Conra stood his ground and gave a disarming smile. “I assure you, we’re not Soul Seekers.” He opened his arms in submission.
The soldiers eyed them for a moment, as if assessing the situation. He grunted and coughed. “This is tricky business. No one goes into the city after dark. However, I can see your friend there is in need of help. We can’t have fellow Kurflinese dying outside our walls, now can we?”
Conra thanked the solider, who in turn grunted and signaled to the guards on the wall to raise the portcullis and open the gates. The guard with the pike didn’t move, his suspicious gaze beating down on Darr while he helped Erec along. Even though he was grateful for the kind soldier, Darr didn’t like the way this country felt.
They passed through the gate and found themselves on the main thoroughfare which ran to the city’s south gate. Ramshackle buildings jammed together stood guard over narrow streets and alleyways. A beast born into captivity, Oasis was oblivious to its own imprisonment.
Conra led them quickly down the street, pushing past groups of revelers from the taverns when he had to and avoiding them when he could. Erec had trouble moving his legs, forcing Darr to carry most of his weight and pull him along. They needed to find an inn soon or he would pass out.
Time dragged on, but eventually, the noise of the taverns fell away and the street opened up into a wide central square. A large, gated mansion sat in the square’s center, heavily guarded and lit by torches. From its appearance alone, it might be home to a king. The entire common area and surrounding establishments were clean and quiet.
“This is the Black Square, the political center of Oasis,” Conra explained. “A Cortazian governor lives under heavy guard in that mansion. He never leaves. The Kurflinese might have accepted the king’s ruling governor, but they don’t abide by his rules. Things are going to get ugly here before too long.” The Elf motioned towards a gathering of lighted buildings on the east side of the square. “We should be able to find an inn here, but I’ll probably spend everything I have on a room. It’ll be worth it though. We’ll be safe and well fed.”
Picking his way across the star lit square, Conra took them towards the closest inn, the Red Wyvern. As the old Elf had promised, the establishment was clean, well maintained and cost a fair amount of coin for a room. Darr thought the amount too much, but he couldn’t complain.
The innkeeper led the way down the inn’s north wing, up a narrow staircase and down another hallway. They struggled in their effort because Erec could no longer hold himself upright. When they reached the end of the hall, the innkeeper unlocked their room and opened the door.
Their room had by far the most grandiose decor Darr had ever seen. Waxed wooden floors gleamed and a fireplace of iron and stone took up most of the left wall. Two doors stood open on the far side of the apartment leading to a bedroom on one side and a private washroom on the other. A pair of glass-paned doors led to a balcony looking out over the Black Square.
Conra hadn’t rented them a room--he’d rented them a palace.
“I figured you all could use a place like this to rest,” the Elf said, scratching his gray head. “There won’t be anyone bothering us here. All we need to do is rest and relax and forget about...whatever it is out there.”
Darr wheeled on him. “This is too much, Conra. We don’t need all this. It’s probably not too late to switch rooms.”
Conra put up his hands and shook his head. “Go on, enjoy it. What’s life without a little indulgence now and then. It might be good to have a memory of this place when we’re stuck out in the cold somewhere.”
Darr stared in confusion. “You mean, when we’re stuck out in the cold--Jinn, and Erec, and I. You said you were going to take us as far as Oasis.”
“Of course, of course. What was I thinking? Anyway, take the room and enjoy yourselves. I don’t want to hear another word about it.” Conra turned to speak with the innkeeper, closing himself off from anything more Darr had to say.
Resigned to Conra’s generosity, Darr and Jinn hauled Erec into the apartment’s interior and settled him on one of the couches. Their brother didn’t appear aware of his surroundings or anything going on around him, but he looked pleased to be at rest. Once Erec was settled, Conra went about starting a fire in the hearth.
While they waited for the fire, Darr and Jinn stepped out onto the balcony and the cool night air. Together they looked out on the Black Square.
“You really scared me today, you know,” Jinn said in a near whisper, her face bowed down and hidden.
“You mean with the magic?” Darr asked.
