Stone remembered, now, the speech that Wrynn had given him on shaman being one brotherhood, the pain he’d seen on the man’s face upon mentioning those living in the south with the vicious raiders. Loathe as he was to admit it, Stone could easily imagine how tempting it would be to use these powers for wealth. He thought back, months now, to the altercation at the slaver camp; that kind of man only respected power. One could live like a king amongst such people if they had the ability to wield the elements.
He lay back once again, in the sun, content to drift along on the boat, simply lost in his thoughts, musing over everything the old man had told him. Looking overhead, he could tell, thanks to Arnoon teaching him, that it was early afternoon. A while yet before Lanah finished her studies. Later, he would meet with her, talk about what he’d learned.
Yalen was already snoring, his pipe threatening to drop from his lips.
But first, he would doze himself. He closed his eyes and drifted off, quite literally.
***
The golden sun had travelled only a short way further through its path in the sky when he was awoken by a voice, musical, sweet and full of light. Lanah’s. He looked about himself, but he was still floating in the boat on the Yow, Yalen still snoring contentedly at the other end.
There was the voice again, singing his name, distant as though carried on the breeze, yet at the same time as close as though she were speaking over his shoulder. He got the overwhelming sense that it was coming from upriver, amongst the trees. He stood, his balance such that the boat didn’t even rock, then leapt, a fluid, graceful and powerful movement that caused him to clear the river and reach the shore in one easy bound. The voice called him again, so he set off in search of its owner.
On the boat, Yalen continued to snore.
***
He found the glade not far from the banks of the river, further north, upstream from the village. Picturesque with wildflowers and shaded trees, it was quiet, bar the melodious calls of the colourful birds that flitted in and out of the vibrant foliage. The earth was dark and rich beneath his feet, in contrast to the green grass. A shiver up his spine momentarily, as he suddenly realised the scene was eerily akin to the oasis of his fevered nightmares, but the moment passed; the atmosphere here was peaceful, serene, no danger to be found here.
The voice called him on, clearer now, brushing his way through a leafy bush, hung low with juicy berries and before he even burst into the small clearing, dappled with bright sunlight and overhung with wide, low, leafy trees, he knew that she was there.
Lanah sat cross-legged in the soft grass, eyes closed in the warm sunlight, smiling beatifically, opening her eyes to watch him as he entered the grove.
“How did you do that?” he enquired as he approached her and sat down next to her on the warm earth.
“The spirits of air are wild and flighty, but win them over and there’s a lot they can do; carrying messages is but one thing.” She took his hand. “I’m glad they found you.”
Silence for a few minutes as the two simply sat, enjoying the sun, listening to the birdsong, content just to be in each other’s company, before Lanah spoke, her soft, quiet voice sounding curiously in tune with the melodious calls of the birds.
“I called you here for a reason, Stone.”
He looked at her, puzzled, as she went on.
“You leave for the Journey soon and I want you to be prepared.”
“You told me that it wouldn’t be dangerous if I showed respect.”
“Aye, but I know you and I know how you act with the spirits. You seek to harness them, control, dominate even.”
Stone wasn’t put out by the accusation; he knew in himself that it was true.
“It’s like you seek to control everything because too much has happened to you that’s been out of your control. But you need to let this attitude go if you’re to meet the avatars of the elements; you’re powerful, Stone, but if you show any hint of disrespect, any signs that they should be obeying you, rather than working with you, then they will not hesitate to destroy you.”
He shivered; he’d felt the eternal, unyielding nature of the elements’ power before. Even such feats as killing the boar, igniting a dozen flaming arrows, all had only used but an infinitesimal fraction of this ageless might; the thought of incurring its wrath didn’t bear thinking about.
He nodded in solemn agreement, his hand forming a fist in front of him as he stared at it.
“You’re right; when I have the power surging through my veins I feel like it’s mine by right and I don’t want to give it back.”
“That’s how it starts.” Her eyes wide and full of understanding and empathy. “The power is addictive and it’s easy to forget that it’s borrowed, not innate. That is why you need to spend more time communing with the elements, as I do here.” She spread her arms wide to take in the whole of the picturesque paradise. “The more time you spend with them, the more you realise that the world of spirits is a real, thriving, bustling worlds of living beings, not just a power-source that can be abused on whim.” She moved so that she was sat, cross-legged, exactly opposite him. “Close your eyes,” she commanded. “ Connect to the elements.”
He did as she asked, closing his eyes, feeling the connection to the earth, the air, the distant water and the even further distant fire, all opening up easily and naturally to him as though born to it. The familiar metallic tang of the earth, the refreshing, cooling rush of water, the prickling, static feel of the air and the smoky, warming fire.
“No, you’re feeling the power, the source.” A gentle voice breaking into his thoughts. “Don’t concentrate on that or you’ll go too deep and miss what I want you to see. Feel, instead, the life. Feel the vibrancy, the purpose. Feel the end point of the power, what’s just below the everyday surface, there but hidden.”
