The Godseeker Duet

by David A Willson

  He smiled and shrugged. "I have my limits."

  "And we will test them, young man. Come. I have something you might wish to see."

  She led them several hundred feet further and around a large pillar. Nara examined the pillar; it was sheer and tall, with no seams or joints, as if carved from a single piece of stone. On the other side, they found Bylo standing in front of a large flat rock wall. In front of the wall were a long bench and a wide table, made of smooth stone. Inscribed in the wall was a giant rune, twenty or thirty feet high, stuffed with the same vegetation that filled the light runes, but it wasn't glowing.

  "What is it?" Nara asked.

  "A rune of protection; it keeps this cavern intact. Strong. It will also serve as Mykel’s new tattoo," Anne said.

  "A new tattoo?" Mykel asked.

  "If you want to be a warrior, to be able to protect Nara, you will need all the help you can get," Anne said.

  "I don't understand," he said.

  "It protects you, silly!" Nara poked him in the ribs. "From danger. Monsters and shadows and curses. That sort of thing."

  Mykel chuckled.

  "Come over here," Nara said, as she pulled him over to a patch of grass with a big fruit tree growing in the middle. It had broad branches, soft brown bark, and long, narrow green leaves that hung down several feet from each branch.

  "Let's eat," Nara yelled back to them. "You must be hungry."

  Anne, Bylo, and Gwyn joined them at the tree.

  "Apples?" Gwyn asked.

  "Something like that," Anne said.

  They plucked the fruit from the tree and sat in a circle to eat. They were softer than apples, yet sweeter and more satisfying.

  The evening was spent resting, swimming in the lagoon, and wandering about the cavern. Bylo sat occasionally on the stone bench and practiced his inscriptions on the table.

  Mykel and Nara played in the water, occasionally diving to the bottom. Mykel could hold his breath much longer than she. Once, he sat on the floor of the pool long enough to bring her to a panic, but he finally surfaced and spit water in her face. She splashed him in return. As they played, Nara wondered how much time they would have in this place before calamity fell upon them again. How long before those who pursued them found their way to her? She hoped it would be a long time.

  Little blue birds flew overhead as Gwyn watched the youths swim. She thought how easy it could be to forget about Vorick and hide in this place for a while. How easy it would be to join these people, live in this cavern, and pretend the outside world didn't exist. If they knew what was coming for them, they would be fearful right now, instead of playing, laughing, and splashing.

  She wondered how Vorick would kill Mykel. As much as Mykel's healing powers were a nice trick, they wouldn't help him against the minister. How much training would the young man actually receive before he was tested?

  And Nara. She was the unknown factor. Mykel wouldn't be able to stand up against Vorick, but maybe she could. In order for that to happen, she would need to grow up very fast, to embrace whatever strange talents she possessed. Gwyn thought of the way Nara had opened the tunnel door. The child had poured magic into the water rune, without a cepp, from her own spirit. As a watcher, Gwyn had seen many things, but never anything like that. What else was she capable of?

  "Beautiful, aren't they?" Anne said.

  Gwyn pivoted, surprised.

  "Young, ignorant, and happy," Anne continued. "As happy as possible under the circumstances."

  "Yes," Gwyn said. The unspoken admonishment was not lost on her. Anne knew Gwyn's intentions and was making her suffer in advance for the betrayal she intended to inflict.

  "She doesn't seem very strong. Why does he care for her so much?" Gwyn asked.

  "I don't know. You should ask him. Maybe he senses how much she needs him and, at least for now, how vulnerable she is. Mykel is drawn to people who need him, and he yearns to keep them safe. But maybe he also senses her potential, her greatness. Maybe he longs to be nearby, to be part of it. Why does anyone love another person?"

  "I really wouldn't know," Gwyn said, then went silent for a time as her thoughts ran about on their own. There was something valuable happening here, in this cavern, and between Mykel and Nara. Something important, she was sure of it. Would Gwyn's betrayal disturb that? Would it destroy them? Or was it a necessary part of their story?