Jinn nodded and raised her head, her green eyes startling. “I didn’t know it would be like that. I’ve always believed what you said about the Currents, but I never believed...I didn’t think magic existed like that...”
“I didn’t either,” Darr said, cutting her off. “And it scared me too. The whole thing scared me senseless. It’s like I told you earlier, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I went to the Currents, but I had to do something. This is as strange for me as it is for you.”
“No, it’s not.” Jinn’s gaze was both intense and afraid. “In some ways, you still know what you’re doing. You’re still aware of your actions when you go into the Currents. You know when you’re talking to the Archons or spirits or whatever. Erec and I don’t know what’s going on until after the fact. We only see you exploding in light, and we don’t know if this is the last time we’ll ever see you.”
Darr couldn’t speak. He hadn’t thought about his summoning like that. He’d spent all his time trying to include Erec and Jinn in the happenings of the Currents, but they could never truly be a part of it.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I wish I could make you understand things better.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Jinn said. “Just try to remember no matter how hard you try to explain things, it’s never going to be enough. There are some things that Erec and I aren’t going to be able to understand.” She reached out and placed her hand over his. “But I’ll always love you, Darr.”
The Summoner smiled and promised himself he’d take fewer risks with his magic in the future.
Conra called from the main room, summoning Jinn and Darr in from the cold. A feast awaited them that would’ve fed them three times over.
“Where did you get all of this, Conra?” Jinn asked, her eyes huge as she surveyed the food layed out on a serving table. Roasted chicken and potatoes, fresh vegetables and fruits, a variety of cheeses and breads, and two pitchers of ale.
Conra laughed softly. “I asked the innkeeper to put it together. He was happy to bring it up to us considering the amount I spent on this place.”
Darr couldn’t comprehend how Conra had managed it all, but he decided to fill his stomach and simply be grateful. Conra, Darr, and Jinn gathered before the giant fireplace, warmed now by its heat, and they helped themselves to the meal. Erec stirred from his rest, aroused by the smell of hot food. He couldn’t find the strength to rise from the couch, so Jinn brought him a plate and fed him.
They were finishing their meal, wrapping up the leftover food and saving it for the morning, when a stirring within the Currents sent shivers along Darr’s neck.
Jinn stopped lighting the candles in the apartment and asked, “What’s wrong with you? I can tell something...”
“Quiet,” Darr rasped.
The spirits said nothing, but they were uneasy. No, it wasn’t unease. It was anticipation, like the way he would silence his thoughts during a thunderstorm.
Conra rose to his feet, reached for his crossbow, and clicked an iron bolt into place. Erec tried to rise, but Jinn pushed him back, telling him he’d be no good in a fight. She pulled her long knife free and eased herself before her brother, his protector this time. Uncertain, Darr looked at Conra, but the Elf only shrugged.
Darr reached down for his knife and hesitated. The knife wouldn’t do him any good he sensed. He probed the edges of the
Currents, trying to get a feel for the disturbance without actually submerging himself in the spirit realm. Something grew closer, almost inside the room. With careful steps, he walked to the door and placed his hand on the intricately wrought knob, turning it to pull back the latch.
He managed a quick look over his shoulder at Jinn who mouthed the words “be careful”. Darr looked back at the door and threw it open to the hallway beyond.
Nidic Waq stood there, towering over him.
Chapter Twenty-One
“At peace, the world of the Ancients slowly began to heal. The Sephirs grew strong once more, and the Four Elements swallowed up the destruction caused by the Devoid. Over the course of many generations, the races of Man, Elf, Dwarf, Ogre, and Dragon emerged from the hiding places Caeranol had made for them. At first, they congregated and intermingled, but they were wary of their new world.”
~From A Current History of Ictar, as told by Nidic Waq
Nidic Waq slid into the room like a wraith, his tall frame wrapped in a tattered black cloak. His physical features remained unchanged, though he looked darker and more forbidding. Darr hung onto the door for dear life. Nidic Waq’s ominous presence filled the room.
