Sapling: The Blade of Ahtol

by Dan Gillis

  Zyr felt the hum of power through the room. The Deep Root it was sometimes called, and to have users of all aspects accessing it created the strange noise. The feeling permeated elements and flesh alike. The flows were directed through outstretched arms toward the crystal, now resting in front of Tehsa atop the dais. All she had to do was to reach out and touch the crystal and her path would be determined. Tehsa stare into the now pulsing light that emitted from the crystal. The light reflected upon the glistening brooch clasped to her garment. After a few moments she withdrew her arm from within the loose cloak and touched a finger lightly upon the luminous surface. For a span of time there was no change in the throb of energy in the room.

  All at once Tehsa cried out in what seemed like a sound of fear and terror. Some in the room looked about uncertain with the sound, while the Masters maintained their solemn vigil. Zyr saw the expression fixed upon her face, and puzzled. This was nothing like what he had experienced. Beads of sweat coursed down the young girl's face, even as her hand was now pressed firmly upon the crystal in a strange snare. Finally, the crystal changed. It sparkled and shifted in distinct patterns of colour. At once the Masters relinquished their connection to the Root. Tehsa slumped down upon the dais in exhaustion. Tam, Master of Diplomatics, stood slowly with hands clasped in front. It was the sign of traditional respect.

  “Categor.” Her voice was firm and rigid, like her demeanor. All in the room stood and bowed their heads in unison. Zyr hardly noted the motions; he was still puzzling over what he had just seen. He had never heard of any Initiate struggling in pain through the ceremony. Just then his gaze caught upon Greil who had for the briefest moment a most peculiar expression on his face. Then the High Master's eyes flickered to Zyr. There was a knowing in that gaze, like the observer of pieces upon a game board. It was most unnerving and Zyr averted his own eyes to another location in the room. The room began to empty with the low buzz of whisperings from the attendants. Zyr chanced a glance back at Greil who was now making his way through the room to the other Masters. Zyr debated what to do at the moment. The spectacle was over and his old biases were setting in like the late tide. He noted the girl upon the dais and the slight shuddering of her form. She was crying silently. Strange workings in his conscience pricked against his mind.

  In the end I turn from her and slip out quickly past the others. The colours begin to swirl my memory. Moving fast … transcending time, another scene - as a door in a multifaceted room - is opened to view. Darkness seeps through a forest glade.

  “Wait, Mihyl!” the young girl called out between gasping breaths. The two youths dashed through the trees, dodging here and there. Tehsa was falling behind the energetic boy. Upon his face was a mischievous grin. Zyr sprinted ahead even faster completely leaving the girl alone in the dark. As she lost sight of her Mihyl, she slowed down to step tentatively through tangled webs of branches. Fear began to show upon her face. “Mihyl! Please … come back …” She slid down against a tree and buried her head into her arms. Small whimpers and sobs were swallowed up by the dark trees which loomed in upon her.

  I forgot about this … Tehsa … please forgive me …

  Zyr looked for a suitable tree to climb in order to get a favorable view of his pathetic charge. She was a thorn in his side since the day she arrived. Useless girl! She was always around him. He had never had a private moment to train in two years. He had just about enough of her. Up ahead he spotted a large tree whose branches would conceal him perfectly in the darkness. Directing his personal store of energy toward his hands, he felt them tingle and shiver under the strain of the mysterious power. In a great leap, he flung his body upward, focusing his energy to his fingertips. His hands grasped the tree, fingers penetrating through the bark. Then slowly, he began to climb, slamming his hands forcefully into sturdy tree, securing handholds as he ascended.

  He had almost made the branch he wanted when he felt a thudding impact near his body. As Zyr attempted to move, he felt his clothes restrained. He let one hand go to feel about his person. A shaft of some sort had pinned his training robes to the oak. He tugged at the arrow (he determined its identity as he felt feathers) but it was to no avail. Zyr prepared to break the shaft and began to focus his thoughts. He was suddenly seized by the leg and hauled off the tree trunk. The initiate landed upon his backside; stunned, he looked at a frightful set of yellow eyes at his feet. His foot was grasped firmly, by some sort of beast! Zyr breathed in quickly and, in a fright, made to strike at the terrible yellow eyes. As his hand moved back, it was caught in a hidden grasp. Grunting and squirming, he was forced to the ground upon his face. A strong pressure rested upon his head.

