“I know.” Caedmon could see the eager but fearful look on the giants’ faces. “I will not ask you to go.”
“No one should travel north, Caedmon . . . they do not like it,” Voresh said nervously.
“We must. There is a doorway to the north that another wishes to open, and we must stop him,” Caedmon said.
“You may not make it to the door. They are always watching, just beyond sight, and they are unkind to trespassers,” Voresh said.
The old wolf knew the giants would not follow them north into the Zajena Forest without more incentive. “Deraj asked the giants to aid the five mages, correct?”
“Yes,” Chondrose answered.
“Then instead of traveling north with us into the Zajena Forest and Drey’kan homeland, I humbly request the giants to please protect the dwarfs from the troubles they are experiencing with dragons. Greenbacks have been attacking their people, and there is little they are able to accomplish in defending their cities from the dragons, but the giants could be a welcome deterrent to the flying beasts, and their attacks may cease for a time. I would have stayed to protect the dwarfs, but I cannot change course now. Our current matter is more pressing. Will the giants go in my stead and aid our dwarven allies?”
Chondrose’s face brightened at the new opportunity to aid the mages. “Yes, Caedmon, we promised Deraj we would help in any way we could, though we cannot follow the wee mages north. The giants will aid the dwarfs for you and defend their cities from any dragons who dare to approach.”
“I love lizard crushing. It has been ages since the slumbering dragons were seen,” Voresh exclaimed and beat his fists together. “Those beasts never come here. They know us well.”
“Good. I am happy to hear it, my friends,” Caedmon said with a smile.
“I will gather my people, and we will head to the Scar,” Chondrose told him eagerly.
“The dwarfs can be a proud people; you must approach them cautiously. If they initially refuse your aid, ask for King Kvaran and tell him Caedmon sent you to assist with the dragon nuisance. He will not turn you away if he knows you answer my call,” Caedmon assured the giants.
The giants nodded in understanding.
“Call on us if you need us in the future. Just not in the north,” Chondrose said.
The giants gave their farewells to the mages and began walking back the way they came, into the forest and toward their settlement. As the giants moved farther away, the ground shook less with each progressive step. They faded into the forest and left Faolan’s group to discuss their next course of action.
“Ehreion. Ireli. Go wake the others and help them ready for the journey ahead,” Caedmon said. “I am sure they will be eager to see both of you awake.”
They nodded and did as he requested, leaving the wolf and the young guardian to speak alone.
Caedmon turned to Faolan and asked, “All is well?”
The leader brushed aside the ancient guardian’s question and instead inquired, “What was that about?”
“You heard them,” Caedmon said flatly.
Faolan shook his head. “They will not travel north? Caedmon, what causes a giant to fear?”
The wolf hesitated. “We have no choice; we must go north. Mind you, it is best if the others do not find out why the giants would not follow.”
He leaned forward, and in a hushed tone, the old guardian confirmed that the giants indeed feared the Drey’kan as well, probably for good cause. The young leader was quite surprised by the new revelation as he thought if anyone would not fear the Drey’kan, it would be the giants.
Faolan’s eyes widened. “The Zajena Forest is the Drey’kan homeland, and we have to travel through it!”
“Shh, quiet!” Caedmon hushed him. “The others must not know. I believe they will not go on if they find out.”
Faolan whispered heatedly, “My mother already knows, and I, too, have seen them with my own eyes. They are all over the forest, Caedmon, probably watching as we speak. This is a fool’s quest! Folly!”
“There is no discussion!” Caedmon said. “You know what must be done!”
“Aye,” Faolan ground out, relenting.
“This cannot be helped, I assure you. If we do not travel through Drey’kan territory, then we must find a different way through the Niyere Mountains. I promise you, any alternative path we locate will be no less arduous or dangerous as we will be unaware of what lurks in the unknown of the north. And mind you, we must reach the First Seal before the Initiate does should we wish to create a planned effort to stop his purpose,” Caedmon clarified. “Now ready the others. We must hurry!”
