The Bearer of Secrets (Dark Legacy)

by Kyle Belote

  “My mother didn’t know she carried twins at first, but when she found out, she was ready to name a boy and a girl. When my brother came out, she named him Josiah; and when I came, well, let’s just say I would have had a real pretty name.”

  Julie couldn’t help but smile, finding humor in the thought of Judas’ mother expected a girl. Meristal’s face flickered in her mind’s eye. “Does Madam Raviils have any children?”

  Judas paused. “She had a son. The child died shortly after birth. Tragic … a sad day for her.”

  Julie, baffled by the response, once again wished she hadn’t spoken at all. Only death and destruction seemed to follow Judas and Meristal. Nothing good came out of their lives, losing family and loved ones but surviving the Wizard’s War.

  Once, she sensed a connection between them, an unspoken romance or untold love interest. Now, she knew that chemistry came as a bond the two shared alone–the bond of knowing the other lost a child. It was heart cringing. With the painful revelation, Julie kept her distance, holding sympathies and words to herself.

  Night fell not an hour after Judas’ sad tale, coming early to the dense swamps. They made camp just shy of their destination. Judas wanted a good night’s sleep before melding minds with them. They struck out early the next morning having a light vegetable soup for breakfast. A few hours later they came to the outskirts of the saricrocian’s lair.

  “We are about to enter the Nest.” Judas proclaimed.

  “Nest?”

  “Think of it as our Council back at Ralloc, but only three Overseers instead of seven.”

  Mosquitoes and flies buzzed around them as sweat poured from their bodies. By now, Julie could detect her body odor through the dried, fetid water on her clothes. What she wouldn’t give for a bath. They sloshed through stagnant water, and mud puddles of various depths, tripping over thick tangles of roots and vines.

  Julie acquired a bone-weary fatigue from their trek while their silence relented intermittently. Judas kept up his lack of engagement since the day before, but Julie couldn’t discern the cause, her anger or the wounded past she bled anew? Whichever, it made matters worse.

  Guilt riddled her for asking about his child and hoped he didn’t think unkindly of her for doing so. Their relationship shifted once again. In some ways, she imagined herself secure and safe. Other times, she suspected him holding back, afraid to get too close. After the Corridor of Cruelty, everything changed.

  The nagging feeling that her destiny fell along a different path was not far from her mind. With each day slipping by, it seemed more evident, but achieving such ends daunted her. The choice to accept Judas as her master wasn’t a choice at all, but a decision thrust upon her.

  “We are in the Nest now and soon will be at the center,” Judas broke into her musings.

  Sweat poured from her brow and down her neck, soaking her loose-fitting robes with the salty, stagnant water. How long had they been traveling? She kept plunging one foot in front of the other, the sludge clumping now.

  “These saricrocians are old. Their time to die will come soon.”

  “How do you know they will die soon?” Julie scratched her forehead at the stinging bite of a mosquito.

  “They are old, wise, and enormous.” Judas paused long enough to look back at her.

  “Just what I wanted to hear,” she whispered sarcastically.

  “There is nothing to fear, but be mindful, they can sense it. Fear drives them into a frenzy; that’s how they hunt, by the conscious and subconscious fears of others. Try not to talk or scream; our vocals hurt their ears.” He took a few more steps and then decided to expound on his instructions. “Try not to think about anything. These Ancients have powerful abilities to read minds. Focus on your robes, or the ground, anything but what you want to think about. Above all, don’t stare. They are black and red, a distinctive marking of age, very different to the usual earth tones of the younger populace. It would be taken as an insult to gawk at them.” He hesitated and gave her a small smile. “I think I covered everything. Don’t talk, don’t think, don’t stare, don’t be afraid. Don’t do anything at all.”

  “Ha, ha, you’re funny,” she muttered.

  “If they speak to you, answer them,” Judas warned.

  “Got it, don’t talk unless spoken to.”

