Primeval Origins : Paths of Anguish - Award Winning, New Epic Fantasy / Science Fiction (The Primeval Origins Saga Book 1)

by Brett Vonsik

  “No!” Kardul sounded adamant. Fear no longer trembled in his voice. “He’s my charge and I keep my oaths.”

  “Not this time.” Im’Kas spoke matter-of-factly and appeared unconcerned that Kardul and his companions were so close. A quick glance told Rogaan that Kardul’s companions were trying to hide their fears of being so close to the dark axe, but not doing much of a job of it. “Either you hand the youngling over, or I’ll take him. I care not if you force my hand, me killing you and your followers.”

  Kardul’s companions looked nervously at each other. Trundiir’s glum frown gave Rogaan pause. He did not appear nervous, as the others did. Instead, the tellen seemed bored, while also keeping attentive to everything going on about him. A slap at Rogaan’s left leg drew his attention back to the ground where he found Pax standing.

  “Be careful,” Pax said with an air of caution. “They be talkin’ of ya as if ya be a piece of meat they be fightin’ over.”

  Kardul wore a stern thoughtful face. Rogaan could not blame the baraan for considering handing him over after seeing those ebon blades killing, though he hoped the Kiuri’Ner would not give him up. If it came to a battle of blades, Rogaan figured Kardul might see Im’Kas a wound or two, but would end up lightless.

  “Im’Kas....” The dark axe’s companion came running up. “That kabiri approaches. He’s protected and holds much power. Far greater than me.”

  “I’m aware, Daluu,” Im’Kas replied, almost matter-of-factly.

  “I’m uncertain…I feel his power even from here,” Daluu anxiously continued. “He may be more powerful than both of us, together.”

  “I’m certain of it.” Im’Kas confirmed his companion’s fear as if he were confirming that the sun rises in the morning. “Finish your preparations.”

  “He’s been following us since Brigum,” Kardul added to their verbal exchange.

  “You killed several of mine.” Im’Kas stared at Kardul. “I’ll not forget.”

  “Is this the time for trifling over past matters?” Kardul shot back, clearly feeling he had the advantage with a third interest joining them -- an interest for Im’Kas and his companion to be more concerned about than Kardul, from what Rogaan suspected. Im’Kas glared at Kardul, though he said nothing before turning his attention to the approaching dark figure.

  The black-cloaked rider and his sarig were a spear’s throw away, approaching across the field at a stroll. He had followed them through the forest and over the mountain pass, then over the countryside and more forest. He was a determined one, and confident, by the casual way he carried himself in the saddle. Everyone in their party thought him the dark axe. They were wrong. When the rider broke forty strides distance, a prickling sensation engulfed Rogaan. He found himself unable to move, or even to speak. Panic welled up within him as he unsuccessfully struggled to free himself from the unseen bonds. Panic pressed in on him and he found it difficult to breathe. Darkness…the unknown unnerved Rogaan, but not being able to breath terrified him. Suffocating was a horrible way for anyone to die. Hoping for help, Rogaan focused on his peripheral vision to see if anyone was able to aid him. Out of the corner of his eye, Rogaan found Ishmu and Trundiir and their steeds suffering the same. They were all stuck in their places. No help.

  Panic consumed Rogaan, leaving him unable to think. His thoughts turned chaotic, unfocused. He struggled against the invisible bonds, but only managed to use up more of his air. He felt light-headed as twinkling lights flashed in his vision before his vision narrowed with gray, then blackness, taking his outer sight until all he saw was that directly in front of him. Rogaan felt helpless and so far away from home, far from his family and the warm bed he knew and the petty rivalry with Kantus, and from the safety of Brigum’s walls. How foolish his desires to become a Kiuri’Ner. He was not fit, not ready to take on the challenges of the world. And he had brought Pax and Suhd with him. How selfish of me. How stupid of me. Rogaan’s despair took from him his will to fight. He felt all alone to battle the dark forces of the world and an unseen beyond. They were devouring him and taking his light from him one heartbeat, one breath at a time. His vision dimmed further. His chest burned. His sight was now all grays, with blackness closing in from all around. A dark-clad figure stepped into what was remaining of his sight then stood in between him and the black cloaked rider. How is that he can move? Rogaan wondered, but was relieved for it. A glimmer of hope sparked in him when air started to fill his lungs. It was not much, but enough to lessen the burning in his chest and the flashing lights in his sight. His gray sight gained shades of color and sharpened. His vision cleared enough for him to see that it was Im’Kas who stood shielding him from the rider.

