by Susan Faw
“Cayden.”
Cayden lifted his head in response to Mordecai’s call, meeting his eyes. He was surprised to feel tears welling in his own. He swiped a sleeve across his eyes to disguise their wetness.
“Was she really my mother?” The question burst from his lips, unbidden. Of everything he had seen, everything that had happened, this was the one piercing thought, the one overwhelming need he had…to know the truth.
“Yes,” Mordecai said softly.
Ziona passed a hand across his back in comfort.
“Tell me now. Tell me it all. I want to know the truth. And now, before I have to face everyone below.”
Mordecai sighed. He pulled Cayden over to sit beside him at the base of the wall. Ziona eased herself down beside him, to listen in.
“Seventeen years ago, a Primordial princess fell in love with a handsome young prince of Cathair. Tall, blond, and fair, he sat his stallion with a bearing that commanded attention, as the prince and heir to the throne of Cathair should. This was at the peak of the Daimonic wars, which I am sure you have heard of?”
Cayden nodded his head, still staring at his hands.
“The battles between the kingdom and the Primordial forces at Daimon Ford were long and protracted affairs with heavy raiding occurring back and forth across the river and many casualties on both sides.
“During a break in one of the skirmishes, a raiding party was sent out on a mission to kidnap your mother. They sneaked into the Primordial lands and managed to get right into the sacred capital city of Faylea, a feat accomplished by few. It was a bold but desperate attempt to end the fighting. I think the original plan was to merely hold her for ransom and force the Primordial warriors, who are the fiercest of all fighters, to cease battle and retreat.
“Your father, however, took one look at Gwen when she arrived in Cathair as a prisoner and his heart was lost. Rather than return her to her people, he set about convincing his father that their marriage would be best for the kingdom, arguing that it would unite the lands forever more.
“Obviously, the Primordial peoples were in an uproar over the disappearance of their beloved princess and the battles resumed with an even greater fervour. Many, many lives were lost on both sides in the battles that followed.
“Princess Gwen was never mistreated; in fact, she was pampered and given every consideration and freedom to explore the castle at will, but she was forbidden to leave the grounds. Prince Alexander was often seen escorting her on walks, and as their love grew, so did his demands that they be allowed to marry.
“Alcina, your father’s sister, secretly harboured the ambition to succeed her brother to the throne. Indeed, the laws of Cathair encouraged her in this, as they state that a ruling king or incumbent male heir must be married prior to ascending to the throne or the next closest married female relative to the reigning king would be crowned.
“As Prince Alexander had not shown the remotest interest in any of the eligible young female nobles paraded before him, Alcina had convinced herself that the throne would be hers.
“Gwen’s sudden appearance and the attention lavished by the Cathair prince on the guest captive flared her anger and jealousy. As the next in line to the throne, she was unwilling to see a Primordial princess within reach of the throne. Unbeknownst to the rest of the royal family, she hatched a plan to overthrow the entire royal line, beginning with the murder of her brother.” Mordecai sighed heavily, his mouth drooping; his eyes troubled.
“The king’s death appeared to be the result of natural causes, but I found traces of heart leaf in his salad the night he died. He had supped in his suite that dreadful night, alone. I could never pinpoint who delivered his meal that evening.
“His son, Prince Alexander, had left two days prior on a routine patrol with a group of young men in training to be Kingsmen. He was killed, once again, under suspicious circumstances and never returned.
“You see, your grandfather had agreed to their marriage, just hours before Prince Alexander left on patrol. The wedding was being arranged in secret via pigeon messengers sent between the Primordial chieftains and the king.
“Your father and mother, so very anxious to be together, had begun to see rather more of each other than is proper for the unwed. Gwen became pregnant and attempted to hide her condition from the rest of the royal family, but Alcina discovered the pregnancy. It was then that I realized the royal family was in grave danger, but I had no proof.
