“An orphan who knows precious little of his heritage. You say you are not from royal lineage…how would you know?” She looked at me expectantly with a glitter in her eyes.
“You mean to tell me that I am somehow distantly related to this ancient King?”
She nodded. “Not just distantly related. You are a direct descendant through your father’s line.”
I thought back on what Quiniewa had told me when we last met. “But, my ability to call Markai is not from my father. I inherited that from my mother and yet on my sword, on King Vlearian’s sword, is an image of Markai.”
She smiled. “The Talent of charming is passed from mother to son. The King had inherited the ability from his mother as you did from yours. You are the first to have both the Navitas and Charming Talent since him.” We sat in silence for a while.
I got up and started pacing. “Quiniewa, you tell me of my heritage, you tell me that I am a descendant of this great King. Master Boryka gives me an ancient sword and tells me that it was destined for me. What does it all mean? Is this just part of a typical Seeking? What is expected of me?” I looked at her imploringly, wanting clear answers from her.
She only gave me a sympathetic smile. “No Seeking is ‘typical’, Kadin, but no, your Seeking is different. It is more… it is what it was always meant to be. The Seeking has been waiting a long time for you. As for what it all means, well we all want to know our roads ahead, but we cannot. The Guardians will help you along, teach you what you need to know and advise you as best we can, but you must still discover your own way. Even we cannot see what the future holds for you. What I can give you is some knowledge of what went before.”
She cleared her throat and her voice took on a lecturing note. “In ancient times, long before King Vlearian lived, gods roamed the earth with us. We served them and in return, they offered us protection, blessed us with prosperity. All nations of men and the fae folk knew their place. Peace reigned on earth for six thousand years. In spite of that, men grew restless. They wanted more. They did not want to merely serve, they wanted to rule. Groups of dissidents started meeting and recruiting those with Talents and even some among the fae. Men may not be gods, but they do have a certain aptitude for stealth, violence and war. All of which served them well. At least it did in the beginning.”
I looked at her in disbelief. “How could mere men and even the fae have thought they stood any chance against gods?” She lifted an eyebrow at my interruption and then went on smoothly.
“The Rebellion did not stand a chance in open war so they schemed and plotted on how to bring them to their knees. They realised that the gods’ power were dependant on the people. Their belief, their servitude, their obedience, take that away and the gods would fall. This is something that the gods themselves had never even considered. As they say, ‘pride comes before the fall’. They started with small things, spreading insidious rumours and lies. If they could get the gods at odds with each other or even better, at war, it would create an opportunity for them to gain control. The effect was slow, but relentless. It spread like a disease.”
“Factions formed and with it, cracks appeared and grew in society. Eventually open war broke out between the gods. They destroyed each other and once the damage was done, the people swiftly turned against the remaining gods that they had seemingly been supporting. Gods may be powerful, but there is even more power in numbers. Fierce battles were fought until one day the people woke to find them gone. The gods had abandoned them. Overnight the face of society changed. People celebrated a great victory. The celebration however, did not last long. Often reality does not measure up to the dream and quickly they started to realise what they had lost. Up until then earth had never known a day of strife. Hard work yes, but not strife. Famine, war and worst of all, dark beings plagued them. Soon people and fae alike were begging forgiveness, begging the gods to return. Silence was their only answer and this is what became known as the Severance.”
She paused, looking at the statue of the King with a faraway look in her eyes. Finally, I asked. “What do you mean by dark beings? What are they?”
Her lips pulled tight and a frown appeared between her brows. “There are many. Beings that are pure evil. They come from all forms of life. And death. There are two types; the first are the Dark Children, creations of Rakadamon, the Master of the Dark. Born from his twisted mind and shaped by his corrupt hands. The second are the Twisted Ones. Ordinary beings, be they human, fae or animal that have been taken and warped by him.”
I shivered and put my hand on the hilt of my sword as if I had to be ready to defend against these creatures. “Why have I not heard of creatures such as these? It seems that folklore would be filled with the like.”
She nodded. “They would be if anyone remembered them. Rakadamon and his followers were defeated in the last Great Battle. They were banished from this realm.”
She pointed to the massive statue. “King Vlearian led the defence in this battle and even he has been wiped from memory. See, often times people would rather forget. Especially when they feel safe. When they think the problem has been taken care of. Unfortunately for us, this time, they were wrong.”
I frowned. “How could they be wrong? It has been five thousand years and no one knows about these things. They must be long gone.”
She simply shook her head. “Forgotten, but not gone and they are once more stirring. We believe the Dark Master must be behind it, but how this is possible we do not know yet.” She gave me a measuring look as if she was trying to see right into my soul.
Finally, she sighed. “Much will depend on you Kadin Aken. You must walk with your eyes open and as the wise one says, be aware that for all you see, there is much more that you do not.”
Everything around me faded until finally, darkness surrounded me. I looked around. “Quiniewa? Markai?” Out of the dark Markai came sauntering over to me. She pressed her massive head against my chin and I realised that she was much bigger than before. I stared at her in wonder. Her shoulders came up to my chest. Suddenly she turned and gave my hand a nip. I started and sat up in my bedroll with Markai sitting next to me. Dawn was just breaking.