  "Why do you not protect them?" Gwyn turned as she asked, looking intently at the ancient woman, betraying her own frustration with the circumstances. Gwyn's words fumbled as she tried to articulate her anger. "Why… why would you let me turn them over to Vorick?"

  "I don't care to judge the ways of people," she said. "My role is to guide, to teach, and to watch."

  "That's cowardly of you. I would think that someone so old and wise could come up with a better way to lead the rest of us." Gwyn gritted her teeth as she spoke, not sure if she was feeling frustration with Anne, or simply struggling with her own shame.

  "You're one to talk about cowardice," Anne said. "You'd destroy these children to save your own skin."

  "It's not like that. I don't wish them any harm."

  "Then stand up to your master, woman! Put your neck on the line for another human being. You wear the trappings of a warrior as if you're brave and proud, but you're nothing but a scared little girl inside."

  "You know nothing of me," Gwyn said.

  After a time, Anne continued. "Everyone makes their own choices. Just remember, you're not defined by who you were yesterday. You're defined by what you actually do. Today. In fact, it's the only choice you ever have. What you do right now is all that matters."

  The words hung in the air as Anne walked away. Gwyn had manufactured justifications aplenty for her actions in the past and continued to do so even as she planned to reveal Nara's whereabouts to the minister. She thought she had come to terms with her own role in the world long ago. Assassin. Soldier. A hired sword who followed orders. But she had never felt part of something before. Part of a family, like the bond these people seemed to have. Would the warmth of a family have helped her to become a different person? A better one?

  As she watched Nara and Mykel emerge from the water, she discarded self-deprecation to return to her accustomed indifference. Emotional detachment she understood, and it had oft provided a haven for her.

  The group made a trip to the cabin to gather their belongings and return to the large cavern. As they walked back, Nara wondered again how long they would be able to stay before they would have to be on the move.

  They lay their bedrolls in a dark hall, tucked away in a corner of the cavern. Nara placed her bedroll near Anne, Bylo, and Mykel, but Gwyn placed her bedroll in a particularly dark section, apart from the others.

  The sleeping hall bore a few small light runes; it was dark enough to sleep, but not so much that one stumbled into things. After they bedded down, Nara spoke up, finding her thoughts too busy to allow her to rest.

  "Anne?" she asked.

  "Yes, Nara."

  "How did they make the cavern?"

  "Earth shapers."

  "Never heard of them," Nara said.

  "You've heard of flamers. They control fire. Others can control earth or air or water. Earth shapers mold rocks, dirt, and stone. The stuff from which living things grow."

  "Wow," Nara said. "Fire destroys, but these earth people could create such wonder. Beautiful."

  "Yes, it is."

  "Where did they all go?"

  "Lost," Anne said. "Hundreds of years ago. Along with many other folks."

  "The end of the Breshi?" Nara asked.

  "Yes."

  Nara had been nursing a growing headache. Although it wasn't strong, it was enough to keep her from sleeping. She lay alone with her thoughts, quietly pondering the Breshi earth shapers, how the land was without them now. She pondered the beauty they had created, and the power held by the earth. Mountains towered over all living things, grand and majestic, with massive
stones and peaks one could see for miles. But earth was also pebbles and soil. Pebbles she had thrown into ponds, and soil that gave birth to potatoes one could eat, trees that provided homes for animals and shelter for people. Earth was big, and it was small. It was everywhere, and it was amazing. What would it be like to be an earth shaper?

  She thought about the protection rune and the power it would unlock for Mykel. The water rune and how it commanded the doors in the cavern. Did the runes in Bylo's book each unlock powers?

  She glanced about to ensure that the others had fallen asleep, hearing only the soft sounds of slow breathing. She peeled back her blankets, then looked about. In the dim light, she could see the outline of Bylo's pack against the far stone wall. She checked to make sure nobody was watching, then sneaked over and carefully unbuckled the straps. A moment later, her fingers gripped the leather of his manuscript. He had never let her read it before and certainly wouldn't approve of it now, but she needed to see the runes. Before she could talk herself out of it, she was out of the sleeping area and halfway across the well-lit cavern, manuscript tucked under one arm.

