by Nichelle Rae
“My father came to this earth abiding by his own law, his own rules. He showed no one respect unless that person earned it, and it didn’t matter who you were. He didn’t change for thousands of years.”
My brother’s eyes went wide at that. “Thousands of years?”
I nodded. “The amount of Evil and devastation was beyond what you can imagine, Rabryn. It took thousands of years to clean up the mess.”
“You’re right, I can’t imagine it,” Rabryn said, closing his eyes and shaking his head for a moment.
“It was everywhere, too, not just Casdanarus. My father fought battles all over the world.”
“What?” Rabryn cried, his eyes flying wide open. I nodded, and my brother looked at Ortheldo, who also gave a patient nod.
Rabryn looked back at me and I continued. “Anyone with at least a faint trace of Hope in their hearts, he helped. He strengthened that Hope until it turned into Goodness, then recruited that person for battle. He won battles large and small and restored the Light Gods’ influence to most of the world—but more notably, into the hearts of the people.”
I paused and looked off to the side. “The most unique skill that he possessed was the fighting style you saw me use on the Gibirs.” I looked down at the grass and picked at it for a moment before going on. “When I was born, he passed that knowledge to me, so I would always have an edge over my enemies just as he did.” I paused, unsure if I was going to be able to continue.
Rabryn took advantage of my silence to speak. “Azrel, I’ll admit that living in The Pitt allows most events in the world to go on without our knowledge, but how could this…this unfathomable war have happened without us knowing about it? I mean, I’ve never even heard of the White Warrior! Wouldn’t something be in our history books?”
“What did your history lessons in The Pitt consist of, Rabryn?”
“The history of The Pitt.”
I smiled ruefully. “And how thick was that book?”
“It was very thin, but what I’m asking is, how could people of The Pitt not know about any of this? Not a myth, a legend, or a whisper.”
I shrugged. “I probably know less about The Pitt than you do, Rabryn. I have no idea. That magic barrier around its borders is most likely responsible though.”
Rabryn nodded in acceptance. “I’m sorry. So how did your father end up there anyway?”
I wrapped my arms around my knees again and looked down. Now came the hard part—telling him about why my father was so hated, outcast, and labeled a coward of the world.
“During his life, my father wore a diamond crown. Not a crown with diamonds in it, but a solid diamond crown. It was on his brow the day he was made, and all beings looked up to him as a King because of it. It symbolized the Light Gods’ favor, so everyone who looked at it would know Who had blessed him. He had hundreds of millions of followers when it came time for the final battle, the day my father had to face The Nameless One.” I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the lump that had started forming. “When my father faced off with The Nameless One, he said it was as if time had stopped. It probably had. The Nameless One knew that all Goodness, all the Light Gods’ power, was bound into the making of him and the Sword, thus allowing the existence and survival of Goodness through my father. If The Nameless One got a hold of his Sword, it would have been unstoppable. Everything Good would instantly turn Evil if an Evil hand wielded that Sword.”
I sighed and drew out the blade from my belt, holding it across my palms. “This sword.” Rabryn’s eyes went wide as he looked down at it, then up at me, then back down. “This sword is the only reason Goodness exists, even now. It can never be touched by Evil, or else everything Good will be annihilated, obliterated. Goodness only exists because this sword and the White Fire magic exist.” I’d never seen Rabryn’s eyes so wide. “It was the chance the Light Gods took. They weighed heavily whether it was worth the risk of having all that was left of Their power bound to this one warrior and this one object that should be touched only by the hand of the White Warrior.” Rabryn swallowed heavily. “That’s why I always had this sword with me, despite how I was treated for it.”
I looked at the sword a moment longer then replaced it in the scabbard at my side. “Had The Nameless One gotten hold of this Sword, Evil would still dominate the world today because all of Goodness would be wielded by Evil.”
I paused and picked at my fingernails, refusing to meet my brother’s eyes. I wasn’t going to be able to continue. I couldn’t do it. My heart was pounding too loud and I started breathing heavy. I didn’t want him to know! I didn’t!
