“Hello, Dominic. Brother Jonas.” A familiar voice called from the carriage.
Dominic glanced over and saw Tomaris’ dusky and lined face as he leaned out of the carriage window. His white hair seemed to catch the sun while his unusual purple eyes seemed to take in everything. He gestured for Jonas to come closer. Jonas rode over and dismounted, going to stand next to the carriage window. The two put their heads together and spoke quietly.
“Captain.” Dominic addressed the officer. “These men are friends and pose no threat to the city. I will vouch for these men and Brother Jonas and I will escort them while they are in the city. Is that sufficient to let them pass?”
“Of course, Dominic.” The officer replied, giving him a short bow.
“Thank you, Captain.” Dominic said with a nod of his head. “Send your messenger with us so he can bring this horse back.” The captain complied, relaying the order to the soldier.
Dominic looked back towards Jonas. “Jonas.” He called over. “Should we head to the Temple?”
Jonas spoke with Tomaris again, and then looked at Dominic. “No. Go to Norlan’s.” He motioned a solider over to take the horse he was riding. “I will ride with Tomaris.”
Dominic nodded as Jonas climbed into the carriage. He motioned to Deepwood. “Join me, Moshanna.” He said politely. “Please have the carriage and your men follow us.” Deepwood gave the orders to his men and the driver of the carriage, then rode over next to Dominic.
With the creak of leather and wood and sounds of horseshoes ringing off the paving stones, the group headed into the city.
…
After Jonas and Dominic had left, Jake had sheathed his sword and gone outside to walk off some of his nervous energy. He was surprised and a bit unsettled to have faced down both Jonas and Dominic. He also felt slightly detached and conflicted between his regard for both men and his determination to not allow Jonas to risk his life to attempt to help him. He was wrestling with his emotions when Norlan joined him.
“What was going on, Jake?” Norlan asked quietly, concern in his voice. “Why did you have your sword on Jonas?”
“He was going to attempt to heal me, but I think if he tries, he will be seriously hurt or maybe even die.” Jake replied, glancing around to make sure no one else was nearby. “That is the reason he didn’t do it before. Unless I know for sure that he won’t get hurt, I’m not going to allow him to risk healing me.”
“If Jonas cannot heal you, then what will you do?” Norlan inquired. “You cannot stay in this state, where only your power allows you to move.” He paused, thinking. “I trust Jonas knows what he is about. If he believes that there are no other option and thinks that it could work, maybe you should let him try.” He placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “You cannot decide for other what risks they will take.”
“This is different, Norlan.” Jake stated stubbornly. “I know that Jonas is skilled in healing and thinks that he can do something for me. But how can I live with myself if, to heal me, Jonas dies?”
“I don’t have an easy answer for you, lad.” Norlan replied, sighing heavily. He paused, then spoke more firmly. “If I could do something to help you, even if it meant risking my life, I would. I know that Jonas and Dominic would do the same. We are grown men, capable of deciding for ourselves what we will gamble our lives on. You may just have to find a way to come to terms with that.”
They walked around the yard in silence; Jake wrestling with his feelings while Norlan was seemingly content to let him. After a couple of times around the yard, Norlan stopped. “I know that this is a hard matter, Jake.” He said simply. “You risked your life to rescue Cherise and the princess. They did not ask for it, but are grateful that you did. Do not try to deny someone from doing the same for you.” He patted Jake on the arm as he turned to go into the house. “I think that your concern for Jonas’ well-being is admirable, but try to remember that, in this case, concern runs both ways.”
After Norlan went back inside, Jake headed back to his room. He sat on his bed, restless, contemplating what he should do. What Norlan said made sense, but he could not bring himself to let Jonas die in an attempt to help him.
He was sitting there, unhappily, mulling over all of the options, when there was a knock at his door. He heard Hailyn call out from the other side.
“Jake, are you in?” She asked.
“I’m here.” He replied. “Come in.”
There was something different about Hailyn when she walked into his room. At first, Jake could not figure out what it was. She appeared the same, with her curly brown hair neatly done, a smile on her face and happiness shining in those golden-flaked eyes. Like a bolt from the blue, it came to him. She was dressed in brown clerics’ robes.
