Book of Kayal: Houses of Light

by S. Nileson

  “Follow him to your quarters, Archer. The other two will stay with me for now.”

  Archer was reluctant to leave his two companions, but he now knew that choice has been stripped from him the moment he had entered Katabasis. All he could do was comply with an evil countess threatening his allies. Keshish acted like an angel, but seemed to be a devil, Archer thought, a devil who selflessly cared for Balta and I.

  2

  Katabasis was a safe haven to all who sought to learn practical knowledge, as Asclepius often said to distinguish it from the Parthan School of Knowledge which offered a great deal when it came to theoretical education. There were no research restrictions, allowing many taboo sciences and arts to be thoroughly investigated, as long as it lead to a practical application; and this made it a promising institute to all those who sought a better understanding of necromancy or to escape a troubled path.

  When Asclepius was released from his imprisonment by the Gallecian Council, during the Second Civil War of Man and after Servak’s victory over the Gallecians, he was given unrestricted dominion over Katabasis Keep, formally restoring the authority he once had before his sentence. This, along with Asclepius’ vast power, made Katabasis immune to the Empire’s politics and intrigue. Once accepted into Ganis’ domain, inherited from Asclepius, those in Katabasis became untouchable.

  Countess Ganis herself had a price on her head by many a mysterious entity which attracted the interest of bounty hunters and other dangerous folk. The price, many knew, was far too little for such a difficult target to kill. Only those desperate or stupid enough would attempt to collect such prize. Ganis had no objections to being such a lucrative target, for it gave her a steady supply of test subjects for her disciples’ experiments. Some even speculated that the bounty on Ganis’ head was placed by the Countess herself, but none ever managed to prove or disprove such accusations.

  There were few rules in Katabasis, the most important was to abide by Ganis’ wishes, different for each visitor, and the second was to hide any signs of divine worship. Ganis though - as her deceased master convinced her - that strong faith had a tendency to suppress free though, and that went against everything Katabasis stood for. Anyone who broke those two rules were always sentenced to exile - yet few lived long enough to have the judgement enforced – and those who did not were often viewed by those unfamiliar with Katabasis Keep and its disciples with much skepticism as their loyalties were always in question.

  As instructed by Ganis, Archer spent his days training in the arts of war. Being once trained by the finest weapon specialists in the land, he was a quick study. His comfort with strategy, however, is what made him excel among his peers, whom felt uneasy at his mysterious and sudden appearance. Older students directed him though his lessons as they themselves were directed by their predecessors when they were in Archer’s place. The system, although subject to much debate, had been successful so far.

  For many a day Archer trained without ever getting a chance to speak to Ganis, or to hear from Balta and Ascilla. It was a source of great worry for the young man, but rarely was he allowed the luxury of time to feed his concerns. This changed one night when Archer had finished his training earlier than most days. He had just come back from the library and was preparing to wash off the day’s work with the little water sent to him in a small wooden bucket.

  “May I come in?” Ganis entered Archer’s room without waiting for a response; rather without giving him the opportunity to reject her imposition. As the wooden heel of her boots struck the stone floor Archer felt his heart beating to the unpleasant rhythm. “It seems you’re not as fragile as you appeared to be. That is a pleasant surprise.” She walked around his small room and went to take a quick look from his small glass window. She wore the same colors as before, a crimson robe with a black pattern of thorned vines climbing from the bottom right edge of the robe to her right shoulder. The vines thinned the higher they went until they led to a single black rose which marked the pattern’s end.

  “It has been difficult with the others taunting me.” Archer stopped undressing, leaving his black leather jacket halfway opened, which allowed the smell of his hard work to escape and remind him of just how urgent it was for him to wash. The smell, however, left Ganis unphased.

  “That behavior is encouraged for it sparks competition amongst the disciples. Just don’t give them a chance to mock you.”

  “I’m not sure what else I can do.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No.”

  “It is because you study under a disadvantage.” She walked halfway back to the door and stopped at a rough wooden chair tucked under a small wooden table with only a candle on it. The fresh candle was unlit and stood too polished at the table’s right corner to fit in with the rest of the room’s contents. “The other disciples have all been rune-carved and the full potential of their minds, bodies and spirits unleashed.”

  “Then this is no place for one as ordinary as me.”

  She looked at him for a moment, holding her tongue as she contemplated the extent of Archer’s knowledge about his past, and asked, “Keshish never told you anything about your past?”

  “I’m not sure it was any less obscure to him than it was to me. Yet his will, the words he spoke to me with his last dying breath, makes me wonder about the extent of his ignorance.”

  She knew all too well how concerned Archer was for his companions, how much he craved to hear from them. Ganis hummed. “Your friends are well, Archer, probably even better than you at the moment.”

  “Can I see them?” Archer asked, making no attempt to mask his excitement.

  “Pass my tests and you will be with them for as long as you wish. In fact, if you pass the tests you face here I will even support you for the remainder of you journey. For now you should only concern yourself with your studies.”

  Archer gasped in shock, for his thought of the Countess had become mixed with greatly negative and greatly positive feelings, no doubt due to his indoctrination into the culture of Katabasis. A moment of reflection made him interpret her words as an attempt to manipulate him. This was all he needed to regain his composure and clarity of mind.

