The Tower Of The Watchful Eye: The Legend Of Kairu Book 1

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The Tower Of The Watchful Eye: The Legend Of Kairu Book 1 Page 4

by Tim McFarlane


  He cleared his throat. “’I pledge to...’ blah blah blah. Look, listen to me and do as I say and we’ll be fine. Don’t, and I’ll beat you with the blunt side of my staff. Do we have a deal?”

  “Yes, sir,” I answered starting to think I had made the wrong choice.

  “Good,” he fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a key. “This is the key to the Archive room at the top of the tower. It will also open the small room that will be your bedroom. I better not find you in any other room but yours. We start early tomorrow.”

  Chapter 4

  I jerked awake, breathing heavily. The dream I had receding from my mind too quickly to remember anything of importance.

  All I remember was a tower.

  I threw the blanket off of my body and sat up in the bed. The bedroom felt strange but the dresser, closet and end tables were in their normal place so I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Is everything okay?” a female voice croaked behind me.

  I looked behind me to see a familiar looking woman lying in the bed next to where I was sleeping. Her brown hair was tangled up on the top of her head and her blue eyes looked up at me questioning. She was my wife, but her name didn’t immediately spring to mind.

  “Yeah, it’s fine,” I answered. “Just a weird dream.”

  “Well, we should probably get up anyhow,” she said as she stretched. “The baby needs to be fed.”

  My memory slipped again but the memory of our year old baby, Heather, entered my mind. I don’t know what was wrong with me today, that dream was really screwing with my head. I grabbed it with both of my hands and took long steady breaths.

  “Are you sure you are alright?” my wife asked worried. “Maybe we should take you to see the doctor.”

  “No, I’m ok,” I answered. “The dream just left me disoriented.”

  “What happened in it?” she asked worried.

  “Not a whole lot,” I replied, “just a tower in a field.”

  “You’re having the Tower dream again?” she asked relieved.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I said.

  “Whatever happened there must have really affected you,” she said.

  “Sometimes I wonder if leaving was the right choice,” I replied.

  “Of course it was, it led you to me,” she smiled.

  I leaned down to kiss her but then the sound of a baby crying broke through the early morning.

  “Drat,” she pouted as she sat up.

  We rose from the bed and threw on some simple clothes and left the bedroom. Our tiny cottage was a mess but when you are taking care of an infant, you have very little time to clean.

  “I’ll go grab her,” my wife said. “Clean us a place in the kitchen.”

  “Of course,” I smiled.

  She disappeared into a tiny room as I wandered over to the kitchen and filled the sink with the jug of water from the floor. I would have to refill it at the well before breakfast but judging by the amount of dirty dishes, that was some time away. I grabbed a cloth and started working.

  The morning outside looked peaceful as the sun rose over the farm. The corn looked to be growing well and we might have a good harvest for once. This was definitely a better life than the one at the tower.

  But why did I leave it again?

  “Therrrre’s Daddy,” my wife cooed behind me.

  I looked behind me to see my wife smiling holding our baby, Heather. Heather was smiling like only a baby can smile while dribbling on herself.

  “Hello, you,” I smiled looking into the baby’s eyes.

  The look back was blank and lifeless but Heather clapped her hands in happiness.

  “Why don’t you get some more water,” my wife said as she put the baby into a safety chair, “and I’ll finish off those dishes.”

  “Works for me,” I said drying my hands.

  I picked up the water jug and left through the front door. If my memory served me well, which it hasn’t this morning, the well tap should be around the side of the cottage. I walked around the corner and smiled when I saw it.

  Maybe I’m not as crazy as I thought.

  A few pumps of the tap brought water rushing out and filled the jug in a matter of seconds. I picked it back up and entered the house again. The dishes were finished and my wife was just wiping up the table.

  “You’re quick,” I said.

  “It wasn’t that much,” she smiled as she threw the rag towards the sink.

  “Don’t be modest, there was a lot there,” I said as I carried the water jug over to the stove. “Sometimes I wonder who has the real magic here.”

  “There’s nothing magical about being a good wife,” she responded as she took the water jug from me. “I’ll start breakfast now.”

  She started the stove and poured some water into a pot. I left the kitchen before she could shoo me out and sat next to my daughter. She looked preoccupied with a couple of smoothed sticks that she was beating the table with. She was a beautiful baby, almost a perfect replica of her mother.

  “It’s hard to believe that we have created something so beautiful,” I called out to my wife.

  “I know what you mean,” she replied. “I still think she has your mother’s nose though.”

  “Yeah,” I said absentmindedly.

  I looked at Heather’s nose and tried to draw a comparison to my mother’s but there wasn’t anything to compare to. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t picture my mother. Realization slowly dawned on me. I was taken to the Tower as an infant; I have never seen my mother.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” my wife asked.

  “I don’t know my mother,” I answered looking at her suspiciously.

  “What do you mean?” she asked confused.

  “I’ve never known my mother, when did we meet her?” I asked standing up from the table and facing her.

  “I meant MY mother,” she said nervously.

  “Who are you?” I asked my ‘wife’.

  “I’m your wife,” she answered getting really nervous.

