of those temples. That had happened a long time ago.
In the centuries since those ancient days, human populations had continued to grow and expand, and over time people left the villages and cities with shard temples to establish new communities until only a fraction of the total villages and towns possessed temples. As a result, many people started traveling for leagues to visit them in order to have their prayers heard.
With each shard connected to the Prime Shard in the holy city of Aloazai and the Prime Shard serving as the physical conduit for the Great Consciousness, the priests could commune with their local shards in order to interpret the will of the Prime Shard and respond to those prayers.
Aria pulled back her tan doeskin cloak and knelt down on the curved hassock. She closed her eyes, lifted her hands, and placed them against the shard’s smooth surface. She steeled herself for the flood of energy and emotion she had experienced the only other time she had communed. Nothing. Aria concentrated harder, hoping maybe she was just out of practice. Still, nothing happened.
Concerned, Aria released the tip of her krusword from her hand, allowing it to make contact with the shard. Using her own crystal as a conduit, she allowed her consciousness to follow down through her sword and delve deeper into the shard’s consciousness. At first, only darkness filled her mind’s eye, and only her own distant thoughts tumbled in the background. But then at last she detected something. A slow, r
hythmic pulse beat weakly. The pulse climbed sluggishly up through her sword and tugged at her crystal. Her mind, now able to see the blue nimbus of energy, followed where the shard’s energy finally met up with her own. It lunged at her spark of life and clung to it like one who came upon a river after days in the desert.
The pulse she sensed was slow and laborious, not unlike the faltering heartbeat of an animal on the verge of death. Her stomach grew cold. The shard reached into her heart. Sadness filled her. Since time immemorial there had been trust, cooperation, love, and communication. Now fire and agony flayed the exposed nerves of her spine, and sorrow with the weight of a mountain pressed down on her. Aria’s chest and throat constricted, aching physically as she shared in the shard’s suffering. Every emotional conduit of her body and mind swam with anguish.
At last Aria retracted her sword and released the shard. Tears bubbled along her closed eyelids. She took several long breaths, and the feeling of despair reluctantly loosened its grip on her chest. Aria opened her eyes and was startled to find the temple dark. Isor, the sun, had long since set, and the only illumination in the room came from the candles lining the spacious hall.
Aria looked around the room, wincing at the stiffness in her hips as she stood. She stretched her legs, unsure why a few hours in commune would leave her feeling rigid. As she turned to leave, her boots scuffed lightly against the tile, but the ting that reverberated across the room may as well have been a roar. Priest Malechi appeared from the side door.
“At last you finish your commune. I could have done it much faster for you, had you let me.”
“Faster? How long was I in the trance?”
“You began your commune two mornings ago.”
“Two days? I thought I was there for just a few minutes.”
The priest nodded. “It is easy for one to get lost in prayer. Did you find the enlightenment you sought?”
Aria frowned. “I’m not certain.”
“Don’t fret. You would not be the first one to walk away without a response. That’s why the priests are needed.”