  “Come here and take off your garments,” Ganis said. She walked towards the door and washed her hand in the clean water sent to Archer in the wooden bucket he had grown accustomed to.

  Archer, embarrassed by his stench, reluctantly removed his leather jacket and the cloth shirt beneath it. With no further instructions to disrobe the rest of his outfit, he approached Ganis and stood in perfect stillness. With clean hands still wet the Countess placed her palm on Archer’s chest and burned into his skin a bright red rune, a carving in a language which Archer had not yet learned. The process was not painful and Archer became less anxious at the second, third and fourth carving.

  When she was done, Ganis said, “I expected you to resist.”

  “Sorry to disappoint. May I dress now?”

  “I would recommend you wash first, but I do not judge.” She walked towards the door, leaving Archer to his privacy.

  “Wait!” Archer called. The Countess halted from her brief walk and turned her head to her right shoulder, still giving her back to the young disciple. At her pause Archer asked, “What have you given me?”

  “I have evened the odds. Tomorrow when you train it will be clear to you.” Ganis returned her gaze ahead of her and said, just as she was about to cross past the door, “Strangely enough both you and I are bound to the will of dead men. I am curious to see where your journey will take you.”

  3

  The sky above Katabasis was darker than usual and carrion birds flocked above several freshly-killed corpses. Another failed bounty hunter group which attempted to claim the reward on Ganis’ head.

  This particular band of mercenaries once belonged to the Arrokan Wolves, a Kolian mercenary group which had fought against Servak during the Second Civil War of Man and never came to be employed by anyone serving the Demi
god Emperor. After Servak consolidated his power in Nosgard many Arrokan Wolves broke off from the band and formed smaller groups, focusing on small jobs. They were amongst the most feared bounty hunters, but their reputation was much damaged by their defeat during the Peacekeepers’s cleansing of the Council’s supporters shortly after Servak’s coronation. This band, calling themselves the Arrokan Pack, thought to regain their glory by killing Ganis. Their fate, as was the fate of many such bands, was sealed once they marched on Katabasis Keep, for they could not nullify their contract without suffering a fatal blow to their credibility and they had no real chance at capturing or killing Ganis.

  Raids by such bands had become a regular occurrence in Archer’s life, not that he participated in the defending of Katabasis or even witnessed it, and news of some minor bounty hunter’s death no longer worried or excited him. Ganis’ visits, on the other hand, remained scarce.

  After living and training with his runes for some time, the Countess summoned the young disciple to her main hall, where all meetings that mattered took place.

  “Your mentors reported a steep improvement in your performance,” she said.

  “You sound surprised.” A dripping sound caught the Archer’s attention and when he looked at its source he was taken aback by what he saw. A bloodied man hung from his feet via strong iron chains attached to the wall and had many deep cuts in his flesh. His thick blood dripped freely onto his lifeless face and into a large barrel. “What is this?” Archer asked, masking his disgust well.

  She waved at the two Deadguard by the entrance to her hallway and they shut the wooden door, a muffled thump signaling a job well done. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “I would rather not be told one.”

  “Blood is life.” She pointed at the hanging corpse.

  “That is no secret.”

  She hummed and produced a fine glass from within a masterwork wooden cupboard with two dozen – less one – fine glasses clean and carefully displayed. She filled the glass with the fresh blood dripping from the man and took a sip of the warm elixir.

  Archer, having spent months in Katabasis, began to feel less discomfort in the presence of Ganis and at her bizarre actions. This new habituation, coupled with the confidence he had gained in his own abilities, made Archer bold.

  “Why am I here?” He asked, looking at the glass with disgust and frowning a little.

  Ganis, as Archer came to know, often ignored giving answers to questions which did not interest her or fall within her intended stream of conversation. “Do you still care for your friends?”

  “Yes.”

  She signaled the guards once again and they opened the door. Balta and Ascilla stood at the entrance, in what was to Archer unexpectedly good spirits. They were not harmed, as the Countess had promised, and seemed to Archer to have been well cared for. Ascilla’s wings had grown to almost be as large as they were when Archer had first seen them, but were still not fully restored.

  “Brother, how are you?” Balta greeted. He rushed at Archer and offered him a rough hug, which he quickly broke to take a closer look at Archer and feel out his chest and arms as if he sought to confirm what he saw. Once he released Archer, he said, “How do I look in this?” He turned around to display his new outfit. It was a simple black leather armor that granted minimal protection and would usually be used as an under-armor during battles, nevertheless, it bore the same pattern of the vine growing from the bottom right corner of the outfit which extended to the shoulder and ended with a blossomed rose. Yet this time the pattern was in crimson.

  “You are unharmed, both of you.” Archer smiled and gently punched Balta’s shoulder. He then headed to Ascilla, the Walkyrien whom he had not gotten a chance to properly know, and offered her an equally warm greeting. “How is your wound?” He felt a little awkward when Ascilla failed to respond in the same warmth he had shown her.

  “Recovering well.”

  “I told you my reason for clipping her wings. It was no act of mindless cruelty,” said Ganis.

