Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  “Is it too late?”

  “No, my queen,” simply answered Samyuehl. He closed his mind and concentrated his thoughts. He gathered them into a whirlwind and hurled them out into the land, performing a feat that only he could do. He was Samyuehl, first of the order of the Blue. His powers of healing were equaled by none save the Mother-Earth.

  Throughout time, the gift had been passed from heir to heir and so the gift was preserved. He was the conduit of life for his land and his people. His powers were created and joined from that life. He drank it in and formed it within him. He guided it through his center outward.

  A ray of light radiated from him onto Valam and Evgej. It encompassed them and soothed them. The color returned to their limp bodies. Their many lacerations and bruises began to mend as their spilled blood returned to its proper place within them.

  The light intensified and the wounds were gone. Their lives were restored. All was as it should be. Tsandra stopped resisting Seth and faced her mistake. Her great devotion to the queen had led her from the true path. She would never allow herself to make such a mistake again. She would re-earn the respect of her followers, and she would regain the wisdom of her position. She would carry this incident within her as a banner against those who were the true enemies of her kind.

  Valam was the first to open his eyes. He rested his eyes on the Queen-Mother and smiled. Slowly his lips moved, though no sound escaped them. Several times, they formed these words, “I am sorry, my love.” His eyes closed as his lips ceased to move.

  Evgej eased to a sitting position and shook his head warily from side to side. When his vision cleared, he stood and turned to Valam to help him up. In one beat of his heart, his mouth fell open in shock and he picked Valam up in his arms and cradled him closely.

  “Oh, no, no!” he yelled, “Oh please, someone help him.” He looked first to Seth and upon seeing the sorrow in his eyes then turned pleading to the Queen-Mother. Reflected in her eyes was the solemn harsh truth. Evgej crumpled sadly to the ground. After a long period of lament, he released Valam’s body. He stood and with his eyes downcast marched angrily from the square.

  Seth wanted to stop Evgej and console him, telling him Valam would be happier now, more than he could ever have been here in this existence, yet he could not and did not try to comfort him. Seth hoped that through time Evgej would grow to understand that when it is truly your time you have no choice but to transpire, for it is the Father’s wish.

  As Seth thought about the new life Valam would find with the Father, old thoughts returned to his mind, thoughts he had thought were long gone; the guilt still remained within him. He thought of a face, bringing a tear to his eye. In the twisting of a fleeting moment he was both elated and sad, angry and glad. He hoped the Father had found special places for the two who were so dear in his heart, and somewhere in the reaches of his mind he knew that they had.

  Seth suddenly realized Tsandra had left his side. He scanned the courtyard and spotted her retreating form. He turned to the Queen-Mother and before he could think of what to say, she whispered into his mind, “Yes, go and talk with her. She will need your strength.”

  Seth hastily departed. He found Tsandra a short while later in her quarters. She did not look surprised when he entered. She had known he would try to stop her from doing what she had already set in motion.

  Seth searched his heart for the correct words to say to Tsandra. It was from the depths of his soul that he began. His words echoed the teachings they both knew so well. The entire time he retold Tsandra the teachings of one’s passage through existence, in his mind he returned to the pretenses of his youth.

  “Brother, what are the basic premises of life we must follow?”

  “Not to interfere with its progression. We can guide, but we cannot hinder its natural path.”

  “Yes, brother, as in all things we must return to the basic laws of life. What is the first law of life?”

  “To preserve what Mother-Earth has created.”

  “Yes, but you have grown beyond the simple teachings. Define preservation.”

  “It is to allow life to continue along the path that it must follow from one existence to the next.”

  “Which leads us to the second law of life.”

  “Yes, teacher. The second law does allow us to give guidance.”

  “Think not with your mind, brother, think with your soul, wherein lies the will of the Father. Where must one create the border between guidance and interference?”

  “When you know it in your heart to be wrong, it is wrong.”

  “Yes, you are learning well.”

