by Lori Hyrup
“I…don’t know definitively,” said Zephyron. “The few I encountered face-to-face tried to kill me, so we only exchanged the briefest of dialogues. I threw the question at them, of course, but they never gave me a clear answer. Kharra has a pretty solid theory though.”
“Oh?” asked Aria, shifting her gaze back to the young woman.
Kharra nodded. “I’ve had encounters with their leader, Xareen, and a few others who worked with her. As former Guardians—they all still have their Guardian powers—they’re more difficult to read than humans, but I was still able to pick fragments from their minds.”
“And that gave you enough for a theory?”
“I think so. As Zephyron pointed out, despite what the stories say, Guardians are not gods. Mattekan, for all its power, is a being of harmony. The Guardians were meant to be a conduit between Mattekan and those who live upon its surface, but many Guardians come from humanity. Much of that humanity remains with them even after they are called.”
“Oh…” said Aria, “I think I see where this is going. They weren’t gods, but they wanted to be?”
Kharra smiled. “That’s my theory. They didn’t want to serve. They wanted to be worshipped.”
“Seems like they had a population of couren to worship them. Why would they bother starting a war?”
It was Zephyron who responded. “Because a large population of leyoen users could challenge them and because new Guardians are called from those with leyoen. If the Betrayers eliminated or controlled that population, then no one could stop them.”
“They almost succeeded in wiping us out,” said Kharra, her voice tinged with sorrow. “I think Mattekan has some awareness of that, but its way of thinking is so foreign to our own that I can’t be certain. Still, I received a vision in a dream, one I believe to be prophetic.”
“And that’s what brought you here to Tanoria?” asked Aria.
“Yes,” Kharra replied. “I needed Zephyron’s help decoding it, but we determined that I needed to travel to Ei’ars’anu and retrieve something called the Heart of the Sauru. Whatever it is, it will prove instrumental to the future of the world.”
“That’s a lot of pressure for one so young.”
Kharra shrugged. “I don’t see it that way. I have friends and family who help me shoulder the burden.”
“You know, you’re very wise for one so young,” said Aria.
Zephyron chuckled, his usual mirth restored. “That’s just one of the reasons she’s the leader and why the people of Aerous still have a chance.” As the group continued on the path to Braylore, talk of war and betrayal waned to be replaced with topics of a more casual nature.
7
THE SHARD’S EMBRACE
Aria and her two companions arrived in Braylore shortly before dusk two days after leaving White Bluff. Their trip through the Byannu Hills was almost uneventful save for a small run-in with a nest of young glimmer worms. Aria and Zephyron dispatched the entire group of them within minutes while Kharra merely remained watchful from the side of the trail. The creatures never stood a chance; Aria almost felt bad for them. Almost. The rest of the trip afforded Aria the time to become better acquainted with both Kharra and Zephyron. For reasons she could not explain, she felt more comfortable around them than she had around anyone, even other kruustas. It was not just that they accepted what she was and would become nor was it the lack of fear from either of them; it went deeper, something she could not quite pinpoint.
Entering Braylore shattered Aria’s comfort. At the sight of her, people of the town ushered their children indoors and averted their eyes. If it was not the crystal in her hand, then it was her eyes that always gave her away. They were still the green color she had been born with, but as part of becoming a kruusta, they had gained a luminescent quality others found unsettling. The longer one was a kruusta, the more profound the effect became. Aria sighed. She caught sight of Kharra watching with a thinly veiled look of sympathy. Aria gave her a tight appreciative smile.
Five times the size of White Bluff, Braylore boasted several inns. Aria skipped the first one, the Angry Ale Inn. She had stayed there twice before, but the inn’s name seemed to attract loud, rowdy clientele. The innkeeper did not care so long as someone paid for the drinks—not the type of relaxing atmosphere Aria desired. Instead Aria chose to continue on through the town to the Laughing Owl.