“Azrel,” Ortheldo said gently, “keep going.”
I glanced up at him and covered my face with both of my hands. “The Nameless One was very powerful, and my father feared for the Sword’s safety,” I squeezed my eyes shut, “so he left.”
“He left?”
My head snapped up. “Yes, left!” I screamed. “Ran off! Disappeared!” I rested my forehead on my arms that were crossed over my knees. “The final and most important battle of his existence, and he ran away,” I muttered.
Here it was, the moment of truth. Here was the scorn, the insults, everything. He was going to hate me just like the world hated my father, even after he pulled them up from the deepest Shadow in history. This was it. Word of the White Warrior’s return was out. I was going to be hated by thousands— and why not? Hate seemed to be the only emotion ever aimed at me.
“Your father had to have been the bravest man alive,” Rabryn said.
I sucked in air and snapped my head up to look at him. Was he serious? “What did you say?” I whispered, too shocked to speak louder, afraid that my voice would destroy the reality of what he’d said.
I was surprised to see his eyebrows drawn together in determination. “You heard me.”
My eyes bulged more. “You — you don’t think him the biggest coward in history? A traitor deserving 1,000 years of torture for his treachery?”
“No,” he said in disgust. “Who would think that?”
I let out a soft breath. “Gee, I don’t know, Rabryn. Maybe all the hundreds of millions of men, Humounts, and Salynns on the battlefield that watched him disappear. Maybe every single generation, of every single race from there on out who read, or someday will read, all the nasty things people have written about my father in history books. You tell me who would think low of him, Rabryn.”
His face softened with understanding. “And you’re the White Warrior now.”
I looked away to the side, unable to manage a reply, not even a nod of my head. I felt empty and stiff. I hated having to tell him this. I hated what I had, I hated that stupid sword! It had betrayed my father. It had taken him away from me, and it made my life hell.
“Azrel,” my brother said softly. “You’ve had nothing but hate and scorn shot in your direction all the years I’ve known you. I understand why you didn’t want to tell me. But I want you to know that I don’t think your father is at all a coward.”
My eyes filled with tears as I turned to look at his sincere face and listened to his soft, genuine tone.
“It took a lot of courage to do what he did, to leave and let others think what they will, no matter how horrid. His intentions were good, and that’s all that matters. He did what he was created to do, and that was to protect the Sword, to protect all of Goodness. He fulfilled that duty, and also by passing the Sword onto a worthy warrior.”
My throat closed, which was good because the burning emotions I was feeling wanted to explode out in sobs, and I didn’t want them to. Though I tried to stop them, tears finally fell down my cheeks.
Rabryn shifted to his knees and leaned toward me, placing a hand on my cheek to wipe my tears. “Your father is not a failure or a coward,” he said softly. “His time just ended too soon. You are the White Warrior’s successor, and there is no other person in the world worthier of that title.”
Two more tears dripped down my cheeks. As he wiped the
m away, he looked at me with such compassion and understanding and sympathy that it nearly took my breath away. He didn’t hate me. He didn’t believe of my father what others did.
“You deserve to wield the great power at your belt just like your father did. You both sacrificed a lot for this Sword. You risked scorn and hatred and abuse in order to protect it.”
I started to tremble. I’d never thought of it that way.
“You don’t deserve what has happened to you, the way you were treated at The Pitt. Nor did your father deserve what happened to him before and after The Pitt.” He smiled softly and caressed my cheek with his thumb. “And you have yet to finish explaining how he got there in the first place.”
I let out a choking laugh, past the sobs that wanted to escape. He kissed my forehead, then sat back to listen. “Thank you, Rabryn,” I breathed.
