The Road to Light (The Path of Zaan Book 1)

by C. K. Rieke

  He looked up at the partially full moon in the sky in front of him. His confusion turned to anger at himself. What did I do to mess this up? he asked himself. He picked up a handful of rocks and threw them out over the wall as hard as he could. Only moments ago had been the best moment of his life. Most definitely the best he had felt since the Black Cave. What did I do? What could I have done differently? He played this in his head over and over again as he walked through the torchlit city. He was soon at Gar’s door, and knocked once firmly.

  “Hey,” Gar said, and then quickly asked, “you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just a little worked up. You wanna get some drinks?” Zaan asked, trying to remain calm.

  “Sure, let me get my jacket,” Gar replied.

  ***

  Two hours later, they were full to their eyeballs in a place called the Folk’s Inn. There were many people at the inn’s bar that night. It was loud and jolly, and Zaan was having a great time.

  The music was loud, the place was full of laughter, and Zaan and Gar had the adrenaline of young wolves. They pounded down whatever was laid down in front of them. The night got fuzzy for Zaan, but he did remember telling himself who needs her out loud a number of times.

  The night ended with Gar and Zaan hanging their legs off the high east walls of the city, watching the sunrise. They were starting to sober up and clear their heads. As the waves crashed in on the beach below them, Gar said, “Well, I guess I should turn in. Good luck with Zelestiana today.” Zaan’s eyes sprang open, and he looked over at the rising sun.

  “Oh, shit,” he mumbled.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  HE was in a full sprint as he took the turn to head up to the second tower. Immediately he saw Zelestiana waiting for him at the entrance to the tower. He ran up to her with his head down.

  “I am so sorry I am late. I just . . . had a bad night I guess,” he said.

  “Hmmm,” she responded, then leaned toward him and sniffed him; she leaned back. She stood up straight with her arms behind her. “Tell me about yourself, Zaan Talabard.”

  “I, umm, I like to be with friends and family, I’ve always wanted to travel, I’m from Fur-lol,” he said, trying to keep his weary eyes focused on her.

  “No, no, no,” Zelestiana replied. “Those are trivial things that tell me little about you. “Tell me what attributes you have.”

  “Okay, I’m, um, this is a hard one. Maybe I’m . . .” He trailed off, trying to think of the words to say. He wanted to say “reliable,” but he was late to his meeting with her. He wanted to say “fun,” but she wouldn’t care to hear that.

  “Let’s try something else.” She paused. “Describe the attributes of a little boy to me.” She stood straight and tall, looking over him.

  “Well . . .” He didn’t like this game, but had to respond. “Immature, irresponsible, impulsive.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Those are indeed the attributes of a young boy.”

  He did not reply, but felt embarrassed, and in his current state he had neither the muster nor soberness to argue with her.

  “So, since you were late for your first day of training, your first lesson is about ego and respect,” she said as she walked down the adjacent black stone stairs and beckoned him to join her. “The Azulūz is something that comes to its carrier not by chance. It is easy for the carrier to think themselves better than others, or more important. The fact is that we are neither, but we do carry a special gift. It is our responsibility”—she said this word with great emphasis—“to use it to help create a better world.”

  Zaan walked behind her as she walked along the wall of the city, looking out over to the Cascades to the west. He was weary, but calm and patient while listening to her.

  “You asked me how many of us there are, that carry the Azulūz with them. There are many fewer of us left than you may have assumed. We strive to bring those who have this gift here, to Barrier Cliff, to the Order of the Azulūz. And you, Zaan, once you are fully trained, if you are ever fully trained, you will become a great warrior of our order.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry about being late. But I really do want to be trained, and to learn everything there is to know about the Azulūz: where it came from, why we have it, and how I can use it.”

  “We have some answers here, and when you speak with Mäezer Palanzal, you may receive some of them. There is a single text that has survived the almost thousand years since the Battle of Dürmant and the end of the Olden Age and the birth of the Age of Peace. This text is called the Revelation of Secrecy and Light. It is our greatest possession. In it, it refers to the gods above. Here, the only god whose name we know of is Ojiin, the great and good creator above,” she said, looking into the sky. “He is our savior.”