Only two small groups of patrons and two additional individuals occupied the main floor of the Laughing Owl. Every one of them stopped talking or eating to watch the three new arrivals. Their faces boasted a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Even though Aria avoided meeting anyone’s eyes, the crystal visible on her hand caught the light streaming in from the door, making it impossible for anyone to miss. It was the appearance of her companions, though, that overrode the apprehension of some. Zephyron cut a striking image in any environment, and Kharra, small with her warm smile, could never be mistaken for anything but a kind soul. The three of them together were the cause of the curiosity.
Aria’s gaze swept around the room, noting every detail. Zephyron did the same. Kharra, on the other hand, walked out in front of them to meet a woman who rushed out to greet the group.
The woman, seeing the kruusta, almost overlooked Kharra. Her eyes focused on Aria. While many people preferred to avoid kruustas, most innkeepers appreciated their patronage. They always paid their tab, never created a mess, and always provided respectable gratuity. On top of that, with the exception of the Angry Ale Inn and other poorly run establishments like it, the presence of a kruusta usually kept troublemakers away.
Kharra stepped in front of the woman and said, “Excuse me.”
Startled, the woman looked at Kharra, then Aria, and then back to Kharra. “Sorry, yes. What did you need?” the woman asked, flustered in front of the kruusta.
“My companions and I,” Kharra began, nodding to Aria and Zephyron, “would like to get three rooms for this evening.”
Both of Aria’s eyebrows climbed high, but she said nothing.
“Oh, you’re together,” she said in surprise. “I’m so sorry.” She looked up at Aria and then back at Kharra, “I just assumed…” The woman threw up her hands and gave her complete attention to Kharra. “My name is Vera. I’m the innkeeper here. Three rooms, you said?” Kharra and the woman moved off to the side to negotiate the arrangements while Aria went back outside to retrieve their gear from Xierex. Zephyron joined her.
“Once we get settled, I’m going to visit the shard temple,” she told him as she unstrapped his pack and handed it to him.
Zephyron took his pack from her. “Thank you,” he said. “I’d like to join you, if you don’t mind.”
Aria looked up from the second pack she was working to remove. “If you’re concerned for my safety, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Zephyron displayed his signature grin. “I’m certain you can handle yourself. I’m still curious about your land and these shards.” Aria found his grin infectious, and she smiled in return. How could this same man have such a startling effect on her when he pierced her with his serious gaze?
“Oh, sure,” she found herself saying. “You’re welcome to come along.”
“Thanks,” he said with the briefest of nods. Aria handed him the second pack and nodded in return.
Aria and Zephyron returned to the common room of the Laughing Owl and found the woman and Kharra shaking hands.
“Enjoy your stay,” the woman said.
“We will. Thank you.”
With a gesture of her head, Kharra led the way up the stairs, around two left turns of the hallway, and to the last three doors on the floor. Kharra opened the doors for them so they could drop their packs. Zephyron disappeared into the second of the three rooms, allowing Aria to stop at the first.
The rooms were much nicer than Aria would have selected, and her wide eyes betrayed her surprise. “Don’t worry,” Kharra said. “I got these for a good price.”
“Good price or
not, these rooms can’t be cheap. Where in the world are you getting your money?”
“We bartered quite a few goods when we first arrived in Summerton,” Kharra answered, “including several of Zephyron’s carvings. We have enough money to last a while.”
Aria gave her a doubtful look. If any merchant realized a pair of foreigners had a lot of loose coin, that surplus would soon disappear. “I get a regular stipend that covers my expenses,” Aria said as she looked about the room, “but I’m used to being much more frugal.”
“Considering how many times we’ve been and will be sleeping in a bedroll on the ground, I consider an occasional room at an inn to be money well spent.”
Aria hefted her pack onto the polished wooden stand against the far wall and raised an eyebrow in Kharra’s direction. Zephyron returned from dropping off their packs. “She’s a skilled negotiator,” he said, leaning against the doorway behind Kharra.
“Is that like your other skills?” Aria wanted to know.
