by Casey Eanes
“I’m sorry; Adley, but you were my only way out of Cotswold. We had to get to Vale. Ewing knows someone who can help me find my dad.”
Adley’s expression flew from shock to anger.
“What? What did you say, Kull?”
Kull could not bear to look into her piercing brown eyes. “I wasn’t accepted into the Academy…and Ewing did not need any rare blood type…but we both needed to get to Vale. You were our only option.”
“Well, this is the last time I’m an ‘option’ for you, Kull Shepherd.” She threw her hands to her sides. “I can’t believe you did this. I did NOT want to help you get yourself killed! And you lied to me!? I thought you actually wanted to help. Unbelievable! How could you be so selfish?”
Kull tried to find the words to say, but fell short. Adley shook her head and turned away from them.
“Fine. Do what you want, but don’t bother dragging me into the middle of it again. I have to go to Tindler for people who actually need me to help save their lives, and not run off on suicide missions.”
Kull chased after her and grabbed her shoulder as she began to rush for the hospital doors. Her face was flushed and she huffed as he turned her back to him.
“Adley, there was no other way!” Frustration ramped inside him as he apologized. “I’m sorry, alright! We lied to you, but you just helped me save my dad’s life.”
Adley’s eyes began to tear up. Ewing, for once, remained silent as the two quarreled.
“Kull, you’ve lost your mind! What makes you think you can take on the Grogans? They took your dad! He couldn’t even handle them, so what makes you think you can? There is a war going on out there! A war. This is not a game! And you left your dying mother behind to get yourself killed.”
“You think I don’t know that, Adley?” Ewing placed a hand on Kull’s back to steady him. “I have to try. I can’t just…” Hot tears formed in his eyes, but he fought them back in protest. “I can’t just let them take him. I have to fight, and don’t bring mom into this. I promised her I would bring dad back. She knows the cost. I know the cost, and I have to go after them!”
Adley’s face remained stoic.
“This is stupid, Kull. Our armies can barely hold the Grogans back from Vale.” Kull was just about to row into her again, but Adley grabbed his hand and stared into his eyes. “I can’t stand the thought that I may have just helped you get one step closer to getting yourself killed. I am going to let the guards know you need to be escorted back. This is just wrong.”
“Don’t!” Kull tempered his anger. “Look, I’m sorry. I truly am, but this is not your call. I can’t just sit around, Adley. They are going to kill him. Once they get what they want, they will kill him.”
“And what is that, Kull? What do they want?” Adley stared at him.
“I...I don’t know...” The wind had been knocked out of him.
“Come on, lad.” Ewing broke Kull’s gaze from Adley. “We need to find my friend, and the day is almost spent. He’ll be making his way out of Vale soon, and... I doubt I will be able to help much longer.”
Kull looked at Ewing. He was as white as a sheet. They needed to hurry.
Kull swallowed hard and looked back at Adley. “Listen, Adley.” He grasped for words that would make it all better, but found none. “I’m sorry.”
Adley looked at him, cut her eyes down, and said nothing as she turned around and bolted into the hospital.
“Adley, wait!” Kull shouted.
“Let her go, Kull! She has her choices, and you have yours. Let her make this choice.” Kull could feel Ewing’s stare boring into his back as he reproached him. He relented and turned around.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Kull got behind his friend and began to push his wheelchair up the cobblestone alley as guilt weighed down each step he took. He did not have long to feel guilty though, as Ewing began barking turn by turn directions. Kull dutifully followed each direction as he labored to push the portly old brute along the cobbled streets.
Ewing’s directions eventually brought them to a shadowy alley leading to a single iron door. He was shocked as Ewing forced himself to hobble up on his one good leg and knock on it. A small window flew open, and Ewing whispered something to the person on the other side. Kull heard the thick metal bolt behind the door unlatch, and it swung open with a low moan. There, much to Kull’s surprise, was a monk from the Preost Forest. The white-robed figure didn't say a word, but motioned them forward. Careful to bolt back the heavy door, the monk led them both toward a small stone chapel surrounded by a beautiful garden of blooming red roses. Despite the tall towers surrounding them, sunlight poured throughout the hidden courtyard, and Kull was shocked to find that such a peaceful place existed deep within the bustling streets of Vale.
The monk motioned for them to enter the chapel. As Ewing and Kull entered the small alcove of the sanctuary they were greeted by a low, brooding growl. When Kull saw the origin of the growl, he wanted to bolt for the door, but Ewing held him in place, his grip firm. There, deep within the chapel, was a praying ebony-skinned monk accompanied by a wild, bearish dog. Kull could barely hold back the questions and fear bubbling within him as he stared at the dog lying by this mysterious monk’s side.
Kull whispered, unable to contain himself, “This is your friend, Ewing?”
Ewing whispered back, “Be quiet! And yes, this is my friend. Hush now.”
But Kull could not hush. “You never told me you were friends with a Preost monk.”