  So naïve …

  “I don’t know what I’m more offended at,” a quiet voice whispered in his ear, “your defacement of a sacred tree, trying to smite Nisa, or your tormenting of that girl.” Zyr could not move his head and his mouth filled with grass and dirt as he opened to speak.

  “Rhagal, you meddler, release me!” Zyr sputtered out the dirt in his mouth. How he loathed the Wilder. He often interfered in Zyr’s physical training, which was so precious to the young man. What infuriated the student the most was that Rhagal was not an official member of the Order, and thus was not bound by the code of brotherly conduct.

  “Such strong aggression from a fool, and an incapacitated fool at that. Remember my words, young one …” He wrenched upward on Zyr’s arm, producing a cry of pain from the youth. The arm was fully removed from the socket. Suddenly the pressure on his head and limbs was gone. Zyr lifted himself off the ground in a quick thrust from his good arm. Rhagal and his creature were nowhere in sight. Zyr peered into the blackness. All was quiet except for the sound of weeping from farther away. Glancing around, he noticed that the tree no longer bore his finger gouges nor the arrow. He shook his head and growled within himself. Finally, after a pause, he walked slowly toward the direction of the girl.

  How much I wanted to prove myself. It always led to folly … My body moves swiftly away from the dark foliage. Light flashes across the land; all the trees now appear taller and lusher. I fly across a small plain near the forest of the Order. A terrible battle ensues below me. This was a dark day … the blood … so much blood. The day the Order’s third war ended and my own conflict began.

  A blade deflected off of Zyr’s palm as metal would off a stone surface. The grotesque creature twisted and thrashed out again and again. Zyr was on the defence, his hands blocking the blade, but occasionally he would get nicked across the arm where his skin was soft. The creature screamed and bellowed, its rank breath washing over the young Seeker, flecks of spit smattering his bloodied face. Zyr feinted low and leapt up high to head level. His opponent fell for his move, its upper body descending to where Zyr could make contact. Twisting sharply, Zyr’s legs whirled around and slammed into the head of the undead warrior. After both limbs struck in sequence, he landed directly in front of his stunned prey, following up with a knife hand under the chin. His hand sunk deep into the head of the monster. Zyr amplified his strike through sound focus, his voice an emblem for powerful energy, surging through his arm and fingers into the creature’s head. The decapitated torso slumped to the ground as the remains of the head sprayed throughout the area. The Seeker looked around quickly to assess the battle. Four foes lay dead at his feet, and many more lay in the wake of the disciplined ranks of the Order. Yet for all their cunning and sheer skill, the enemy was pressing them back. He looked to his right; Tehsa was swinging her Gé with intensity and utter ferocity. It was like that with her now in battle. She became someone different and he found it unsettling.

  “You okay!” he shouted above the cacophony of pitched battle around them. She turned and flashed him that grin, which meant much more. Not only was she on top of things, she was enjoying herself. He watched as she entangled the Gé around one her attacker’s necks and sent a shocking blast along the metal wires that connected the weighted balls. Her foe toppled twitching and convulsing as t
he remnants of the blast fizzled through the body. He had to admit, she was incredible with that weapon at times. Slowly, over time, she had earned his stubborn respect. She had opted to forgo Zyr’s love of hand-to-hand combat and adopted a weapon that suited her knack for the Categor attunement. Despite their success, however, things were turning for the worst.

  Zyr watched as one of the Masters fell under the swarm of a dozen bone creatures, animated by their relentless Defiler enemy.