“One day, as they strolled through the secluded gardens near the library, Gwen and Alexander were approached by the fairy Aossi who had been sent as a messenger from Alfreda, the Mother Goddess herself and her brother Caerwyn, the Spirit Shield.
“Aossi knew of the plan to kill the royal family and also of Gwen’s pregnancy. She convinced your parents that the only way to save their respective kingdoms and the world was for the godlings, Alfreda and Caerwyn, to be born to humans and walk the world as mortals once more. The catch was that they needed to join with Gwen’s babes as hosts.
“You see, the veil, or the shield between the living and the dead, has been weakening, and the minions of Helga are snatching away the souls at rest, and enslaving them in the netherworld. Helga, as you know, is the ruler of the underworld, banished to rule the souls of the condemned in that torturous place by the gods of old with the blessing of her siblings, Alfreda and Caerwyn.
“Fearing for their lives and for yours and Avery’s by extension, your father and mother agreed to the plan.” Mordecai paused for a moment, checking to make sure that he hadn’t lost Cayden along the way. “There are several things that are required to invoke magic such as was being proposed by Aossi.
“Firstly, you need a wizard’s Will. This is the essence of what makes a wizard’s magic work. Secondly, you need a focus; a tool with which to compact and combine the elements of the spell. I use this stone as my focus.” Mordecai reached into his pocket and pulled the smooth focus stone out to show Cayden. It lay flat and smooth, a pearly sheen coating its surface. “With a focus stone, my wizard’s Will, and your parent’s co-operation, the final element was the soul of a god. With these, we could give human form to the gods. With an archaic incantation not used since the beginning of time, we bound the souls of the immortals to human flesh.”
And suddenly, as though buried beneath an avalanche, a memory floated up out of a crack in his being. Cayden’s eyes glazed over as he fought to remember, to bring the memory to the forefront of his mind…and then it was gone.
“For an instant,” Cayden said, “I remembered…something,” he frowned, “but now it is gone.” He stood up and started to pace.
Tears of frustration glistened in Cayden’s eyes and he did not check them as they slowly made tracks in the dirt on his face.
Mordecai continued the story, politely ignoring Cayden’s distress.
“Your mother summoned me to her chambers, the evening after the news of Prince Alexander’s fall. When I arrived, it was obvious that she was gravely ill by the deathly pallor of her skin. Her overriding concern was for the babies dying inside her as the poison ran its course. She was desperate to save her royal children, who were conceived to bring peace and a flesh bond between the two warring factions of the earth, a united royal family spanning both nations.”
He told Cayden of the magic of the Primordials, how they were attuned to the spirits of the land and the animals that resided in it, of how the mythical creatures of the earth were in tune with the Primordial spirits.
“Your flutes are a conduit of magic that speaks to the spirits of the beasts. The magic you possess calls them and your magic could also act as a trigger for their souls to reincarnate into their mythical form.” Cayden nodded, knowing this from his encounter with the werewolf form of Sheba’s alpha.
“But what you need to understand most of all, Cayden, is that you and Avery volunteered to do all of this.”
Cayden’s head shot up at his words. Ziona leaned in closer, to listen.
&
nbsp; “If Princess Gwen is my mother and Prince Alexander is my father then who are the people who raised me?” Cayden slipped his hand into Ziona’s, seeking comfort. She squeezed his in return.
“The man and woman who raised you, in Sanctuary-by-the-Sea are also your parents, Cayden, in every sense of the word. You are a merging, a blending of both of those babes whose bodies you inhabited. The binding of your godling essence to the physical bodies conceived by your royal parents merged you into a new being. When I triggered the magic that pulled you from your dying infant bodies and into the infants being born in Sanctuary, your mortal and immortal essences merged with those children’s bodies.
“As you know now, being the Seer of Souls, no soul had yet been delivered to those infants, so you delivered your own soul to the host baby waiting for this bonding. You and your sister are truly the children of both parents.”
