Prophecy's Quest

by A. S. Hamilton

  Real people could bleed.

  And bleed he had, proof that he was no longer untouchable. But most of all…

  Real people…

  Real people…

  Could.

  Be.

  Killed.

  Chapter 12

  Day 28 – Just Before Sunset

  Jagrery Ranges Rebel Base

  Brynn paused, feeling a little out of breath. He did not want to admit that perhaps this time he had been a little over-ambitious in deciding to follow the upper path along the cliff face. He had thought he was up to a slightly longer walk today, but this route was proving a little more challenging than he anticipated. He could see an alcove just up ahead, there would be seats there. The young mage pushed himself away from the wall and, leaning heavily on his cane, carved in the shape of a dragon, made his way up the path.

  Most of the Jagrery rebel base was underground with tunnels to access look-out points, secluded groves and gardens, training areas, and pastures. The hospice was positioned close to an orchard with seating areas for patients, but Brynn had wanted to explore the tree-lined, cliff-hugging path. One of the nurses had told him that it had viewing platforms with seats and shelter at regular intervals that looked out onto breath-taking views, but that was not his only reason for selecting it. The nurse had also said that it was not highly frequented and the young mage wanted some solitude and a private place to grieve.

  Brynn reached the alcove and carefully lowered himself to one of two benches. He appreciated the peace, he needed the time alone to think as well as coming to terms with Riqu's passing. The elvan set aside eight days for the ceremonies honouring those who had passed, although the war meant that this ceremony had to be adapted. It traditionally started with the preparation of the departed's vessel and the Song of Loss, which was continued for four days, and during which kin had time to visit and say their farewells. Due to Brynn's extensive injuries, they had continued Riqu's song for a fifth day so he could attend the ascension ceremony. This was when a ghi-ja-toroon mage, a spiritual guide, transformed the vessel into a fine dust, some of which was used to plant a tree or flower in the name of the person who had passed, the rest was placed in a kiln-like vessel called a bria-yanah. Using a combination of herbs and drakonfary and rosefelt woods the dust would rise through the flue of the bria-yanah while attendees sang the Song of Transition, which was followed by a four-day banquet accompanied by story-telling and songs of celebration. With the war, many times this ceremony had to be delayed and shortened as well as accommodating large groups. With rationing, a banquet was not feasible and, oft-times, the best the elvan could do was an abbreviated version of the songs of grief, transition, and celebration.

  Seventy-eight people had died in the valley battle and Riqu's was not the only death being mourned. As most had no kin they went on the ascension journey as a group. Brynn had attended at least one day of story-telling, which honoured the dead by sharing memories with those who knew the departed or through the ghi-ja-toroon mage accessing their paths of the past.

  All those he saw called him a hero, but Brynn did not feel in the least heroic and, unfortunately, his attendances only increased the praise of others. It seemed the more he objected, the more highly they thought of him, but it just reminded him of the mistakes that had led to these deaths.

  She had warned him of this. She had asked him how many lives would be sacrificed…

  'Ah, you are, indeed, tucked away.'

  'Leyhera…' Brynn looked up and gave the journey-walker a brief smile, although he was afraid it might have looked more like a grimace.

  'I am very sorry to disturb you.'

  'You would not have sought me out if it was not important. Please,' Brynn gestured to the nearby bench, 'have a seat.'

  'You are right,' the journey-walker said as he sat down in a cross-legged position. 'I have two concerns of significance, both of them regarding Sariah.'

  Leyhera's statement was not entirely unexpected, Brynn knew the journey-walker had knowledge on Sariah's history, knowledge Brynn had asked him to keep to himself when he saw the journey-walker before lying down for a rest at Sal-Cirus. He knew that eventually Leyhera would want a proper explanation.

  'Two concerns? I was aware of only one,' Brynn said.

  'Well, one I only became aware of just recently and I think it needs priority because I fear for her well-being.'

  This revelation made Brynn frown in concern. 'She seemed fine when I saw her last, but I must admit, while I am recovering, I have not been using my talents to preserve my energy, so I can only go by appearances.'