“What happened, Hailyn?” He inquired. “Why are you in the clerics’ robes?”
“I passed my tests this morning.” Hailyn said, delight in her voice. “I’m no longer an apprentice.”
“Congratulations, Hailyn!” Jake exclaimed, happy for her success. “What were the tests like? What will you do now?”
Hailyn came and sat at the end of the bed. “I faced a panel of clerics, including Jonas, who tested me on my knowledge of the teachings of the One. After that, I was given practical exercises to complete, including healing in the clinic. Once that was finished, I waited in the Temple. It seemed forever, but eventually Jonas came out to tell me I had passed and welcomed me as a cleric. After several hours of contemplation and prayer, Sister Silvan brought me my new robes. I have spent the last couple of hours clearing my things from the apprentice quarters and moving into the clerics’ quarters. There will be a formal ceremony in a few days, but for now, I have been given leave to rest and relax.”
“As to what I will do, that will depend on Jonas.” She continued. “Since I am a healer, I may be sent to serve with the army or I may stay and work in the clinic at the Temple. It is also possible that I will be sent to serve a community elsewhere in the country.”
“Elsewhere? Really?” Jake muttered, startled, having grown so use to Hailyn being nearby. He was surprised that the thought of Hailyn leaving hurt him more than having to say goodbye to Keria. “That sucks.”
“Don’t worry, Jake.” Hailyn said soothingly. “It is likely that Jonas will take your situation into consideration when making the decision.”
“I hope so.” Jake stated. He looked at Hailyn, meeting her eyes. “You are my closest friend here. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I am glad to hear that, Jake.” Hailyn said with a smile. “I have grown fond of you as well.”
Jake smiled back, blushing slightly and cursing again that he could not seem to stay cool and collected around women. I’m sure Marcus would have something smooth to say. He grimaced to himself.
Before he could say anything, there were sudden voices outside, then the door curtain pulled back and Dominic stepped inside, followed by Jonas. Both had an air of anticipation about them. To Jake, they seemed to have let the earlier confrontation slide. “We have someone who wishes to speak with you, boy.” Dominic said.
The curtain parted again and Jake was amazed to see Tomaris come in the room. He was dressed in the same gray robe he always wore at the Keep, that slight hunch on the shoulders visible as he walked slowly, a brown satchel hanging from his shoulder. He looked over at Jake, those purple eyes wise and knowing, but turned to Hailyn, who was rising from the bed. “Who is this lovely child?” He asked, his voice rheumy like Jake remembered.
“This is Hailyn, the newest cleric of the Temple.” Jonas replied for her. “She and Jake are good friends.”
“It is good to have friends, is it not?” Tomaris said, more a statement than a question.
“Greetings, Master Tomaris.” Hailyn said with a nod of her head. “Jake has told me about his time with you at the Keep.”
“Has he?” Tomaris asked, sounding pleased. “It is my pleasure to meet you, Sister Hailyn. Perhaps we will have time to spea
k with each other.”
Tomaris turned to Jake, coming closer, his eyes studying Jake’s condition. “Release your power, child, so I can see what has been done to you.” He said reassuringly. “Jonas has told me what you did and about your condition.”
“I don’t think that is a good idea.” Jake responded. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Fear not, Jake.” Tomaris said with a light smile. “There is no danger here for me.”
Taking a deep breath, Jake let go of his magic, weariness settling over him like a blanket, and watched as Tomaris drew near. Jake could feel that crawling sensation radiating off all of them, most strongly from Tomaris, Jonas and Hailyn, with a weaker sensation from Dominic. Once Tomaris stopped near him, Jake felt a sudden change. If his condition had allowed, he would have jumped. Unexpectedly, he could no longer feel anything from Tomaris!
Jake watched, fascinated by the absence, as Tomaris closed his eyes and slowly reached out to touch his forehead. Jake felt Tomaris’ warm, dry and papery-feeling skin, but he also felt a different sort of tingling from that touch. He felt it spread through his body, distracting him from the other sensation. Tomaris stayed like that for several moments, then pulled his hand away. He opened his eyes, giving Jake a pat on the shoulder, then turned to address Jonas.
