Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  He could see the pain clearly etched on her face. His heart pounded rapidly as he was drawn to watch. He could not take his eyes off her face. He felt complete sympathy for her, utter empathy if that were possible. In that moment he longed for the Delinna Alder he had once known and in that moment he envied no man more than Father Francis. For Father Francis had shared with her a closeness which was denied to him, a oneness which he would never know again. His heart felt the wound of old as raw as it ever was.

  As he watched, the image of Catrin appeared near Midori. Catrin quickly knelt beside her friend. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “I have failed you,” she whispered. The low sound seemed to cut into the silence and echoed throughout the square.

  The image faded again. Now, the two sat across from each other, hands joined once more. Without a sound, they rose and walked towards the captain. The three then departed the square, each thinking different thoughts as they did so. Captain Brodst was eager to return to the palace to interrogate the enemy leader, Lord Konstantin. Other thoughts tempted his mind. They flowed through and permeated his conscious. He would willingly greet this war as a chance to prove his military prowess and the strength of the kingdom, yet at the same time he regretted its coming to the fore, the countless unnecessary deaths of the innocent caught in the struggle for power.

  Sister Catrin thought about the trial. It had torn her mind asunder and shattered her ego. She had taken the wrong path. She had chosen herself over the welfare of her companion. She had failed the test.

  Midori looked back with retrospect on her life. She understood how she had become first priestess although her conscience could not accept it. She still saw the impetuous child within her. “Why me? I am not worthy—what of the second, or of the third?” she whispered quietly to herself. “Accept the gift my child. The choice was correctly made,” said a voice echoing in her mind. Midori clearly recognized the voice; it was a voice from her childhood. “Mother!” cried Midori. “Good-bye, my child—” said the voice as it faded.

  A city patrol intercepted the trio on the way to the palace and escorted them the remainder of the trek. Captain Brodst gave the guardsmen a black stare, but accepted their escort. The palace was bustling with activity when they returned. Captain Brodst was wondering if the entire city garrison were inside the palace when Lord Serant approached him.

  “Captain Brodst, it is good you are all safe. Come, Princess Calyin and Father Francis await your arrival in the council room.”

  The two began to speed toward the council chambers with Midori and Catrin closely following. They found Princess Calyin, Father Francis, Chancellor Volnej and Keeper Q’yer seated and waiting for them. Princess Calyin sat at the head of the table, with a vacant place to her right, and Chancellor Volnej seated himself to her immediate left, in the seat of honor reserved for the first adviser. Father Francis was seated to Volnej’s left with Keeper Q’yer directly across from him. Lord Serant took his place to the right of Calyin and the two priestesses took their appropriate places as guests near the opposite end of the table.

  Calyin signaled for the guards to seal the door; then the meeting started. Calyin greeted each of those present in an abrupt manner, cutting quickly to the point of their presence here, which was obvious to those present but must be stated for the record. The hall seemed strangely empty compared to the great meetings she remembered from her youth.

  Captain Brodst nervously searched the hilt of his sword beneath the table, his eyes never leaving the two seats at the head of the table, those reserved for the king and queen. The second head chair had always been placed away from the table as a remembrance of honor. King Andrew had ruled alone since his queen had died. The captain was not pleased to see it placed back at the table. Princess Calyin with Lord Serant in the king’s place now occupied the chair.

  “This is an outrage! How dare you?” shouted Captain Brodst as he jumped up and drew his blade. Lord Serant’s response was immediate; he likewise drew his sword and launched himself at the captain. Calyin was also quick to her feet and placed herself between them. “Stop!” she yelled with all the strength of her voice. “You both will seat yourselves now!” she commanded, her anger lividly displayed on her fiery red face and glaring ice-cold eyes. The two stood defiantly in the face of her fury, which was quite difficult considering Calyin’s persuasive glare, a trait that ran in the family. “Please,” she pleaded. “We will get nowhere like this. The safety and unity of the kingdom are at stake here. We cannot fight among ourselves.”

