Viktor

by Francesco Leo

  She smiled, gave a quick nod and went to the old man’s house.

  Viktor looked annoyed at not having received the same invitation.

  “What’s the matter, young man?” the hermit gazed at him with curiosity.

  “I thought I had the right to rest a little too, that’s all ...”

  “Could you tell me why you came all the way here, then?”

  “To be trained…but I don’t think I’m following you …”

  “Your enemy won’t wait for you to rest and be ready to fight: your training begins now,” the elf answered.

  Before Viktor could realize what was happening, he felt a powerful force strike him and throw him backwards.

  His bags rolled into the air and fell to the ground, and he did too.

  “Let’s see what you’ve learned so far,” the mentor challenged.

  Viktor put his hand on Siride and pulled it out. Soon after, he began to run towards the hermit, the sword ready to strike.

  “I’m not your opponent,” the elf pointed out, disappearing just before Viktor could strike him; he appeared a little further on, on one of the dunes that surrounded the oasis. “Plamare!”

  Long swords of earth emerged from the sand.

  Viktor waited for a moment, then advanced.

  The blades began to attack him.

  The chosen one began to fight off these attacks but the rhythm seemed to be more and more pressing and he knew that soon he wouldn’t be able to control the sand weapons.

  “Gaedra!” he shouted, summoning a shell of sand from the earth in which he retreated to defend himself.

  He felt the blows of the sandy blades against the shell in search of a breach in the defence.

  “A good move, but it will not help you for long. Soon your defences will be exhausted with your mana,” observed the hermit, coming down from the dune he was on.

  “Ràsumi,” said the young man.

  The mentor smiled.

  As he struck Viktor’s protective shell, the sand that the swords were made of was drawn to the chosen one by smoothing the blades and absorbing their magical energy.

  With a broad smile, the hermit set off the spells in sand tides that spilled all over the desert.

  “Good idea to get mana from my weapons. In this way you guaranteed your shield to stay high and naturalize the swords.”

  “Slowly, Viktor’s protective sphere began to crumble to show the boy inside, with beads of sweat on his forehead.

  “Are you tired?” I wanted to go on a little longer,” the hermit pricked.

  Viktor nodded and staggered towards him.

  ”My adversary will not wait for me to be ready to fight I believe ...” the young man recalled.

  “Well said,” the elf asserted as water arrows materialized around him. “I never told you to remove your shield,” he said with a reproachful note.

  Instantly, the arrows darted towards the chosen one.

  Viktor flung himself aside to avoid a handful, but saw more coming.

  “Geera!” he shouted, and in front of him a great wall of ice materialized and the darts crashed against it.

  “Irruentàlis!” the hermit cried, causing the adversary’s ice wall to explode in many fragments.

  “Flama!” threatened Viktor by conjuring a ball of angry fire on his left hand.

  The mentor, without being intimidated by Viktor’s attack, formed a long spear from the sand and threw it at him.

  Viktor leaned slightly on his legs, like a cat ready to pounce and the ball of fire shone.

  While the spear ran the distance that separated him from the elf, he lost control of himself.

  That weapon, so similar to Devendorth’s Erendil, reminded him of the night they had fought against Turin. The cries of the frightened infant Selene remained with, the rush toward Vroel and Devanorth to help them, the destructive power of fire and water.

  Then Devanorth had fallen into the void from the dock.

  Ernedil had disappeared in the jaws of the great snake that, agonizing, sank into the waters of Mephis.

  The member of the Star’s body lying in Vroel’s arms in the centre of the lake bathed in the light of dawn was the last scene before a more painful one.

  Devanorth had eclipsed forever when his crystal shrine swallowed him.

  Viktor’s eyes widened and he returned to the present.

  The sphere of fire bolted against the sand spear and, in a turbulence of flames and sparks, it exploded into a thousand splinters of burning glass that dissolved just before touching the ground.

  Fortunately, before losing control, he managed to launch his blow against the enemy’s spell.

  “You mustn’t let yourself be deceived by the past. If your enemy reads your mind, he would use all your fears, every means to destroy you. You will learn how to defend yourself from mental attacks,” the old man said, placing a wrinkled hand on his right arm.

  “For now it can be enough. You have a lot to learn, but you’re on your way. Let’s go home, it will soon be time for dinner and you have to clean up.”

  The elf walked away without waiting for Viktor, while the latter, on his knees, got up to follow him.

  “Not bad, not bad at all,” he said, as a satisfied look was slowly going over his face.

  The house was small, but hospitable and warm thanks to magic, even when outside the temperatures were lower.

  In brick and wood, it had a circular shape. Beyond the entrance, spiral staircases led upstairs where there was a bathroom and two bedrooms; all in a small space but well organized.

  In the entrance there was a round table with stone chairs, while oriental carpets in magenta, purple and dark green covered the floorboards. Under the round windows there were lampranthus plants kept so carefully that they were impeccable.

  Against the wall, bookcases stood next to a sideboard containing plates, wooden cutlery and glasses on one side and food on the other.

  Suddenly Viktor noticed the red tunic of the Star that Amir was wearing was on a hanger next to the front door.