  She exited the cavern, then ran through the woods, eventually finding her way to the top of the hill and the moonlit plateau. Nobody would think to find her way out here. Sitting under one of the birch trees, her fingers moved across the worn, brittle pages. Unable to read the text in the dim light, her focus was entirely upon the margins and the treasures inscribed there, but the moon failed her. In her haste to steal away, she was no longer in the cavern, where the light runes would have provided the illumination she needed.

  Of course. The light runes.

  She closed her eyes and pictured the shape of the light rune. It snapped into her mind, shocking her with the suddenness of it. She fed it some energy, and at once her headache was banished. Use of her magic often reduced the pains, but they rarely abated completely, and the relief was welcome.

  When she opened her eyes, she was stunned to see that her hands were aglow with a scintillating, multicolored light, blinding in its intensity, lighting up the whole plateau. She shut down the energy with a thought and started again, eyes open this time, summoning the rune and feeding it only a trickle of power, like a soft exhale over a long moment. Her hands glowed ever so slightly, like a strong candle, just enough to read the book without hurting her eyes. The words and designs of the manuscript came to life with the light, and she turned her attention to the pages and the runes. So many were wrong, but she could almost tell how they should have been drawn. Imperfect, but close enough that Bylo's work to refine them now seemed important. Only now could she appreciate all the time he had spent with this book over the years.

  Then she found the one she was looking for. It was ornate, with multiple sweeping strokes that crossed over one another. It had been drawn incorrectly, but it was close, and she closed her eyes to picture it more clearly. She set the manuscript on a nearby rock and pondered the pattern, moving it about in her thoughts until she found its true shape and it fell into place. She placed her palms down on the ground and fed the rune some energy, opening her mouth in surprise as she did so.

  The earth was alive. She opened her eyes and grabbed a clump of dirt in her hand. It looked simple with her normal vision, but with the rune alive in her mind, she could sense the potential in the dirt, no longer inert and lifeless but like an extension of her body. Maybe a little toe. She wiggled it.

  The clump of dirt came apart in her hand, becoming a cloud of particles that moved in a tiny whirlwind. It assembled itself into a pillar of dirt several inches high, then abruptly compressed into a tiny pebble. She inhaled deeply in surprise and stopped the wiggling. The dirt collapsed into a pile on her palm.

  "That's earth-shaping,"

  Nara started at the voice from behind her.

  "You surprised me!" she said, turning to see Anne leaning against the tree in the near darkness.

  "With time, you will get better. You won't carve a cavern with rivers and lagoons anytime soon, mind you. And you'll exhaust yourself many times before you figure out how to be efficient with your energies, but you've taken the first step."

  "I sense power in there, Anne." Nara dropped her hands to the soil again and closed her eyes. "It's almost as if I can feel its heartbeat. As if there is energy inside the earth."

  "There's life in everything, Nara. We all come from the same place."

  "But power in dirt?"

  "Yes, a bit. Not much. Not like living things, but if you reach deep enough, it's there." Anne started to walk back across the plateau toward the cavern.

  Before she went far, Nara called out to her. "What else can I do?"

  "Anything you want," Anne called back. "Keep practicing."

  The next morning, Mykel awoke to the pain of something hitting him in the ribs.

  "Ow!" he yelled, rolling away from the assault to spy Anne holding a stick in her hand.

  "Get up! You have work to do," Anne said.

  "Did you have to hit me?"

  "Are you worried about some sort of permanent injury, little boy? Or does pain still make you shiver and cringe?"

  Little boy. The term rankled his pride. This woman couldn't be as harsh as she pretended, could she? He agreed with her, however. Pain shouldn't be the obstacle for him that it once had been. After years of reacting violently to injury, as most people did, he found it difficult to overcome the habit.

  "Don't worry, we'll work that fear out of you, son," Anne said. "Get dressed—you'll be training today."