  'That is just it, she appears well enough. I have been helping organise the volunteer rosters and the way she has been volunteering for every possible shift at the hospice gives the impression she has endless energy.'

  'But?'

  'But she moves less… smoothly?' Leyhera looked uncertain as he tried to think of how to explain what he had observed. 'She is more rigid in her movements,' he clarified. 'And she seems to be favouring one side, like—'

  'Like someone who is injured,' Brynn finished and received a nod.

  'She often grimaces whenever she has to reach for something, and when I was working with her last eve she was avoiding stairs.'

  Brynn sighed. 'She did not see a healer. I told her to see one.'

  'She is of the nature to put other's needs before hers,' Leyhera said, 'and it could be that in blaming herself for Riqu's loss, she does not seek attendance to her injuries as a form of penance.'

  The suggestion made Brynn groan — with Sariah, that could be exactly what she was doing. Then a thought occurred to him. 'You said Sariah's been volunteering, that would not be with the burns patients, would it?'

  His question received a nod and then Leyhera said, 'I think she just volunteered in general and just happened to be rostered on in intensive care. At least, that is the impression I got from my conversation with her.'

  Brynn grumbled softly, then said aloud, 'There are little coincidences where Sariah is concerned. She determines her own path.'

  Leyhera gave him a bemused look.

  'As you know, Sariah lost her parents and her sight when soldiers burned her village,' Brynn explained. 'What most people do not know is that she also suffered severe burns. She may not be punishing herself by not having her injuries tended to, Leyhera, she may be prioritising the needs of burns patients before hers. When I was in intensive care, I overheard her tell one of the nurses she had training in handling burns injuries. With such training, she would consider herself more useful helping patients than taking time to have her injuries seen to or taking a healer away from a patient she perceives as having a more urgent need.'

  Leyhera shook his head in wonder. 'Whatever her motive, I fear she is seriously ill. The nurses often remind the volunteers of the dangers of infection and the signs we should look for. Sariah looked pale and sweaty when I saw her today. I suspect she has a fever too, but she would not let me check. She insists she is fine. Not just to me, but to the nurses who ask. That was why I decided to bring it to you. I thought you might have more success with convincing her to let a healer look at her.'

  The young mage nodded. 'I will go and see her after we have talked.'

  Day 28 – Evening

  Haranvale Woods

  Colnba watched the stars through the skylight he had created above Nisari's make-shift bed. He could not give her a real bed, linen or pillows, but he could give her the stars. The irony depressed him.

  'Was Malithorn's reprimand overly taxing?' Nisari asked, sympathy in her tone.

  'Actually, he was ecstatic. Riqumorgia's death brought him immense delight. I did receive an extensive lecture and the hours of questioning and strategising was beyond tedious. But he managed not to kill anyone, so I consider it a blessing of Fate. Liacoren was worse. She is concerned about the lightning getting through the mage shields. She also does not like be left out of battle to babysit Malithorn.'

  Nisari sno
rted. 'If any other dared suggest another mage should do it, she would verbally flail them.'

  'She resents the influence I have on Malithorn,' Colnba noted dryly.

  'A good thing it is you who deals with him, then. If I were to have extended contact with him, she would probably poison me. What of the Saviour? What was Malithorn's reaction to losing him?'

  'Foul, but that was to be expected. Of course, he had Liacoren measured my truthfulness while he made extensive inquiry as to the Saviour's current location. I passed their examination though, regardless of my lack of veracity.'

  Nisari raised her brows. 'You know where he is?'

  'In the Jagrery Ranges at the rebel base there.'

  Of course, Nisari thought, Colnba had not been able to share the information with her until now because it would have made it harder for him to hide the information from Liacoren. 'My instincts say we should strike at him while he is vulnerable and distracted by grief.' Nisari said. 'But my soul cannot be so callous, out of respect for Riqumorgia, if nothing else.'

  'At the moment, Nisari, you have the best chance of getting to him. Once the rebels take you fully into their organisation you will be able to get close to the Saviour,' Colnba pointed out. 'Until then, I will manage Malithorn's demands as best I can.'