  She was in front of the window, wearing a shirt with a leather bodice, knee-length trousers and low boots.

  “Are you surprised that a sorceress is dressed under her tunic?” she asked, looking back at the boy.

  “No, no ... on the contrary, protecting yourself in times like these is surely more than legitimate.” The boy pointed to the bodice.

  Amir said nothing more, and neither did Viktor.

  Before dinner he just washed and changed clothes.

  Above his trousers the same colour as his boots, he pulled on a warmer cream-colored sweater because of the cold night air. He made sure the pendant of Artemisia was safe, then placed it in a drawer of the chamber he shared with Amir.

  It was the first time he had not worn it since he received it. The sun disappeared quickly and, despite the tiredness he felt immediately after having a bath, they all sat down when dinner was ready.

  “How does the Star interact with you?” Viktor inquired after starting to eat.

  “I don’t know if you have heard of divination, but …”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of it,” Viktor interrupted.

  “You know more things than I expected,” the hermit said.

  “Fortunately,” Amir responded.

  “Anyway, I was trying to answer your question. See that mirror in the background placed over the bookcases? Well, the Star and I keep in communication with it and discuss what to do,” he explained.

  “I knew that divination takes place by means of a pool of water ...”

  “It happens through any surface that reflects the reality we are in,” the hermit pointed out.

  “I see ...” Viktor nodded, biting into a piece of bread.

  “Your training made you hungry,” noted the elf.

  Viktor was embarrassed and allowed the eagerness with which he was eating to quench.

  “Before training I took a long walk in the desert,” he chuckled, trying to justif
y himself.

  “Eat, eat as you see fit, don’t worry,” said the hermit quietly.

  Amir let out an unusual laugh that Viktor noticed and appreciated.

  “You know, sometimes I wonder what the chosen one would have done if the Star’s Organization had never existed. Who would train them? Who would explain their tasks to them? Everything would have been simpler for Zergh.”

  For a moment, silence fell in the room; Amir continued to eat and the elf placed the spoon in his hand on the edge of the plate.

  He took a long drink of water, then looked at Viktor with pragmatic eyes. “Obviously, if the Star had never existed, there would have been no need for you to be there.”

  Viktor’s curiosity was piqued by those confused words.

  “At the dawn of time, when the events of the War of Oblivion took place, the gods chose the one who was supposed to found the Organization of the Star. This group of elements would bring the chosen one to the place where Arald rested and help him to defeat the god that had betrayed the other seven.” The hermit’s eyes were lost in scenes from the past that his mind evoked, then he went on: “The deities created a young body conveying in it all the desires of those who wanted the end of Zergh. But this human body disappeared when the Organisation was ready and so one of its selected members came in charge. Since then the Star has never seen the young boy the Organisation had created: no trace of him was ever found. There are various theses about this disappearance, including the boy’s death.”

  “The boy?” asked Viktor.

  “The deities gathered the hope of every living being in the body of a young human, to preserve its characteristics forever. However, the thesis of death is out of the question: the deities would have known that their creation had been destroyed.”

  “Well, but the gods no longer interacted in any way with the races after the end of the War of Oblivion, right? They could have known, but kept it to themselves. They see, they know what is happening and they are sure that they know where the person they placed the hopes of an entire existence is.”

  “This is true, but the death of the young man of hope would have had repercussions on everything, wouldn’t it? Even if the deities had continued to remain in their place, surely all peoples would have noticed a change, because, indeed, there would have been a change. It would be like exploding a sphere of energy without the possibility of containing it,” observed the elf.

  “The way to get to Zergh is not as short as you thought, Viktor,” Amir said, who had been listening until then.

  “The boy we talked about ... what was his name?” asked the chosen one.

  The hermit massaged his long beard for a few seconds before answering. “I think he was called Edgar. Yes, Edgar was his name.”

  A PLACE IN MEMORIES

  E dgar’s story brought back memories of a parallel life. A life in which one would never have dreamed of saving the future from oblivion; a life with your family, Trust and Selene.

  He still remembered the last time he had talked about Edgar. He had done it with Selene, on his father’s wagon, while, along with Trust, they headed for Beleth for the Great Talents fair.

  He still remembered the tears the girl spilled and the bitterness in remembering a friend you could have expected anything from except disappearing unexpectedly. He would never forgive him, nor would Selene.

  “He could have told us.”

  While trying to find the most comfortable position in bed, he tried to drive those thoughts away, but sleep came late, when the stars of the night had reached the peak of their splendour.

  ******

  The old hermit stood contemplating the sky listening to the sound that the sporadic wind carried with it.

  Someone behind him was bent over scrutinizing the ground.

  The figure ran a handful of sand between his fingers, then scrubbed the remaining grains from his hands.

  “By my troth, I was hoping to see you one more time before I reached Valhalla.”

  “And with my image in your eyes, you will reach it,” replied the apparition.

  “Am I so important as to consider myself a threat? You flatter me.”