“Fine.” Faolan reluctantly turned away.
“Faolan,” Caedmon called to him before he had gone too far.
The unhappy leader looked back over his shoulder at the old wolf.
“Keep your wits about you . . . your eyes will deceive you, but your ears will tell you the truth,” Caedmon stated ominously.
Faolan understood the wolf’s words and began mentally preparing himself. Sound would be their only way of detecting the Drey’kan, other than Caedmon’s sight. Though if the past was any indication, then sound would be of little help in detecting the illusionary abilities of the dark creatures. He breathed deeply as he entered the campsite and began assisting the others in their preparations to leave.
◆◆◆
Waremasu walked along a narrow pathway, moving at a slow pace through the dense forest. His conical hat bobbed up and down with each step. The vast distance he had traveled in the past few weeks would be daunting for a mortal, though any length of distance meant little to him. What was distance or time to a being that could never die from the clock’s tick, who could run so fast, and who would never find himself without a path?
Not a single thought plagued his mind as he traveled along the winding path—that is, until he heard a faint scream. He paused and listened to the sound as it grew louder. The scream transformed into a manlier yell, and it continued for a good while. Waremasu discovered the source was very long winded.
He attempted to locate who was yelling and from what direction. He glanced upward, and his keen eyes caught sight of a falling man. The person was rapidly descending from the sky; his arms and legs were flailing wildly all the way down. Not far above the man was a staff falling close behind. Waremasu watched as the form crashed with tremendous force into the forest, off to his left. Branches snapped and leaves danced as the man tumbled downward, before a final thud sounded, and his shouting ceased.
If one could have seen through the dark veil surrounding Waremasu’s face, one would have seen a wide smile.
A series of grunts emanated from the trees, and a crescendoing, irate mumbling could be heard as Zauvek stumbled out of the dense tree line. The old angel saw his acquaintance observing him behind the stoic veil and grumbled. “Do not ask.”
Waremasu laughed with his chaotic seven voices. “How was the landing?”
Zauvek moaned and held his ears; his knees wavered when he heard Waremasu’s voices.
The enshrouded angel peered up into the sky and shouted, “Are you having fun?”
Zauvek groaned loudly and dropped to one knee in response to the grating voices. The old angel took a deep breath and glanced up at his ally in irritation. He stood and quickly approached his companion. He threw a wide-arcing fist, and it disappeared into the dark shroud beneath the hat, striking Waremasu across his jaw.
The receiving angel staggered backward from the heavy impact, and a cataclysmic instability erupted as he roared in echoing voices, “You dare assault me, Zauvek!”
The old angel’s bones ached from the emotional attack, and his muscles burned under the erratic spasming from his companion’s voices.
“I am sorry, my friend, but please stop speaking,” Zauvek begged. “The pain is overwhelming.”
Waremasu regained his balance and stood tall, with a deeply ominous aura about him. The old angel sensed the split soul’s instability
as its unhinging aura seeped into the atmosphere surrounding him.
Zauvek felt his companion’s intense eyes on him and attempted to reason. “I am sorry, Waremasu. I was not clearly thinking, and my strike was careless. I was angered by recent experiences, and your unsettling voices caused an irrational response to the overwhelming pain I felt. I seek no quarrel with you.”
His old eyes dropped down to Waremasu’s waist in growing discomfort as the oppressive aura thickened the air. The hilt of Waremasu’s blade protruded out of his cloak, prepared for the next attack. The old angel knew he stood on dangerous ground, and he had made a grievous error by attacking his volatile ally.
Waremasu’s katana sang as it slowly slid back into its sheath.
Zauvek produced a nervous chuckle as their relationship remained quite tenuous. “Where are you headed?”
The enshrouded angel calmed and turned away. He continued walking up the path. “I am following them.”
Zauvek’s legs wavered as he responded. “Them?”
