Ascension (War of the Seraphs): Book One

Home > Other > Ascension (War of the Seraphs): Book One > Page 7
Ascension (War of the Seraphs): Book One Page 7

by Dan Bilodeau


  “You said something about being my guide?”

  “Yes, you don’t think I’ve been hanging out in Quork all these years for the witty banter, do you? I’ve been watching you for some time, young Dalziel. I was actually on my way to see the eastern coast when I happened to find you in a field ten years ago."

  “I remember that. You said you were just passing through and offered me a sweet treat.” Dal thought back to that moment.

  When the man approached him, Dal had just skinned his knee. He was crying. Although his parents had told him not to speak to strangers, something about this man made Dal trust him.

  “What’s the matter, lad?” the kindly man asked.

  Amidst his tears, Dal related how he had hurt his knee jumping down from a fence.

  “There, there,” the man said, reaching inside his pocket and producing a piece of candy. “I believe this will fix what ails you.” Dal eagerly reached for it, but the man withdrew his hand. “But first things first, my boy. What’s your name?

  “Dalziel,” he answered.

  “Dalziel. What a fine name. I am Hadrian. Now that we are no longer strangers, Dalziel, I am very pleased to meet you.” He held out the candy in front of Dal, which he snatched and ate. The man chuckled. “Slow down, lad, or you’ll give yourself a tummy ache.” The old man had been right on both accounts; the pain in his knee subsided, soon to be replaced by stomach cramps.

  Dal's reminiscence ended and he forced a smile, fondly remembering that day, despite the stomach ache. “Did you know I was going to be a Druid back then?”

  “That I did. I’d been following a strong source of Dio’s power for some time. I thought it might possibly be a stone, although that was a foolish fantasy. I knew I wasn’t a Seraph. But I had to find the source. It ended up leading me to a seven-year-old boy.” Hadrian gave Dal a pat on the shoulder. “Imagine that.”

  “Hade, I don’t want you to get mad, but I’ve never felt anything from you.”

  “Sometimes it works that way, especially when there are huge age disparities. People who have magic in them, and who are around the same age, are drawn to one another, whether they know it or not. Think about it, have you found yourself in relationships with people for no particular reason?”

  “I don’t think so. But I don’t have many friends either, just Pad and Curran.”He was about to amend his statement to include Deidre, but a crazy thought stopped him. “Are you saying that Pad and Curran could be Druids too?”

  “Could be? Will be, is more like it. When you three are together, the aura is so strong, I’ve been meaning to whisk the three of you away for some time now. I must say, three Druids from the same village is remarkable, especially when each is capable of strong magic.” Hadrian shook his head.

  “Whisk us away? To where?”

  “The Order of Druids. We call ourselves The Brotherhood. Sorry, we’re not an imaginative bunch. We keep a strong presence in the north, but send brothers to all parts of Ibernia.”

  “To do what?”

  “Whatever needs to be done. Despite the rumors about us, our main purpose isn’t to conjure up things out of the air. It’s to maintain our history and to pass it down from generation to generation.” A sad look crept over Hadrian’s face. “Since books are banned, we’re mostly left with our orations.” He stared off into the distance.

  Dal thought about Soren. Grief seized his stomach, then just as quickly the pain went away and he relaxed. He took a deep breath, invigorated, and felt at peace with himself.

  “What did you do to me?” He glared at Hadrian

  “Hmmm? You noticed, did you? I used spirit on you to calm your nerves. As I said, now is not the time for mourning.”

  “Don’t manipulate me!” Dal yelled, as a fireball formed inside a fist he made to shake at Hadrian.

  “Very impressive, Dalziel. You broke through my spirit weave. While your temper makes you reckless, it appears that anger is the path to your power for the time being. We’ll have to fix that. Anger is a powerful tool, but it is unreliable. The human heart is full of emotions. If you rely on anger, you will find yourself helpless in certain situations.”