  “I’ve heard about him. Do you believe He has forgotten about us?” he asked her.

  “That is a difficult question to answer, because so much having to do with divinity is belief-based. I believe He hasn’t forgotten. It’s more like He is asleep. But He will awaken, on a day of great reckoning, where the Devil God below will shake and quiver and remove himself from this world. This is what the Order of the Azulūz is. We are the ones who wait for the Great Awakening, and when that time comes, we will be ready to fight.”

  “So,” Zelestiana started again. “Where do you fit into all of this?”

  Zaan thought hard, then spoke. “I will be a Crusader of the Order of the Azulūz and fight for good.”

  “Close. First you are to show up on time, when you are told to do so. As of now, you have no use of the Azulūz, no special power whatsoever, and you are no better than anyone else here,” she said. “This is the beginning of you becoming something. If you become arrogant and look inward, the Azulūz will travel further from your grasp, and it may even leave you. You must be humble, and become a part of something greater than yourself.”

  He looked at her. “I think I understand. I am sorry for being late today. It won’t happen again.”

  “That had better be true. I will not be forgiving next time. I am not above putting you through great physical labors. I could tell you to climb that mountain.” She pointed at the tallest peak visible. “Before I train you further, if I commanded, you would do whatever labor I asked and I would hold you to it.” No expression came across her face except that of sincerity.

  “Okay,” he replied softly.

  “So, for being late today, you are to write ten pages to me about how you are not going to be a little boy anymore. By tomorrow, you will become that man who escaped the Black Cave single-handedly and saved all of those people. Then you will meet me at the same time at the same place, and you will be early. Do you understand?” she said sternly.

  “I understand.”

  “Get some sleep and bathe, and don’t stay up all night with your friend at Folk’s Inn.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  AFTER a refreshing midday nap, Zaan went to eat some lunch at the market, and then went out to find Astor. After going to the place Astor normally stayed, a stone one-room building in the northern part of Barrier Cliff, he found Astor outside of Elindrill’s home, which was one of the more hospitable-looking places in town. Her place had still-living plants hanging on the front of the stone patio, and through the window Zaan could see bright interior colors. Astor was there, eating grapes and cheese while sipping wine.

  “Hey, look who it is!” Astor said.

  “Hey,” Zaan replied. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Really? Everything okay?” Astor held out some grapes and his glass of wine. “You want some?”

  “I just ate, but I’ll take a glass.”

  Astor poured him a glass. The wine was light and rosy, and smelled of lavender. “So what’s new with you? You getting used to this dreary place yet? I bet life has been like the Aterax for you lately, blowing you around from place to place.” Astor took a sip from his glass.

  “I’m fine. It’s
great to be around Gar again. I don’t want to take my friends for granted ever again. We ended up staying up too late having too much fun last night. I got in trouble with Zelestiana this morning. I was late to our first session. What a mistake that was.” Zaan twirled the wine around in his glass.

  “Haha,” Astor laughed. “I bet she didn’t like that.”

  “I have to write a long essay for her tomorrow morning,” Zaan said. “It’s like I am in school again.”

  “You are in school again, a different kind of school, but she is one of the best teachers here. You should listen to her,” Astor replied. “How is everything else going?”

  There was a long pause. Zaan looked down at the glass of wine in his hand. He watched the wine drip down the sides of the glass; it looked like tiny frozen streams.

  “You ever have girl problems?” Zaan asked softly.

  “Ha-ha.” Astor gave a quick laugh, then stopped. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but yeah, who hasn’t, I guess. Why? What’s this girl doing?”

  “I don’t understand. She’s like, great one moment, and then the next, totally different. It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t know if I should go talk to her or if she will come talk to me, or . . . I don’t know.” Zaan took a big swig of the wine, taking half of it in his mouth, and gulped.