The prophet’s green eyes scanned the room, his wide mouth set into a flat line. It appeared as though he would become a focal point for them all to stare at in silent horror.
“Hello, Conra. Jinn. Erec,” Nidic Waq said, his gaze met each of them as he said their names. How clever, Darr thought. He learned their names by listening to the spirits.
“Hello, Darr,” the prophet said at last.
A connection formed with Nidic Waq in the Currents, though Darr hadn’t felt it on their first meeting. It was a bond similar to the one he’d shared with Racall.
Darr rose to his feet, his uneasiness with the situation beginning to fade. He closed the door and moved around Nidic Waq towards Conra and pressed lightly on the Elf’s shoulder, prompting him to lower his crossbow. Reluctant, Conra did so. It seemed too many strange things had happened for him to lower his guard completely. No matter how dark an impression he made, the prophet wouldn’t harm them. Nidic Waq’s emotions told Darr as much.
“What’re you doing here?” Darr asked.
Nidic Waq’s faint, mocking smile appeared. “I have come to see you, of course. You and your friends. Do you think I might have a seat and some of that ale?”
“You might as well,” Erec blurted out. Though he lay injured on the couch, Erec looked ready to leap up and throttle the prophet at the first sign of trouble. Not that his attempt would matter all that much.
Nidic Waq ignored him and walked over to a seat across from Erec. The prophet removed the tattered black cloak he wore, revealing his familiar white robes, burned through and shredded in spots. Whatever Nidic Waq had gone through to get to Oasis, it’d been a struggle. Darr poured a cup of ale, his mind racing as to why the prophet had returned. Did it have anything to do with the scattercrab, or something more?
Darr handed him the cup and Nidic Waq lifted it to his lips. The prophet took his time. Darr stepped away, uncomfortable, and sat down next to Erec, encouraging Conra and Jinn to do the same. Maybe once everyone was sitting, the tension would ease.
Once they were all seated, the prophet set his cup on the floor and turned his attention to them. Darr sat before Nidic Waq, worried that his siblings and Conra had no idea of the man’s capabilities. There wasn’t anything he could do for them.
Darr found Nidic Waq’s stare on him. “You’ve grown much since I last saw you, Summoner,” the prophet said, his voice smooth despite his worn down exterior. “You’ve made progress. Not much, but progress nonetheless.”
Darr’s anger boiled to the surface, but he calmed himself and said, “I think I’ve done very well considering all that’s happened.”
“You have done well,” the prophet said, “but not exceptional. You’ve taken unnecessary risks and placed yourself, and those you travel with, in danger. However, you’ve overcome your difficulties and day-by-day, you master your summoning abilities. You aren’t the ignorant youth I met in Tyfor.”
Darr eased himself back into his seat and glanced sideways at Erec. His brother watched the prophet with all the consideration he’d give a venomous snake. Conra stared in wonder, but it didn’t appear he would be saying anything.
“What happened to you?” Jinn asked, fearlessly breaking the tension. Darr respected her for it. “It looks like your journey was as dangerous as ours.”
Nidic Waq examined his robes without interest. “Yes, Jinn, my journey here was not a flight of luxury by any means. Would you like to hear?”
She nodded her head, and a half-smile creased the prophet’s face. “After I left your brother in Tyfor, I went to Darlholme to advise the Cortazian King in his preparations for sending his army south to the Triker Forests. On my first night after leaving the outpost, the Soul Seekers found me. My objective at that point in time was to meet Darr when he came down out of Cortaz, but I couldn’t risk bringing the Seekers to him. So, I led them into the mountains west of the Barricades and made my stand there. I defeated them all, but by this time, Darr had already restored the Water Sephir and was on his way into the Barricades. The obvious choice was to intercept him when he came out at Oasis.”
“Why did you have to find me at all?” Darr asked. “And why couldn’t you use the Currents to track me?”
Nidic Waq’s smile fell. “Had you been paying attention when I first spoke with you, the Currents are in a state of confusion, making it nearly impossible to locate anything in Ictar from within the spirit realm.”
