Crossing Forbidden Lines (Guardian Series Book 2)

by J. W. Baccaro

  “Yes.”

  She closed her eyes and highlighted her senses. Most likely feeling the wind and smelling the air while getting used to the surroundings. It helped with the transportation. Otherwise, she might end up at the wrong spot or worse, appear inside a rock, becoming part of it. What a mess that would be! She took his hand. “Here we go.”

  Olchemy felt it when taken out from this realm for a mere three seconds which seemed to him to last much longer. They were cast into another plane of existence; a world of such fascination it remained difficult to describe. The sky shined fuchsia pink with great big fluffy lilac clouds. There were boulder-size balls or something spherical floating around everywhere. Each one bursting with a different color while bouncing off dark-blue grassy fields or carried by the wind like dandelion seeds, only much bigger.

  Whatever these were, Olchemy suspected they were responsible for the sweet fragrance Avis always brought back, he could smell it keenly as a shiny cyan-blue one passed right by his nose. He wanted to reach out and touch it but they entered the seventh realm once again, at the top of the ravine with flatland stretching out before them. This had been the second time he’d passed through that strange world and vowed one day to have Avis explain its location.“All right, I’m about to begin this spell. Keep watch, but whatever you do, be sure not to interrupt me. Understand?”

  “Yes, yes master.” She seemed to only half listen to his words.

  “Avis!” he snapped, getting her attention, her wide eyes now bent on him. “I’m serious, listen to these words and take in their meaning.” His size immediately increased, casting a large shadow. “Do not interrupt the process.” His voice came out like a long dark growl. Never had he used such tone with her before and the look on her face would be enough to make any heartless monster cry. But he needed to, otherwise, she would surely wander off to explore, play or even ask him a question.

  “Me understand master. No interruptions.”

  Extending arms into the air he focused his power his mind reaching the east, ‘feeling’ out the forests. With all his will, he drew in the energy, as much as allowed.

  Avis couldn't quit staring at him, she found her master more exciting than even an archeology hunt. She looked as if she even considered touching him. After all, he’d become very pretty, especially his eyes, gloriously shining like emeralds. Considering his words earlier, she dared not disobey.

  Were any strangers to pass by and lay eyes on Olchemy they’d think him an illusion, arms constantly raised with never a movement, not even a breath which seemed to fascinate Avis the most while she still gazed on, a finger at her mouth. What in the world was her master doing? It seemed difficult to tell whether he might be alive or a figment of the imagination. The technique appeared complex. The slightest disturbance in his concentration could alter the whole process. And the Spirit Shield could only be attempted once a year…A rule held for all, not only the ancient Earth Wizards’ but nature’s also. This is why he’d been harsh on Avis. There would be no room for mistakes.

  After the second longest hour he'd ever experienced came to a finish—the first being his original attempt of this spell a year ago during practice. The Spirit Shield was accomplished, the energy sealed within him with a great astounding energy he could hardly contain within himself. Now he needed to act quickly. There wasn’t much time left.

  Avis transported them back down the valley and they climbed through the crack in the earth caused by Levieth’s quake, leading back to the underground tunnel. The journey to Mt. Flame began once again.

  Hopefully, Olchemy would now stand a chance. Meeting up with Levieth seemed inevitable.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Visions from The Past

  The sun rose as Mirabel and Seth sat around a fire, fellowshipping about past times and listening to the war drums of the approaching Barbarians, no more than two hours away. The drums were a low tuned, powerful beat. Dark sounding, intended to drive fear in their enemies. Sometimes the drumming would stop, replaced by a long silence, only to start again with the same repetitive beat.

  “It’s been a hundred years since I’ve seen a Barbarian,” Seth said, sipping his mug of coffee. “Many memories of that war have risen in my mind old friend. There is no doubt you remember those days also.”

  “Of course.” Mirabel nodded. “That is when my journey alone began.”