Mordecai reached over and grasped Cayden’s shoulder in his right hand and squeezed it. “I know you love your parents very much. Surely it is a comfort to know they truly are your parents in every sense of the word?”
Cayden smiled a small smile, the pain of the truth receding from his eyes as he absorbed Mordecai’s words.
“I will show you the ancient texts that are stored in the castle library vaults,” Mordecai said. “But of this there is no doubt. You are the Seer of Souls, the godling that is the caretaker of the souls of the deceased. You willingly divested yourself of your divinity in order to wage this battle, in order to bring unity to creation. But understand this: as you are now human, it also means that you can die. And for you, young Cayden, there is no rebirth. If you die in this form, you are dead, wiped from existence in any form. For you, death is final.”
Cayden shivered. He had suspected that he could die, but not that it would be…forever. Everyone knew about the rebirth of the souls of the dead. It was the basis of their legends.
“What about Avery?” he asked.
“Avery is also a godling. I think you already know who she is.”
Ziona gasped. “Is Avery the Goddess Pinesi, the Goddess of the Woodlands?”
Mordecai nodded. “Yes, that is one of many names used by the Primordial people. She is the goddess of the woodland creatures, the mother goddess of nature and guardian of mythical souls. She is also your sister, Alfreda.”
“Then she is in danger too?” Cayden asked.
“Yes. Yes we must find her and soon.” Mordecai stood up and brushed off his ragged robes, still filthy and torn from his imprisonment. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’d like to find some real clothes and a bath. I haven’t had one of those in, oh…seventeen years I believe?” He trotted off to the stairwell and disappeared.
Cayden reached out to Avery with his mind. Avery, where are you? He received no response.
Chapter 58
IN THE DAYS FOLLOWING THE RECAPTURE OF CATHAIR, Cayden and his new subjects struggled to settle to a new routine. The town swelled with migrants who flocked in from the countryside on the strength of rumour and a chance to glimpse the new king. The scattered Kingsmen slowly trickled back into the city, bringing their families with them, anxious to offer their services even though many were now past their prime fighting days.
Cayden cornered Mordecai early on and pestered him to teach him his family history, and they spent many long days in the squat, stone library, shaped like a flat topped stone turret, in the center of the walled gardens, pouring over the books contained there.
The royal ascent was on everyone’s mind, and both ex-Queen’s Guard and Kingsmen alike joined together to celebrate the coronation of the royal missing heir, King Cayden. A simple ceremony was held in the public square the following day out front of the palace amidst great security. It was at Cayden’s insistence that all people should be allowed to attend. Commoners crowded the square, hung out of windows and perched on rooftops to cheer as the crown was placed on his head. A week of celebration was ordered, and the festivities lasted for the better part of two before life returned to normal.
Denzik, Nelson, and Fabian were reinstated as captains of the Kingsmen and promoted to Captain Generals. The band was incorporated into the Kingsmen as a new and highly specialized unit, dedicated to service as Cayden’s personal guard and allowed to retain their chosen name. Similar units were formed within the Kingsmen, reflecting regional areas and homes, uniting the scattered former guard into familiar bonded units.
Of Cyrus and Alcina, no trail was found to indicate where they had fled. A frightened maid brought to them in the early hours after the cessation of the battle had led them to a hidden passage behind Queen Alcina’s closet and gave witness that they had fled through it. A large contingent of Kingsmen ducked inside and followed the hidden passage until it emptied into the tunnels under the castle. They searched but could locate no further clues as to the direction they had fled.
A bounty was set of one hundred thousand gold crowns on the head of Alcina and ten thousand gold crowns for Cyrus for their capture and return. A bounty of five hundred gold crowns was set on Darius’s head and Ziona, still furious over Cayden’s kidnapping, matched the bounty from her personal purse doubling the sum, so keen was she to capture the traitor. The Kingsmen searched the woods where the ambush had occurred, to no avail.
Denzik was given the charge to map out the underground tunnel system to prevent exactly the type of unseen ambush attack they had engineered on the castle.
