“Ask, then,” Dannel said. “I, and my knowledge, are at your service. What would you have me tell you?”
Aeden put on a thoughtful expression, considering.
28
Aeden wasn’t sure about this man, this Dannel Powfrey. He was knowledgeable, that was certain. There were not too many outside the clans who knew Chorain. That bit was embarrassing. He seemed to know of the culture of the highlands as well. But did he truly know about the Song? Aeden thought it was the property of the Gypta. How would this young man know of it?
He referred to him as a young man in his own mind, but Dannel Powfrey was probably a decade or more older than Aeden. He surely didn’t appear as if he was any type of hero. He was barely as tall as Fahtin and very skinny. Pale, too, as if he didn’t get out in the sun much, which was strange since he was traveling. His light brown hair and brown eyes would allow the man to blend in anywhere, except maybe in the highlands or the Rhaltzheim, with their light hair and eyes. He seemed trustworthy enough, his plain face and nondescript nose comforting.
The man was watching him with those eyes. He had a strange expression on his face, his mouth in almost a kind of smirk. Fine. If he wanted Aeden to work for the information, then work he would.
“What do you know of the Malatirsay, and his role?” Aeden asked.
“Yes, the Malatirsay,” Dannel said. “His, you ask? What makes you think the Chosen is a man? Could it not be a woman?”
Aeden hadn’t really thought of that. Not because he did not believe women could be heroes. There were women in the clans that could outfight any of the flatlander men, and many of the highland men. No, he had just assumed that it would be a man because Jehira said he was the Malatirsay. “Point taken. Does the prophecy say it will be a woman?”
“I will answer your question with a question. Do you know anything yourself of the Song of Prophecy?”
“I…” Aeden seemed to have lost control of the conversation. He would answer, though, if it would show his good faith. “I know the Song in Dantogyptain, but I only know what a few parts of it mean. The rest of it must be translated.”
Dannel sat up straighter. “Dantogyptain? Truly? That version of the Song predates the written copies I have studied by some amount of time, if it has maintained its veracity. Could you perhaps speak it for me?”
“I can sing the Song for you, if you will stop your games and answer my questions.”
“It’s a deal, my friend. Dantogyptain.” His eyes became unfocused and he got a hungry look on his face.
Aeden cleared his throat, looked at each of his friends and at the scholar, and sang. As he did so, he tried to separate himself from the rhythm, the power of it. He didn’t want any stray magic to start flying around.
When he finished, he saw that Fahtin and Raki were sitting there, motionless, looking at him as if in a trance. Dannel Powfrey had tears in his eyes.
“By Surus, that was beautiful. If I could only have you meet with one of the masters at the Academy so that the Song could be written down. Oh.” He blinked a few times and then looked at Aeden. “But no, I have important work to do yet and you are on an urgent mission yourself. But after, maybe after…”
“I have sung the Song for you now,” Aeden said. “Tell me what you can.”
“Right,” Dannel said. “First off, the word Malatirsay is interesting in itself. It is not Dantogyptain, which I am sure you already know. It is not even truly Alaqotim, not the form in use at the Academy in current times.”
“Alaqotim?” Fahtin asked. “What is that?”
Dannel shifted his gaze to her, almost seeming surprised to find her there. He must have really been caught up in the Song not to notice a woman as beautiful as Fahtin just a few feet away.
“Alaqotim, the language of power. It is used for the casting of magic, and for…other things. As a language for communication, it is considered dead, but it is alive and well at Sitor-Kanda. Thousands of years ago, it was the primary language in the world. But then, the world was more magical back then, not stunted and impotent as it is now. But I digress.
“The term Malatirsay has an interesting construction. It is the combination of two words; malan meaning chosen, special, or unique; and tirsus, meaning warrior. The most interesting part, however, is the ending. The form of the word indicates plurality.”
“More than one?” Raki asked, overcoming his shyness and getting caught up in the conversation.
“Truly,” Dannel said. “But it gets more interesting. In the ancient form of the language, plurality was often used to indicate station or rank. Those of high stature were often referred to in the plural. Have you not heard that some kings or queens say such things as ‘We will cause this to be done’? So, is Malatirsay more than one, or is it a title that was written in that form to demonstrate importance?
“Alaqotim has different methods for depicting one thing, two things, or more than two, but with this word, the plurality could be a single person with a title, two people, or a hundred. It could very well mean that there is an entire group or army to combat the animaru.”
Aeden clenched his jaw and shook his head slowly. He had wanted answers and this man was teaching him grammar for a long-dead language. “Is there a point to this, Dannel?”
“There is, I assure you.” The scholar turned his body to face Aeden squarely. “I’m not sure which part of the Song this is in your version—things could have been rearranged for all we know—but there is a part that says:
Malatirsay, split asunder
One to two, but back to one
Separated but brought whole
Welded by the fire’s touch
“It seems likely that the word indicates, then, that the Malatirsay is important, deserving the plurality of high station, but also that he—or she—is also plural within him or herself. It seems to say that the Chosen will be split somehow, and then brought back together. Another part of the Song indicates the Malatirsay will die and then live again, so that could agree with the reference of two in one.”