  Seth returned from his reverie within himself. The words he found were somehow disturbing to him, for they were not what he really wanted to tell Tsandra. Learning from his very words, Seth knew that what he said was wrong. Tsandra was not the one who needed to gain insight on the lessons of life; he was the one.

  “Tsandra, I am—” Seth stopped mid-sentence and the remainder of what he was going to say was lost to him. Unconsciously, he took her hand and held it tightly between both of his. As he did, he remembered a solemn pledge he had given that he had long since discarded. A pledge he had given to himself and for Galan.

  He recalled the advice an old and trusted friend and mentor had given him. Liyan had shown him the foolishness and futility of his action. Seth set about to show Tsandra the same. After he was finished, there was a long pause. They both sat in silence, contemplating thoughts entirely their own, and then without a word they returned to the courtyard.

  When they returned, they found even more people had filed into the yard. Brother Ylad’, Brother Nikol, Brother Ontyv, Brother Samyuehl, and the Queen-Mother were all gathered on the platform. The first impression Seth gleaned from their collective minds was one of puzzlement.

  For a time before they reached the platform, neither Seth nor Tsandra understood the calamity. When they joined the group that surrounded Valam’s body, they understood. Tsandra’s heart fell when she looked upon Valam. She did not understand why the Mother had not reclaimed his body; somehow she felt responsible for what was occurring.

  “Brother Seth, you amongst us know more about man. Do you know why Valam’s body still remains?”

  “I am unsure, my queen. Shall I find Evgej? He will know.”

  “No. He needn’t be disturbed. Brother Liyan is just returning from the docks with Cagan. Go and talk with them.”

  Seth marched briskly to the docks. As he approached, Cagan’s boat was just returning. Cagan tossed Seth a line with a broad grin on his face. Seth secured the line tightly. Liyan and Cagan jumped onto the dock, the expression on their faces that of a child being caught doing something he knows he is not supposed to do. Their smiles were rapidly erased by the overpowering sense of confused emotions rising within Seth.

  Before the question reached Seth’s mind, he responded, “It is Valam. He has passed. It is like a living dream.” Further words escaped Seth. He paused and grasped their hands to form a link between their minds and his; then he replayed the scene for them.

  The expression that crossed their faces told of the grief and shock they were feeling. Seth broke the link, and the vision faded from their thoughts. “What has transpired in our absence, Brother Seth? How can this be? We do not quarrel amongst ourselves. We do not kill our ow—” Brother Liyan stopped suddenly. His eyes grew wide and then he suddenly yelled, “Come quickly, we must find the Queen-Mother. We must find her now, before it is too late.”

  Liyan then shielded his thoughts and whispered into Cagan’s and Seth’s minds what he had felt. Before Seth could shield his mind, he too felt the dark presence sweep by. Instantly he reacted and unleashed all the energy he could gather into a burst of speed as he ran back towards the square.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After they walked for some time without incident, Nijal finally dared to break the silence. He whispered to Vilmos, “Why don’t we just do that illusion thing again and walk back
through the city and get some horses?”

  It took Vilmos a moment to snap out of his reverie and realize the voice had not emanated from his mind. “I don’t know, but that is a good question.” The two broke from their position in the middle of the group and dropped back to talk to Xith, who was taking up the rear position.

  “Yes?” asked Xith quizzically when he saw them slow down so he would catch up to them. “We were wondering, why don’t we just disguise ourselves and go back to the city or somewhere and get horses?”

  “The main reason is that Noman and I fear that it will give away our position and lead the dark forces to us.”

  “But how?”

  “Yes, how?”

  “Shh. Remember back in the caves when I made the passage through the wall?”

  “Yes, but what significance is that?”

  “Noman and I long discussed how they had found us, and the only logical conclusion was the magic he and I used. There was no other way. Vilmos, you should understand. How does one use magic?”

  “You reach back into the power of creation and guide it through your center.”