After washing my face, I stretched and started the Shea-Rin. Once again, my body moved as if I had been practising it my whole life, but at the end the same exhaustion enveloped me and I all but collapsed in a heap of shivers.
Finally, I saddled Balder and dragged myself onto her. I gave her free rein, not caring where I was going. Markai was trotting next to us and every now and again disappeared into the surrounding woods.
Throughout the day, I did not even stop for meals, eating dried meat and some flat bread in the saddle. I became aware of far off voices and children laughing. I did not know the area well, but I was not aware of any villages close by. Curious, I heeled Balder in the direction of the sounds.
As I got closer, I could hear them more clearly as well as other general village noises. Some houses appeared between the trees. I started dreaming of the hot meal I would have if they had a common dining hall or even an inn. A low growl emanating from Markai brought me out of my reverie. I could feel her hackles rising.
As we moved closer, she was becoming more unsettled. She snarled. Danger, evil…murder. I realised then that all the noise had disappeared leaving an eerie stillness. Even the forest around us had gone quiet and the constant bird chatter had vanished.
As we came clear of the forest we were met by a terrible sight. The village only consisted of a few houses, but they were all burnt out, smoke still rising from some of the buildings. The dead lay scattered everywhere. Men, women, children, even babes lay with cold dead eyes staring as if still seeing their killers. They were not merely dead, but mutilated.
Unbidden the image of my father’s mutilated body sprang to my mind, but I quickly pushed it away. Surely, the village noises and voices I had heard could not have come from here. To be certain, I dismounted and searched for survivors without much hope. Among al
l the chaos, I saw paw prints in the dust. They were similar to a wolf’s, but much larger and the imprint from the middle pad suggested that it was split into three parts. I did not recognise them, but Markai with her nose in the air informed me that this was at least partly the work of the Dyrrendrel.
I shuddered, Grer had said that they were simply animals, so how could they have been involved in this…. this….. massacre? I could tell from Markai that she smelt someone, no, something else had been there, but she did not know what. What she did know, was that this other…. thing that had been here was pure evil.
My skin was crawling; I did not like being in the place where such an atrocity had been committed and I had an eerie feeling of being watched. I got back on Balder and started back the way I had come, but then I heard a groan. I heeled her round and called, “Hello….hello….I want to help you!”
I looked around desperately trying to find him. Just to my right I heard another moan. I saw the boy’s hand move. I jumped down from Balder and raced over to him. He was only a boy, no more than ten cycles old. He was very badly hurt.
Blood covered his face and matted his hair to his head. Large cuts covered his body. Painfully, he turned his head to look at me with one eye, the other was swollen shut. He opened his mouth several times as if to say something.
I ran back to Balder and grabbed my water skin from my saddlebags. I dribbled the water into his mouth and was relieved when I saw him swallow a few times. His breathing was haggard and wheezed in and out. He looked at me, his eyes intent. “Wolves…. listening….. wolves,” he took another shuddering breath, “listening to…. men….. no….. not men… monsters.” He coughed and I dribbled more water into his mouth.
“They said…. said only beginning…. were looking for…. for something.” His eyes fluttered.
I gave his hand a squeeze. “What were they looking for?”
He struggled to open his eyes again. “I don’t….. I don’t,” his eyes went large and wildly he looked around. “Monsters… could feel them coming before… no, please. Don’t let them hurt. Don’t hurt me.”
I squeezed his hand gently and let him drink some more water. “Don’t worry. They are gone now. They are not here anymore. They won’t hurt you anymore.” He started convulsing; his body shaking violently. Suddenly he went still.
He opened his eyes, but they had rolled back so far in his head that only the whites were showing. He gave me a cold stare. With sudden force that I would not have thought him capable of, he jerked me closer by my hand. “We will find you. We will find you, Kadin.” His voice was a deep rumble like a rake drawn over gravel. Abruptly, his hand went lax in mine and his face smoothed out with the release of death.
My stomach turned over and I jerked my hand away from him as if stung. I suddenly had a desperate urge to get as far away from that place as possible. My heart was hammering and I all but ran back to Balder. I urged her on to a gallop and we raced through the forest for several leagues before slowing down to a walk, but I did not stop for several more hours.
Finally, failing light forced me to make camp. With Markai watching, I practised the Shea-Rin. It was a relief to make my whole being focus on something other than what I had seen. At the end of it, I was pleased to notice my knees were not trembling from exhaustion. I sheathed Sunder, but this night I kept it strapped to my belt. I thought of all the faerie tale creatures I knew, but none bore any resemblance to the Dyrrendrel.
I had some dried meat, flat bread and a wedge of hard cheese for dinner and sat staring into the fire while eating. Markai was lying next to me and I lay my hand on her shoulder to reassure myself of her presence. I tried not to think about the village, about the boy, about his white eyes and the voice that was not his. However, at the same time it felt important; a piece of a puzzle that I had only glimpsed thus far. I needed to speak to Quiniewa. But how could I reach her? I had no tea left and that was my only connection with her.
