* * * * *
“Fate…” Kalinies, so involved with the book, failed to hear the door unlatch once more or even the King calling out to him.
Already anxious and in a vile mood, Idimus waited for only a moment, the door had not been broken and he failed to see the shattered window. The Wizard had to be in here, but the King wondered where. “Kalinies!” He barked as his lips curled, a sharp echo resounding through the hallways. After another grueling moment Idimus heard a pair of anxious footsteps racing down a far off corridor. Kalinies finally exited out of the back row, a wild look in his eye.
“I’m sorry My Lord,” he rushed, approaching and bowing several times. The hunger, lack of sleep, and non-stop research had made him slightly maddened. “Forgive me,” he whispered, turning his frantic eyes towards the ground.
“Only if you have found something useful.”
With his gaze still focused on the tiles, a demented smile wavered, “Yes, Liege.”
The King sat in silence for a moment before finally rolling his eyes out of irritation, frustrated he actually had to voice the question, “What…” he bit, “Did you find?”
“Oh, yes—of course. Fate is a weapon, sort of. She’s a woman. Well…was a woman, though not anymore.”
At that very instant the King wished he had something to slam his fist upon, aside from the Wizard, “Speak slowly…coherently.”
“Yes, sorry Liege. During the First War…are you aware of the First War, Lord?”
“No, it’s not my job to know history.”
Kalinies nodded slowly, realizing that a brief overview would be necessary for him to truly comprehend how powerful Fate was. “The First War refers to a much earlier era, long before even time was recorded. Eldonia was not always this structured, this peaceful. Long ago, it was split into two parts. Those who followed that of Yavale, and those who followed…” the wizard paused for a moment, realizing it didn’t have a name. “Something else, something evil. And each side had their respective lands, the mists of Sayassa, which forms the barrier far to the north and the fogs of Urvagh. In that time, they were not impenetrable as they are now. They flowed freely into the world and often creatures that resided there would enter into Eldonia.”
Idimus narrowed his eyes slightly, “But they are sealed now…”
“Yes Sire. You see that is how the First war came to receive its name. For centuries, the two deities battled to gain control over all of Eldonia. The world, however, remained torn. At first it was only the Gods themselves that battled, but each was equally powerful so they never gained any ground. Upon the thousandth year of their war, each made the choice that the dominant reign could not be decided between them, but by who they were able to choose. The deities gambled with our very world and let the outcome of it rest on the shoulders of three chosen warriors. On the side of Yavale were the White Flame, the White Cross, and the White Shadow. On “its” side The Black Soul, The Black Heart, and The Black Scar. They had ten years to train their respective warriors and, much like your war, the winner would determine the dominant reign for a thousand years.”
Idimus shifted his stance, his eyes growing cold and impatient, “What does this have to do with Fate?”
“Apologies my King. The White Flame was Yavale’s greatest warrior and his strongest hope to win. He trained under Yavale directly, living within Sayassa. Three, maybe four years into his training, the White Flame fell in love with a creature that came from Sayassa, what they called a “form changer.” Someone with the ability to mimic or represent anything they chose: people, plants, animals, anything. They were very few, but incredibly powerful. The White Flame and the form changer, Fate, spent every day together for six years. Yet she was not one of the chosen and the rules decreed that only the three humans could enter the battle. So Fate, in order to protect her one, true love sacrificed her life as a living being and used her abilities to turn herself into a weapon—a sword—that the White Flame would wield. One that would always protect him as she swore she always would. To be at his side forever.”
For a moment, a tiny shard in time, the King’s mood picked up. “Interesting…” Though it did not last long and his grave nature returned, “Where is she?”
Kalinies held his finger up to ask the King to wait, then used his other to scrape through the book. “Part of it is lost, but where it begins ‘…choose. Fate is unbendable, unbreakable. No weapon forged can match her, no soul of evil withstand her. Her power is without limits, her abilities without boundaries. Such a sword would be grave in the hands of darkness. When the White Flame ascended, he carried Fate with him, only to be handed down to Trestys the Holy. After his fall, Fate was hidden deep within Sayassa once more, placed safely behind three trials: one of the body, of the mind, and of faith—Fate lays, waiting for a Champion with the strength, intelligence, and hope to free her.”
Idimus stared far off, finally having the answers he was looking for but only more questions came to light with them, “Sayassa…”
“Aye.”
Idimus, though calm on the surface, now had discovered a very difficult task. “How does one enter the mists?”
“Only deities and souls are allowed that I know.”
Suddenly, the King turned and began rushing from the room. Again, Kalinies panicked, fearing that he was to be left behind to find a way into the mist. “My Lord, where are you going?” the Wizard asked, unable to keep his voice from cracking.
“Come,” he said, heading towards the door.
Kalinies almost charged over the King to make his eager exit, “To where my Lord?”
“Gerin told me he once wandered into the mists. I’m not sure how, but perhaps he is the Champion the book spoke of. We must send word as quickly as possible. With such a sword…I would be unstoppable.”
In A Time Of Darkness Page 75