Ewing quickly snapped back, “There are many things I have not told you. Now hush! You are never supposed to interrupt a Preost monk’s prayers. It’s just plain bad luck.”
Kull rolled his eyes. “I never took you as one who weighed out luck.”
“I don’t. But I make an exception with priests, monks, and witches and anyone else who has dealings with the Beyond. You’d be smart to do the same.”
The lone cloaked figure sat cross-legged on the white marble floor of the bare room surrounded by candlelight, his lips fluttering rapidly, his eyes held shut. His dark skin served a stark contrast to the intricate ash patterns that wove and swirled over his face. He wore only a coarse gray tunic, and an ironwood staff lay beside him on the ground. He prayed unlike anyone Kull had seen before, for no cleric Kull ever encountered prayed with such quiet intensity. Whatever the monk was saying, it was not meant for his ears or as a showcase of outward piety, yet Kull could not shake off how fierce his face looked.
The only thing more ferocious in the room was the hulking beast of a dog that greeted them upon their entrance. In all his life Kull had never seen a dog more horrible. Its face was a brutal display of disfigurement and scars, like a tattered quilt of fur with long, white teeth. It glared at him, staring him down with its one good eye, the other a hollow scar of patchwork from some unknown battle. Flashing a fraught warning toward him and Ewing, the beast raised one side of its scarred mouth, bearing a row of white fangs. A low, rumbling growl began to build.
The monk broke off his prayer for a quick pause. “Rot,” the monk said.
The hound whined and ceased his grumbling, but continued to monitor Kull and Ewing with suspicion.
Silence followed the man’s prayers, and the lull lingered and built until Kull felt like he could stand it no longer. He was about to step toward the bowed, silent stranger when Ewing swung his hand around and grabbed Kull by the arm.
“Selah.” The stranger’s whisper was barely audible.
Without any warning the monk stood to a great height and opened up his eyes, looking down at the two who were trying their best not to interrupt his meditations.
He smiled, showing his crisp, white teeth, as a deep, earthy voice rolled out in greeting. “Arthur Ewing, my friend. I am glad that you are here.”
The voice. It boomed with a depth and tenor that was sweet and serious, fluid and solid, as if everything in the world was boiled down into its essence and then wrapped up into a sound. As if t
his were not enough, Kull was taken aback by how tall the man actually stood. Bowing, his figure was imposing, but standing, his presence was unmistakable. He was easily a foot taller than Kull, if not more. His taut arms, muscled frame, and stature radiated with a strength that could not be hidden under his simple gray robes.
“My dear, Wael. So pleasant to see you again. May Aleph’s blessing be upon you.”
Kull’s eyebrows rose to the sound of Ewing’s strange talk. Ewing was actually showcasing piety and reverence, and it was, to boot, believable. What is going on? Kull was dumbfounded. Gone was the sly cunning and sharp tongue that marked his friend so well. He glanced over at the man who had been his father’s companion for what seemed like ages, confused by this sudden shift in his demeanor.
Wael’s face frowned as he glanced at Ewing’s leg. “My friend, it is you who looks to be in need of a blessing. Is this the work of Grogan hands?”
Ewing coughed, embarrassed. “Unfortunately so, my friend. Cotswold will never be the same. The Grogans all but burnt it to the ground, but our town fought the best they could.”
Wael winced at this news. The large hound by his side stood up and sat by his master, continuing to stare at them with his good eye full of distrust. Kull could clearly see now that what the dog lacked in looks, it made up in strength. Sitting down the muscular hound’s head came above Wael’s hip, taller than any dog Kull had ever seen. The beast made Kull’s mouth dry out with fear. What kind of man keeps an animal like this?
Wael spoke, “It is terrible to have them on the warpath again. They are a hard people whose lust for power rivals any I’ve met as a member of my Order. The Realms cannot continue to handle all of this upheaval and bloodshed.”
“Have you gotten word, Wael? Have the other Brothers sent you to bargain?” Ewing’s question made no sense to Kull.
What are they talking about?
Wael replied, “Yes. I am going directly into the Groganlands to seek and broker a truce. I am to meet with Sar Hagan himself, if he will have me. This war must end. I am shocked to think Hagan would even allow such brutality. The Alephian monks have...” Wael trailed off, his eyes for the first time focusing on Kull.
Kull gulped.
“Who is this you have brought to me, Ewing?” The monk’s voice seemed to flow into Kull, causing his heart to explode with a quickening.
“Oh, yes...my apologies, Wael. Let me introduce to you someone you know quite well.”
“What?” Kull blurted out.
Ewing shook his head, “Yes, Kull. This is Wael, the Mastermonk of the Alephian order. He comes from the Sanctuary of Preost. Rose and Grift had him bless you when you were born, though I’m sure you were too young to remember that.”
Memory washed over Kull’s mind like a wave.
Cotswold fields.
A family gathering.
Laughing.
A celebration.