Ryder was awarded a knighthood and as his first duty, commissioned to find more like minded people to expand into a full order of Cathairian knighthood. He set off immediately to search the realm for the bravest and most loyal men and women of all the lands, both human and Primordial. His mandate was to forge a unique peacekeeping force, starting with the knights of Cathair. Once the initial shock of his commission wore off, Ryder begged for a training facility. With a broad grin, Denzik deeded his farm to Ryder. Lower Cathair would soon become known as the home of the Royal Knight’s Guild.
On the second evening after their victory, Cayden took Ziona for a walk through the rose gardens, hand in hand. He stopped at a secluded stone bench and pulled her down beside him. Once seated, he took up her hand, kissing it lightly.
“We need to talk about this bond. What do you want to do about it? Where do you see this—us going? I know I am attracted to you”—Cayden’s ears pinked as his heartbeat quickened—“but how do you feel about us being able to read each other’s minds? I mean, what if you want to, you know, date someone?”
Ziona laughed, and Cayden’s ears reddened even further.
“You do not need to worry about such things,” she said, smoothing his hot cheek with her cool palm, “there is no one here I would consider mate worthy…except for you.” She quirked an eyebrow in his direction, and his thoughts instantly winged back to their first meeting in her tent back during his legion stay. “Why don’t we take it slowly, see what develops? There is much to be done and I need to return to my people and let them know what has transpired here. There is much to be told that the elders need to hear. I fear that the war between our peoples is about to escalate. Who knows what plans Alcina and Cyrus are about to implement?
“One thing is certain, however. Whether as mates or as very deep friends, we are bonded as no other two people have been in the history of this world. In that sense, we are true soulmates, now and forever.”
Epilogue
THE SMELL OF ROTTING EGGS PERMEATED THE AIR as the lava spluttered and splashed over the cracked edges of the pool. The little light shed by the glowing basin was quickly dispersed by shadowy creatures that slithered on the floor of the cavern. The darkness was not threatened by the light, but instead it swallowed the feeble attempt to define the shape of the space.
All of this was lost on the two shivering forms prostrated on the rough stone floor, afraid to lift their faces to gaze on the goddess before them.
“You have crawled here to ask my forgiveness when the stench of your failure has reached my n
ostrils long in advance of your arrival?”
“Great Mistress of the Dark,” Alcina gushed in a rush to be heard, “we hurried all the way to your fortress to bring you the news that the boy has finally revealed himself and we now know which one he is! Surely we can destroy him now if you would loan us the aid of your creatures. We will not fail again.” Alcina hazarded a furtive peak out of the corner of her eye at the ethereal shadow swarmed form before her and then, gasping in fear, pressed her forehead back to the stone floor once again.
“What say you, Cyrus? Is your failure as complete as Alcina’s? What excuse do you bring to try and persuade me that I shouldn’t end your worthless lives right now and feed your souls to my pets here?” The goddess gestured to the mindless, formless milling swarm of minions at her misted feet.
Cyrus stirred and with gaunt face still pressed to the floor, whispered, “Great Mistress, your plan has not yet failed. We know of his weakness now. Our spies report that he will not raise a hand to destroy life, whether that life is for good or for evil. It will be his undoing. He will not be able to stand against our armies or against your greatness. Please lend us the assistance of your servants. I promise when we meet them on the field of battle, none shall remain standing and their souls will serve your glory for all eternity as it is prophesied.”
Silence met his plea and he shivered at the icy touch both he and Alcina felt slide into their minds; as a cold and clammy spectral hand clutched at the heart of their souls’ essence. They involuntarily cried out at the stroking, empty feeling of the soulless. The goddess stripped their minds bare and weighed their souls, examining their intentions. Shivering uncontrollably, their bodies thrashed on the icy surface of the audience chamber. Suddenly, the touch withdrew and they lay panting, dragging in raged breaths as they fought their terror.