  “Please!” she begged again.

  Lord Serant held his blade firm. He would not be the first to back down. Hesitantly, Captain Brodst seated himself back at the table, and then Lord Serant did the same. Princess Calyin calmly began, “Captain Brodst, please hear me out. Yes, my lord and husband is seated in the king’s position and I am properly seated to his left. It is for the good of the kingdom that we assume these positions. The one thing we do not need now is division. We need clear unity. I am the next in the royal line and as my husband, Lord Serant will rule by my side. When King Andrew died, the Council of Keepers along with the High Council decided this. It is as it must be until Prince Valam’s return. The Kingdom will stand united!” Calyin spoke those words not only for Captain Brodst’s benefit, but also for all those in the room. Lord Serant had been the only one to come to her aid; the others had remained seated, indifferent or unsure, themselves, what was happening.

  “We do not need civil war within the kingdom itself! We need to wait and watch until we are sure where the conspiracy leads us. We must try to stop it before it gets out of hand. To do that we must show that order, not chaos rules! Together we have a chance!”

  Chapter Eight

  “Ne mozhet byt’! Ehto Brat-Seth i Kapitan-Cagan! Kak ehto?”

  The words flowed into Seth’s mind in the way of the brotherhood. They sounded strangely foreign to him. He had been in the world of men for too long. It took him a moment to re-orient his thoughts; then he understood the meaning of the words.

  Subconsciously he thought back to another time and a far distant place. Pictures of the council of the Great Kingdom filled his mind. It was in this room that he had lost his Galan forever. Now, she was just an image in his mind. He had loved her even though it was against the general rules of the brotherhood. But they could never be together; fate had divided them.

  The elder one ran to Seth and embraced him. It took a moment for Seth to gather his thoughts. He stared deeply into the eyes of his old friend. “Ehto ty?” said Brother Liyan with his mind.

  “Dejstvitel’no v camom dele. Ehto menya, Brat-Liyan,” Seth answered aloud in the words of his kind. He then added in the words of men, “Yes, it is truly I, Brother Liyan!”

  Brother Liyan didn’t understand; why had Seth spoken aloud? Most of the brotherhood spoke with their minds. Only a select few spoke aloud. They were the ones who refused the gifts of the Great-Father. In this way, they sought to increase their suffering in this world. When you spoke aloud it set you apart from everyone; your mind was open and free, revealing the cause of your shame. Liyan dwelled so much on the fact that Seth had spoken aloud he had not even heard Seth’s words, words in the tongue of man.

  “Pochemy?” he started to ask, but Seth stopped him. He searched Seth’s mind for the words, suddenly realizing the thing that had eluded his thoughts. In a moment, he rephrased his question, “What has happened?” yet as he spoke the words, he came to know the answer, and sadness flowed through him. He understood Brother Seth’s wrongdoing. He did not feel pity for him or see his shame.

  “Pupil, you have much to learn of life and living. Come, I know one who will greatly rejoice at your return. You shall bring light at a time of darkness. And hope will be felt by all!” Brother Liyan directed the words only into Seth’s mind.

  Brother Liyan paused a moment to regard the remainder of the group. He extended a hand to his old friend Cagan. “It is good to be home at last!” exclaimed Cagan.
Brother Liyan was not surprised by the fact that Cagan spoke aloud. The captain had freely chosen to speak thus long ago; now it was a sign of the strength of his will.

  Will is in all things. It flows through the land, the plants, and animals. In the very center of your being is your will. The strength of your will defines your place in creation. The stronger your will, the higher place you will occupy when you complete the final journey to the Father.

  The others in the group Liyan did not recognize. They were of the world of men. He studied each in turn. They did not appear much different from his kind. They had a sincerity to them that spoke of inner strength.

  Valam waited a moment for Seth to introduce them. He could clearly see that Seth was lost in other thoughts and understood the reasons. His natural openness compelled him to introduce himself, though he didn’t know if it were proper.

