by D. M. Almond
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Splinters of his soul torn apart, Corbin screamed down into the drowning nothingness as he felt every fiber of his being wrenched forward. He could hear his own screams for miles behind him as the sound trailed his form. Then, as suddenly as he had been moving forward, he stopped. He floated in an ethereal void, alone and weightless, spinning head over heels.
A stabbing pinprick of light flashed into existence, far away in the center of the abyss. Corbin reached out for it, stretching his arms toward it and begging for release. His body was suddenly propelled forward again, surging like a bullet, closing the distance between him and the light, which grew larger and larger with a speed that terrified him.
In another brilliant flash, the void was replaced by a light so overwhelmingly powerful, he had to shield his eyes from its magnificence. All around him was the sound of light dancing through water, not that this made any sense in his mind. Nevertheless there it was, clear as day.
Corbin could feel a great presence in the majestic light of this world. Body floating, he tried to peek between his fingers and see what was there with him.
“YOU KNOW ME.” The light around him pulsed as the words shook the very world in their uttering. This was a great and powerful voice, sounding like shattering glass on his spine.
“Are you... am... I?” he stammered, cowering in fear.
“I. AM. BAETYLUS.”
Corbin’s legs trembled like jelly, dropping him to his knees. He immediately fell prostrate, rocking back and forth in the holy presence of his god.
“YOUR SOUL IS NOT LOST IN THE AFTERLIFE, MY CHILD,” the Great Crystal said, knowing Corbin’s every thought and seeing the man believed he had died somehow during the witch’s ritual.
“Oh….ohhhh, All-Father, I am not worthy to be in your light,” Corbin groaned pitifully, keeping his face firmly pressed to the crystal ground.
“DO NOT THINK SUCH THINGS, MY SON. ALL ARE DESERVING OF BAETYLUS. I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HERE SO THAT WE MAY SPEAK.”
“I am but the humblest of servants, my Lord.” The concept that Baetylus had wanted to speak with him only made Corbin grovel that much deeper. His mind simply could not comprehend what was happening.
“I KNOW. MY CHILD, THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF THAT I DO NOT ALREADY KNOW. BAETYLUS SEES ALL. I WATCHED WHEN YOU WERE A BABE. I WAS THERE WHEN YOU FIRST PICKED UP THE SPEAR. I HEARD YOUR WORDS WHEN YOU WERE IN ANGUISH, WHEN YOU FELL IN LOVE.”
Images flashed around Corbin of himself throughout his life, as a small child, a young boy crying over his mother’s grave, the first time he kissed Elise, filled with elation, all of it thrust upon him by the All-Father’s will, like glass daggers piercing his psyche.
“BAETYLUS IS ALL.” His god’s voice grew to an unbearable booming crescendo with the proclamation.
“Blessed be thy glory,” Corbin chanted instinctively.
“YOU WILL PROVE YOUR FAITH, MY SON.” Another image shot at his mind. It was Logan huddled over Beauford, bloody knife in hand, shouting at the guards to stop.
“YOU MUST STOP YOUR BROTHER. YOUR PEOPLE FACE GRAVE DANGER.”
“What kind of danger, oh Holy One?” Corbin begged for understanding.
More images assaulted him, faster and faster like the strikes of coiled vipers stinging his mind. Bodies lay all over the capitol, the waters of Riverbell filled with blood, maggots crawling out of Elise’s empty eye sockets. Corbin screamed in horror, his mind reeling on the brink of madness, and Baetylus pulled back, lessening his might over the mortal. Corbin lay there gasping for air, drool running down his chin, and the taste of blood filling his mouth from where he had bit into his own lip.
After a few minutes of silence, he was able to stammer out some semblance of speaking again. “Is this our future, oh Mighty Lord from above? Is this what will happen to the people of New Fal?”
“THIS IS BUT ONE PATH. A FUTURE YOU CAN PREVENT FROM COMING TO FRUITION, MY SON. BE BRAVE, FOR I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE BESIDE YOU WHEN YOU NEED ME. YOU MUST BRING YOUR BROTHER BACK TO FAL.”
“I will not fail you, All-Father,” Corbin said, staunchly determined to see his Lord’s will done.
“GO NOW, READY YOURSELF. THIS JOURNEY IS ONLY BEGINNING. WE WILL SPEAK AGAIN, MY SON.”