“Razbijen and his allies.”
The old angel followed behind his companion. “Right, his friends. So then, how far out are we from their location?”
“Not far,” the once-again stoic angel stated.
Zauvek raised an eyebrow in question. “For you or for me?”
Waremasu’s hat rotated toward the silver-haired angel. “Me.”
“Right.” Zauvek sighed forlornly.
They traveled up the road for some time before the trees thinned and gave way to a glade. On the glade’s far side stood a massive, sheer rock face with a cave entrance in its base. High over the cave glowed three glyphs in the ancient language of the Ikalreev, though neither of them was familiar with the old tongue.
They briefly paused at the edge of the field and inspected the small clearing.
“Do you know this place?” Zauvek asked.
Waremasu shook his head in denial.
“And you are sure they came this way?” Zauvek asked.
Instead of answering, Waremasu began walking toward the cave, and his companion followed close behind. As they crossed the tranquil glade, they passed by two depressions in the tall grass where something quite large had been. Then, without knowledge of its existence, the angels stepped through the Ikalreev defensive barrier without any harmful effects.
Waremasu did not hesitate as he moved into the cave’s entrance and descended into the dark passageway.
“What is this place?” Zauvek questioned.
Waremasu provided no answer.
“Why would they come here?” The old angel asked.
They descended down the long passage to a great depth as a faint blue light materialized at its end. When they reached the bottom of the narrow hall, it opened up into a small round room. In the room’s midst stood a pedestal with a vibrant blue flame at its apex. There were four open doorways on the room’s distant side, and each doorway had a glyph above its archway. Each symbol above the doors had a matching glyph on the massive rock wall outside. The same three bright glowing glyphs that radiated on the rock wall on the surface also glowed brightly above their respective doorways. Only the doorway with water on its floor had a dim symbol above it.
The angels finally noticed glowing white script emblazoned across the entire height and length of the walls. Waremasu walked over to one section on the right-hand side and began reading the script. Zauvek became curious as well and walked over to a part of the left-hand wall. Heaven’s tongue greeted them. They began sifting through the information written on the walls.
A short time passed as they read the ancient text, then Waremasu’s eyes halted on a single word, and for a brief second, he paused. He lifted one hand and rubbed over the word with a single, unweathered finger. His hesitance was apparent even under his enshrouding cloak as his finger lingered on the wall.
Zauvek had been searching through the glowing script on the room’s opposite side when Waremasu suddenly appeared beside him without warning and a wisp of wind as his wake.
The silver-haired angel jumped in fright and cried out, “What could possibly be of such great importance that you must scare me so?”
Waremasu’s hand rose from beneath his cloak and pointed behind his companion.
The leery-eyed old angel followed his friend’s directional cue. His aching bones slowly hobbled over to where Waremasu had directed him. He peered through his thin veil of hair and sifted through the script.
The heavenly script read, “In their darkest hours and most dire moments, the magic will take its truest form without the mortals’ conscious decision. A zenith of absolute emotion will cause the mortal to be completely paralyzed by the magic’s heart as it acquisitions the host, commanding the mage through debilitating emotion and breathing by its own impulse. A mage’s enemies shall quake in fear should the mortal slumber as the heart wields its own devastating power without measure and protects its mage with untold supremacy.”
Zauvek stepped to the right and continued reading. “The Ikalreev Archmages were granted visions about the future by Igtharia, and through their understanding of what they witnessed, they created a magic that would span an age. Providing the most powerful magics the Ikalreev possessed and a way to protect the world to those living during the time of the vast cataclysm in their visions. Only five would inherit the power as ordained by the Five Archmages. Three individuals would rise from the mortals, one from each race seen in the visions. The Ikalreev would create a fourth individual in order to protect the lands until the others rise. The fifth would be . . .”
Zauvek’s eyes came to rest on the same single word that Waremasu had ceased his reading on. He cursed and whispered in despair. “Igtharia . . . Do you realize the consequences?”