“It is good that you did not try to heal Jake.” Tomaris said. “It is as you suspected. Jake intertwined his life force with his power when he launched that last attack. Had you tried to heal him, likely you would have died.”
“Then is there nothing to be done?” Jonas asked dejectedly.
“If we work together, I think we can address his infirmity.” Tomaris replied, looking down and giving Jake a reassuring smile. “There is a risk, but it will be less than if either of us tried on our own.” He turned back to Jonas. “However, we must discuss what I discovered before we take that step.”
“Should I remain, Master Tomaris?” Hailyn asked, unsure of her place in this situation.
“Please do, my dear.” Tomaris said kindly. “I believe that you should hear this.” Hailyn nodded and sat back down at the end of the bed.
Tomaris called in Deepwood, giving Jake another shock; Jake had not considered that Deepwood would be here as well. Deepwood gave Jake a brief salute before turning to Tomaris.
“Moshanna, please make sure that no one attempts to disturb us.” Tomaris requested.
“Of course, Tomaris.” Deepwood replied, then went back outside.
Once he was outside, Tomaris’ face took on a look of concentration, gesturing towards the walls. Jake could suddenly see a shimmering in the air, similar to heat waves coming off hot ground, cover the walls, windows and door. Once the shimmering was complete, Tomaris pulled the stool over, sitting down and pulling his satchel to his front.
“When Dominic and Jake left the Keep, I also left.” Tomaris explained. “I have been tracking down relics and information about our enemies since I was a young man. Over the long years, I have heard many rumors and tales of lost artifacts, piecing together what I could to determine if the tales were real, and, when possible, retrieving these artifacts.” He reached into his satchel and gently pulled out an ancient-looking scroll, dry and crumbling, holding it tenderly. “I left to find this, one of the things I had feared was lost to the ages.” He looked over at Jonas. “This is the scroll of Arnes, telling of his visit by the Guardian.”
“Arnes?!” Jonas exclaimed, looking shocked. “Are you sure?” Hailyn had her hand over her mouth, her eyes looking stunned. Even Dominic seemed taken aback.
“Quite sure, Jonas.” Tomaris stated with conviction.
“Who’s Arnes?” Jake inquired.
“Arnes was the first cleric, Jake.” Tomaris said gently. “When the demons appeared, he came out of the wilderness, empowered with the clerics’ magic and taught it to the other clerics. It is said that he himself was taught by the Guardian.”
“Guardian?” Jake asked, feeling lost in this conversation.
“The Guardian.” Tomaris said, looking over at Jonas. “It is a belief of the clerics that the Creator assigned a Guardian to protect this world from the demons.”
“He doesn’t seemed to have done too good of a job.” Jake stated.
“Many have thought the same, Jake.” Tomaris said. He lifted the scroll and began to gently unroll it. “Here, in Arnes scroll, is the tale of the Guardian and of his failure.” With that, he began to read.
…
The Guardian was wandering in the market of a city on the eastern coast, surrounded by the people who passed him by, unaware of his presence. He was a servant of the Creator, immortal, having existed before Time itself. He was tasked with protecting all of the people on this world, confronting his lost brothers when they sought to influence man. They were trapped in the Darkness, but could still reach into the spiritual realm.
He felt for the telltale darkening of a person’s spirit, a sign that his fallen brothers were at work. He traveled far and wide, his senses trained to detect the disturbances in the spiritual realm, seeking to confront his enemies before they could harm those they sought to influence. He was forbidden to compel the people of this world to do anything, though he could appear in the physical world, his true essence hidden, offering counsel and advice.
He was enjoying the life and vitality of the marketplace, listening to the people haggle, argue and laugh. Suddenly, an overpowering spiritual disturbance staggered him, dark waves of evil sweeping over him. He caught himself and tried to calm the sudden trickle of fear that sprang up inside him. He had never felt anything like it before. Still, he was the Guardian of this world, chosen by the Creator, and he must confront whatever had just happened. He easily located its origin, radiating malevolence like an open wound, and stepped out of reality and moved to that spot.