  “Close enough, stranger,” Im’Kas cautioned. The black-cloaked rider brought his sarig to a halt.

  “I am without quarrel with you, Im’Kas of the Ebon Circle.” The black-cloaked rider’s formal way of speaking and deep, slightly resonating voice were different from those familiar to him. It certainly was not baraan or tellen. Even the few evendiir, with their higher-pitched voices, and Mornor-skurst with their breathy words he had heard speak did not sound like the cloaked rider.

  “Why have you stilled everyone?” Im’Kas demanded of the dark figure.

  “I mean to have the half-tellen,” the black-cloaked rider answered as if simply stating fact. “I will see him away from this incompetence.”

  Why does everyone want to take me away from everyone else? Rogaan sat dumbfounded. Who is this rider? Pax is right…I am nothing but a piece of meat to them...and there are things here much bigger than just Father’s doings. Rogaan felt the weight of the world pressing on him. He had simple dreams…become a Kiuri’Ner and protect those who could not protect themselves. Maybe have the chance to be a hero of the stories told in the days ahead. What have I gotten into? What have I gotten Pax and Suhd into?

  “I’ll see him away from here,” Im’Kas countered with an even tone.

  “Then, I am with quarrel with you,” the black-cloaked rider replied with an even, dangerous tone. Another wave of prickles ripped through Rogaan, leaving him immobile.

  “Now, Daluu!” Im’Kas called to his companion, while managing an air of calm. In a blink, Im’Kas drew his twin black-bladed short swords from his shoulder scabbards and charged the dark rider.

  The dark rider’s steed stumbled. Somewhere behind him, Rogaan heard a snicker. He guessed it came from Daluu and that he had done something to make the rider’s steed unsteady. Rogaan made to break free of whatever was restricting him. He tried to move, but found himself unable to do so. Worse, he realized he could no longer draw a breath. His concern immediately turned to panic as he unsuccessfully struggled for breath.

  Im’Kas charged through ferns and flowers at the black-cloaked rider, with no sign of wanting less than to take his head, but the rider maneuvered his steed at the moment of Im’Kas’ attack such that all Im’Kas could strike was the steed itself. A hind limb was cut from the rider’s sarig, toppling the animal, and the cloaked rider rolled free of his falling sarig. He did so with a surprising grace, regaining his feet immediately.

  Rogaan’s sight of the battle filled with random lights and his vision became almost completely grayed when his skin crawled with more prickling, this time the unpleasant sensation came from the opposite direction. Suddenly, he could draw breath. He drew in another, a deep breath, and found he could move his limbs some. His rising panic quelled. The exploding spots of light disappeared from his vision. He saw before him Im’Kas, closing on the black- cloaked rider who drew a single black blade, a slender double-edged sword. Im’Kas hammered down a double stroke at the rider with his pair of black weapons. The rider gracefully blocked both with a sweep of his blade. They battled like a pair of whirlwinds, moving as dancers to the song of violent ringing when their blades clashed. Both moved faster than Rogaan thought possible, making it difficult to follow their strikes. Another wave of prickling crawled over Rogaan. Each time it did, he was able to m
ove a bit more. His head he could rotate now. Rogaan looked over his shoulder, wanting to see what was behind him…where the prickling of his skin originated. He found a badly sweating and visibly shaking Daluu holding a black stone pendant, mumbling to himself just before another prickling wave crawled over his skin. Rogaan could almost move freely. Daluu repeated his gestures and mumblings, again and again. Another prickling wave swept over Rogaan. Relief filled Rogaan when he could finally move freely. Daluu looked about to fall over.