There was only one thing I could think of to try. I sat down on my bedroll and focused my Navitas. Markai was studying me intently and I reached out to her. The bond between us was new to me, to us, but I started probing her mentally. I closed my eyes and concentrated.
Slowly, I became intensely aware of her. Her thoughts, emotions, her memories, all flowed and mixed with my own until I could not separate the two. She knew Quiniewa from before so I tried to focus in on her memories of meetings with the Teacher. I reached through her to Quiniewa; I visualised meeting with her. When I opened my eyes, I saw it.
I was standing at the foot of a great wooden bridge. It stretched away from me into nothingness. I strained my eyes to see where it went, but could not see the end of it. Markai started across and I followed. Halfway across, I walked right into what seemed like an invisible wall. Markai was already beyond this apparent obstruction and was looking back waiting for me to follow.
I pushed at it and felt it give way under my hand and then spring back into place. I pushed harder, but it resisted. I pushed with all my might, but that only seemed to make the barrier stronger. I put my hand against it and reached out with Navitas. I was shocked to find that it almost felt alive. Not quite the same, but almost organic.
I probed the edges of it trying to figure out a way through. I brought an image of Quiniewa to mind. I tried to focus completely on my need to find her. All of a sudden, the wall stopped resisting. In fact, it was pulling me in. I started tensing, but forced myself to relax. I took a deep breath just before my head went in. It felt as though I was being squeezed, my breath was forced out of my lungs and I could not draw another. Dizziness started to overwhelm me and if not for the invisible arms squeezing me I might have collapsed. Abruptly the pressure vanished. I sank to my knees gasping for breath. Spots danced in my vision.
Once I recovered enough to breathe normally, I got back to my feet. The air seemed different, thicker somehow. I could still not see the end of the bridge. I set off with Markai padding along beside me. I started seeing some trees faintly in the distance. As I continued, I could make out the shape of some roofs through the trees, but it all still seemed faint, as if it could disappear in an instant.
I came to the end of the bridge still with no clear idea of what I was walking toward. The moment I stepped off the bridge everything in front of me came into sharp focus. I gasped. I was back at the burnt out village. The bodies still were I had left them. Panic rose in my throat. What if this had been a trap? What if the ones that said they would find me, had somehow led me here? I turned around intending to run right back across the bridge. My heart sank. The bridge was gone and in its place was the forest. Markai looked back at me and set off towards the village. Clenching my teeth against the fear, I followed.
We stepped clear of the trees and relief flooded through me. Quiniewa was standing at the edge of the village. She did not look at me as I approached. She was in the form of the elderly woman, and for the first time, she really looked old. Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to see something in the distance.
“You are the first human capable of Travelling since before the Severance.” She looked at me with raised eyebrows. “You are the first human capable of not only maintaining a connection with an Enchanted while doing it, but summoning one of the Fae as well.” She gave her head a small shake. “Ever.”
After a short silence she continued. “The most surprising of all: I did not suspect the potential in you. I should have, but I did not. There I am preaching to you to believe the impossible is attainable when I did not even entertain this possibility. Curse me for a fool. By not preparing you for that, I had in fact risked your life. I apologise for my failure.” She bowed to me, her face sombre.
I was unsure how to respond to this. “What do you mean my life was at risk?”
Her brows knitted together, but a small smile curved the edges of her lips. “If you did not realise your life was at risk then perhaps you are even stronger yet. No one has ever attempted to Travel without instruction. Even s
o, a significant number do not make it through. They enter, never to be seen again. No one knows where they went or what happened to them.” My stomach gave a bit of a twist at that. Had I known the risk, would I have been brave enough to face it?
I looked across the desolated village and I shivered. “Quiniewa, do you know what happened here? Who did this?” Her mouth pulled into a thin tight line.
Her hands balled into fists. “We never imagined that Rakadamon’s plans could have been this far advanced already. This is the work of the Dark Children and the Twisted Ones. They do his bidding. This is not simply a physical war, Kadin. This is a war for our very souls. What you see here was not a simple massacre. These people would have been given a choice: Give your soul to the Dark Master and live to serve him, or die in agony. The fact that we see so many bodies here is testimony to the moral character this village had. You will play a pivotal role in the events to come. They want to see to it that you never get the chance. Your carefree days are over, Kadin. You will have to look over your shoulder by day and sleep with one eye open and your sword by your side at night. You are hunted.”
Iciness crept down my back. This was what I had feared and yet to have that fear confirmed was hard to take. I tried to hide my alarm keeping my face smooth. I gave a tight nod.
Still staring straight ahead, she continued. “Now more than ever you need to keep Markai close. She will do all in her power to keep you safe.”
Suddenly a thought occurred to me. “Do you know of any legends or folklore that speaks of the Dyrrendrel? Are they common in certain areas of Surrelmidia?”
She looked confused at my question and she shook her head. “No. The Dark Master worked hard at erasing any trace and every memory of his Children. People were all too glad to forget. Why do you ask this?”
Book of Remembrance: The Forgotten Gods: Book One Page 6