  Thoughts of wielding a sword motivated him to rise quickly. Swords were a symbol of power and virility in the culture of the Great Land, and he pictured himself walking around Dimmitt with a blade dangling in a scabbard from his belt. He wondered what Nara would think of him. Mykel the warrior. Mykel the blade-master. Thoughts of nobility and grandeur occupied his mind as he dressed and walked out of the alcove into the brighter light of the cavern. Gwyn greeted him.

  "You're with me today," she said. "Anne has asked me to teach."

  After leaving the cavern, Gwyn led him on a long run, forbidding him to replenish himself. Yesterday's endless running had done wonders for his conditioning, and he easily kept up with Gwyn's fast pace. "Why are you staying with us?" he asked between breaths. "I'm grateful, of course, but didn't you want to visit family or something?"

  "They aren't expecting me yet," she said. "Are you already tired of me?"

  "No, of course not! I just didn't want to keep you. You can stay as long as you like."

  After a couple of rounds about the hill, Gwyn cut two long saplings, removed the small branches from them, and gathered vines. She then walked down to the creek bed. Mykel watched as she selected two heavy, oblong rocks. Kneeling at the side of the creek, she tied the rocks to the end of the saplings with the vines.

  "Perfect," she said.

  "What are they for?" Mykel asked.

  "Your training."

  Gwyn led Mykel back into the cavern, a rock-laden sapling in each of her hands. When they arrived at the training area in the center, she tossed one of the saplings to Mykel. She dropped the other at her feet.

  "Hold the stick by the end," Gwyn said.

  At first he gripped it by the rock in his right hand, but when Gwyn scoffed at him he switched to the other end, embarrassed. Apparently, she meant the stone to give weight, not to serve as a grip.

  "Hold it out as far as you can to one side," she said.

  He moved the long stick out to his right side and adjusted his stance to prevent from toppling over. It was heavy.

  "The weight on the end makes it difficult to hold aloft," Gwyn said.

  "No kidding," Mykel said. "It's a lot heavier than it appears."

  "Carrying a sword, axe, or staff can be like this in a long battle," she said. "What seems manageable close to your body becomes unwieldy when held at arm's length. This is the first lesson."

  His shoulder already began to strain under the pressure, and muscle failure w
as imminent.

  "I can't go any longer," he said, dropping the stick to the ground, the stone at the end striking the surface of the training area.

  "Again," Gwyn said.

  "Give me a second," he said.

  "Lift it!"

  Her raised voice reminded him of Anne's admonishments yesterday during the runs around the hill. Then he remembered how he had conquered that challenge. Of course!

  He lifted his arm, immediately feeling the pain of muscles failing under the extreme strain, but without closing his eyes he flared health, and the pain in his shoulder faded. Gwyn went over to the sapling, put her hand on the stone, and pushed down against him. Mykel matched her pressure, but the pain lanced through his shoulder and he flared health again. Gwyn's pressure did not relent, and she turned to him with a mischievous look. She was testing him and probably enjoying herself. He redoubled his efforts and flared health yet again to relieve the agony that surged.

  It's only pain, he told himself. Pain is just information, to be welcomed and not feared.

  He flared health again and lifted with all the effort he could muster. The stone at the end of the sapling rose with his effort even with Gwyn's downward pressure.

  "Good," she said. "Now out to the front."

  She directed the sapling in front of him, keeping downward pressure to work his shoulder in a different manner.

  "Don't let up!" she encouraged.

  The rotation engaged new muscles, allowing the tired muscles to relax. After a moment, the newly-straining muscles began to fatigue, and he flared health again. After a few minutes, Gwyn stopped him and directed him to put the sapling in his left hand. The training continued like this for over an hour, but the frequent healing replenished the muscles, and he knew he was getting stronger. Eventually, he held both saplings out to his sides, one in each arm.

  "You build new muscle quickly, Mykel. Anne suspected this would be possible."

  New muscle? Repeated activity could indeed make a man stronger, and Mykel thought of the dock workers who unloaded the crates of fish from the boats in Dimmitt's harbor. Their arms and backs rippled with strength, having spent years lifting and carrying. Could he achieve that in a shorter time?