He mumbled as he read, and his finger underlined the words in eager curiosity. When the words ended, he stepped three paces to his right and continued. Zauvek shook his head in disbelief, and a disgruntled moan escaped him. His mumblings came to an end, and anger suffused his posture. He slammed the wall with a heavy fist and groaned in frustration.
The silver-haired angel lowered his eyes. “She knew all along.”
His jaw tightened and his thoughts churned in turmoil. Granting the Ikalreev visions . . . the fool. In trying to stop my advance on this forsaken world, Igtharia may have ensured its ruin.
The old angel turned slightly toward Waremasu and spoke in a defeated tone. “Her meddling may make our salvation challenging, if not unobtainable, should the Ikalreev magic take hold of him and command him so.”
Zauvek felt his chest beginning to burn and erupted into a violent string of coughs. He doubled over as sharp pain pierced his forever-ailing heart, and his eyes locked into a distant gaze as blood sprayed the ground. After a few moments of stricken muscles, the pain subsided, and he tasted blood coating his mouth. He spat the excess blood on the floor and used his helpful staff to recover from the painful bout.
Waremasu wrote, What was that?
Zauvek eyed him with a pained look. “My curse.“
You are dying?
Zauvek shook his head. “Just torture. The curse will not let me die. My heart will forever ail me.“
Waremasu’s hat lowered as he understood.
Zauvek brushed the problem away and continued with their conversation. There was nothing they could do about his curse.
“Mortals’ magic is corrupting.” Zauvek glanced at Waremasu’s hidden face. “Should this be true, then we may never have our redemption.”
Waremasu nodded in agreement as he had come to this conclusion before alerting his companion to the concerning revelation.
“What will come of this?” Zauvek wondered.
“What is done . . . is done.” The stoic angel’s voices echoed as he began walking out of the round room. “Are we entitled to salvation, old friend?”
Zauvek endured the pain caused by his companion’s voices. The ailing angel felt uneasy as he thought about the trickery he had pulled on Wa
remasu. He followed his unaware ally back up the long passageway to the surface.
“All we can do now is aid them,” Waremasu’s voices echoed.
“Them?”
“He will not leave his allies or forsake them. His heart is strong, and his resolve is clear,” Waremasu explained. “He may wake if separated from them.”
Zauvek’s knees buckled under the influence of his companion’s voices, and he grumbled through the residual pain in his chest. “These complications will prove troublesome to overcome and possibly hazardous to our well-being.”
They emerged back into the sunlight.
Waremasu glanced at the old one. “Our souls are lost already. It matters naught what happens to us. I only wish to right my wrongs before I vanish into oblivion so I may fade without regret.”
The old angel endured the long, echoing words of his companion and breathed in relief once he was done. He heard his ally’s words but did not agree with the reasoning. Zauvek had no intention of fading into oblivion; he was determined to survive.
“Do you know where they went?”
Waremasu nodded.
“Then I will follow,” Zauvek sighed.
They walked northeast through the glade. Upon reaching the forest’s edge, Zauvek passed into the dense tree line, but Waremasu stopped as he felt another’s eerie existence. The conical hat swiveled back, and he saw a fearless presence standing behind him. The anomalous creature was staring through him with its metallic eyes. Its iridescent purplish-black skin was distinct and unmistakable, though only part of its form was visible, peaking out of its illusionary veil.
If any sane person had stood in that field, they would have run for their life. The Drey’kan’s cold stare was matched by Waremasu’s, and for a tense moment, neither moved. Then, after assessing the creature, Waremasu turned forward once again and disregarded the harmless presence as he faded into the forest.
Chapter 23
“Fleeting Memories”
“For every memory that returns to the angel, a very small fraction of righteous power shall seep back into his soul. When these times come, the times of remembering, anyone near the angel shall feel his power, and they will see the truth. The Guardian Angel of Verdunmull.”
Verdunmull Page 36