  All too soon, the clumping mire gave way to soil crowned in golden-brown pine needles that crunched softly underfoot. The trees grew denser with roots twisting and arching above the soft soil, a far more treacherous footing for her and the aging warlock than before. A deep rustling sound of breathing echoed ominously through the faint mist, but she didn’t glimpse the promised red-and-black beasts.

  Judas led with a steadfast pace, passing over a hill and descending back down into a large bowl-shaped depression. Inside the depression lay three saricrocians bigger than Julie imagined. She quickly tried to clamp down on her recognition, a near-impossible feat. They were like houses–long, wide and tall, all lying together in a semicircle.

  Their various hued eyes glowed, focused on her and Judas as they drew near. Julie hastily sized up the glowing orbs. One eye rivaled her size if she curled into a fetal position. She sensed the weight of their gazes. Curling up didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  No fear, she thought, clamping down on her reeling mind.

  Judas laid an affectionate hand on her shoulder before he spoke with his mind. Julie didn’t comprehend the exact reason. Support or to privy her to the exchange?

  Greetings, majestic beings, Judas thought. I am Warlock Lakayre, and this is my apprentice, Julie.

  We are aware of you, warlock. You hold no interest for us and have been among our kind before, the Ancient in the center thought-spoke. You are always, of course, welcome; but you bring us someone new to the meld.

  She is too young, Judas rallied to protect her. She hasn’t been training long; it might cause more harm than good.

  She is of your height; she must be nearing the age of adulthood. She should be able to handle the meld, the Ancient to the left thought.

  She is different–special, from the Other Side, Judas tried to brush aside their obsession.

  Three gigantic mouths opened, hissing and revealing massive teeth, longer than Julie’s leg. Their eyes flickered between the wizardkind.

  The Other Side? How is that possible? All who cross die. It must have taken you time to get here.

  Curious that she has not expired.

  She is a Wcic, and it is by a miracle that she has survived, Judas thought back to them. Surely, you don’t want to be responsible for killing such a splendid, beautiful, and rare being. Like I said before, she is special.

  Julie looked at Judas and couldn’t restrain her shock at his words. Did he really think that about her or did he fib to protect her? What was the meld, and what would it do to her?

  She thinks a lot, the Ancient in the center thought. I like her perception. She is calculating, and shocked by your evaluation of her; this is evident in her face. Do you see it, too?

  To this, Judas said nothing. The old reptile continued, She has many feelings for you. We can hear them, even as she tries to clamp down and bury them from us, from you. But there are other feelings lurking beneath. Anger. Fear. Hatred?

  Yes, the left one concurred. She is strong with passion, desire. There is something odd about her. Can you feel it? It’s in her mind, in the scent of her blood. She is different.

  Yes, Judas interjected. She is different, special like I said.

  No, she is something … more, the reptile in the middle spoke. Something I have not appraised in a long time, not since–

  A Nephiliam, the Ancient to the right spoke up for the first time.

  Yes, the Nephiliam …the one on the left concurred.

  Majestic beings, Judas began, with respect, it is impossible for her to be a Nephiliam. They have been extinct for a long time, almost since the beginning of magic. There is no way you could–

  What? the cente
r one challenged. His head shifted closer to Judas. You think we have made a mistake? We are never mistaken! Our lives are long, yet our memories are longer, passed down through the generations.

  The meld allowed the saricrocians to pass memories to one another, a race with few secrets from each other. The fairies were the only other race with this ability.

  Even if we weren’t alive when the Nephiliam’s light extinguished, we would distinguish by the meld. Any saricrocian would recollect by a mere whiff. The odd thing is how a Nephiliam survived. And to be so young…

  Hello? Julie interjected, unable to bear it any longer. I am still here, and I would like it if you wouldn’t talk like I wasn’t!

  The Ancients mouths opened again, the hiss sharp and much louder than before. All shifted, the ground vibrated beneath her feet. She took an involuntary step back, but Judas’ hand kept her rooted.

  Her master gave her a hard glance before scolding her. You do not speak unless you are spoken to, apprentice. He turned back to the Ancients. Please, forgive her transgression. She is unfamiliar with your ways and customs.