  Aragil …

  It seemed a fruitless battle as their opponents were mindless minions of a more dangerous enemy. The call came for the valiant warriors of the Order to fall back to their established defensive position. Zyr finished off a rotting monstrosity with a snap of its neck and dodged his way through to Tehsa. She dispatched her closest foe and nodded her head to him. As they started to make their way back to the stone foundations, gasps were heard from fellow Initiates who moved nearby. Zyr turned to look and his jaw dropped. A gigantic mass of bones was rising up from the ground. It had a strange configuration; it was supported by a massive serpentine vertebra, which flowed into a spiny tail. It had large skinless wings, which spread menacingly above it. The jaw snapped and hissed while within its eye sockets flashed a pale green light. It was unlike anything Zyr had seen.

  It was the broken remains of the Crimson Serpent of Elhil.

  “Let’s move it!” Zyr called out to Tehsa. “We can’t handle that thing!” She appeared to have either ignored him or she was frozen with fear. “Didn’t you hear me, Jyril?” he shouted as he made to grab her arm. This was no time for stupidity. As his hand touched her arm, he jerked it back in reflex. His hand was numb for a moment. He realized that she was preparing a potent weave. He could feel the power swelling within her. Looking into her eyes, he saw clarity not fear.

  Suddenly, an animate swung at them clumsily with a dulled sword. Zyr reached across, disarmed the abomination and impaled it upon its own weapon. He knew he would have to keep them off until she was finished. However, as their allies fell back, more and more enemies swarmed in upon them. It seemed an eternity waiting on Tehsa, and Zyr was tiring fast. Finally she spoke the weaving-words which enabled the power to move.

  Pulsing streaks of white energy flashed from her outstretched hands. A lightning strike jumped from enemy to enemy, struggling in vain to find an arc towards the ground. He watched Tehsa’s concentration upon the jumping lights. She would not allow the deadly bolts to follow their natural course, but they continued to blast through one undead after another and under her direction, the walking-dead were blown apart mercilessly. Finally, she directed her assault upon the massive serpent. All the white-hot energy converged on the terrifying beast as it mauled one Initiate. Whatever tainted energy inhabited the bones screamed out in pain as the bolt danced along the spine and shattered the serpent at the hip. Large pieces of bone blasted from the creature upon all nearby. Zyr had jumped in front of his Jyril to shield her from the onslaught of bone shrapnel. A large fragment impacted upon his arm and embedded itself there. He winced but made no sound. Then, he looked around slowly.

  Tehsa had cleared a significant path through the enemy, but they continued to surge forth from the distant hills. She slumped into his body, visibly weakened from such a potent weaving.

  She always pushed herself too far …

  “Come on!” Zyr shouted as he helped her move from the scene of mutual destruction of the living and dead. As he pulled her away, he heard a wrenching, grinding sound from behind him. He stole a glance as he attempted to quicken her pace. The massive Serpentine was only partially destroyed. Impossibly, it was dragging a portion of its upper body along the ground with an enormous claw. With great sweeping motions the jagged limb fell and clawed the earth, dragging the partial torso and head directly toward the weary youths. “Tehsa! Hurry, please!” It was no use; her feet were dragging through the bloodied earth. Zyr’s arm prevented him from carrying her; the best he could manage was to support her body as they stumbled in vain from the monstrous demon-skeleton.

  Zyr saw the entrance to the forest, where the foundations lay just beyond. They could make it! Everyone else had fled in haste to the rendezvous point. He tried to shut out the crunching and scraping sounds in his ears, growing louder and louder. His mind raced in frenzy. He saw the trees just ahead and felt the ground shake beneath him from the weight of terrifying, bony claws.

  Tehsa screamed out in pain and was wrenched from Zyr’s good arm. Turning in horror he saw that the dragon had impaled Tehsa straight through and now she was pinned down to the ground through her midsection. The pain would be too great for her. Her mouth was fixed open and shock had passed swift across her face only to reform into unconsciousness or oblivion … Zyr knew not which. All time was still before him. Her crumpled form lay motionless upon the ground as the massive head reared for one last brutal assault upon the girl.

  “No!” The boy screamed out in anger. Ripping the bone shard from his arm he wove his remaining power throughout his frame. He was pushing the limits, he knew, but simple reason was far beyond the young man’s mind. His body pulsed and burned with an icy blue aura, the ground around him rippled and seared from the potent energies thrust down upon it. All of the undead warriors turned their heads toward the small form which gleamed intensely, a beacon for all creatures magically attuned. It all happened within an instant. A blinding flash of holy energy - a massive concussive wave - swept the battlefield.