His mother was there, smiling with pure, unmarred vitality, her long auburn hair flowing. Whatever disease she bore could not be seen now. Grift was there too, and he was smiling. It was an odd collage of youth and happiness that seemed foreign to Kull. It was something he had not seen much of growing up. They had been together as a family, and the sun warmed them as the dark man, this man, poured oil over the baby’s head. The baby. That was him.
Kull looked away, the memory receding from his mind as he fought the tears welling up in his eyes. It was as if he had been transported to another time, as if a dream had become reality. Wael kindly glanced at Kull with a knowing look and smiled quietly.
“I believe Kull does remember me, Ewing, but I was only a footnote on that day. Young man, you have grown, and I can see much of your father in you...as well as your mother.” The pause lingered as Wael weighed his words. “And now you are both here. I take it, Kull, that you wish to join me in searching for your father in the Groganlands?”
“How did you know that?” Kull was shocked to know this monk knew of everything already. Ewing had not communicated his plan to anyone on the journey to Vale. The thought that he may have some inside information on his father’s disappearance caused a great uneasiness to rise in Kull’s chest. Was it possible for this monk to have helped lead to his father’s capture?
Wael cleared his throat and glanced at Ewing with a smile. “It seems since your mother’s sickness, your father has done you a disservice in not getting you involved within the fold.”
Ewing coughed nervously and smiled, trying to avoid Wael’s keen gaze.
Wael continued, “Kull, maybe you haven’t been taught about my kind. In my Order we have certain...certain gifts that have been passed down for generations. These gifts are given from Aleph, and we use them to conduct the work of Aleph on this plane. The memory that fell into your mind was one that I projected onto you. It is my memory and mine alone...I just wanted to share it with you.”
Kull did his best to comprehend the vision of seeing both his mother and his father together, young, full of life, and carefree. The thought roared in his heart and choked him up with another swell of rampant emotion. How could such a reality exist? All his life, Kull had known two absolute facts; his mother was sick and his father was a Guardsman. Those two facts meant that he would have to bear his family’s burdens alone. Turning back to the monk, Kull muttered out a single question: “Why?” The emotional turbulence of this encounter was something he had not prepared for, and he did not understand how any of it related to rescuing his dad.
Wael leaned down and put his hand on Kull’s shoulder. “I need you to trust me. If you are to come with me to the Groganlands, as I believe you wish to do, then I hope that by sharing that memory I can earn your trust. I know both your father and your mother very well, and they share a special bond with me. It is for this reason I am going to help you find your father.”
Wael glanced down at Kull, his eyes widening. “What do you have?”
“What?” Kull didn’t understand.
“Did your mother give you something?” Wael’s eyes stared at Kull’s chest, directly at the charm his mother gave him, hidden underneath his shirt.
Kull reached for it and pulled it out. The rune for Aleph bounced in the candlelight. “This?”
Wael stared at the pendant, his lips pursed. “Yes. It was good for your mother to give you the emblem. She understood that you needed it now.”
“It was you?” Kull asked, stammering. Ewing shuffled nervously behind them as Kull lost himself deep within the monk’s wide eyes. “You were the monk that gave her the necklace. I do remember you.”
Wael smiled and spoke, “Your memory serves you well. I gave that emblem of Aleph long ago to your mother, and now she has given it to you.” The monk leaned in closer as a serious whisper crept from his lips, “She asked you to find your father, didn’t she?”
Kull was floored, but he spoke boldly. “She did. She told me to go after dad. To bring him back. She said it was more important than staying with her. She gave me this pendent, and that is why I am here.”
Wael nodded, allowing silence to fill the room. “She gave you much more than a pendent, Kull, but that is a tale for another time. That gift will help you greatly to find your father.”
Kull stared at Wael. “Can’t you just use your...gifts and find him?”
Wael picked up his ironwood staff and shifted his weight onto the massive weapon. The hound stood up with him.
“Kull, I wish it were that easy. Unfortunately, Aleph’s gifts do not grant the bearer with unlimited scope or insight. I do not know if your father is still alive. So we must hurry. If Grift still lives, then I fear for his safety. If he spends too much time in the hands of the Grogan interrogators his mind may never return. The Grogans,” Wael paused, “know not only how to kill the body, but are also skilled in flaying one’s spirit and mind. We need to get to Grift quickly.”
Kull’s head began to spin as his heart throbbed inside his chest. Each breath became heavy and labored. The thought of losing h
is father was unbearable. Kull straightened himself up, shaking off the fear and doubt that had begun to weigh on him.
“So you don’t know he is alive?”
“Kull, I cannot promise you the outcome you desire.” Wael closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “There will be much to do and much for you to learn along the way.” The monk held out his powerful right hand. “You must make an oath to me, Kull Shepherd, to follow my instructions once we leave Lotte. The way to the Groganlands is fraught with many dangers, and I must have your absolute cooperation if you and your father have any hope of surviving."
Kull’s hand folded over Wael’s. “I promise.”
“Very well then. We will leave tonight.”
Ewing piped in. “Wael, what can I do for you and the boy?” Kull had nearly forgotten about Ewing during the exchange.