Subtly, he shifted his state of mind with a mental command and nearly fell over backwards, as all of a sudden a wave of fresh sensations blew over him.
The creaking, groaning stretch of trees as they continued their centuries old reach to the heavens; the thunderous boom, boom of footsteps as myriad beetles raced hither and thither between towering blades of grass in their ceaseless quest for sustenance; the rushing, whistling gallop of heartbeats from dozens of birds that preyed upon those same insects, gliding down to scoop them up in one fell swoop. And on the edge of his senses, a rustling, a gentle, sing-song laughter.
“Better.” The gentle voice again. “Now open your eyes.”
He did and gasped. Lanah, sat in front of him, glowing with a radiant, intoxicating light that shone out from her very soul to touch all about her. He was seeing her as never before. He went to speak but she shushed him, gently.
“Look about the clearing,” she implored him quietly.
Again, he did as she bade him, eyes taking in a raft of new sights as he did, observing as never before the bustling and wondrous variety of the living world. He frowned slightly, believing his eyes deceiving him. There it was again, small, slight shapes flitting here and there amidst the trees and bushes; fast, fleeting, not birds, too small, but not insects, too powerful, moving with too much grace and purpose.
He turned to Lanah, but her eyes beseeched him to keep looking, so he did.
As he watched, one of the shapes detached itself from the bush in which it had been playing and flew near, just for an instant, but an instant was all Stone needed these days.
The creature had all the appearance of a female human but scaled down a hundred-fold. Bewinged and ephemeral, its slender, shapely form clothed in dazzling rainbow light that barely hid its modesty, its shape shifted and changed, even as the eye beheld it. Captivating him, it was beautiful, dazzling, incandescent. Its tiny, pointed human face was seductive, youthful, playful, yet had eyes that seemed like pools of infinite wisdom, like it could gaze into his very soul, like it had the knowledge of his past and future laid out clear as a piece of parchment. As he watched it, time slowed, almost to a standst
ill, the rustling of leaves one endless moment, nothing intruding on this instant shared only by the two of them.
Stone noticed his mouth was open, drool almost beginning to drip as he gazed in wonder, when, from the edge of his consciousness, Lanah’s soft voice called out to him again.
“Look away, Stone. Look away, or its glamour will claim you.”
Time resumed its normal flow.
He blinked, shaking his head to clear the fuzziness that had been crowding in. The little creature frowned in distaste, its fun spoilt, and flew off in an instant to join the frolics of its companions amongst the foliage. Wiping his chin free of saliva in embarrassment, Stone turned back to Lanah, his eyes full of questions which she answered without them being voiced.
“Spirits of air,” she gestured all about the clearing to the tiny, flitting creatures that played and gambolled heedless of the pair.
“So when I call upon the Falcon-Sight…?”
She nodded.
“Creatures such as these answer your call, lending you their power for a brief time.”
Looking about at the laughing, playing spirits, he could now understand why Falcon-Sight was such a fleeting gift that strove to tear away from him after only a few seconds’ use.
“We call these particular spirits Sylphii, but they are but one of many different kinds of air spirit.”
Sylphii. His mind translated the word subconsciously into English, finding numerous meanings, but one in particular stood out.
Fairy.
He had no knowledge of where he had lived prior to this world, but something deep inside him knew that such a concept as the existence of fairies would be earth-shatteringly foreign there, laughable even. But he lived here now and had experienced stranger things. He took it in his stride, the disbelief of his previous life suspended, instead, the logical side of his mind thinking over this new information, trying to fit it into the order of things that he already knew.
“So, these Sylphii, how do they come about? Do they mate and raise young like us?”
She shook her head.
“No, they’re not animals as we might think them. We live on the surface of the world, but the spirits are more part of it. They’ve been here longer than us and will stay here long after we’re nothing but dust.”
He pondered this.
“So, they’re part of the elements, some kind of natural side-effect, an emanation given physical form.”
Confusion flickered across her face, followed by acceptance.
“I’ve never heard it in such foreign terms before, but yes, I suppose that’s about right.”
Laughter, like the tinkling of tiny bells, drew his attention back to the Sylphii. As he watched them, he could feel the force of their personalities, the capriciousness, the playfulness, and it was quite intoxicating, feeling his own spirit yearning to go along with it.
“Powerful, isn’t it?” Lanah asked him. “When you see the elements for what they are, living things rather than just pure forces, you get a real feel for them, for what they’re about. In this state, it’s easier to pick up on it. All you’ve done is open yourself up to it, allow them slightly into your own essence.”
He turned back to her, still surrounded with a halo of golden light. Even through her very words he could feel her essence, almost as he had when she’d healed him of spirit-sickness that time; her warmth, her kindness, her strength. Other things too, deeper, things she kept hidden most of the time, but couldn’t in this state with both their souls slightly bared to the elements. It was like a door left slightly ajar, allowing a brief peek inside.
Gently, he took her hands in his and she gasped delicately as the door was thrown wider open. He, too, had to suppress a tremor at the instant urgency of the connection; what he’d felt as she’d healed him was but a fraction of this; their fingers, skin lightly touching, acting as a two-way conduit for their thoughts and feelings, each steadily immersing in the other, bodies throbbing in sympathy with the contact between souls.