  The ringing of metal on metal drew Rogaan’s attention back to the sword battle. The rider made a striking move that seemed not intended to harm, but instead to gain separation from Im’Kas. The rider then raised his left hand and struck Im’Kas with an unseen explosion of air, tossing him backward. Im’Kas landed on his back before quickly rolling into a crouch. An orange glow hung over the spot where Im’Kas had stood a moment prior, before it faded away. Im’Kas dropped both swords, blade tips stuck into the ground. The dark axe extended both hands toward his dark adversary as the rider raised his left hand against Rogaan and the others. An invisible wave struck the black-cloaked rider, knocking him from his feet over flowers and ferns as the unseen force slammed into Rogaan. The force brutally knocked him off his sarig, sending him airborne and knocking the air from his lungs. He hit the ground hard face down before bouncing and rolling through the ferns and flowers, finally sliding to a stop. His whole body hurt and his lungs burned as he struggled to find his breath. Rogaan needed to get upright and on his feet so he could flee. It was too dangerous to stay in this field, near them. With a strained effort to breathe, air partially filled his lungs, giving Rogaan some relief from his light head, but at the cost of a stinging chest. He forced himself into a sitting position then took another breath to clear his head and sight before looking around. Ferns and flowers were all about him level with his eyes. A tremor shook the world under him. It lasted a moment before the ground stilled and the world went quiet…even the featherwings fell silent.

  Rogaan held still a long moment, not sure what to make of it. The tremor was not like the deep movement of the ground when the earth trembled. Instead, this tremor felt sharp and close. A moment’s pause waiting for the next tremor left him anxious to get to his feet and away from this place, away from danger, away from them. When the earth remained still, he scrambled to his knees then looked for everyone else from his vantage point just above the ferns. He found everyone low in the ferns and flowers, the same as him. Even the sarigs had lost their feet. Daluu lay close, unconscious, but appeared to be breathing. His sarig was not in sight. The air had a crisp smell as if a thunderstorm rich with lightning had passed, though none were about, as the sky was blue and almost cloudless. Rogaan looked to see what had become of Im’Kas and the black-cloaked rider. What he saw left him staring in awe. Both were cloaked in brilliant blue light and tossing about arm-length streaks of what looked like lightning when they struck at each other in titanic battle of sword play. Living arcs of lightning rolled over the two as they struck and countered -- blades and strikes so quick, that Rogaan wondered how it was possible for them to make their bodies move so. A deep sense of being outclassed in every way, and mortal in the presences of giants, of dark terror, shook Rogaan. He felt something he had not known since his youngest days…uncontrolled fear. What was I thinking…to become Kiuri’Ner and have my name known? Rogaan realized all his dreams, his ambitions, were for naught…and worse, that others might pay a coin and their lives for believing in him. I am no match for this world. Rogaan’s self-doubt and pity lasted a moment before he was yanked backward, stumbling and twisting as he was, to get his feet under him and keep his face from plowing the dirt, again. Trundiir pulled him along at a brisk walk while carrying an unmoving Suhd under his other thick arm. He carried her as if she weighed a feather.

  “Get to your sarig,” Trundiir commanded. “We must leave while we have the moment.”

  “Suhd...?” Rogaan found it hard to ask if she were injured or worse. His heart sank as he looked at her limp body.

  “She is alive,” Trundiir answered then barked, “Move.”

  Rogaan just stared at Suhd and worried. A slap to his head from Trundiir smarted a considerable amount, but shook him from his melancholy.

  “I need your focus, Rogaan, son of Mithraam.” Trundiir emphasized his name and linage in the tellen way.

  Kardul and the others were already mounting their shaken sarigs when Rogaan, led by Trundiir, reached his steed, lying a short set of strides from where he had fallen. The animal was not going anywhere. Its neck was snapped and head lying at an odd angle. Panic surged through him. He stared at his steed, not knowing what to do. Rogaan felt lost, and despaired. Ruumoor reined up next to him, offering his hand. Rogaan became angry at himself for giving in to his dread so easily. He did not know how long he stood there battling his inner voice screaming for him to give up, lie down…surrender. Rogaan felt lost…in the Wilds and in his heart. Still, he fought his dread, not for a great cause or for others. He did not like the feeling of giving up, surrendering. Maybe it was his pride, or maybe it was his sense of responsibility to see Suhd and Pax out of the trouble he brought them into…maybe it was both. He did not know. Rogaan looked up to see Ruumoor sitting atop his sarig with a hand extended to him.