  Exclude her, the creature from the right commanded.

  Judas let go of her shoulder and stepped forward, leaving Julie blocked from the rest of the communication. Julie looked at the back of Judas’ head, fuming. She stared intently, failing to realize the Ancients scrutinized her in return. She smiled weakly, embarrassed that they caught her. They turned back to their silent conversation.

  Left to the whims of her mind, Julie turned her back on the proceedings. Whatever business he conducted, she didn’t have any inkling. Judas did not share secrets. For a time, she wondered what they spoke about, but the futility of such speculation bored her. Though they had yet to broach the subject overmuch, she tried to bury the emotional turmoil in the wake of Mr. Pleasure. She hadn’t forgotten, probably never would, but more she focused on it, the angrier she became.

  Her essence always came to her in moments of heightened emotions. Judas told her not to rely on feelings alone. Waiting in the humidity and silence, she sat down a dozen paces behind Judas and tried to meditate, search for the elusive magic. She folded her legs under her. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed her posture, the tension melting out of her taut shoulders. Julie visualized the strain fading away, leaving her body in a wispy vapor, seeping from her spine, through her legs and into the earth below.

  She felt it.

  A small, almost tingling sensation, thrummed through her body, rhythmic like a cat’s purr. It tickled like a whispered breath on the nape of her neck, envisioning the heat rather than feeling it. She followed the fragile wisps inward, visualizing the journey. When she drew in as far as she could, then, slowly let herself drift out into the earth below her, the trees around her, and into the air. An outer body sensation pervaded her consciousness.

  As she let her presence drift, a small but calmly persistent tugging drew her focus, carrying her away from her body.

  A fire flickered before her, radiant flame and warmth caressed her face. Darkness swaddled the edges of her vision. A book with strange glyphs ensconced in her lap; the edges faintly abraded with the passage of time. She had seen this book before. It belonged to Judas. The symmetry of each stroke gave off an elegant beauty. With the trace of her finger, she marveled at its refinement.

  Serpentine whispers of an alien language tickled Julie’s ears, resonating all around her, but soft, like a delicate breeze. The whisper, neither threatening nor frightening, conveyed warmth, inviting, seductive. The unfamiliar words grew acute, steadfast. Her eyes turned down to the book, realizing the words came from within.

  “Your wand, your words can release us … We will tell you everything. You are the Bearer of the Secrets of past, present, and future….Give your name to us. Become one…”

  Her wand manifested in her hand, the sensation swelled. The calling was captivating, growing stronger, melting her resolve. She spoke her name to the book.

  “Julie.”

  The book burst open with a burning, pure light, pouring out and carrying her into oblivion.

  “The Bearer of Secrets has been found,” the book sighed, content.

  “Julie!” Judas shouted at her, snapping her out of her trance. The Ancients hissed in pain. His hands clenched her shoulders tightly and the booming voice a saricrocian filled her mind.

  What were you thinking, child?

  Julie stood and bowed her head apologetically. Noting the warlock’s hand still on her shoulder, she spoke. Forgive me for my carelessness. I didn’t mean to interject into your minds.

  The Ancient on the right spoke up again, We couldn’t hear your thoughts, your mind became opaque, quiet to us.

  What were you thinking? the one in the center roared.

  About a book. A book Warlock Lakayre gave me.

  I haven’t given you a book, Judas interjected.

  It was like a memory, yet I know it hasn’t happened, she exclaimed. It seemed so real…

  An audible buzz filled her mind, the saricrocians speaking to each other, too fast and complex for her to make anything out. An ache festered in her head.

  Exclude her, they commanded again.

  A few moments later, Judas bowed unexpectedly and grabbed her by the arm. His tight grip twinge with bearable pain, but she kept silent. Something bothered him. Would he tell her?

  They left, their pace alacritous, and were far from the Nest before he released her or spoke. Julie, timid to violate the silence, could perceive her Master’s agitation and knew it was for her outburst. She waited for her scolding.