  Seth knew what he meant; he spoke about his wife and son. Ever since their deaths, he’d carried an overwhelming sadness with him wherever he went. The pain never truly gone, the loneliness never ceasing. At times it seemed difficult to bear. Mirabel loved them more than anything and always blamed himself for what happened. “Brother,” Seth began, in a most soothing, comforting tone, “I know how it feels to lose someone. The pain of loss cuts deep. True I never married, choosing celibacy for this life instead, but I did lose my dear mother—the only one I’ve ever been close to in those days. She cared for me, taught me, inspired me to love. Wonderful she was but she’s now gone from this realm. There’s nothing I can do to bring her back. Neither would she want me to, or especially dwell in disparity. I know this is difficult to hear, but you have to stop blaming yourself for what happened. It wasn’t your fault. Viliah and Asiel wouldn’t want you to carry this guilt. Neither does Abidan. Please, let it go.”

  “I know that my friend, I know,” Mirabel answered, casting a dim smile and then finished the rest of his coffee. “You have been by my side through toils and snares, times of goodness and eras of darkness, never asking for anything in return. A true friend you are indeed, always ready and willing to help another in need. You say these Barbarians remind you of the war? You know what I am reminded of by them, strangely? The times before the war, before even my family, times of you and I, when we used to journey hundreds—thousands of miles across the land searching for Milandrith Metal. Seeking out new territories, looking for possible Wizards still in existence. The wind in our hair, the smell of the woodlands, the adventures over the mountains…remember?”

  “I would say I’ve grown senile if I’d forgotten those days. Wonderful times they were indeed. We bonded quickly, you and I after our duel in the Martial Arts Tournament that is, ha!”

  “Heh heh, yeah, a duel I barely won. That, next to probably Olchemy in his days of youth, was the toughest battle I ever fought.”

  “You have gotten a lot stronger since then. There comes a time though, when one physically reaches his maximum of strength. I think I have reached mine. For I care not to progress my skills any longer, just my spirituality.”

  “Sometimes that is the best path. If I could give up fighting forever in exchange for a world of eternal peace, where there’d be no need to improve the speed of one’s punch, the accuracy of a throwing dagger, the stamina of the body or the fancifulness of the sword, I would. And I think Darshun would too. As skill hungry as he is, the boy has never accepted the only certainty among this realm, the process of death. He cannot even harm an insect, not unless provoked—and sometimes not even then!”

  Seth laughed. “An unusual soul indeed. Hey, speaking of Darshun, he should be on his way back.”

  Mirabel nodded, for there was no question whether or not Darshun survived Shajin Island.

  “Do you think he reached Ascension?”

  “If Marsainn and myself reached it, I am positive the Guardian of earth has reached it also.” He smiled, perhaps thinking about his adopted son, how he always made Mirabel laugh, and was good company to be around, kind-hearted, warm. Just how he hoped Asiel would have turned out.

  “You really love Darshun don’t you?” Seth asked, reading his face.

  “With all my heart.”

  “I do too. And I believe he was not only born to save this world, but also as a gift to you from Abidan. A son to love.”

  Mirabel’s blue eyes glistened beautifully in the firelight, and Seth could have sworn the extravagant shine was a reflection of tears. “My friend, of all the battles we fought and survived
together.” Mirabel grasped Seth’s hand. “May today prove to be another victory, so we might continue our fellowship in elder years?”

  They both sensed an incredible power moving fast approaching from the west. It wasn’t like the power of a transformed Nasharin, giving off such enormous amounts of energy, but an inner power of great change, great achievement even Mirabel couldn’t fathom.

  “Mirabel—is that—?”

  “Aye.” A huge smile radiated on his face. “He has returned.”

  The wind shifted and they looked to the sky and saw the golden eagle gliding down toward them, the morning rays of sunlight reflecting off his gorgeous gold-brown feathers. In a slow descent he landed and Darshun slid off his back, making a light thump onto the ground. “Thank you, good friend.” Darshun patted his head.

  The eagle nodded, glanced over to Seth for a moment—the Nasharin exchanging a look of gratitude—and then flew away.