  Dal unclenched his fist. The fireball fizzled out, and he collapsed to the ground. His arms felt as if they were made of lead and his legs of jelly. “Wh…what did you do this time, you old coot?”

  “Nothing at all. You did it yourself. While Dio supplies the magic, we are what generates it. In the case of deep magic, it comes from within each of us. But when we use magic, it saps our strength. Although you are strong, it will take some time for you to build up tolerance. You used a great deal of magic the other day. Your body needs adequate time to recover, and this is why even the minimal use of magic, so soon after what you experienced, has exhausted you.”

  “I was invincible. Arrows bounced off me as I cut through those soldiers like they weren’t even there.” Dal flexed his hand.

  “If only that were true, my young friend. A single arrow on a path an inch to the left, and there would have been one less Seraph in the world. Dio gave you armor and the element of fire to wield as you see fit, but no man is divine. We are imperfect and vulnerable. And certainly not invincible. Matioch, who organized the Brotherhood, was a companion and eyewitness to Luan. His records reveal that at least two of the original five Seraphs died in the battle of Meath.”

  “The Battle of Meath?”

  “That was the final confrontation between the Woads and the Ibernians one thousand years ago. The Woads had been winning the war until Luan and his Seraphs became involved. Up until then, the Druids had not seen the elements concentrated in such force. The Woads couldn’t stand up to this and were soon destroyed.”

  “Two Seraphs were lost?”

  “Yes. Catriona, who possessed the Water Stone, was riddled with arrows. Ronan, the Earth Seraph, overused his power and buried himself alive, but he managed to take hundreds of Woads with him.” Hadrian let out a big sigh. “You are indeed a weapon to behold, but you are definitely not invincible. And as you discovered, you will shift back to your normal self when you use too much of the deep magic. According to scriptures, a Seraph can even use so much magic it can destroy itself. Luan supposedly came close a couple times, but he managed to survive. That man was the strongest Druid who ever lived, even more powerful than a Seraph.”

  “In your stories to the children, you often talk about defeating the Woads, but never about what happened to Luan after the battle. And the other surviving Seraphs, where are they now?”

  “Astute questions, my young learner. The answer to both is simple: We have no idea. We cannot find Matioch’s writings from after the battle, if they exist at all. You must understand, there was chaos in those days. The Druids were decimated almost to the point of extinction, and Ibernia was in ruins. Some believe that when the war was over Luan did eventually consume himself in a grand funeral pyre to mark the saving of the world.”

  “I don’t understand. If Luan saved the world, why did we get invaded by the Andals? Shouldn’t we be ruling ourselves?”

  “I believe I’ve answered enough of your questions for now, young Dalziel. Besides, we need to begin your training if you are to defeat the enemy. The Andals will eventually piece together who you are and where you live. If you want to be strong enough to stop them, you will need my help. Praise Dio that you live in such a remote area. It will take them some time. Still, better safe than sorry. Several of my brethren have been contacted and they should be able to protect your mother once we get farther north. Not only that, they should be able to finish the work that I began on your mother.”

  “What did you do to her?”

  “Guess.”

  Dal thought. “You used spirit on her?”

  “Very good. Another point for the farmers.”

  He felt his strength returning, and with it everything else came into focus too: his friends, the Conscription, Soren, his mother. His mother! I have to make sure Ma’s okay. She’s all I have lef
t.

  “I have to make sure Ma is safe,” he yelled to Hadrian as he ran off in the direction of the farm. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Your mother will be fine,” Hadrian hollered back. But Dal needed to make certain she was safe, and he paid him no heed.

  NINE

  Dal arrived home, breathless. He found his mother weeping in her bedroom. “Back so soon?” she asked.

  “Ma, you have to get going. Pack what you can and head for the woods.”

  “I will do no such thing. This is my home, and I won’t leave it.”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You have to go, Ma, and now. The Andals are coming, and they’ll kill you.”

  “Are you saying that the Andals are coming after me because of your crazy story?” She pulled away.