Aeden considered this. He had died, or all but. The young clan warrior had passed from existence, replaced by the adopted Gypta. It could all fit, though he wasn’t sure if he was just trying to make it seem as if it was logical.
Dannel watched him in silence. “Are you the Malatirsay, Aeden of Clan Tannoch, highland born and Gypta raised? Are you the One?”
The frankness of the question caused Aeden to freeze and stare at the scholar. Fahtin and Raki seemed to be holding their breath. Dannel Powfrey’s little smirk returned.
“What have you not told me, my highland Gypta friend?”
After a long pause, Aeden answered him. “There is a soothsayer in the Gypta family, Raki’s grandmother. She told me the Song referred to me.”
“Ah. Did she see it in a vision or did she just think that it was so? It makes a difference.”
“I…I don’t know. She told me I should go to Sitor-Kanda to ask for help, to ask for knowledge about what is happening.”
“Yes,” Dannel said. “That is wise advice. There are those at the Academy that could surely help you. If only I was not engaged in urgent business, I would accompany you. I have already used too much precious time in these few hours speaking with you.”
Dannel seemed more than the unassuming skinny man that Aeden had thought him to be. He gave the impression now of competence and knowledge. Maybe there was something to this Hero Academy.
“Then you agree that we should go to the Academy as Jehira suggested?” Fahtin asked.
“I do,” the scholar said. “I think you would find answers there, maybe even help in what you need to do. The purpose of Sitor-Kanda has always been to prepare the Malatirsay for the end times. When you get there, speak with the Master of Prophecy. Tell him I told you to go there. He will know what to do.
“One other thing I can tell you, something you might already know, is about the creatures you have faced. There are ancient records of a place, another
world, one where darkness is light and life is death. One of the prophets called it Aruzhelim, the dark world, and the name is apt.
“Once, there was an expedition, a group of powerful mages who believed they had cracked the wall dividing the two worlds. But that is not a good description. These mages wrote an account of their research. They stated that Aruzhelim was, in fact, one of the points of light in the sky, so far away that we could only see a glimmer from Dizhelim.
“They outfitted themselves and prepared to breach the distance between worlds with their magic. Witnesses to their departure reported seeing a dim, poorly lit landscape of rugged mountains and rocks through the portal they opened and entered. When it closed, the expedition was never seen again. This, of course, deterred any others from duplicating the research.
“It is believed that this world, this Aruzhelim, is the home of the animaru, and that somehow they have gained the ability to enter our own world. The Song makes it clear that the dark creatures, the animaru, will swarm upon the land and eventually engulf it. They will snuff out all life on our world, causing Dizhelim to become a copy of their own lightless home. If the Song is to be taken literally, only Malatirsay stands in the way. Only Malatirsay can throw back the black tide that can end all life on Dizhelim.”
The three travelers looked at the scholar, eyes wide. No one spoke.
Dannel got up from the rock he was sitting on and dusted off his pants casually, as if he had not just talked about the end of everything. “I will need to be moving on now. Hopefully we will meet again, maybe at the Academy after I have finished my tasks.” He reached out to Aeden to shake his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Aeden Tannoch. And you Fahtin Achaya and Raki Sinde.”
“Likewise,” Aeden said. “I thank you for the information. At the very least, I know now that our original destination was the correct choice. I look forward to meeting you again.”
The three shook hands with the scholar, and he stowed his cooking utensils on his horse, which had been standing patiently grazing on some long grass nearby. He turned to go down the road in the direction the trio had come, but stopped to look at Aeden one last time.
“You should probably stay off the roads,” he said. “I have seen these creatures, the animaru. They appear to be looking for something. Or someone. I have charms that give me some protection, primarily from being detected by them, but such wouldn’t work for you, even if I had any to spare. If you are who and what I think, you will draw them like a beacon if they are nearby. Better to take to the forest to go to Sitor-Kanda.”
“The forest?” Fahtin exclaimed. “The Grundenwald? There are dangers in that forest. Even if only wild animals—and legend has it that there are more than that—it will be dangerous. It will also make travel much slower.”
“True,” Dannel said, “but I think it will be the safer route. The travel will be slower through the trees and underbrush, but the distance is also shorter. The road winds around to avoid the bulk of the forest, so it’s much longer. I suggest, strongly, that you take the forest path.”
“We will consider it,” Aeden said. “Thank you for your information, Dannel Powfrey. Safe travels to you.”
“And to you.” The scholar mounted his horse and walked it down the road.
Aeden watched Dannel until he turned a bend in the road and was lost from sight. He had a lot to think about, and a lot to do, it seemed. The new information hadn’t changed his plans, though. He still needed more information and more help. Malatirsay or not, he was going to need plenty of both.
29
“I don’t know,” Aeden said.
“He had a good point,” Fahtin said. “If he has already seen the creatures ahead of us, it might just be better to take the forest.”