  “Hurry, Tellen,” Ruumoor demanded.

  Rogaan accepted the sharur’s assistance up to the rear saddle, where he quickly lodged his boots into footholds and butt onto the worked hide seat. Ruumoor kicked at his steed, urging it off at a quick trot. Concerned for Suhd and Pax, Rogaan looked for them. He found Suhd again asleep in her netted bed on the side of Trundiir’s steed, now galloping ahead. Pax sat behind Adul, galloping ahead of Suhd and Trundiir. Ishmu and Kardul pulled up alongside Ruumoor and Rogaan, flanking them; both of their steeds were bleeding from wounds.

  “The sarigs will live long enough to get us away from here,” Kardul announced, then gave a command before kicking his sarig, urging it into a run. “Move!”

  “Still want a Kiuri’Ner’s life?” Ishmu asked with a sly smirk before urging his steed ahead at a run.

  Rogaan was taken aback by the sharur’s words. What did he mean by that? Ruumoor dug his heels into their sarig, urging it into a gallop forcing Rogaan to grab onto the saddle handles to keep from falling off. As they quickly retreated into the forest, Rogaan looked back, curious to see what was becoming of the two warriors. Who would or should win the battle, Rogaan did not know. He was not certain of much, anymore. Strokes of lighting and fire filled the space in between Im’Kas and the dark rider. Rogaan watched the display in awe. Dirt, ferns, flowers, and shrubs flew into the air everywhere their powers struck, burning and blackening heaps of debris in their path. Ruumoor abruptly steered their sarig behind a cover of trees, causing Rogaan to lose sight of the battle. Strangely, he felt disappointed then chastised himself for it. Crackling and thundering continued as they rode into the unknown. Then the air fell silent, all except for the labored breath of their sarig. Rogaan started to relax in the saddle…just a little. His thoughts turned inward, turned gloomy. Outmatched by just about everyone in almost every way, he felt he should not be here. What was to become of himself, Suhd, and Pax? After the past several days, Rogaan felt overwhelmed at living and walking the stories of glory and battle. These things did not happen to folks outside of fireside tales and books. Fear filled him when he thought of becoming a Kiuri’Ner. Rogaan did not know if he wanted that life as protector of the pathways any longer, or if he was worthy of it…if he could survive it. Rogaan felt uncertain about most things, now. His romanticized vision and expectation of life beyond the safety of his life not more than a week ago was nothing like this. Folks were dying, and everything seemed to want him dead, and he had witnessed with his own eyes powers that should not be possible.

  Rogaan shook his head as he grew angry with his self-doubts and fears. Pax’s and Suhd’s parents needed rescuing, and his father, too, needed him. Rogaan did not unde
rstand everything that was happening or if he would be able to make anything right. He felt little. This diminished vision of himself angered him. Rogaan fought with himself and his despair. Those he cared for needed help. As he and his friends rode into the unknown forest, led by companions they knew little of, Rogaan resolved in his head and his heart…despite being small in the world, to see their parents free.

  Epilogue

  A New Waking

  Distant noises grew louder, some rhythmic and soothing, others not. Muffled voices came and went without a sense of time. No up or down, being weightless, felt confusing. Where am I? More voices, some that direction, others in another direction. Did something touch me? What was it? Noises, now closer, became more distinct, more rhythmic. I know that sound…that beeping. Am I? A familiar voice grew louder.

  “Leave us be,” the male voice demanded. “You have no business being here.”

  “Our business gives us authorization to be anywhere we need to be,” replied a female voice reeking with overconfident disdain. “Has she regained consciousness?”

  The woman’s voice fell silent. Only the rhythmic beeping remained -- constant, even. Something brushed again her skin. Where, she couldn’t tell. She felt disoriented, and without a solid body.

  “Interesting…” the female voice toyed.

  “Damn you!” The familiar male voice was angry. “Get your hands away from her.”

  “This is where you say… ‘or else,’ isn’t it?” the female voice challenged. Her voice then softened a little, if that were possible. “You will tell us when she wakes. There are many questions. Her PDA somehow ended up zeroed of personal history. Any idea how that happened?”

  “Just leave.” The familiar male voice still held an angry heat.