  Darshun looked very different. His honey brown hair had grown longer, reaching the tail of his back. His natural build and muscles increased in size. But overall, the change in his face, the look in his amber-speckled steel blue eyes; he seemed so confident, fearless. “Father, Uncle Seth, it is good to see you two again,” Darshun greeted them both with a long hug. They needed to remember for Darshun it had been seven years since he stood in the presence of them.

  “I hope you’re hungry lad,” Seth prompted.

  His fearless look instantly vanished in exchange for an excited expression. “Oh, am I!”

  Seth already prepared him breakfast: fresh elk sausage cooked with a few pepper-like spices that naturally grew in the area, giving the meal extra kick .Also, including fried potatoes and of course a large mug of hot coffee.

  Darshun gulped the food down in seconds then started on the coffee.

  “Same old appetite,” Seth noted with a chuckle.

  “There’s not much to eat at Shajin Island. In fact, I haven’t had a meal this good since—well, since I left! That was seven years ago to me. I was expecting the world to be different, being gone for so long.”

  “Twelve hours for us lad.” Seth shook his head.

  “I know. To fathom that is difficult.”

  The drums of the Barbarians started again, echoing across the plains and through the woodland. This time they were louder.

  “It’s almost time.” Seth looked uneasy.

  “What is that?” Darshun asked.

  “The war drums of the Barbarians,” Mirabel explained. “A tactic they use to install fear in their enemies. Beware of them my son. Before they charge into battle they take a secret drink that changes their natural state. Their energy dramatically increases and they feel an uncontrollable desire to kill. That is why they are also known as Bezerkers. The most ancient of tribes they are, and fight in the most brutal of ways. Merciless. Unforgiving.”

  “Let them come!” Darshun growled. “I promise you not one will survive this day.”

  Mirabel and Seth never heard him say such a thing before, regarding an enemy. It wasn’t so much his words, but tone— filled with justice and perhaps a bit of a frenzy rage. He’d definitely changed.

  “Being the battle is drawing near, I must speak with King Loreus.” Seth rose to leave. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

  Darshun and Mirabel then sat around the fire as it fluttered low.

  “So my son, how do you feel?” Mirabel asked.

  “Alive and well.” He let out a relaxed sigh, tossing back a few locks of hair. “It is very good to come back to reality. Shajin Island was the hardest experience I’ve ever faced.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, when I first arrived the weight of the air was unnaturally heavy. I could barely walk and did not know how I would last one week, let alone seven years. But I direly craved the challenges and adapted quickly. Food and fresh water were difficult to find. Then chaotic storms consisting of fire, water, wind and ice often devastated the landscapes—and myself. I climbed mountains of fire, dueled mystical spirits of enormous power and pushed my every day exercises beyond the limits, everything you taught me…I heightened. There were times I thought my body might give out or my mind would go astray to madness, but after each recovery I emerged stronger. Finally, as the seventh year came to an end…it happened. I completed my training, surpassing a level I even thought impossible. Was that how it was for you?”

  “Similar but different. The magic of the island reads each individual’s heart and creates challenges the warrior is eager to face. The direr a challenge, the more difficult it is to surpass…even survive. I am proud of you my son.”

  “Thank you father.” A grin filled his face. “But tell me that after you see what I can do.”

  Mirabel smiled, though wasn’t sure if he liked Darshun’s conceited tone. Then again, he recalled when he himself emerged from Shajin Island; the feeling of achievement felt like a state of ecstasy. So, why not let Darshun have his fun also?

  “Now that I’ve come back to reality, many events that happened before my departure are coming to mind. There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Something I pondered about on my first few nights alone.”

  “Then go on and ask.”

  “What happened between Nayland’s father and you?”

  Mirabel sighed and gazed at the orange coals, never expecting that to be the question.

  “It is all right if you wish not to answer. I understand—”

  “I once had a wife.” His voice fell low while he still stared at the coals. “Her name was Viliah. A beautiful woman she was, long amber hair, light brown eyes, nurturing, caring. Everything that gives a woman beauty, heart and soul, she possessed. Together, we had a son Asiel.”