  When he did speak, the words were unexpected. “I can’t believe the Ancients!” Judas fumed. “How can they just sit by and do nothing?”

  “Why did you meet with them?”

  Judas stopped and gawked as if he had forgotten she was there. It took him a second to shake it off and get his bearings back. “They refused to aid in the coming war. They said it’s not their war, just like the last one.”

  “They said that?”

  He huffed. “We’ll travel a bit further and camp. Tomorrow we’ll reach Wizard’s Pass.”

  “How much further until we get out of the swamp?”

  “Not much but enough.” He smiled. “I have a friend who would be very interested in meeting you. Come on.”

  Unsure of how to take the comment, she traced his steps, putting distance between them and the Ancients.

  ***

  Chapter 38 : The Abyssians

  A dark, dense fog rolled out of the Abyss, invading the world of the living, a world of shapes and color. A quiet miasma coiled out of the nothing, a world of void and spread like a seeping poison into Ermaeyth. The murkiness billowed like the dense black smoke of burning oil, condensing into a vaporous fog, rolling over everything in sight. To the east it slithered with deliberate haste, driven by a sentience not their own. From within, the sound of a sinister laugh echoed the closer Gryzlaud drew.

  This fog carried the will of death itself.

  The miasma’s presence, a violation of the world itself, was set to purpose, driven by a twisted and malevolent spirit, one much like their own. The soul promised the Abyssians, sentients without physical form, the ability to take shape, and become masters of their own bodies. Languishing without the meaning of time, with no regard to what lay outside their realm, ignorant of the world above waiting to be conquered, they stirred for these words. When the invading anima breached their sanctuary, they became aware. With a new found knowledge, a bargain was struck, promises made. They left their home for the first time in the service of a Dark Lord. They held up their part of the deal; now Xilor would uphold his.

  The black cloud rolled over the manse, a palace of malice, through walls and doors like it was air. Inside the walls the cloud expanded, exploring its’ destination with curiosity and compulsive intent, like a hound running down a wounded animal. The cloud boiled and billowed with frenzy, searching each hall, room, and crevice. Curiosity satisfied, the obs
cured vapor retreated, plunging downward towards the mirror in the bowels of the palace. Like phantom pains from missing limbs, the spirit and consciousness called to each other, a bond growing stronger the closer the miasma drew to the mirror. With caution, the darkness entered the room, circling the mirror.

  “We have come, traveling from the deep,” the voice slithered out, an oily hiss, slow and ponderous. Each word spoken sounded like an inhale, a deliberate pause between every few words. “Fulfill your promise, High One.”

  “How can I fulfill my oath if you still hold my soul?” the eyes said, mocking him.

  “Keep your word or it will remain with us, High One.”

  “Do not taunt me, Vlukus; it would be unfortunate to travel all this way just to die. I will hold up my end of the bargain, but I must become one first. Then my full powers will be restored.”

  “You never told us this in the Abyss.”

  “Know this Vlukus,” Xilor hissed. “If you do not give what I want willingly, I will take by force and destroy you. I am a man of my word and reward loyalty. You return my soul, and I will give you physical form.”

  He could feel his spirit fighting to be free. The agitation palpable. He nearly felt whole, complete.

  “Bring forth my soul, Vlukus, and let us be done with it.”

  ***

  Chapter 39 : The Bearer Of Secrets

  The night grew much cooler than Julie expected. As soon as the last of the sunlight washed away, the swamp’s temperature dropped dramatically, defusing the heavy humidity. The rotting wood and decaying smells of stagnant water faded with the fading rays.

  Judas started a fire and Julie caught snippets of his mutterings about stubborn saricrocians. His emotions were betrayed by the gruffness he used tossing wood into the fire and his curt words. After the fire had taken, he laid down on his pack, keeping to himself.

  Julie, knowing it foolish to assume all the blame, still bore responsibility for the change between them. She brought up the subject of Judas’ and Meristal’s dead children. Since then, Judas remained uncharacteristically quiet, almost distant.