  “There’s nothing crazy about it, except they’re coming for you. Please believe me and do as I’m asking.” He was prepared to physically remove her from the house, and was greatly relieved when she got up and started filling some knapsacks with food and other items to help her survive in the forest.

  Dal was watching her intently when he heard a knock at the door. Dal didn’t think Hadrian could have caught up with him that quickly, then he had the awful thought that it might be Andals. But they wouldn’t have knocked, so he opened the door with less trepidation to find Deidre standing in front of him.

  “I wanted to see how your mother was doing,” she said.

  “She’s getting ready to leave.” He took her by the hands. “You have to get your family away from here also. It’s not safe for anyone who lives near us.”

  “I don’t think I can convince my father to leave. We’ve been here for generations. Farming is all he knows, and he’s old and stubborn as a mule. Plus, Roland could never survive a journey of any length.”

  Dal gripped her arms tightly. “None of that matters. All of you have to leave. The Andals are going to start searching for me, and this means all the farmers in the area will be in danger.”

  “What about the Norens? And Slaig? If you’re positive about this, shouldn’t they be warned too?”

  “There’s no time. We have to get moving. We’ll just have to pray that their farms get overlooked. The Norens don’t have children at home, so the Andals might not bother them. And I can’t imagine their knowing that Slaig and I are friendly, especially since the old man doesn’t seem to like anybody.”

  Dal’s mother was now standing next to him. “Deidre, dear, Dal’s convinced me to leave, and it probably is best if you and your family do the same.” Dal gave his mother a hug, thrilled at what she’d said, even if he wasn’t sure she believed it herself. Deidre now had her arms folded, seeming far from ready to agree to any of their pleas.

  “Deidre is going to warn her father,” Dal said. “And we’ll all meet in three hours at the woods near the stream. Right, Deirdre?” A long pause ensued, then she nodded and left.

  “I hate to leave Soren so soon,” Dal’s mother said as she packed a blanket. “If I canjust--”

  “Soren’s gone, Ma, and we’ll mourn him later. Right now, please finish packing as fast as you can so we can get out of here.”

  They departed the farm, and when they reached the top of the first hill, Dal and his mother looked back at the house, which now appeared small in the distance. He could only imagine how hard this must be on her. But whether or not she ever returned, the Andals would destroy the house, of that he was certain. How sad, all those years of sacrifice, sweat, and toil to be ruined at the hands of barbarians.

  They arrived at the woods by the stream and waited. Deidre was late, but then he spotted a single head coming up an animal path. Dal hadn’t really expected Deidre’s father and Roland to accompany her, and he was correct in his assessment. She dropped her knapsack and her bows and arrows and sat next to them.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “Before you ask, I did everything I could to convince my father. He appreciated your concern for him and Roland, but he said he would die before he’d leave.” She sounded reconciled to his decision, but then she became even more somber. “I went to the market so Roland could stock up on some things, and that’s why I was late. When I was there, I heard some soldiers saying they were going to comb the woods. We all know they’re scared of the forest, but they sounded serious about searching them.”

  “They also don’t like the dark. So if we start walking now, they will never catch up to us by nightfall.”

  His first responsibility was to locate a safe place for his mother to hide, and with enough resources in the immediate area so she could sustain herself for what he assumed would be a few weeks. In an hour they’d come to where he and Hadrian had stopped earlier in the day, but the old man was nowhere to be seen.

  He said to his mother, “I flew over an area--” Her look stopped him. “I should say, I know a place that will take us only another hour to get to, and I think you’ll be safe there.”

  His mother gave a look only a parent can to a child. “I’m probably safer in the woods than you, young man. You don’t remember, but I was a skilled trapper before I met your father, and I brought some traps with me. I also know how to fish and make a fire with just leaves and some twigs. But before you leave me, I need to know what’s going on.”

  “Ma, please, not now. Let me find Hade and then it will all be clear. And, frankly, I don’t know much about what’s happening to me. Only that I found this stone.” He pulled out the red stone, flashed it at her, and crammed it back in his pocket. “It lets me use magic, and Hade’s going to show me how to control it so I can fight the Andals.”