  “I wish I had an easy answer for you. Even at my age, I don’t really understand women; what a strange statement to make, like they are all the same, ha. I’d probably say to let her do her thing. If she needs time, let her have it, but don’t let her think that you’ve forgotten about her,” he said.

  “How do I do that?” Zaan asked.

  “I have no idea. Well, I shouldn’t say that. It depends on the girl,” he replied. “Do I know her?” Astor took a sip.

  “Yeah, Tilda,” Zaan said. Astor almost spit up his wine, but managed to keep it all from spraying out. It was quite a forceful motion, and looked painful as Astor choked it down.

  “What?” Zaan asked.

  “I just, I didn’t expect you to say her. It’s surprising, is all,” Astor said, trying to hide any emotion he might be showing. He wiped his mouth clean.

  “Why is it surprising?” Zaan said with an irritated tone.

  “Listen, I’m not trying to offend you, and good for you, really. She is a beautiful woman,” Astor said. “You are my friend, and I care about you. I guess I’m just surprised because of your . . . age.”

  “Why?” Zaan asked quickly.

  “Now, don’t get defensive. To be honest, I’m surprised because she’s probably twice your age, isn’t she?” Astor said delicately.

  “Yeah, I guess, but what does age matter?” Zaan responded.

  “It doesn’t. Let’s move on. So you are asking me my advice on Tilda. Well, she’s like a sister to me. So trying to figure her out romantically, that is tricky, and a little weird. My advice still stands: Give her some space, don’t overwhelm her, but don’t let her forget about you.”

  “I’ll try, but she’s all I think about. It’s difficult,” Zaan said as he took the last half of his wine in his mouth.

  Astor took out a long, dark wood pipe from his side pouch and stuffed some dried tobacco into it, then put it into his mouth and lit the leaves. Glowing embers floated up from the pipe as he inhaled. He took a couple of short puffs and let out a large cloud of smoke. Zaan breathed the smoke in and felt himself relax.

  “You want some?” Astor asked. Zaan took the pipe from Astor’s hand and took a deep inhale from it. It tasted good. It’s a fine tobacco, Zaan thought, and as he exhaled he let out a satisfied sigh.

  “Thanks,” Zaan said. Astor reached over and filled Zaan’s empty glass with the last remnants of the bottle.

  “We should go visit Gogenanth after this,” Astor said as he inhaled again.

  Twenty minutes passed. Astor and Zaan didn’t speak much, but looked at the sky and finished their wine and tobacco and got up to head out toward the infirmary. They walked about ten minutes until they reached the street the infirmary was on—the main road that ran through the center of the city.

  They approached the front door to the infirmary— a wooden door painted white, with a red star in the center. Astor knocked a couple of times, and someone unlatched the door from the inside, and a man peered at them through the crack in the door, then opened it wider for them to enter.

  Astor and Zaan walked in and went straight for the room Gogenanth was in. Before they were halfway to the door they heard, “Sir, I need you to rest. You need to stay still.” As they reached the doorway to the well-lit infirmary room, they saw the female medic washing Gogenanth, running a damp sponge over his exposed body.

  “I’m okay, I don’t need you to . . .” he said, and then stopped short when he saw his friends at the door.

  “Oh, sorry,” Zaan said. “We can come back.

  The woman tossed the sponge on the ground. “Agh, don’t worry about it. He is more trouble than he is worth.” She walked quickly past Astor and Zaan out the door.

  “Catch you in a bit of a moment?” Astor asked with a grin.

  “I’ve got to get outta here. That woman is going to be the end of me,” Gogenanth said. “Those nurses are always trying to get me to stay in bed. Have you ever had someone else wipe your ass before? It’s embarrassing.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be here at least another week? You still have burns, and your lacerations need to heal,” Zaan said. “What am I talking about? I saw you live through fights with giant mountain wolves and a lightning strike in the middle of the Aterax. Let’s get you up.” He went over and began to help Gogenanth up to his feet.