  “No, you’re not,” I replied. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Well, what type of husband are you?” she asked angrily. “I’m Cathy, as I have always been. I think you need to see the doctor. Something isn’t right.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “Something ISN’T right.”

  I felt the rush of power to my hand as I launched a Dispel at the wall. The whole cottage started to fade as ‘Cathy’ grabbed her head and shrieked. When the cottage had disappeared, the two of us were left standing in the same small clearing with the tree we had been in the other night. My ‘wife’ looked up at me, her eyes aglow and her teeth clenched together.

  “I almost had you,” she hissed. “But you’re too damn suspicious. You won’t accept anything good happening to you.”

  “I fail to see how being possessed by a Demon is good for me,” I said.

  “You won’t know until you try it,” she snarled.

  “Why did you come back?” I asked.

  “I will always come back, like I said, you can’t resist me forever,” she said seductively. “Now if you’ll excuse me, ‘darling’, I have to go. Until tomorrow, ‘my love’.”

  She turned around and started to walk away. I forced some energy into my hand and waved it sideways. A blast of energy hit her and she slammed into the tree. The bark of the tree started to morph and change shape as it slowly covered her body.

  She laughed in pure joy. “Do you know what you’ve done, you stupid mortal?”

  “I’ll be asking the questions,” I shouted as I walked over to face her.

  “Hey, it’s your mind,” she said casually.

  “Now, what’s your name?” I asked.

  “I am the immortal soul of a Demon,” she explained. “We don’t carry personal names only titles. I am your Desire and your Pleasure, but seeing as you pathetic mortals need ‘names’ for conversation; just continue to call me ‘Cathy’. It was the name created for t
he dream and it will serve well for our conversation.”

  “Very well, ‘Cathy’,” I said. “Why do you use the same exact character for each dream?”

  I looked her over and the image of the King’s daughter/niece from the other dream came to mind.

  “Well, I can tap into your mind and see what type of girl would entice you the best,” she explained. “It’s not my fault you like blue eyed brunettes.”

  I stared at her but she just stood there with a smirk on her face. The tree was pulsing slowly as the gnarled bark continued to hold Cathy to the tree.

  “How many other Mages have you tried to possess?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “56,” she answered without hesitation. She chuckled as an involuntary look of shock crossed my face. “Aww, did you think you were my first?”

  “How many of those 56 did you manage to possess?” I asked.

  “32,” she answered. “Most were during the first...what do you call them...Demon Dreams?”

  “That’s impressive,” I muttered.

  “Thanks, husband,” she smiled.

  “Don’t call me that,” I said.

  “Sorry, love,” she smirked. “I’m still in character.”

  I started pacing back and forth. “How can I protect my mind to prevent you from coming back?”

  “Isn’t that the job of one of your Teachers?” she asked.

  “Well, let’s hear it from you,” I said.

  “I don’t know, love,” she answered trying to shrug. “One night you can get in, the next night you can’t.”

  I stopped as an odd thought crossed my mind. “Why are you answering all these questions so truthfully?”

  She chuckled. “How do you know I’m being truthful?”

  “Just a feeling,” I said slowly as I tried to think it over. “What are you up to?”

  She laughed. “Can’t I just have a nice talk with my husband while tied to a tree?”

  “I hardly think you’re the chatty type,” I said crossing my arms.

  “Well, let’s just say you’ve made a big mistake and I’m distracting you while I capitalize on it,” she smiled.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked starting to panic.

  “Finally,” she laughed. “A question worth answering. See this clearing here; this is the realm of your subconscious. This is where your dreams come from.”

  “Yes, I know, I’m not an idiot. You can drop that condescending tone,” I said.

  “Sorry, love, I just wanted to make sure I didn’t leave you behind with my big words,” she said sweetly.

  “Get on with it,” I said frustrated.

  “Well this is where Demons enter and control your dreams, like what I did this night and last,” she continued. “Because you dispelled my magic, we are now standing in your bare subconscious. And this tree, that I’m now bonded too, represents your connection to your conscious mind. See, you have done me a HUGE favour by attaching me to it. I’ve been trying to take over your mind during the entire questioning.”

  I stood there with fear racing through my heart but as we stood in silence, nothing changed. “So why haven’t you taken over my mind yet?”

  “I’m trying to,” she said annoyed. “I’ve just never done it before while your soul was still in the body.”

  “So, you won’t be able to?” I asked growing a little confident.

  “I never said that,” she snapped as she struggled. “I just need more time.”

  She continued to struggle and I sat down on the ground in front of her. After a minute she stopped and just stared at me with hateful eyes.

  “Aww, is someone stuck?” I asked in a condescending tone.

  “I am not, I just can’t...seem to...move,” she answered reluctantly.

  “Same thing,” I smiled.

  “I WILL kill you for this,” she hissed.

  “So, it would appear that my soul is too strong for you to take over and because you’ve bonded yourself to the tree of my consciousness, you can not leave my sub-conscious. Am I right?” I asked.

  She sighed. “Yes. There, are you happy? I screwed up.”