  “And fly through the air. I heard you say that.”

  “I know what I said. It lets me do a lot of things, but we need to go. We can talk about it on the way, if you really must know everything.”

  They walked and Dal talked. His mother said little, and he was of the impression she thought he might be daft. However, as he and Deidre got her settled within a natural alcove that would both hide and protect her, she pulled Dal’s face to her cheek and looked him in the eye.

  “Son,” she said, her voice as strong as her gaze. “What you’ve told me has given me hope. I have never recovered from your father’s death, and I was close to telling Hadrian to dig me a grave right next to Soren’s, now that he’s gone too. While I was walking out to these woods with you and Deidre, I wasn’t thinking of it as a place for me to hide, but as my final resting place. I only came here because you wore me down, not because I believed you. But after you told me everything, I feel different now. I want to live, and I want a future for all of us. Go now, and fulfill your destiny. Make me proud and save our people."

  They said their goodbyes, and Dal and Deidre walked for several miles until the light faded. Dal swore he heard thunder, which wasn’t possible because there was enough light for him to see there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Dio, please don’t let it be another earthquake. That’s the last thing we need right now.

  Walking by the edge of the woods, they had covered a couple of miles when they saw a fire. Dal heard humming he recognized as Hadrian’s doing, and when he came closer he saw the old man roasting a rabbit on a spit. Dal stared. Spread on the ground were the bodies of Andal soldiers. Dal counted six. A few looked as if they'd died by fire. Others had chest wounds but there was no sign of what had caused them.

  The old man quit turning his rabbit and said, “Hello, Dalziel. And the lovely Deidre. How are you two doing? I’m just cooking dinner. Care to join me?”

  Dal walked over and sat on a log across from Hadrian. “Did you kill these men?”

  “Why, yes, I do believe I did.”

  “Surely not here?”

  “No. I heard some noise not far away, and it was being made by these men. Andals are becoming less afraid of the forest, it seems. I’m just happy they still fear the dark.”

  “Why’d you bring the bodies here?”

  “So none of their patrols would have any idea of w
here they died. Can’t give them a place to start looking.”

  “But you killed these men and brought them here. And now you’re just eating dinner in front of the corpses?”

  Hadrian gave him an annoyed look. “I don’t think you are one to judge, my young friend. A few days ago you were burning through soldiers yourself. Or have you forgotten?”

  No, Dal had not forgotten. The thought of the bodies at the square still lingered. He could hear the men screaming in agony as they died in flames. Not the way for anyone to die, even Andals. But fresh visions of Soren with an arrow sticking through his chest made him quickly eschew his sympathy.

  “No, I haven’t forgotten. But I didn’t know I could kill anyone until after it happened.”

  Hadrian spit out some rabbit he was chewing on. “Didn’t know? My boy, let me tell you something, I saw the look in your eyes as you sent those men to their maker. You meant to do it. There’s a killer in all of us, young Dalziel.”

  “And you know that for a fact?” Deidre had left them alone, and Dal was glad she wasn’t listening to this.

  “Yes, I do. We all have the capacity for good and evil. I could be a saint or a monster. It’s up to me. What you have to develop is control. This is something I will teach you. As a Seraph, you must learn to control the killer in you that you currently don’t know you possess, or else you will be consumed by it. I’ve known many Druids who’ve let this happen, and it has been a horrible burden for them until they too died.” A look of pain came across Hadrian’s face.

  “What were these soldiers doing that led you to find them?”

  Hadrian got to his feet. “They were about to kill a man not far from your farm. I think his name was Slaig.” If Hadrian could “see” that far, he was likely aware of everything going on with his mother. Dal wouldn’t have minded some help on that subject, but he was glad that Slaig was saved. He liked the old grump because he stood up to the Andals; the farmers needed more men like him.

 

‹ Prev