  Astor looked surprised by this, but went over and gathered the remains of Gogenanth’s torn clothes. “It looks like this is the second time I’ve broken you out from imprisonment. That’s two you owe me now. Astor Delasius, constant rescuer of Gogenanth of the Arr. Ha.”

  Gogenanth sneered up at him. “I didn’t see you help fight any of those wolves. I’m sure you were just about to though . . .”

  Astor smirked. “It’s good to see you are doing better, friend.” He gave Gogenanth a big hug. “The Great Wolf Hurler.”

  “What did you say?” Gogenanth asked.

  “That’s one of the names you have been given. I love it. The Great Wolf Hurler. It’s kind of hard to say, so I don’t think it will stick,” Astor explained.

  They exited the room stealthily and walked toward an exit out the side of the infirmary.

  “You’ve got a few others that are better,” Zaan said. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. You and that big wolf. I was shaking like a doe.” Zaan’s eyes were wide in recollection of that moment on the mountain.

  They opened the door and crept out into an alleyway lit brightly by the afternoon sun. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted over from a nearby dwelling. “Ah, that’s better,” Gogenanth said, taking off more bandages. “I just needed to get some sunlight.”

  “We should get out of town for a while, Gogenanth. Get out of these black walls for a bit,” Astor said. “It sounds like Zaan needs to stay here and do his homework, though.” He looked over at Zaan. “Sorry, but I don’t want to be on Zelestiana’s bad side as well.”

  Gogenanth looked over at Zaan. “Pay attention to her. She’s a good friend.” To hear him say that made Zaan even more determined to do better with Zelestiana. That night, Zaan wrote ten pages about steps he would take to be more responsible and mature. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do everything he wrote. After all, ten pages about how to grow up was a lot, he thought. Hopefully it would be enough to satisfy her, though.

  ***

  The following morning, he arrived twenty minutes early. Zelestiana was already there, waiting.

  “Better,” she said.

  “Here it is.” He handed her the neatly folded, handwritten ten pages. She took it in her long, slender fingers, tore it in half, and threw it on the ground.

&
nbsp; “Are you ready?” Zelestiana asked.

  “Yes,” Zaan said, without hesitation. He understood this lesson. It was not about what he wrote; it was that he had done what she told him to do and could avoid getting wrapped up in his ego when she tore it up. He had to be careful about getting defensive with her.

  The first lesson of the day consisted of Zaan doing pushups in penance for being late the day prior, and once he could no longer lift himself up, they ran out of Barrier Cliff and up to the foothills of the mountains, heading north. When he grew tired, she would whip his calves with a thin twig that bit sharply, but the pain did not linger.

  They approached a tall grassy hill that rose sharply, littered with dull, gray rocks. As they arose to the crescent, Zaan was winded. Zelestiana’s breathing was calm and unlabored.

  “What do you see?” Zelestiana asked, looking out into a valley encompassed by the foothills of mountains.

  Zaan was hunched over, with his hands on his knees. He looked out into the distance. On the right was the sea, and to the left were the last remnants of the Cascades. He was too winded to enjoy the scenery as much as he should.

  He huffed. “It’s beautiful.” He looked over at her, seeing that she was unimpressed. “I don’t know. Am I supposed to see something? I’m distracted from trying to catch my breath.”

  “You are distracted; you cannot see. That is the lesson here. Some of the most important things in our lives are done in the moments of most stress, and that is when the most concentration is needed,” she replied. “What do you see?”

  “Okay.” Zaan took a deep breath. “I see . . . the majesty of the sky. I see its colors fading, and I see the ripples of dead grass on the plains.”

  “How much do you trust your eyes?” Zelestiana asked.

  “Quite a lot, I hope,” he replied, trying to figure out what she wanted of him.

  “Now, what do you see?” Zelestiana asked, as blue flames danced around her words. The scenery turned to luscious green. Tall forest trees grew all around them, shooting up toward the sky. The burning golden sun hung in the distance, framed by giant white clouds. The rolling hills of dead grass turned into lively fields of blue orchids. Deer scampered across the fields in playful delight.