  My body is moving away now, riding the wave of lethal, forbidden power. All the sound of battle grows silent to my mind’s senses. I am moving to a quiet glade. All is darkness. A small light entices me as I trace through the darkness. Two forms huddled together.

  “Tehsa, hold on, damn it!” The boy shouted out in fear and alarm. The front side of his robes were dyed red in her blood. Patches of grass within the glade gleamed in the full moonlight, reflected by the lifeblood of the girl. Desperately, Zyr pushed one hand into the gaping puncture hole coming out her back, while pressing down upon her wounded abdomen. Her eyes were glassy and her breath shallow. She looked up at him, oblivious to any pain. “Do not think of leaving. Do you understand?" The young man looked about in desperation and finally to the heavens. "Please … What should I do?” he shouted out in frustration. With every small breath, warm fluid bathed his hands. He hung his head and whispered low. “I can’t … help you. ... I’m losing you …” He never had felt so powerless. She lifted a cool hand up to his cheek and smiled softly.

  “Mihyl … you mustn’t allow emotion to … don’t forget the first statute …”

  Conquer the body and mind.

  The moon lit upon small streams of emotion coursing down her cheeks. Yet, her eyes were dry. His head hung low, almost upon her bosom as he desperately sought the discipline that served him his whole life. The search only enhanced the rain upon her face. Zyr felt a touch on his shoulder.

  “You have learned to care, fool.” The voice was not harsh or commanding. It was soft and temperate, like the breeze that rustled through the glade.

  “Have you come to mock me, Rhagal?” The boy never moved, but sat holding his dying comrade. He felt a nuzzle against his arm, and his heart calmed upon hearing quiet soothing purrs.

  “I have never assisted any man or woman, regardless of the circumstance. Guardian of Mother is my call, not that of people. However, I have been directed to you specifically … it seems that Mother has heard your plea. Nisa felt the call and led me here. Your friend may yet survive, but you must trust me.” Zyr raised a wearied head towards the solemn Wilder. As usual, his features were all but impossible to divine in the darkness, but he felt the cool gaze and sighed heavily.

  “I’ll never trust you, but … I would give anything now …” Zyr stumbled over his words. His heart had changed and his mind had just come to realize. Rhagal stooped down and lifted the girl easily in his powerful arms and led her to a familiar tree. The sacred Darkwood tree. Rhagal placed her at the foot of the tree and l
ooked at her for a moment. He turned his head slightly and spoke. “You will remove yourself from here for the time being. Not all the secrets of Mother’s servants are for your eyes, Ashori.” Zyr raised himself shakily to his feet, and turned as Nisa’s dark form led him from the glade.

  “This changes nothing between us, Rhagal, but if she survives, I’ll bond myself in a debt service to Mother for payment.” Zyr limped away in exhaustion, as he felt potent energies flow from all living things around him, streaming toward the glade. He never looked back, but uttered a silent oath inside. ‘I’ll never rely on him or anyone else for help again.’

  That day, I left the boy in the glade. My mind’s eyes cannot focus upon the blurred scenes before me. I am moving in and out of time and space. Within my memory I am a specter of thought. All images unite into a bright Blackrill day, upon a tall hill bathed in flowers of every colour. The sun sends its blessings upon two familiar figures that stand together gazing out over the endless range of green. I am moving around them …

  “Zyr, you are an insensitive, callous boor! I ought to …” Tehsa raised her hand as if to gesture a potent blast in his general direction.

  “Tes, I’m sorry. I thought you would want to know. Leaving the Order isn’t an easy decision to make, but I promised my service and …” He was cut off quite soundly by a slap across his face and a stern rebuke.

  “Duty! Promises! You are leaving your only home and abandoning me to what? Servitude to a bunch of insensitive and blind fools who wed themselves to books and a life of fruitless fighting until death comes for them. That isn’t living! You were the only one who ever respected me … who knew me! You can’t leave me here!” She was shaking in rage. He touched his hand to