I sat in thought a moment as I tried to compose myself so I could continue the story. Maybe I wasn’t evil. My brother didn’t think I was evil, so this sword couldn’t be all bad. Now that I thought about it, it wasn’t all bad. Yes, possessing it brought misery to me, but there was more to it than that. I still didn’t appreciate what had been done to me and my father, but I suddenly found that not all the blame should fall on the sword. It was really the people who thought those horrible things, who wrote those horrible things, who did those horrible things—they were to blame.
For crying out loud! The existence of Goodness, of the Light Gods’ power, was bound through this Sword, through me! My brother, who was the most good, kind-hearted person alive, would cease to exist if something happened to this Sword. I felt some warmth grow inside of me at this new realization, the responsibility I had, the power I had!
I cleared my throat to continue. “Well, after my father left the battle,” I glanced at Ortheldo, who was staring blankly at the ground, “Owasyn, the king of Dwellingpath, defeated The Nameless One.”
Rabryn gazed at Ortheldo as I knew he would. “Your ancestor defeated The Nameless One?” he asked in shock.
Ortheldo shook his head without glancing up. “I have nothing to do with that life, that land, or that history.” There was an edge to his tone, so Rabryn wisely turned back to me.
“How? If your father couldn’t…how could…?”
I shook my head. “To this day no one knows. No one knows how Owasyn was able to kill It.” My father and Beldorn had each told me their theories, but I didn’t want to terrify my brother with mere guesses, so I left it alone.
He looked confused and curious, shaking his head a little as if he wanted to pursue the question of how it was possible. But he accepted that there wasn’t an answer. “Okay, so The Nameless One was defeated, and that leaves you to…do what?”
“To finish what my father should have.” My skin prickled again at the thought of Hathum.
“Which means?”
“It means that by being born, I was sentenced to death.”
I expected him to explode with questions and worry. I prepared myself for him to flip out.
“Aren’t we all?” he said instead.
I looked up at him, rather impressed with that bout of wisdom. It made sense—everyone born must die, everyone except…my eyes rested on the gold Sallybreath Flowers in his hair, and I smirked. “Salynns aren’t.”
He smiled a little. “Just because we don’t die quickly doesn’t mean we don’t die. Eventually we will.”
I sighed and shook off this moment of wisdom coming from my baby brother. “It means that I was born to kill Hathum as my father should have done, after he was supposed to kill The Nameless One.” Now his eyes got wide again. I sighed. “Because my father failed in this, the Light Gods took his magic away. He was forced to live as an immortal human until he had a child, who would kill the heart of Evil, Hathum.”
“Hathum…Hathum is still alive?” Rabryn asked. I nodded. “But…but he can’t be. Wizards don’t live that long.”
“The Shadow Gods can easily extend his life, and They have,” Ortheldo piped in.
Rabryn swallowed very heavily, his eyes about to pop out of his head. He was going to lose his mind. I had to change the subject from Hathum.
“It took 3,000 years, but eventually I was born. During that time, my father traveled alone, not wanting to be recognized and not wanting to have a child to bear his burden. But 3,000 years is a long time to live and be alone. A man’s mind can waste away and cause him to go mad, and my father did go mad for a while. He was prepared to kill himself when he came to the woods of The Pitt, which is probably why he was able to find it and enter.”
Rabryn blinked and visibly calmed, nodding his understanding.
“My father met Mother when he arrived, and only after he’d fallen in love with her and she found out she was pregnant with me, did he remember what evil I was to face. He told her the truth about who he was and they made their plans concerning me.”
I sighed as I pictured my mother’s beautiful face. I really missed her. I shook the memory away before I could see her dying in my arms.
“Then, the very day I was born, my father took me away so he could train me in seclusion. He wanted to make sure I could concentrate all my strength and smarts into being a warrior, and to keep me hidden in case Hathum came looking for me. Then Ortheldo came into our lives thirteen years later.” An unbidden grin came across my face as I remembered that day. When I glanced at Ortheldo, he was looking at me the same way. When he turned his eyes back to the ground, I blushed.
Rabryn caught the look we shared and smiled. “A story for another time, I take it?”