“Not directly, no,” Kharra responded. “However, it does help me to interpret a person’s comfort level. If they feel really strongly about something though, I can’t help but pick up on that as well.”
“Handy,” was all Aria could think to say in response.
“Kharra,” Zephyron said, “Aria and I are going to head up to the shard temple.”
“Okay, I’ll stick around here.”
Zephyron looked at Aria. “Are you ready to go now, or did you need some food and rest first?”
“I would prefer to go now while it’s still light.” With that the two of them bid Kharra goodbye and made their way to the shard temple.
The shard temple was south on the outskirts of the village. Sitting by itself atop a lonely hill, it looked like a weathered sentinel who had refused to give up his post. Though easily seen from a long ways off, the walk to reach it took ten minutes. A sea of tall green grass to either side of the trail rippled beneath the gentle winds sweeping through the area. Aria inhaled but did not speak. Neither did Zephyron. In fact when she glanced his way, she found the Guardian walking with his eyes closed and his head tilted back. He breathed slowly, appearing relaxed. Aria smiled to herself and turned her attention back to the temple ahead.
As they drew closer to the hill, grass gave way to dozens of fine-limbed trees standing five times her height. The pink tips of the cherry blossom buds dotted the otherwise green trees. They would bloom very soon, and the entire area would transform into a weeping pink cloud of beauty and tranquility. People from the surrounding villages would journey to Braylore for the Cherry Blossom Carnival where they could enjoy the festivities—music, exotic foods, competitions, acrobatics, menageries, even fireworks—and visit the temple, finding inspiration in sight of the cherry blossom grove. Other places had cherry blossom trees, but none had a grove such as the one that grew here.
Aria sighed. Her life had a singular purpose—the destruction of shard beasts. She believed it a noble purpose; she performed a service for Tanoria so that others could enjoy life without the fear of monsters. Now that she knew she was near the end of her days, she felt a pang of regret at missing simple pleasures such as festivals dedicated to blooming trees.
What would it feel like to be able to live openly in a small town or village? Would she own a small cottage? Raise chickens? Maybe knit blankets that she could then sell at the local market? She chuckled internally as images of her chasing chickens flitted through her head.
Other kruustas, on occasion, tried to integrate themselves into normal society, but such interaction was fleeting at best. Even in the rare instances in which a kruusta had become accepted, it only took the whiff of a rumor that another village had been attacked by a krumetus to remind the people of the danger of associating with a kruusta. After all, who knew when this one might go through conversion and attack their children? It was only when a shard beast was already present and threatening a village or city that someone called in a kruusta to eradicate the problem.
“Are you okay?” Zephyron asked, his voice gentle.
Aria looked at him. He was watching her with one eye, the other closed against the glare of the sun. “Of course. Why?”
“You look a bit down.”
“Just…reflecting,” she answered.
Zephyron pursed his lips but continued to watch her. “Nature has that type of power over us,” he said with a gesture toward the trees above them. “I do the same from time to time. Sometimes I wonder how my life would have been had I been born at a different time or if my options had been different.”
Aria studied the tall Guardian. “You’ve had to bear a lot of burdens over the years. Does it ever become too much?”
Surprising Aria, the Guardian nodded. “There were times when I thought it would swallow me.”
“How do you not just give up?”
“I’ve been close. Then I remind myself that there are people who care about me and whom I care about in return. I know that if I did give up, they’d be hurt, and that is something my heart can’t tolerate. I will continue to bear these burdens for as long as I have the ability to do so. However, it doesn’t mean that I don’t take the time to appreciate the beauty of life.
“You and I, we’re not all that different.”
Aria averted her eyes from the Guardian and looked up at the tree branches. True, their burdens were similar, if hers not quite as extensive as his, but it was the other side of the equation she was missing—the balance. It was only her sense of duty that kept her grounded. Was that why others went through conversion earlier than she? Because they gave up?