  Nisari scowled. Colnba knew she hated being subservient to someone like Malithorn. It was not his race that bothered her. It was Malithorn's kind she disliked — the ones who hated, who enjoyed the pain of others, and who killed without reason or respect.

  Colnba rolled to his side, propping his head up with one hand and reaching out to his rahn with the other. Tenderly, he ran a finger along her chin. Sensing her apprehension, he said, 'Fear not, ena-ra, I will not let him separate us.'

  Nisari caught up his hand and held it under her chin. 'You cannot guarantee that; our prophecy was seen by the same child who saw his...'

  'Ah, yet, despite her reputation, even Toormeena's visions can take a new direction, we know that already. Sarre lived, did he not? He was supposed to die that day. She saw it. Yet the Tiengara lord still haunts these planes. Our path will change too.'

  'It is common for a vision to change direction. Seers know that. Only those who do not understand the nature of them make the mistake of perceiving a vision that does not come out exactly as prophecised as being a failure of the seer. Toormeena knows that. She finds it very frustrating that people look at her track record and judge her as a 'good' seer because more often than not, her visions come about.'

  'That is my point,' Colnba said. 'Our path can change, we can find a means to alter our prophecy.'

  Restlessly, Nisari turned onto her back, her beautiful features creased with distress. 'I would rather not discuss it.' She gave him a small smile, 'Despite all the charm and smooth tones with which you wrap the conversation. You are here, after all, and that is a boon that should not be wasted.'

  Colnba pulled himself against her side, savouring the feel of her warmth. It was not illusion or mind-will. He had planes-shifted. It was the only true way he could avoid Malithorn and Liacoren and rest. Nisari's spirit was able to amplify his recovery, a boon of being rahn.

  'How is Matthias?' Nisari asked, changing the subject.

  The question caused Colnba to huff disconsolately. 'He remains in a catatonic state. I cannot figure out why I can move myself through the planes but cannot move another without this sort of result.'

  'It is not exactly an easy talent to master,' Nisari consoled. 'We are not natural planes-walkers and do not have any formal training. But I just had an inspiration.'

  'Oh?'

  'We have just recently gained access to someone who does have training in planes-walking.'

  'Linuk will never agree to help us.'

  Nisari frowned in thought. 'You may be right, but Matthias' situation will not change if we ask and are denied. If we can find the right words, provide the right incentive, she may help and he will have his life again.'

  Colnba nodded. 'That is true. It is worth thinking through and finding those words and that incentive.'

  They were silent for several minutes as they both considered the how best to approach Linuk. Then, Colnba pushed himself up to lean on his elbow. 'He did it, you know,' he announced, his deep tone marred by annoyance.

  'Who did what?'

  'The Saviour. He pulled Riqumorgia's daughter and her horse through the planes, without mishap.' Colnba waved his hand in a frustrated gesture. 'Not only this, but the child stored his horse there!' he ranted in disbelief. 'Just filed it away until he had time to see to its safety. The only reason I came so close to defeating him was that he expended so much energy early on. Even at the end, I was almost certain he could restore Riqumorgia.'

  Nisari reached up and stroked his hair, tucking a loose lock behind his ear. 'Do not compare yourself to him. We have the same potential for greatness, our prophecy showed us that.'

  Colnba smiled. 'I am not the only one with charm.'

  Nisari rolled to her side, allowing Colnba to curl about her. 'And do not blame yourself for Riqumorgia. He made the decision to interfere, he knew the risks of doing so.'

  Colnba tisked. 'Not even you believe those words, Nisari...'

  Her sigh was confirmation. 'I will miss him.'

  'So will I. He spoke truly, he and Diannra never wronged us.'

  'We cannot choose our own deaths, can we!' Nisari exclaimed in a soft tone of despair, 'For there is death if we do not submit to Abbarane's will. And if the Saviour follows his intended path... death awaits there, too. We have lost so many of those bloodlines that Hahn and Vey-ghel-a-rai brought here for the founding. Each one is not just the loss of a House, but of history and culture and the stable, healthy future of our race.'