“Yeah,” Ortheldo said with a little laugh.
I allowed myself to smile a moment longer before it melted away and I swallowed heavily. “Seven years later, my father gave me the Sword and passed the earthly power of the Light Gods onto me.” I swallowed hard again, feeling the familiar anger at that power for taking him away from me. “As soon as that happened, he died. The rest you know.”
It was quiet for a long moment. Then Ortheldo’s voice suddenly came in a shaking whisper. “Azrel,” he said.
I looked up and saw that both of them were looking past me with wide eyes. I was about to turn around when an unmistakable shadow appeared over me. My eyes went wide. “Norka,” I breathed. I slowly turned to look at him over my shoulder. He had a smirk on his snake face.
“He just materialized out of nowhere!” Rabryn cried, standing up quickly, knowing without being told that Norka shouldn’t know what I was! Ortheldo jumped to his feet, too.
Norka and I stared at each other silently for what seemed like eternity. Finally, he spoke. “I knew there had to be a reason I was sssuppose to addressss you as Missssrtress.” He then got down on one knee in a bow, stunning me stupid. “The White Warrior has been returned to usss. The Light Gods be praisssed!”
“Were — were you behind me the entire time?” I breathed.
He looked up at me with a smile. “I wasss.”
“How?” was all I could manage.
He stood up and pulled the hood of his black robe over his head, and I watched him fade from sight! I jumped to my feet and drew out my sword. I didn't know what he was up to, and if it was no good, I was going to be prepared.
“I'm not going to hurt you.”
All of us jumped and spun around as the sound of his voice suddenly came from behind us. As we looked toward the river, he suddenly appeared again, drawing back his hood.
“These robes are magic robes. I can turn invisssible without having to use my own magic and reccceive the pain Missstress Laroevith sends me. Ssshe gave it to me before I left. I knew it would come in handy.”
“Why did you ride off just before the battle with the Gibirs?” Rabryn asked angrily before I got the chance to ask my question.
“A voice told me to ride away. Ssshe said, ‘Don't let the creatures sssee you or you will be recognized and feared and what needs to be accomplished won't be.’ I haven’t the ssslightest idea what she meant, but ss
something inside my heart told me to obey. I'm sssorry if I angered you, Masssster Rabryn.”
“You didn't anger me. I was worried.”
Norka seemed completely taken off guard by his words. He blinked a few times before replying, “I apologize.”
“Why were you eavesdropping?” Ortheldo screamed before I could speak. His brows were drawn as tightly as they had been in the battle with the Gibirs. He looked ready to tear Norka’s throat out with his teeth.
“Would you have told me this sssecret otherwise?”
“No! Did you happen to think maybe there was a good reason we didn’t want anyone to know?!” Ortheldo advanced toward him, ready to pounce.
I stepped in front of him, putting myself in front of Norka. “Norka,” I swallowed hard and looked up into his eyes. “I need to ask you something. It’s very important to me, so I need you to tell me the truth, do you understand?”
“Of course. I won’t deccceive you. What do you need to ask?”
“Can you keep my identity a secret?” His scaly brows dropped. “Please, Norka, for the sake of Goodness, you can’t tell anyone what I am. No one is supposed to know yet. Will you keep this a secret? Please?”
“Why must it be kept sssecret? The world needsss to know you’ve returned to us. Rumorsss of a Sssecond Shadow are floating around as creatures of the Shadow Gods are being ssseen cross the land.”
I closed my eyes trying to rein in my patience and prepare myself to slit his throat if he didn’t agree to do as I asked. Then I looked into his yellow eyes. “I don’t know why it has to be kept secret, but it was my father’s dying request. Wizard Beldorn also wished that it remain secret. Will you keep it secret, Norka? Please?”
His snake features softened. He took up a bundle of his robes, held it to his chest, and bowed deeply at the waist. “I will keep your ssssecret, White Warrior. I give you my word.”