Corbin had so many questions for his god, his mind raced to grasp just one. He wanted to weep and beg to remain in the All-Father’s light, but it was too late. The world exploded into glass shards all around him, hurling his soul into the dark void.
A stinging slap to the cheek opened Corbin’s eyes to see Jayne standing over him holding an empty needle. Behind her, in his fuzzy vision, Lady Cassandra was covering her old, tired body with a dark green cloak. In the distance, still echoing through his mind, the ill omen Baetylus had given rang over and over.
“Settle down now, friend,” Jayne said. “The dizziness will pass soon enough.”
Lady Cassandra joined her and gently pushed Corbin back to the floor as he weakly struggled to rise.
“The All-Father...,” he babbled.
Lady Cassandra perked up, hearing the Crystal god’s name. “Corbin, did the All-Father speak to you?” her voice whispered in his mind.
“What...?”
“Corbin, dear, can you understand me?” Again, the words moved through his mind.
“Yes... but—”
“Not with your words, boy, use your thoughts,” she instructed.
“How can you hear my thoughts?” he tested the concept.
“This is my gift to you, Corbin Walker. The power within has been unlocked,” she graciously answered.
“But how…?”
“Corbin, dear, please try to remain focused,” Cassandra said. “Now pay close attention to what I’m about to say, we haven’t much time. Did the All-Father actually speak with you?” She brought her psyche on a little more forcefully, attempting to stabilize the young man’s quivering thoughts.
“Yes,” Corbin thought. “He did, the All-Father reached out to me.”
“Tell me everything,” she demanded.
“New Fal is under great danger if Logan does not come back and face trial.”
“I suspected as much. Show me,” Lady Cassandra said.
“I do not understand, milady.”
“Let yourself fall back into the memory. Do not try to explain it…just think through what you experienced and I will see it unfold.” His ignorance served as a reminder that mages could study for decades before unlocking abilities such as these, which she had so freely given him.
Corbin tried to picture his encounter with the great god, Baetylus. As he thought over the miracle, it was as if Lady Cassandra were sitting there with him, watching actors on a distant stage play out a drama.
“Ah, I see it already, you are a natural, not that I had any doubt of your potential. Still, though, it is impressive that you are handling telepathy so easily,” she complimented while the vision of Baetylus’ conversation with Corbin came to its end.
“Is that what I should call this miraculous gift you have bestowed upon me?” he asked.
In her response, a flood of images washed over Corbin, not as brutal as when the All-Father had shown him the future, but more like a river of time cascading over the rocks of his being.
Lady Cassandra was a Psionicist from the ancient Order of Second Sight. Long had she studied in the mystical arts, learning to access the very energy flowing through their universe, and today she had awakened a piece of Corbin that had lain dormant in mankind for over two centuries.
Through psionic magic, he would be able to look inside the minds of those he encountered. Since the wildlands were filled with many men and women who truly belonged there, along with innocents who had been unjustly persecuted, as well as a myriad of dangerous denizens stalking for their next meal in the shadows, the longer Logan was out there on his own, the more likely he would come to an untimely end. In the great expanse of Vanidriell, Corbin would truly benefit fr
om this gift, being able to scan the land to find sentient life. This would give him the advantage he sorely needed to survive and track down his brother safely.
Sounds began bleeding in through their connection from around the room. He could hear Jayne’s thoughts in the background, which were whimsical and warm. Downstairs a man was scrubbing the dishes, dwelling on an argument he’d had with his son that morning.
Corbin clutched his ears, futilely trying to block out the overwhelming noises, and Lady Cassandra waved her apprentice over. Jayne placed a small, smooth metal cuff around the back of his right earlobe, which immediately muffled the whispers, leaving behind nothing more than a dull ache in his temples.
“This Svalin will help you adjust to your new sixth sense,” Lady Cassandra said while Jayne busied herself checking his eyes for dilation with a candle. “We used it in Acadia to wean the novice into their newfound skills. It is made from a special substance that helps block out any unbidden channeling of psychic aether. Remove it only while you sleep. The human body is an amazing tool; it will help you slowly adapt so you can control when and where you use telepathy.”
Now that his body felt like it was back under his control, Corbin tried to stand up. “Milady, I am but a humble hunter from Riverbell. I am not worthy of these gifts, but I do thank you for them,” he said with a slight bow of his head.
“Young man, the All-Father himself came to me in a vision, instructing me to awaken your potential. Who can judge you more worthy then He?”
Corbin was speechless.
“Now then, there is much to teach you in a very short time.”