“I’d not like to delay our task any more than necessary. I have traveled through forested areas, though not so thick as the Grundenwald is reported to be. We’ve seen it from the wagons passing through on this very road. It is a tiring, slow method of travel. That is not even considering the danger.”
“I don’t think the danger is as great as meeting up with dark creatures that cannot be killed,” she pointed out.
“Aye, but will we meet those creatures? The choice is between slowing our travel with certainty and the possibility of meeting these animaru. It just seems that the chances of us seeing them on the road is small.”
“But Dannel said he has already seen them ahead of us, on the road,” Raki said.
It seemed to Aeden that he was being overruled. Both of his travel companions wanted to take the forest, but they had never traveled like that before, didn’t know the danger from wild animals and how much it affected their travel speed. They didn’t understand the frustration of traveling only a few miles a day, backtracking and trying to find a path that allowed them to continue on. He wasn’t sure if he could make them see.
“And what of the creatures behind us?” Aeden asked. If we go into the forest, we will be easier to track. Worse, we will allow them to catch up to us. What if we meet some danger within the dark trees of that place, wild animal or something more powerful, and at the same time we are come upon from behind? I tell you, I do not relish the idea of being trapped between two dangers.”
Ah, that seemed to cause them to think. Fahtin had taken her lower lip into her teeth and was gently biting down on it. He almost had them convinced.
“What do you say we continue on the road and see what happens? We can travel carefully, but still quickly. If it appears to be too dangerous, we can change and move into the trees. Does that sound like a fair compromise?”
Fahtin and Raki both nodded.
“Very well, then,” Aeden said. “We have a few hours of daylight left. We can get some more miles under our feet before finding a suitable campsite and stopping for the night.”
They traveled three more hours, the other two darting looks forward and to the sides, occasionally behind them, as if nervous of attack. Aeden had to admit that his eyes darted around more than normal as well. He still didn’t think they would meet the dark creatures, but it was good to be prepared.
The next morning, they had broken camp and were two hours into their travels. The day was bright, a few wispy clouds in the still blue sky. The other two seemed to have relaxed. Aeden knew he had. The thoughts of attack from monsters were almost a day old, and the perfect conditions helped to push their fears deep into the backs of their minds.
It was a good day to be traveling, and the conversation was light. They did not speak of their quest or of foes; they did not refer to hidden dangers or what they would find when they finally made it to the Academy. The party was just three friends walking along a road, with not a care in the world.
As they came around a turn, both sides of the road overgrown with high bushes and low trees, they ran right into a small group of the familiar black creatures running toward them. Aeden wasn’t sure if they were more surprised or if the animaru were, but he regained his composure and reacted first.
He slid his swords free and charged into the mass of them. There were around ten enemies, though he could not take the time to get an accurate count. As he passed through them—and they continued running before they could turn—he had slashed at least three of them, removing the arm of one and the head of another. He stood alone in the road, the monsters behind him. All of them turned at the same time, understanding finally dawning on those black faces and muzzles.
Fahtin and Raki had reacted quickly enough to jump out of the way of the charging animaru, but they might as well not have existed. The enemies had eyes only for Aeden. As Dannel had said, they could sense him somehow, or how he looked had been described to them. In any case, they came at him, some growling like beasts.
Aeden laughed as they surrounded him. He spun and slashed with his swords, striking out with feet or knees when he had the opportunity. He felt most alive when he was in combat and he enjoyed it. Despite the danger of being killed, he thrived in situations like this
. His swords flashed, and sickly brown blood splashed to the ground.
“The magic,” Fahtin yelled, throwing one of her knives as a creature came up behind Aeden. “Stop playing with them and use the magic. You can’t kill them with steel.”
She was right, of course. Even the one whose head he had taken had gotten back up and was slashing at the air with its claws. The only way to defeat the creatures permanently was to destroy them with the magic.
He smoothly worked into his motions the gestures needed to call the magic. He pronounced the words and power flared at his fingertips.
But there was something wrong. The energies came, but they flickered weakly at his command. He threw it at a nearby animaru and though the monster screamed in pain, it didn’t destroy him outright. And that was just one creature.
Aeden wasn’t sure what was happening. He continued his physical combat, but it seemed pointless, compared to just a moment before when he had rejoiced in it.
What had he done earlier to make the magic so powerful? Was it simply need? There were many more of the creatures then, enough to endanger the entire family. Was that it?
Ah, it came to him. The Song. He had sung the Song. He did so now, starting at the beginning and singing loud, as if the words themselves were talismans that he could utilize.
Repeating his motions from before, he was glad to see the power more potent, but still not nearly as much as the last time he had used it. He cast it about him, searing the dark creatures, filling the air with their cries and moans.
He had to attack each one individually, the power still a shadow of what it had been that night, but soon the numbers of the foes dwindled. The last two realized they could not defeat him and took off running, fleeing for their lives.
Aeden checked on his friends when the battle was over. The animaru had basically paid no attention to them at all, even as they threw sharpened projectiles at the creatures. Why was he so important that these creatures would turn their backs on foes to attack him? Maybe he was this Chosen One the Song talked about.
Wanderer's Song Page 19