  “Exactly, but if someone else also understood the workings of magic, they could detect where the energy was being focused, especially since an illusion requires constant guidance and continues for very long periods of time.”

  “But I thought no one else could use magic?”

  “Remember the dark forces that attacked the City of the Sky? Evil like that was created from the wild energies. They are closer to it. That is how they could detect it.” Xith had told a partial lie to Vilmos and Nijal, for which he was sorry. He convinced himself it was for the best, and by saying it aloud, it was also based partially on truth.

  “How did you create the passage through the rocks? Is this not a good time to talk about it?”

  “Oh, it is, all right. I was only lost a second in reflection. What are the two opposing forces in nature?”

  “Positive and negative,” Vilmos answered.

  “Yes, they are the very root of the two forces; the basis for all forms of opposition springs from these two forces. All things in nature contain and are joined by these forces. Some things are truly positive and others are truly negative like raw energy in its pure form. The rock of the wall is no exception to this rule. It, too, contains the energy. To fully understand how the principle works, you must also know that all things are created from the four basic elements: earth, water, fire and air. In all of these four groups, positive and negative exist in equal proportions. In the element earth, the other three elements must also exist to some extent, for it could not exist without its brothers in opposition; thus from the two very basic forms, positive and negative, stem the elements of earth, water, fire, and air. To walk through the stone of the wall, which belongs to the element earth, I relied on those other elements that exist within the stone, the air primarily. I opened the way and guided our friends through it to us.”

  Many expressions passed across Vilmos’ face as comprehension came to him. Nijal’s expression remained one of perplexity. Xith smiled as he watched the two. He hadn’t expected Nijal to grasp the fullness of what he had said, but he had hoped that Vilmos would. He was most pleased with the results; Vilmos understood.

  Vilmos and Nijal returned to their positions in the march, leaving Xith alone at the rear. Noman led them all through the long night. He was very thankful for the overcast skies that enshrouded their movements.

  It was almost dawn when they reached a small town far along the northern road. He knew the farming town well. He had passed through here on many a dark night, ages before.

  He stopped just short of the village and allowed the others to catch up to him. “We shall rest here for a time. Hopefully, we will be able to get horses and leave just short of nightfall. When we reach the inn, allow Xith and me to do all the talking and follow our lead. We are mercenaries heading to the Barrens. Vilmos, it was you who lost our mounts through carelessness. Do not worry. They will see Adrina as our baggage, nothing more. Remember, mercenaries are a loud lot. We must act the part. We will go to our rooms; I will go last. Amir, you will bring Adrina up to the rooms immediately and remain there.”

  They all nodded agreement. Noman closed his eyes and formed a picture in his mind. He wasn’t surprised that the local inn still stood in the same place along the tiny dirt road. They entered, following Noman’s lead of grumbling and complaining about sore feet and the like.

  Noman dumped some coins on the innkeeper’s counter and demanded some rooms for him and his companions. Amir followed Noman’s instructions and went upstairs to the rooms the innkeeper had given them. “And give me four tankards of ale and something to eat—quickly!” said Noman, taking a seat at the nearest table.

  Vilmos had never had ale before. He wondered if he would like it; nonetheless, he was looking forward to trying it. The innkeeper soon brought over four steaming pints. “Nothing like warm ale to put me to sleep!” bellowed Xith. He and Noman toasted and brought the tankards to their lips. “Ahh!” they both said at once, setting down the empty containers.

  “Stew and bread is all I have at this hour,” said the innkeeper as he placed four large bowls of stew and some chunks of bread on the table. No one offered any complaints as they eagerly ate the food. It didn’t matter if it was tasty or not, just as long as it was warm and filling.

  Vilmos was the first to finish eating. He sponged up the remainder in his bowl with some bread and reached for his tankard, only to find it missing. Xith winked at him and slurped the drink down loudly. “You will learn soon, lad,” said Xith, burping and leaving the table.

