by Dan Gillis
“I would not wish this upon anyone. Be sure to return swiftly, or you will have nothing to lord over, young whelp.” ‘Well perhaps there is some fire left after all’ Tey’ur mused to himself. Corbin’s eyes blazed bright blue, but his countenance was firm.
“We move out immediately. We will leave you provisions and supplies, enough to carry on that worn out excuse for a …”
The words were cut short, even as a resounding crack sounded and Corbin’s body soared through the air. He landed heavily several feet away from the old warrior, who slowly straightened himself. “You may say what you will, ignorant pup, but this beast is nobler than any of your aspirations. Her deeds will be sung longer and sweeter than anything you will accomplish. Go back to your Halls and sip upon the wine you so dearly desire. As you do, take care not to choke upon the dregs of your ambition!” Corbin stood groggily and shook his head to clear the fog which permeated his mind. His cold blue gaze lifted to the warrior. His hands began to move slowly. Tey’ur raised an eyebrow, and, reaching over his shoulder, placed a gauntleted hand upon the hilt of his massive weapon. The sound of metal upon metal rang out, crossing the distance between them. Corbin stopped moving.
Suddenly, Menhol appeared and came between them.
“What is this madness? Corbin, have you lost your mind? To attack your lord is worthy of death!” The monk looked from the magi to his lord. He gave Tey’ur a quizzical look. Tey’ur sighed and turned his face from one of his true faithful. Perhaps, he had a place in his cold heart for some. “My Lord, surely …” Menhol began. The expression upon the head-monk’s face spoke what was unsaid. He understood clearly.
“I am giving full leadership of this party to Corbin of Erridiath. So it is spoken -”
“So … it shall … be done.” Menhol whispered. His face was full of shock, and something else. A hidden fear. Tey’ur could see it in his eyes. Corbin remained for a moment and then swept toward his waiting steed without a word. His hand cradled his face, as blood slid from the gash caused by Tey’ur’s gauntlet. Menhol stared at his old lord in quiet respect. The two remained thus, regarding each other. Then the moment ended as Corbin’s voice rang out, signaling the march. Menhol nodded his head slightly to Tey’ur, who returned the gesture. The monk turned and moved to join the marching troops. Some looked on in surprise at their motionless lord as they passed, others with disgust. Still, many did not see as their heads were hung with unseen burdens. Tey’ur watched them all pass, his face set without emotion. He placed a hand upon Calista. She moved to nuzzle his face and pushed grey hair through his vision.
“You’re welcome,” he rumbled quietly.
A lone figure watched as the White Guard moved off en masse. The observer considered the remaining soldier as he stood silently by his horse. Zyr’s instructions were clear. The old one held the key to end his turmoil. Tohm’s rational mind was intrigued, and yet it could not determine how to bring his body to move. The beast was so careful and cautious, so easily provoked. The previous night when defending Firah, they had worked as one, so as to save her life. He had been grateful for the savage aspect of his mind, how quick and lethal it had been. Now he simply desired to live in solitude where he would not endanger others, particularly his loved ones. At times he longed to be back in Lenhir, serving Firah a drink and enjoying a good laugh with her. It was all that he could have wanted in life, and then the unfathomable had happened.
Tohm did not blame Zyr for what occurred. He had chosen to travel to the city and insisted on taking Firah along. Memory stung him as he thought about what had befallen her because of his actions. He had tried to put those things behind him, trying to adapt to the current situation.
It was a strange way to dwell. It was all the doing of the Defiler outside the walls of Khyvla. Somehow, he had disconnected Tohm’s logical thinking mind from the raw, aggressive, and instinctual emotions that prowled beneath the surface. With that severance, it was like two separate entities inhabiting one body. Admittedly, he could still move about and communicate but with every action, the beast compounded the problems. It was aggressive and seized control of his body violently. Tohm’s rational mind would often become as enraged as its counterpart, out of absolute frustration. It was only when things were calm and silent that the rational side felt it had some control as the beast rested. That is why he sought refuge in the wild.