  “Asiel, likes Seth’s eagle friend?”

  “Yes, Darshun. He named the bird after him. You see, after the plague on the Ackarda Woodlands, most of the survivors settled northeast. We built a town of our own, destined to repopulate ourselves. With only a few dozen Arckardas and a handful of Nasharins our numbers began to grow, and a new generation was coming. But further east, a war was brewing between Barbarians from the south and the Loreladians. There was talk it would eventually reach us, for the Barbarians desired to establish territory in the east, wiping out or enslaving any tribe in their path. Nayland’s father, Magnus Winveil, after befriending the Loreladian people, wanted us to unite with them in this war. I refused.”

  “How come?”

  “Nasharins, as you know follow the Light, but sometimes we’ve been known to make ourselves gods, deciding who lives and who dies, merely because of our great powers. Magnus and I, accompanied by a few other Nasharins no longer living, for years sought out heathens across the earth and slaughtered them mercilessly. Cullach, Dark Elves, Trolls even Human Beings that chose the dark side of life and other types of creatures. Lycans, the Vampirae…We hunted them in the north, east, south and west, wherever they dwelt leaving carnage, mayhem and destruction behind. ‘Earth-cleansing’ vigilantes we were.”

  “How be it that is wrong, since the Dark seeks nothing but death and domination?”

  “Because living a life where one does nothing except kill continuously darkens the heart after a time. While I have no pity for Cullach or other disgusting creatures of darkness that thrive with evil, I do have pity for Human Beings. Many of the ones we killed were not whole-heartedly bad either. With a little help, perhaps some grace—they could have changed. But we made ourselves their judges, wrongfully. We even took the lives of their children. I had enough and wanted out. Magnus thought of me as arrogant.”

  “Arrogant! Whatever for?”

  “By judging our actions against the Humans he thought of me as one seeking too much spiritual glory, and now was above them. Smarter, wiser one who would never commit such folly again. While the others continued in it.”

  “How ridiculous! What you did was the right thing. Far from arrogance!”

  “Nevertheless, that was one strike. The other was wh
en I didn’t want to engage in the affairs of the Loreladians. By then, I’d been with Viliah for ten years, Asiel was seven. I’d seen enough violence to last an eternity. I wanted peace…a family. So, I ignored the warnings and Magnus’ complaints. One evening while Magnus was away, the Barbarians secretly invaded our village. Our tribe happened to be in their path of destruction, and they wanted nothing interfering with their war against Loreladia, not to mention they take pleasure in the simple destruction of others, and seek whatever resources their filthy hands could grasp. Our simple village, unaware of their presence, further excited their desires.”

  Darshun stared at his father as his eyes grew wider.

  He clenched a fist. “Had I been not so ignorant, minded my surroundings better I may have seen them coming! Like a sudden storm they attacked, invading house after house, slaughtering each and every family. By the time we knew what was happening we were overwhelmed and outnumbered. I tried to get my family out but a band of them, accompanied by a mighty sorcerer attacked me together. During the confrontation I took a blow to the head and had fallen unconscious. When I woke, I found myself lying on the gathering room floor and our home on fire. I escaped just as the house collapsed. Desperately, did I search for Viliah and Asiel—and soon found them, hung by their necks, dangling from a tree. Both dead. Everyone within the village at that time, except for Seth, was dead. Hung like my wife and son, slaughtered by the sword, or burnt alive in their homes…” Mirabel paused as his eyes glittered with the memory.

  Darshun felt aghast at such a horror.

  “I cut my family down. To this day, I cannot remember if I wept at that moment or was blinded by rage. Perhaps both. Seth and I buried them and the rest of the Ackarda—who now were entirely extinct—along with a good number of young Nasharins who never got the chance to unleash their powers. As dusk fell, Magnus returned to find the devastation. In anger he attacked, seeking to take my life, but because of my current state I let loose a frenzy and almost killed him—would have if not for Seth. No one, not even Magnus had seen that power within me before. Magnus was always known to be stronger.” He shook his head as regret painted his features.