“Different enough. I have no relatives and few friends. I doubt anyone would miss me if I died tomorrow.”
“That is where you and I would have to agree to disagree.”
Aria’s head whipped in his direction. “You know nothing of my personal life,” she said, harsher than she intended. “You’ve not been in Tanoria long enough to grasp what I am. People are afraid of me. They think I’ll eat their children, and I don’t really blame them. The monsters that we inevitably become might not stop at the children. Trust me, no one would miss me except as a tool that would need to be replaced.”
Zephyron’s eyebrows creased, and his face darkened. Oddly though he said nothing. Was he angry with her?
The kruusta and the Guardian walked the rest of the distance to the temple in silence. The path veered west. Zephyron’s reaction continued to weigh on her mind until the rising walls of the temple buildings came into view. Here, the packed dirt path and cherry blossom trees both ended at a courtyard-like area of low-cut grass and square stone slabs.
No two shard temples were the same. Braylore’s temple was several thousand years old, consisting of five orange-tinted brick towers on a common terrace. Facing east and surrounded by a small moat of gurgling water, this particular temple was well-known for its striking lines and symmetry. The middle tower stood higher than the rest and featured diminishing tiers carved to mimic the look of a cascading waterfall.
Aria continued walking through the courtyard toward the central tower. The interior of the building revealed several large bas-relief depictions of a particular dragon the priests called Krushnu. The images were carved into the walls of orange brick, which were connected by a compound made of vegetable matter.
In one relief Krushnu sat amid hundreds of crystal shards with his head pulled back and raised high as if looking off into the distance. The theme of a second image showed Krushnu and several smaller dragons fighting against humans: some armed with weapons, some with water, some with fire, and others with weapons Aria could not identify. In a third image, hundreds of humans huddled behind Krushnu, who was shown with a raised talon from which radiated a hemispherical shield. The shield appeared to hold off hordes of grotesque creatures and one giant serpentlike creature that drove them forward. Broken crystal shards surrounded their feet. In a final image, Krushnu lay lifeless on a pyre, with humans on their knees weeping around
him. One particular human, called Daruuk by the priests, was surrounded by what looked like a radiating glow. His eyes were closed, and his hand rested on Krushnu’s head.
Not even the priests knew the original story of Krushnu or why the images were carved, but many temples had them, no two alike, and the priests taught their own interpretations as to what they meant.
Zephyron paused at the fourth image. His face betrayed nothing, but with his finger, he traced the lines of Krushnu’s fallen form. He then closed his eyes and lowered his head, though his hand continued to rest on the image.
“Please,” a voice called from the far end of the chamber, “don’t touch that.” The elderly priest scurried up the aisle that split a dozen rows of polished rosewood benches. Aria recognized Priest Gavron from her previous stops in the village.
Without raising his head, Zephyron opened his eyes and rotated his view to watch the approach of the slight man in his blue robes. When the priest gazed upon Zephyron’s intense visage, the man stopped midstride.
The man’s face paled. He licked his lips and swallowed. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I did not mean to come off as rude.” The priest looked at Aria and then back to Zephyron. One corner of Aria’s lips twitched as she tried not to smile. She had been on the receiving end of that gaze, so she understood what the poor priest felt. “It is just that the oils on people’s fingers, over time, cause the images to wear down. We are making efforts to better preserve them, particularly these of Krushnu and Daruuk. There are not many of these left in such good condition.”
Suddenly, Zephyron smiled. “No offense taken, good priest. It is good that you care so much for such treasures. Who did you say these were?”
The priest, appearing more comfortable under Zephyron’s smile, walked up to stand beside Aria’s tall, white-haired companion. Short for a man, the top of the priest’s head did not even reach Zephyron’s shoulder. “The dragon here is the god Krushnu, and the man next to him is his follower, Daruuk. These images come from a time when dragons and demons fought to claim the souls of man. In the end Krushnu gave his life to protect Daruuk’s soul, who would in turn lead humanity into the light of the First Shard.”