An idea formed in Tohm’s rational mind. There was a way to get the man’s attention without moving closer and risk arousing the animal within. He would outsmart the passionate and short-sighted monster. He probed outward in his mind to determine how the irrational side was faring. He felt calmness, the feelings of rage rested somewhat at peace. Yet, one false move and it would awaken full of rage, and attack or flee from the one who could help. The rational mind slowly moved his body, removing the pack from Tohm’s back. He stopped and waited intently. The beast remained quiet.
Gently, Tohm’s hands unbuckled the leather straps. He eased a small bag out of the pack and unrolled a small cloth covering. Within the cloth lay several articles, among them a razor, a block of soap, and a shaving mirror. The mirror was crude and small, but it would do. The sun was now well in the west as was the stoic warrior who stood some distance away. Casually, Tohm lifted the small mirror and turned the reflective face toward the sun and shifted it back and forth several times. After many seconds, he put it into the cloth and packed it away.
Looking up he noticed the man had stripped from his armour, mounted the horse and was making ready to ride. Tohm’s elation diminished when the warrior departed over a small rise and disappeared, heading toward the west, not eastward where Tohm sat. Cursing within, he felt the beast respond to the feeling. Why could not the man see the flashes of the sun? Was the warrior truly worth the praise Zyr had given him? Tohm sat in frustration and anger for many long minutes, the beast prowling across his mind.
After some time, Tohm decided it would be best to try again to track the old fighter. Perhaps he could gain another opportunity if he could be patient. The animal sniffed the air immediately. His body was on the move; all danger had to be identified. The rational side of Tohm was used to the routine. It took ages to travel anywhere, especially with the detours taken. How he loathed being trapped inside his own body. But that was how it was to be, passion and emotion were much stronger than reason and intellect. Once again he took a lesser seat to the overpowering force that drove his will and body. He lumbered off in the direction the horse had taken. The foothills were quite rocky, with outcroppings jutting out of the ground as if in escape from Aeredia's soil. Tohm traveled for quite some time, the beast checking periodically for hostile sounds and smells. In the end there was nothing but silence upon the lands. Still the horse’s trail was plain and evident. The hunt was engaged and Tohm sniffed hungrily at the prints in the grassy patches of ground beneath him.
Several large rock formations came into view. Tohm made his way slowly about a large rock wall and stared down into a massive valley. The hoof prints moved around another outcropping just ahead and likely down the hill passing into the valley. Something tickled at the back of Tohm’s mind which disturbed the beast greatly. The rational side cursed as it attempted to move his body. With all these delays he would never catch the horse and rider. The beast was sniffing and feeling the air. Finally, after a few frustrated moments, his large frame lumbered from the large rock wall toward the next outcropping.
Suddenly, Tohm’s body spun about like a spring. A massive shape flew through the air, knocking Tohm to the ground heavily. As the wrathful animal wrestled with the heavy form atop of it, the discerning mind observed that it was a strong assailant who attacked them. He could feel the arms twisting his own, moving them into positions which would render them next to useless. The rational mind grew concerned. Then the man’s face passed into Tohm’s vision. It was the same rider he had been pursuing! Inwardly, he rejoiced and desperately tried to distract the howling fury that was his alter ego. He needed to t
alk to this person, somehow! Yet, it was near impossible. Roars, grunts and savage growls were emitting from his lips, while the man held on with determined strength, slowly moving the arms backward, bending the wrists.
Tohm’s body shook and writhed. It convulsed so quickly that the large opponent grunted in exertion. Tohm could feel his body slowly shifting onto his stomach. Muscles flexed and knotted as both men set brute strength against the other. It was a struggle of will and determination, and yet, while Tohm sought only to escape, the other was weaving a different plan, countering the struggling of the beast and slowly moving into a position of advantage. Tohm emitted a loud gurgling scream as he felt his left arm wrench backward while another came around his neck, closing off the air. The beast sensed the other’s face near and struck out savagely with the back of his head. The scarred flesh upon his scalp made contact with the nose of the assailant and buckled the cartilage. Undeterred, the other pressed down upon the arm, blood flowing down his wounded face. Another bestial scream came forced from Tohm’s weakening lungs. Fuzzy blackness overtook his vision, as he desperately tried to free himself. The stranger held on and applied pressure even greater, shifting his position to prevent Tohm from gaining any final leverage. Finally, all things passed into black. ‘I pray Zyr was right’ Tohm thought as all light passed from view.