  Vilmos dejectedly stared into the mug. He was surprised to find it still contained some ale. He smiled broadly and drank it quickly. It had indeed tasted good. A warming sensation swept over him, and he felt sleepy. He decided that he did like ale, very much so. He retired a few minutes after Xith had.

  Nijal and Noman finished their stew and ordered another round of drink. The second glass went down as smoothly as the first had. The two stomped heavily up the stairs slightly before the first lights of morning appeared.

  A chill swept over Vilmos. He awoke cold and frightened. All thoughts of sleep were scattered into the coolness of the air. The dreams had returned again with increased intensity. They ran through all the corridors of his mind. He could not escape their wrath.

  He cradled himself tightly, easing away his inner shivers. He looked around the room. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness before he could see. No one else was in the room with him. He was alone.

  Alone, he confronted the wildness in his mind retrospectively. He closed his eyes and focused on his inner self. He found his center; it could not be denied him. He remembered the lessons Xith had taught him. They seemed like distant memories as he replayed them in his mind.

  He saw the conquest of his self from the two. He saw them through the eyes of another, though they were his own. He saw what he had become, what he was.

  The battle of the City of the Sky exploded through his soul. The vision ended with the fall of the two, first sons of the Father. They had left his dreams. They were only memories. They existed no longer. Once the summation overtook him, his mind became his own. He had succeeded in controlling the power within. It retreated into the recesses of his intellect.

  Vilmos forced his eyes open. As he focused the blurriness away, he thought he saw someone standing before him, a large, hulking figure with a golden locket in his outstretched hand, but when his eyes cleared, there was no one there. He was still alone.

  He wondered what time it was. Was it day or night? He felt as if he had slept forever, so it must be night. “But where is everyone?” he asked himself, standing and looking for a window. He found it and pulled back the curtain. It was pitch-black dark out.

  “Damn, I wish I could see something,” whispered Vilmos. The lamp near his bed blazed alight. He whirled around and stared at it. It had lit by itself. “Strange,” th
ought Vilmos.

  He stood there staring at it, wondering how it had happened. “Off,” he whispered and the lamplight dimmed and was gone. He laughed loudly, darkly, to himself. “On!” The lamp blazed again. He played with it for a time, lighting it, extinguishing it, back and forth.

  Something inside him enjoyed the tiny display of power. Vilmos knew what the something was and forced his mind to quit. It was only then that he came to fully understand how he had subconsciously lit the lamp. He remembered well the skill that Xith had taught him.

  He had unknowingly divided his thoughts. All his concentration had been trained on his dilemma. Lighting the lamp required no concentration, so it required little thought. Now that he understood how he could do it, it didn’t frighten him so much.

  “Wait a minute!” he yelled within. His cogitations were playing tricks on him. As he screamed, all thought came to an abrupt halt. It was then that Vilmos noticed that he had been levitating off the floor because he fell heavily along with all the furniture in the room.

  The crash resounded throughout the room. The door opened quickly and Xith, followed by Amir and Nijal, ran into the room. Amir had his blade drawn and cast his eyes frantically back and forth. “Everything is all right. I just fell out of bed,” said Vilmos rubbing his head. Seeing Xith’s steely stare, Vilmos quickly added, “Yeah, and I hit my head on the corner table and it fell over too. What time is it anyway?”

  “Late afternoon.”

  “Afternoon? Why is it so dark out?”

  “The windows are coaled over.”

  “Oh, why did you let me sleep, if you are all awake?”

  “You ask too many questions. Come on, there is food in the other room.”

  “Great! I am famished.”

  Vilmos wolfed down two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread before he stopped and caught his breath. He washed it down with a large mug of watered ale. “Yuck!” said Vilmos as he emptied the tankard, “More water than ale.” Xith smiled and said, “It is the drink afternoons are made of so one can continue to drink in the evening.” “Oh,” responded Vilmos, pretending to understand, though he really hadn’t.