Darr shallowed hard. The state of the Currents was why he couldn’t locate his father. He’d exposed Conra and his siblings to the dangerous scattercrab without any reason for it. He’d taken unnecessary risks and put his desires before his own good sense, nearly costing them everything.
“The lesson has been learned, Summoner,” Nidic Waq said. His pale green eyes narrowed. “I didn’t come here to teach. I came here to tell you the rest of a story. All of you. It’s time you understand what it is we fight and why.”
“Why wait until now, Prophet?” Erec asked, his features dark. “Why wait until we’re so far from home before telling us the rest of your story?”
“Because it will not matter--your minds are already decided for other reasons.”
Nidic Waq turned away from Erec’s angry glare and straightened his frame. The crackling fire in the hearth pervaded the silence as Darr and his friends waited for the prophet to start.
He began by retelling the history of the Ancients, how they rose to power by learning to live in harmony with the Sephirs. He explained how they reached an apex in their learning, leaving an avenue that only one man, Symdus, dared to explore, and how that avenue had led to the creation of the Devoid.
Darr might’ve imagined it, but the room darkened at the mention of the name. A chill numbed his body. He was glad his siblings and Conra finally knew about the Devoid, but somehow it felt more real as a result.
Nidic Waq continued by telling how Caeranol had attempted to destroy the Devoid, then of his inevitable failure. Following the sacrifice Caeranol made by becoming the Archon of the Light, the prophet concluded his story of how the Devoid had been imprisoned, and how the Ancients had fled.
“I always wondered what happened to the Ancients,” Conra whispered.
Erec rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe it. You just can’t accept the fact that they’re gone. They fell prey to their creation, and that’s that.”
“Erec!” Jinn exclaimed, her eyes filled with disgust. “Just accept maybe there’s something you don’t know.”
Darr worried more about what Nidic Waq might do to his brother. The prophet sat motionless in his chair, his stare disturbing as he looked at Erec.
“History does change with the teller,” Nidic Waq said. “The Ancients are gone from Ictar. How and why? I suppose it doesn’t really matter. But there’s one thing
about their story that matters considerably.”
Erec’s scowl grew long. “What’s that?” he asked.
“That the Devoid be erased from Ictar.”
Nidic Waq explained how Caeranol hid the remaining races during the imprisonment of the Devoid, and how their reemergence had led to the Aeon Wars. Lastly, he told of the creation of the Divine by Caeranol to ensure his promise to the people of Ictar would never be forgotten.
Nidic Waq sat motionless for a long moment before lifting his head up slightly, emphasizing his wide features. “Caeranol promised to send the Chosen of the Light, four people selected by the spirits, for the spirits alone would be the first to detect the Devoid’s return. These four would possess Lights infused with Caeranol’s magic, delivered to them by the spirits, allowing them to use talismans and magic to defeat the Devoid.”
The prophet shook his head. “I’ve been searching for the Chosen for some time now. The magic laying within their bodies should’ve made them easily identifiable, but the Devoid’s manipulations in the Currents prevents both myself and Caeranol from doing so. Even in its prison, the Devoid can make alterations to both the physical world and the Currents.”
Nidic Waq’s eyes brightened, and his gaze settled on Darr. “But something unexpected happened recently. A Summoner, stumbling through the Currents, somehow reached out with a part of his Light and connected with the Light of one of the Chosen. Thanks to you, Darr, Caeranol located the first of the Chosen.”
Darr’s stomach lurched. Who had he revealed to Caeranol as the first of the Chosen? He remembered that venture into the Currents in search of his father, seeking out something hidden, and he’d found…No.
The corners of Nidic Waq’s mouth lifted, and his stare shifted from one face to another, settling on Jinn.
“The burden you bear now is great,” Nidic Waq said quietly. “Jinn Reintol, you are the Healer of the Light, the first of the Chosen who will deliver Ictar from its shadows for good.”
The Children of the Light: Book 1: Spirit Summoner Page 18