  Rather than try to answer, Colnba pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, trying not to think for a few moments.

  'What if I cannot get to him in time to stop him,' Nisari's voice sounded very small and timid.

  'There is still a chance to get her, for I know her now. I know where she is.'

  'The Saviour's rahn? The spirit you found on the battlefield. Did he not connect with her?'

  'He did,' Colnba confirmed, 'but she rejected him and that has given us more time.'

  Nisari felt his regret and her own feelings echoed it. For their people shaen-duura was sacred, and despite this turn of events being to their advantage, they knew the pain of separation when one's spirit was shared with another.

  'We will kill them both, then? We cannot allow one to suffer on their own?' she whispered.

  'No. We will not leave one to suffer. We will take them both.'

  Day 28 – Evening

  Jagrery Ranges Rebel Base

  'I respected the request you made not to share my knowledge concerning Sariah,' Leyhera said, feeling a little uncomfortable. This was the Saviour, after all, and he was about to ask him to explain himself. 'But I have made further discoveries to which, I believe, Sariah has a right.'

  'And you want me to justify my request.'

  Back when they were at Sal-Cirus, after they had made plans to rescue the harem slaves, Sariah had gone to lie down. It gave Sarre the opportunity to fill Brynn in on the intelligence he had gathered in his undercover role in Ancoulan as the human mage Regen. That was when Leyhera had woken. The journey-walker had offered to make ti-esca-in-ati if Sarre could get the ingredients. As it had been a long time since they had eaten a traditional elvan meal, Sarre agreed and left to get the supplies, leaving Brynn alone with the journey-walker.

  Knowing that Leyhera had met Sariah as a child, Brynn was aware he had been investigating Sariah's history since then. Having looked into Sariah's past himself, Brynn knew about her heritage. It was unsurprising that Leyhera, who was not only curious by nature, but drawn to mysteries, had been intrigued by Sariah's history. Just as he was persistent in revealing the mysteries of The Prophecy, Leyhera had been equally dedicated to unravelling Sariah's past. When
Sarre had left them alone, Brynn had asked Leyhera not to tell Sariah of his investigations, but had given no details as to why.

  Leyhera gave Brynn an assessing look and decided that he was not being confrontational, and, so, he continued his explanation. 'Sariah asked me to investigate the death of her parents. After believing her brother dead and then discovering he was alive, it is understandable that she wanted confirmation. But my investigation brings me into conflict with your wishes.'

  'I—' Brynn stopped to clutch his side. 'Muscle spasm,' he said in a tight, strained voice.

  'Take your time,' the journey-walker told him. Then, after a moment, he asked, 'Are you sure you are up to this? I could help you back to your room.'

  Brynn shook his head vigorously and held up his free hand. Leyhera fell silent and waited patiently.

  When he recovered Brynn said, 'It is more private here. And as I have assured everyone many times already, I will be fine. I was a little ambitious walking up here, but I can rest while we talk.'

  The journey-walker picked up the edge in Brynn's voice. He judged that while Brynn appreciated the intention behind the enquiries, he was exasperated by having to give repeated assurances. Considering those same people viewed him as not just an ordinary elvan but the prophecised saviour, their anxiety would be heightened by seeing their hero-figure injured, requiring extra assurances.

  'It must be very difficult, having to appear strong with injuries like the ones you suffered.'

  Brynn hesitated to respond, he knew Leyhera had seen The Prophecy — and more, the journey-walker had viewed the actual path, not just a vision.

  'There is no need to say anything. I know you are still working through everything Toormeena told you. What I admire is that, despite your own dilemmas, you recognise that when people look at you, they see the Saviour. You are thoughtful in only ever presenting a strong image to them, placing their morale above your personal comfort because seeing you gives them hope after decades of despair and near annihilation. I hope you realise, it is quite permissible for you not to maintain that façade here. Having seen The Prophecy, I know just how strong you are, I need no proof.'