As he appeared at the point of the disturbance, he was astonished for a second time. He saw a tear in the fabric of reality itself. This tear existed in both the spiritual and physical realm. He would have to heal this tear in both realms, so he stepped out of the spiritual realm and became flesh on the physical plane. He was tall and powerful in his physical form, clothed in shining armor, his breastplate carved with intricate runes. He found himself in a sparsely wooded area, the trees that were standing appeared stunted, the ground littered with rocks and boulders.
In the physical world, the tear appeared as a large, rotating vortex, wedged between two large boulders, the edges lined with red fire and at the center the darkest black. He could feel the strength of the tear and drew his sword. The sword, created and given into his hands by the Creator, was filled with the Light. This gave the Guardian more power than he had in himself. The sword flared brilliantly as he drew it, rivaling the sun in the sky, its power filling him. He studied the tear for several moments before moving forward. He would close it quickly and then repair the damage in the spiritual realm.
As he began moving towards the tear, a voice rose behind him, chillingly familiar. He spun, eyes widening as he saw him standing there. It was his former brother, the one whom he had been closest to, both emotionally and in power, in that period before Creation. He had fallen into Darkness, but was somehow standing on this world. They had fought bitterly during the rebellion, each striving to destroy the other. There were some physical alterations from his time in the Darkness, but it was he. That is impossible. The Guardian thought, stunned.
“So, it is you.” His fallen brother said with satisfaction, a twisted and cruel smile on his face. “I thought I had felt your presence on this world.”
“I do not know how you escaped your prison, but you will find that your release is short-lived.” The Guardian said, moving towards, sword ready, confident in his power.
“That would be true, if I had come alone.” The demon laughed. He gestured and from hiding places amongst the rocks more demons appeared. Their shapes and appearances had been altered from the long eons spent in the Darkness. They spread out and surrounded the G
uardian. He recognized several of the strongest by their essence, including Creatos and Helvan. Those two began to organize the lesser brothers near them.
“This world will be ours, Guardian.” The demon lord taunted. “You cannot stand against us.”
“I am a servant of the Creator, entrusted to defend this world.” The Guardian bravely stated. “You will find that I am not easily defeated.” With that, he surged forward, sword moving.
Calling for the others to attack, the demon lord sent a blistering streak of dark fire towards him, which the Guardian extinguished with his might. He was closing with the demon lord when he was struck on all sides by the demons’ powers. He was buffeted by that assault, but overcame it, his form and sword now blindingly bright, shining with the purest white light. He lashed out at the closest demons, his power burning into them, several of the weaker ones exploding into ash.
He continued trying to get within striking distance to use his sword, but the demons were moving, shifting positions, while continuing to rock him with attacks. He felt some of the dark energy slip past his defenses, burning his skin. He grimaced at the sudden pain, something that he had not felt since the rebellion against the Creator.
He was surrounded on all sides now, a shining island in a sea of dark fire. Needing to protect himself, he was unable to bring his full might to bear, damaging some of the demons, but unable to destroy enough to make a difference. He was still developing a plan of attack when the demons changed tactics.
He was unable to move fast enough when several demons threw themselves against him physically. They pulled at him, trying to bring him down despite the pain that his power caused them, their claws scoring his armor. He was able to throw off his attackers, his sword swinging and catching them, destroying them with flares of Light.
Now the more powerful demons charged him, their fire slamming into him as they closed the distance. He could not avoid Creatos and the demon lord as they crashed into him, rocking him with blows while the other demons kept up a constant bombardment of dark fire. He sent a flare of power into them, causing pain, but not enough to dislodge them. Calling forth his last reservoir of strength, he succeeded in throwing off Creatos, but the demon lord seized his hand holding the sword, ignoring the pain the sword caused, and twisted, wrenching the sword from his hand.
The Jake Thomas Trilogy: Book 02 - Sword of Light Page 10