  “Yet unforgivable,” noted Ascilla.

  The brief exchange left Archer confused as he had not yet known how the encounter between Ganis and his companions continued once he was taken away to commence his discipleship.

  “Archer, you will need my assistance to prepare for what awaits you should you seek to fulfill Keshish’s will. I have freed your companions as promised, and you too are free to leave should you wish it, but I believe that you ought to stay here a little while longer to be better prepared for what is yet to come.”

  Ganis’ words sent Archer’s thought into a violent spiral in which he was convinced that what he needed to do was at conflict with his deepest desires. The young man wanted to return to Keshish and his cabin, resuming the life he once had before misfortune befell him, but this prospect was long gone with the hermit’s death and the declaration of his cursed will. What his soul needed, however, was to see Keshish’s last wish fulfilled, not simply his last words, but their essence. Archer knew not where this journey would lead him or how long it would take, but he believed that the choice he was about to make would one day come to bare grave consequences that he did not fully understand yet.

  Referring to her deceased master’s own method of manipulating his students, Ganis made sure that Archer would be exposed to scriptures and training that would guide his answer to this very dilemma he faced. She watched in anticipation for his response to her clever scheme.

  “I will remain in Katabasis until you deem me ready,” Archer said once his emotions settled and his thoughts cleared.

  “What about Fort Pax? You gave me your word,” Ascilla burst. In her impatience she unintentionally took a step forward which triggered Archer’s defensive reflexes to take one step back, preserving the distance between them. Neither were aware of their motion, but Balta stood in amazement as he saw just how changed his friend was.

  “A promise I intend to keep, Ascilla,” Archer calmly responded, his stance unchanged.

  Infuriated by Archer’s decision, the Walkyrien stormed out of the room and towards the courtyard.

  “I stand with you, brother, regardless of your choices,” Balta said.

  “A sentiment much appreciated.”

  Knowing that his presence was no longer needed, Balta followed Ascilla, appearing to Archer intending to calm his winged companion.

  When silence prevailed in the hall once more Ganis reached out to the blood barrel and used a silver serving spoon resting on its edge, by the handle shaped at its end, to delicately refill her glass. She continued to casually sip her drink.

  “Tell me, Archer, do you feel any different since we last met?”

  “You mean since I was last granted your gift? I do. Somehow it feels as if my vitality is superb. I am always prepared for action, and appear to require less rest than usual. Strangely, too, I can sense the moods of those around me.”

  Ganis hummed. Runes were a poorly understood craft which its use often led to unintended consequences. Ganis did not know just how much or how strongly Archer would be affected, but she hoped that he would respond similarly to how his father did, with godly improvement. “Runes cannot give you what you do not have. This mood sense you speak of is just an amplification of your natural ability to judge how others feel.” She took another quick look at Archer and thought, now I’m starting to see why you spared this one.

  “Should I feel the way I do?” Archer asked, still not entirely certain about how runes worked or the extent of their effect.

  “I do not know,” Ganis said. Once more she returned to her intended topic. “Do not expect your journey to be short or easy, Archer. I do not know anything about it other than my small role, which will come to an end soon.”

  “The training?”

  “That and your next stop.”

  Archer grew curious of where he was to go next. He sought out any clues about his journey and contemplated endless outcomes to which it could lead, but when he was bro
ught back from the land of imagination and to reality he always repeated the thought that he knew too little to predict. “Where will that be?”

  “All in good time, Archer.” She turned and started to slowly walk around Archer in a circle, her boots producing the sound Archer always found unpleasant as it made contact to the stone floor, and a muffled version of it when they struck the withering crimson carpet covering a small portion of the floor. “How well do you know Ascilla?”

  “As well as is possible to know someone on a short stroll.”

  Ganis hummed. “Then not too well. She is Alvian and her wings are not a quality of her heritage, but that of her dormant potential.”

  “A rune?”

  “Precisely. There is one more thing that she does not know about. She possesses a second dormant quality, very rare and only possible within Alvians of pure blood.” She stopped for a moment and stared at Archer. “Do you want to know something about her that she does not? You could wield this knowledge to have her bound to you throughout your journey.”

  Archer pondered the notion for a moment. He did not like the idea of withholding information from others to manipulate them, and he was uncertain what influence it could have on his relationship with Ascilla, whom he started to view as a potentially valuable ally. Whatever it was, it would be impossible to make use of Ganis’ knowledge without knowing it. “I do.”

  “Very well,” Ganis said, continuing her stroll and occasional sip of her drink. “Ascilla has another dormant trait which I could activate. She has an affinity to a particular element. I do not know which, for I am yet to uncover the secrets of my new discovery. This trait could be unlocked and make her even more valuable to the Ichneumon Order.”

  “Ganis, what would you do with this knowledge if you were in my place?” Archer shocked Ganis with his question, an effect made clear to him by the change in her pacing.

  “I would keep it to myself till I find a use for it, as I do with all secrets.” Ganis broke off her circling of Archer and slowly walked towards her throne to rest on her comfortable golden seat padded with crimson pillows. “You can think about what I told you as much as you want later. For now I suggest you turn your attention towards the upcoming tests.”