  “I’m not happy,” I said. “What does this mean now? When I wake up, I mean? Am I now possessed? Half possessed? Are the Teachers going to know that I have a Demon in my mind?”

  “Stop asking so many stupid questions and let me think,” Cathy snapped.

  “Sorry,” I said standing up. “This whole Demon business is new to me.”

  “Well, this whole ‘being stuck in the subconscious’ thing is new to me as well,” she said.

  “So, we’re stuck working together to get you freed?” I asked.

  She sighed. “Unfortunately. But do me a favour when you wake up.”

  “Ok?” I said.

  “Don’t die out there,” she said.

  “Are you worried that you will die as well?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered with a smile as the fog drew near us. “I just want to kill you myself.”

  “How can I resist an offer like that?” I said sarcastically as the fog slowly engulfed us.

  Chapter 5

  I opened my eyes slowly to see the morning sun streaking across the ceiling. I sat up quickly and looked around the tiny chamber and breathed a sigh of relief. I was back in my bedroom on the Archive floor in the Tower of the Watchful Eye. I chuckled and shook my head at my need to confirm my reality.

  You call this reality? A female voice asked annoyed.

  “Who said that?” I asked the room as I looked around. The room was still empty except for the tiny dresser, desk and end table.

  Weird.

  What is? The female voice asked.

  Who is this?

  Your mom. Who do you think? The female voice asked annoyed again.

  Cathy?

  ‘Bout time you got that, she said. Out of all the humans in the world, I’m stick with a dink who can’t rub two brain cells together.

  I grabbed my head and started to rub my temple.

  How is this possible?

  I’m stuck in your mind, she explained slowly. I can hear you think but I can’t see or hear anything else. This is very irritating, by the way. I’m stuck with your pathetic thoughts as my only means of understanding what’s happening around you.

  Can you just not listen?

  And do what? She asked.

  The door opened and Keeper Anderson gave me a weird look.

  “You’re still not dressed?” he asked. “Come on, boy, hurry up. There’s some stuff I need to run through before the morning meeting.”

  “Uh, right,” I said as I threw the covers aside.

  Keeper Anderson shut the door as I crossed the room to the dresser. I pulled out one of the black robes of the Keeper and threw it on.

  What’s going on now? Cathy asked.

  I have to get ready for the day.

  What do you do? She asked.

  I don’t have time to answer.

  Well help me out here a little, she said.

  Look, I can’t be stopping to narrate my life to you. If you want to be the one to kill me, then I can’t be having conversations in my head. People are going to get suspicious.

  Fine, she said.

  “Holcombe!” Keeper Anderson shouted.

  “On my way,” I called out as I opened the door.

  “What took you so long?” he asked annoyed as I approached him.

  “My head’s just all screwed up this morning,” I said as I grabbed my head.

  “This better not be a habit,” he said. “You need to be on your toes in this position.”

  “You’re right, it won’t happen again,” I replied letting my hand drop.

  “Now,” he said straightening himself out. “This is the Archives Floor and home to the Keeper. I am, technically, First Keeper and as my protégé you have the rank of Second Keeper. ‘Keeper’ means almost squat other than the Teachers and Mages ‘respect’ you and you get to go anywhere you want.”

&
nbsp; “Those sound like good benefits,” I said.

  “You would think,” he said starting to pace. “That’s the way it’s supposed to be but nowadays it means nothing. There is no respect anymore. Only fear. You’re going to think its respect but it's all lies.”

  “Why do they fear us?” I asked.

  “Because we are the Keepers,” he answered. “Everything about them is recorded and documented by us. Every disciplinary matter, every dirty secret, everything. You’re friends with Thomas from the library, are you not?”

  “Of course, he seems like an okay guy,” I shrugged.

  “Does he now?” Keeper Anderson said with a smile. He stopped pacing and turned to me. “Is that why he was Silenced?”

  “I don’t know why he was Silenced, no one will say,” I answered.

  “That’s because no one knows exactly what his crimes are,” The Keeper continued to smile. “Everything about it was covered up. Technically he should be dead.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  A wild look crept into Keeper Anderson’s eyes as he motioned with his finger to follow him. Pulling out a key, he led me around to a door marked ‘Crime’. He opened the door and we entered the room. Bookshelves lined all the walls and stray books littered the floor around a tiny desk in the centre of the room.

  “This is the Order’s Hall of Criminals,” Keeper Anderson said grandly. “All of the recordings of the scum of our ‘respected’ Order lie within here.” He picked up an open book from the desk and handed it to me. “To first understand Thomas, you must first learn his family name.”

  I looked at the book and my eyes grew wide in shock. “Pryce?” I read aloud before looking up sat him. “Thomas Pryce?”

  “Master Pryce’s son, himself,” The Keeper chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to share his knowledge. “Keep reading.”

  I read the book and grew sick to my stomach. It was a detailed history of Thomas’ life. How he was a respected Apprentice. How he went into the School of the Natural and begun studying plants. How he was responsible for the kidnap, sexual abuse and death of 15 Child Apprentices. I handed the Keeper back the book and he chuckled.

  “Quite the guy isn’t he?” he said with a smirk.

 

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