  Seth had explained to him the formalities of introduction of his kind. Although he still didn’t understand which type he should use for which occasion. “I am Prince Valam of the royal order, first heir to the throne of the Great Kingdom, largest of the kingdoms, holder of the alliance,” he said brashly in the tongue of Seth’s people.

  Brother Liyan held back a smile. Valam had spoken the introduction well. He wondered if men could access the power of their will. It was such a natural thing for him; the thought that they couldn’t had never occurred to him before. He shook the idea from his mind and introduced himself. “I am Brother Liyan, wisest of the High Council of the Eastern Reaches, first adviser to the Queen-Mother.”

  As he spoke, Liyan studied the tall brooding prince with his clear, bright eyes. The prince carried with him an artifact of old though Liyan doubted the other knew the true origins of the blade. But the blade was not the source of the prince’s power rather it was an inner strength of character that Liyan could readily sense. The prince was clearly a fair and just man.

  Evgej looked worriedly to Valam. He had only recently begun to learn the other tongue. Valam quickly introduced his friend. “This is Captain Evgej, swordmaster first class, city garrison of Quashan’, capital city of South Province.”

  “Welcome to East Reach,” Liyan said as he acknowledged the fair-haired captain. Noticing the bow and horn Evgej carried in addition to the great sword slung across his back, Liyan marked the man as a hunter and the steady, unflinching eyes said the captain was a man of strength as well.

  Liyan smiled broadly as he turned to study the rest of the prince’s men. “A most intriguing company,” Liyan whispered into Seth’s mind, adding as he turned back to the prince, “Does he know?”

  “I have been teaching him the art of will should—”

  “—Preparing him, yes,” directed Liyan. “You have done well. He has the inner strength required.” Liyan looked the prince up and down, repeated, “Does he know?”

  “He does not,” Seth said aloud.

  Desiring to be polite, Valam and Evgej said nothing of what seemed a rather one-sided conversation. Noticing the prince’s increasing unease, Cagan was quick to direct him to other issues. “River sails,” he said indicating the arrival of the river sloops.

  To Cagan there was nothing more beautiful or graceful in the water than a sloop with her mainsail, single mast and jib sail and he couldn’t take his eyes off the line of ships gliding easily across the waters of the Gildway. A tear came to his eyes. “Home,” he whispered to the wind.

  “How far by ship?” asked Valam. He was eager to depart for Leklorall. The group had spent several days of much needed rest recuperating after the long sea journey. The patrol that had discovered them had left them in the capable hands of the village elders of Marudal—the city of Cagan’s birth. The patrol had departed that same day to bring word to the High Council of the arrival, and when they returned Brother Liyan was with them.

  “This day, a night and a day, no more,” said Cagan as he watched the sloops dock to the river piers. “We’ve to sail north through the Ester and then on to the Clarwater. Leklorall is an island city in the center of the great lake.”

  “Where are her sailors?” asked Valam looking to the closest sloop.

  Cagan grinned knowingly. “A captain and his mate are all that are needed. The ship does most of the sailing on her own. She is grand is she not.”

  “The symbols on the line of the stern?” asked Valam.

  Cagan pointed to each ship in turn and spoke their names. Indicating the ship docked before them, he said, “Maru. She is my favorite. She asks of you.”

  “The ship speaks?” asked Valam incredulously.

  “To me, yes,” said Cagan running his hand along the side of the ship. “The Maru is named after Marudall. It was my father who built her and the blood of my line is within her.”

  Valam started to respond but Evgej clasped a hand to his shoulder and spoke first, “The men await your command. It is time to board the ships and depart, my prince.”

  Valam turned expectantly to Seth. “My men—”

  “—will receive the finest all of East Reach has to offer this night,” Seth said. “On the morrow, the march to Riven End begins where the High Elves and your people will join the Gray—all as we’ve discussed.”

  “And when the second group arrives?”