Slowly, achingly, they rose to their knees as one, no talk needed for they each knew the heart of the other, drawing together, lips brushing together, tentative at first, as sparks of their souls leapt between them to arc the gap, causing them both to shiver with barely repressed ecstasy, before embracing hard, urgently, every square inch of contact allowing more and more of their essence to merge, heightening the sensation of oneness.
Lost in the moment and watched by flitting, sighing Sylphii, the two lowered themselves gently into the soft grass, shedding their leather and hide garments, sharing each other, body and soul, like no two had ever shared before.
***
“Then it is decided.”
The Chief’s booming voice resounded about the inside of his hut at that closing statement, just as Stone and Lanah burst in from the outside.
“Father,” she made her way towards him, concerned. “What’s this we heard on the way here?”
Farr took her shoulders in greeting, nodding over at Stone who returned it.
The insides of the large hut were filled with all the important people of the village; the Elders, Wrynn, Arnoon and Neroo. Quite a gathering, such as hadn’t been called since Stone had first arrived at the village. Something was up.
The Chief answered his daughter, tone warm and controlled, but serious.
“Nothing to worry about, my beautiful daughter. We have had word from a neighbouring village is all, that a party has been sighted riding from the Steppes.”
Lanah opened her mouth, but it was Stone who voiced the question, the closeness of their intimacy still lingering in their souls, even as it did their bodies.
“On this side of the river?”
The Chief nodded. This didn’t bode well, for the Steppes-Folk often rode past on the other side of the river to plunder the unwary folk of the Hills; rarely did they risk the wrath of the gathered villages by riding on this bank.
“We are sure it’s nothing to worry about,” affirmed the Chief. “Just a small force scouting out the land, no doubt, seeing if we’ve moved on, if any territory is free to plunder. They do this from time to time.” He nodded over at Arnoon and Neroo. “But, just to be on the safe side, we’re sending a small party of Youngbloods to observe them.”
Stone stiffened and Lanah would have known what he was about to say, even without their lingering connection.
“If the Youngbloods hunt, I wish to go with them.”
Wrynn replied.
“Out of the question, Stone.” His voice was stern, brooked no argument. “Arnoon and his men will stay out of danger, rest assured. In the meantime,” his voice softened, “if you really wish to serve the village, undertaking the Journey will help you to do that more than spying on the barbarians.”
Stone went to argue, but knew there was no point. If Farr was right and the party was nothing to worry about, then by skipping the Journey he would have to wait another few months for the moons to align once more before he could try again, months of wasted opportunity, time he could be furthering his skills.
He nodded, conceding to his master’s wishes.
“Very well.”
***
The morning of departure arrived, for both Stone and his friends; Stone to embark upon his spiritual journey, the Youngbloods a physical one, both fraught with dangers of very different types, and everyone was gathered about the village centre.
Hands clasped, one on a shoulder of each of his close brothers, Stone bade farewell to Arnoon and Neroo, both bare chested and bedecked in their finest war-paint.
“Good hunting, guys. Bring me something back.”
“I’m not sure barbarian meat tastes too good,” laughed Neroo, the others joining in the mirth, glad for a break in the tension.
Arnoon looked at Stone, seriousness in his eyes.
“You stay safe too, Nagah-Slayer. You’re important to this village now.”
His eyes glanced over at Lanah to make his point, and Stone, despite all the cha
nges wrought on him by the last few months, was humbled by the sheer acceptance of this once-haughty warrior in front of him.
“I’ll be home safe, son of Narek. And before you, to boot!”
They shared a laugh, challenge accepted, before Arnoon turned and raised his bow above his head.
“Youngbloods! We hunt!”
“Arnoon! Arnoon!”
And off they went.
Stone turned back to the people waiting to see him off. The Shaman loomed over him, as imperious and everlasting as a mountain, though the youth’s physique was catching him up as he grew, inexplicably, day by day.
“Ready for this.”
“I think so.”
“It wasn’t a question,” the Shaman smiled. “Walk, just walk, and the spirits will show you the way.”
The apprentice nodded in understanding, so he continued.
“When you enter their world, understand this; you are nothing to them. The avatars are eternal, a thousand years passing in the blink of an eye, civilisations coming and going. Do not anger them, only listen and do as they bid. If they accept you, you will return wiser and with their blessing.” He placed his giant hand on Stone’s shoulder, amazed, not for the first time, at the muscles developed on his frame over the last months. “I have every faith in you.”
“Cheers. I’ll try to do you proud.”
Lanah next, her eyes calm and confident, though he could feel the anxiety radiating off of her.
“I’ll be back, safe and sound. Don’t worry.”
“I can’t help but worry. I know you.”
“You do. And that’s why I’ll be back.”
He kissed her, softly, her eyes closing as he did, before turning and walking off without a word.
The Descent to Madness (The Graeme Stone Saga) Page 16