* * *
“Wake up!”
Tohm felt a sudden sharp pain in his gut. He coughed and tasted blood. He tried to move his arms to prop himself up, but they would not move. His eyes slowly opened as the fog lifted from his mind. Tohm’s mind was scattered and disorientated. The beast was reeling, while the rational side had temporary control.
‘I must be quick’ he thought. He pulled himself into a sitting position. He saw that his arms were securely bound, his back against a rock face, with the outcroppings extending forward in either direction from his position. His captor had him corralled into a natural rock formation, and he guarded the only way out. The man stood tall and dignified. His long grey hair shifted in the cool breeze. Tohm looked upon the face. The eyes were dispassionate and empty. The nose was discoloured and shifted slightly to the side. Tohm opened his mouth to speak. Suddenly, the man’s boot contacted his head, thumping it soundly into the wall. Tohm felt the crunch as his skull collided with stone. The beast was angering, rejuvenating. His body growled in frustration, echoing how he felt inside. He did not have time for this! The other looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.
He spoke calmly without emotion, “I will be directing this conversation.”
He rubbed the stubble under his chin and sniffed softly from his broken nose. “I remember you … you were with the girl. Then you disappeared.”
Tohm began to feel the heat growing inside. Urgency drove his words.
“Yes, I need help. Quickly, I … I can’t control it … Zyr said … you can help me.” The tall man loomed over him, silently considering the words. Tohm hoped what he said was clear, for he had fought to get every word out. The animal within did not like being restrained, without or within.
“You are strange … I sense a burning rage within you, something that consumes you.” Tohm’s head swayed in affirmation. The beast was at the doors of his consciousness. He prayed for a miracle, for he fought this thing with all the energy he possessed. Soon, he would lose control.
“Zyr was right. I know something of this problem, for I have dealt with it before. I hesitate to assist someone completely unknown to me, and yet something speaks from your words, a ring of truth. I would be unwise to dismiss your plea, yet perhaps it would be easier to simply end your suffering.”
Tohm’s breath came short as he watched the man turn his head away for a moment; he appeared deep in thought and lost in reflection. At last, he turned back to the captive.
“I can help, but it is a difficult task that would endanger us both. Are you so willing to risk what is required?”
With every last energy Tohm moved his head slowly in agreement.
“I am called Tey’ur, and for the next few days we shall become well acquainted. You must beg no quarter as I will not give it. The task now lies before us. What is your name?” He withdrew a small blade and moved toward his captive. As Tohm made to answer the beast emerged from the cloudy haze in his mind.
“Tohm.” The words came gutturally and deeply as control for the body switched to the stronger, passionate mind.
“Consider yourself my prey,” Tey’ur said as he slashed the ropes which bound the large man. Throwing the knife roughly to the ground, he backed away and dropped into a low animal-like stance. Tohm rose slowly from the ground snarling. Tey’ur smiled coldly. “The hunt begins.”
Night.
The land was alive with unseen sounds. The hunt was long, and for both hunter and prey it was time to rest. He had harassed the man for hours upon end, always staying back enough to avoid visual detection. He would allow his smell to carry upon the wind. If the hunt was successful, the derangement within the man’s mind would become used to his scent. Then the learning and instructing could begin the healing.
He remembered all too well having to conquer the same emotions, after a fever which nearly claimed him in his youth. It had been the same, from the fever’s delusions had torn an animal with wrath-like behavior that overcame his mind. He remembered what the old masters had done, and the healing had taken years. Even still, the passion reared its ugly head in moments of mental weakness. Yet he had conquered it. Now he controlled the waves of anger and heat, guiding the waves instead of resisting them. They even served a warrior well in battle and strengthened the prowess and might from within. Riding the wave; it was the only way to survive.