  “All will be well, my prince,” said Captain Mikhal approaching from the line of men standing at the ready behind the prince. “Tsandra of the Brown has been accommodating at every turn. Our needs are met. The men are in goods spirits and well. The journey has only strengthened their resolve and mine. I will see you in Riven End when it is time.”

  “Riven End then, be well,” said Valam.

  “And you, my prince.”

  Captain Mikhal walked back to the line of men and began issuing orders. Cagan departed to make final preparations. Valam and Evgej turned their attention back to Brother Liyan and Seth. Seth for his part did not hide his excitement. He longed to once more see his home and the Queen-Mother. Brother Liyan had not given him any message from her. He wondered if something were wrong, or if Liyan had come to personally insure he was alive and had really returned.

  His thoughts skipped back again to the council chamber of the kingdom. He had poured his entire being into maintaining the mind link. He had seen the Father coming to bring him to rest beside him. Galan’s pleading cry still echoed through his mind. In the instant the contact was broken he should have passed. Galan though had given herself in his stead and he felt the weight of guilt heavy upon him. Guilt because he lived and breathed and she did not.

  As he boarded the Maru, Cagan swept his gaze up and down the river and beyond to Maru Bay. His great love for the water had been tainted by the storm that had brought them here. All his life he had been a sailor. He had never encountered a storm so severe; he could not outrun her. He had fought desperately to keep control over his ship and had lost.

  The immense power of the storm was self-evident. He had also felt the will of the Father within it. The Father had guided them to this shore. Both he and Seth had felt it, though he did not comprehend why; he knew Seth had.

  Fate rested well with Seth. Twice now, he had survived when he should not have. Slowly he was lost to his thoughts, as they began to sail away. As he often did when troubled, he returned to his early teachings. It was in them he could piece together the things that occurred around him.

  “Always remember, pupil, when your mind is troubled and you cannot find your center, return to that which separates you, distinguishes you from everyone else, your thoughts. For they are truly your own—they are you.”

  Brother Liyan stood on the deck of the Maru alongside Seth. He could see Seth’s distant stare and knew Seth’s mind was troubled. Physically, Seth had changed only slightly in the time he had been gone, but within, Liyan could sense a vast growth. Liyan gently probed Seth’s thoughts. Seth sensed this and invited Liyan into his mind. Seth took Liyan on a tour of the past, and together they relived its many paths.

  Time progressed rapidly in swi
rling images. Liyan saw vividly the Battle of Quashan’. He saw Seth hold the last threads of Galan’s life against the will of the Father, a feat that defied their laws. He saw the great council of the kingdom and then felt sadness fall like an anvil upon him. He saw Galan give all that she was for Seth. With a single selfless act, Galan willingly destroyed everything she was. She utterly ceased to exist.

  Seth’s mind leapt and raced through the times at the palace. His love for Galan was clearly revealed. Liyan understood it. He wanted to tell Seth it was not wrong but could not interrupt the vision.

  He then witnessed how Seth met the brash Evgej during the journey to South Province. Seth stopped the vision with the reunion with Cagan and his sorrowful cry to the Father for his forgiveness; it was then that he discovered the fatal error he made. From that night on, Seth vowed never to speak with his mind again.

  The group stood in silence, the gentle rocking of the ship soothing their senses. Valam studied the countryside in the fading light of the late afternoon. An area of low grassy hills filled the view from the coast. In the distance to the North he could see only the expanse of the river. All in all, he saw no apparent difference between here and his home.

  His mood grew from light to dark when he began to think of the purpose of their journey. They came in answer to a plea by the Queen-Mother of East Reach. The peaceful times of the past would soon be replaced with the ravages of war.

  He had never doubted the urgency of the situation; through Seth, he had come to understand what was taking place. Sathar had returned from the dark journey, beginning the ancient prophecy that marked the ending of everything they knew. There were many, though, who did doubt. They opposed the sending of soldiers to these distant shores. The Battle of Quashan’ they said was proof that there was greater need in the kingdoms than in the reaches.