  “You’ve never been. However, I cannot allow your pupil to finish training. We have waited a long time to attack and now we will kill you and him. The Star will grope in chaos after the loss of their chosen one and will not have the strength to react: Zergh will return and we of the Daedalus will reign with him in a new world. A world without weaknesses that even the seven of the Divine Council will have to accept.”

  “Your goals predict a world without weaknesses, but it is with the same weakness that you want to get there,” the hermit pointed out.

  “Yes. The weakness aroused by your fear, the fear of facing Zergh. The weakness you carry are the blindfolds that didn’t allow you to see the truth!”

  “Enough, old man!” exclaimed the silhouette, advancing under the moonlight.

  He had wide eyes, thin lips, and deep pitch-black furrows around his eyes with dark irises.

  His expression voiced security but also folly and contempt. A light-coloured armour contrasted with the long straight hair as dark as the night.

  “Tonight the weak ones will be you! There are many new adepts with me and you’re alone with your boy.”

  The man came to the hermit’s side.

  “Where there is only one member of the Star, the Star is alive. And the Star, dear Remenant, will not bow to the Daedalus of Death.”

  “We’ll see. You’ll be the first to bow, and you’ll do it tonight!” he said, punching him.

  The elf kept steady with his cane and didn’t fall. Remenant put his hand on the hilt of a long sword that he had at his side.

  “Do you want to use steel to kill me? You’ll need much less and you know it. I’m no longer in a position to thwart your skills, I’ll grant you that,” the hermit said wiping off a trickle of blood that gushed from his broken lip.

  “Oh, I know that. I wanted hard-earned victory, but since you seem to be offering it on a silver platter, I’ll be happy to take your life without hesitating,” Remenant said, placing his left hand on the elf’s head. “Nocturna,” he said slowly chanting the syllables.

  Cries of pain arose in the silent night.

  ******

  Selene was studying the old notes that Elaine had given her on some alchemical infusions.

  “Where are you going?” she asked when she saw her leave the room.

  “Galaeth has requested my presence. He’s with Jasmina in the Circular Room.”

  Selene caught something in her eyes and had the impression that something was wrong. “I get it. See you later.”

  She felt a cold shiver running down her back and she whirled around.

  She felt another presence in the room and the atmosphere made her very uncomfortable.

  She jerked and turned sideways when she heard someone talking behind her.

  “This place has never changed from how it was in my memories. And you haven’t either.”

  Selene felt faint when she looked at her interlocutor straight in his sapphire eyes.

  Edgar was leaning against a table next to the bed. The initial discomfort gave way to an uncontrolled rage and the girl ran to him hitting him hard in the chest. “Why did you disappear? What are you doing here and how did you get here? You’re an idiot without criteria! You know how much you meant to me, I didn’t deserve it! I didn’t deserve to suffer so much!”

  Edgar winked as the girl continued hitting him, then he gently grabbed her wrists. “I know this place more than you imagine. However, there is no time to explain: you wouldn’t understand. I’m sorry about what happened, but every choice of mine had a valid reason. Now I need you to trust me,” he said, looking sadly at Selene’s face.

  The girl stopped wriggling and he let her wrists go.

  “No. No I can’t trust you, I’m sorry,” she admitted.

  “You can’t,” he repeated confused.

  �
�No. Come on, do you think you can show up suddenly and be what you were for me once? Life isn’t as simple as you think, you know? Disappearing and reappearing without an explanation: immature, that’s what you are. You can’t distinguish a right from a duty,” she snapped, her voice trembling with anger.

  “Don’t accuse me of not knowing the difficulties of life! You’ll have the answers you’re looking for, but you have to listen to me one last time.”

  “You said you cared for me. You even spoke to Viktor about us, and you knew I wanted to avoid it as long as possible. I didn’t know how he would have taken it, he was used to always having me by his side. We were lifetime friends…”

  “I still care about you!” exclaimed Edgar nervously.

  “Oh, come on! You kissed me to make me believe how much I meant to you then you disappeared the next day without even the slightest warning! You made fun of me, Edgar… I suffered so much for you and, maybe, I’ve never stopped suffering.”

  Edgar took a deep breath, without speaking.

  “Yeah, don’t talk. Shut up. Hide everything inside as you’ve always done!” Selene shouted, starting to cry. “Do you know how much I wanted to share with you everything that went through your mind. You never listened to me, you always acted alone…”

  He hugged her and, though Selene opposed at first, she surrendered slowly.

  “Sometimes you get to love a person so much that the only way to keep her safe is to let her go. If my nature had been different, maybe everything would have been fine. Everything would have gone as it goes between two lovers. But not for us. Not for me.”

  Edgar’s words opened an even bigger gap in Selene’s soul. “Why? Just give me a valid reason for all this. What is your nature?”

  “I’m not here for this now.”

  “Fantastic, continue. Take your time, I’m starting to get used to it,” Selene snapped, breaking his embrace abruptly with a thrust.

  “I don’t have time to stay. My coming here must be hidden: I shouldn’t be in this place. Even if you don’t understand, I care about you and even about the friendship between Viktor and me. I’m here to leave a message.”

  The girl looked him in the eyes holding a grudge and full of anger. “What would your message be?”