He did not know why he chose to help, except that he felt pity upon the man, with a profound sense of empathy. It would be a grueling task at best.
He had already chased this Tohm for many leagues. He was without provisions, armour and equipment, having left it all with Calista. Yet, he knew that she was near, grazing. The mare would not interfere with the hunt, but patiently follow. She sensed it the moment he sent her ahead before he sprung the trap upon Tohm.
Lying back, Tey’ur listened to the chorus of creatures upon the land. The Shadowveil moons were coming. They could sense it in the air. Soon, there would be nothing, only white blankets of snow, which glistened in the starlight. He looked heavenward. The sky was a clear midnight black, the stars like small pinholes through the curtain, exposing the brightness beyond. How many times had he contemplated those same stars? Like him they never changed. Lying huddled in the small ditch, the aged warrior considered for the first time how that similarity reflected his life. He had always been so rigid, so dedicated, that he let what was real slip away. Once, the Order of the Open Hand was all that he had valued in the world. He closed his eyes. With the thoughts of his past came also the memories of the dead. It all came rushing back, defying his careful defenses.
“Master, they have breached the third perimeter, on the south side!” The young woman’s eyes were wild with terror. Siege. The impossible had occurred.
“Get three tetsu’s and hold that entrance now! Move Initiate!” Tey’ur barked loudly.
“Yes, Master!” the small warrior replied as she dashed through the near exit. So many lay dead outside the walls, falling in defence of the walls of the Order. Where were the remaining Council members? Tey’ur moved to the parapet upon the high wall of the Order’s main structure. With three defences breached, only two remained before they would pierce the heart of the Halls. Now they were reduced to using Initiates … the battle was sorely deteriorating. Tey’ur heard the sounds of footfalls behind him above the clamour of war below.
“What is the status of the front?” a man’s voice inquired.
“Not well. We could have used your assistance, Greil. Where have all of you been?” Tey’ur turned to face the Master of Lore. He was much older and diminutive than the tall and broad shouldered Master of Arms.
The older man si
ghed. “Tey’ur, you should know we can’t hold this siege off. The Servant lies dead, and our numbers diminish swiftly from death and desertion. Time is a mere illusion to mask the inevitable …” Greil casually raised a hand and gestured. Two massive bolts of energy impacted and broke apart a battle siege engine which lumbered near to the fourth barrier. Tey’ur shifted his eyes back to the old Ashori, understanding dawning with what the Council member had said. Lightning bolts and siege engines were of little comparative concern.
“Surely, you can’t believe we are finished!” he shouted above the crashing remains of the war machine as it crumbled heavily to the ground. Greil’s head slipped down slightly. His eyes appeared tired, as did his whole frame, which seemed to bend under great fatigue. Tey’ur placed a hand upon the older man’s shoulder. “By my oath, if this is the end of all things, then I will surely give them little reason to celebrate afterward.”
Abruptly, the Lorekeeper’s eyes flashed and his head raised alert. “No, Tey’ur. That is why I have come. It is the will of the Council that you leave the Halls, this very hour.” Tey’ur’s jaw dropped in shock of the declaration, as did his hand which slipped from the Master’s shoulder.
“What? Abandon the Halls … my home … forsake my very life-blood while we yet spill theirs upon the ground? You would mark me a cowardly traitor? Like Zyr and his cursed Jyril? Impossible!” Tey’ur’s hands were clenched tightly and his aura burned hotly through the air.
Greil spoke sadly to the enraged warrior. “We cannot force you to understand, Tey’ur. No one ever could. We do realize what we are asking, especially of you of all people. This wisdom came as direction from outside the Council, from Mother herself.” Tey’ur held the gaze of the older man. Something about the old Master's words stirred doubt deep within his soul. Yet reasoning was consumed by hot anger which burned inside the Warmaster’s noble heart.
