Marin's Codex

by Benjamin Medrano

  Wordlessly, Bevall almost marched forward, vanishing into the curtain like Ryvan had. When he was gone, Sistina asked curiously. “What was it like, Ryvan?”

  “She’s the same. Polite, kind, and powerful,” Ryvan told her, shrugging as he added, “I don’t know how else to explain her. You’ll have to wait for your turn.”

  “I suppose so,” Sistina murmured, anxiety swirling in her stomach as she waited impatiently.

  After a minute, the curtain vanished again and Bevall appeared, looking dazed as he clutched a sheathed sword in both hands. It didn’t look remarkable to Sistina’s eyes, but the rapt look that Bevall was giving it gave the impression that it was more important than it appeared.

  The Empress looked at Sistina and smiled again, inviting gently. “Sistina? It’s your turn.”

  Nodding, Sistina didn’t speak, since she was fairly certain she’d stutter if she tried. Instead she approached, and a moment later the curtain of light appeared around them. As it did so, she held up the box she’d brought in, speaking hesitantly as she offered it to the Empress. “These are gifts for you, Your Eternity.”

  “Thank you, Sistina,” the fey murmured, taking the box and opening it, only to smile gently as she looked at what was within. A badly carved statue of a sparrow the size of Sistina’s fist, a carefully glazed ceramic bowl, and an embroidered handkerchief with the image of a tree on it were inside. Each had been made by Sistina herself, and the ceramic bowl was the best of them, she knew. The Empress nodded, her voice gentle. “I can feel the passion that you put into these, Sistina. Thank you very much, I will prize them indeed.”

  “You . . . you are welcome,” Sistina replied shyly, blushing as the fey caused the items to vanish into nowhere, and the Empress studied her closely.

  “You are an interesting young woman, Sistina. Wiser than many of your peers, but not terribly exceptional in most ways. I believe you’ll make a good ruler of the Constella lands in the future, but there’s something about you . . .” the Empress’s voice trailed off. Eventually she slowly nodded, reaching into a hidden pocket in her gown and removing a willow seed that gleamed like gold, holding it out to Sistina as she continued seriously. “This seed will not germinate until far after your own life has reached its end, Sistina. Yet when it does, it will create hope for the future. Keep it close, daughter of Nekir, and be happy. I wish you the best, for all the days of your life. You need no advice from me, for your own wisdom will suffice.”

  Sistina took the seed and was going to ask what the Empress meant when the fey monarch leaned forward and gently kissed her on the cheek. The touch sent a thrill of power, heat, and energy shocking through her like lightning, and the nymph murmured softly, “And go forth with my blessing, Sistina Constella.”

  Unable to speak in her daze, Sistina barely noticed as the curtain fell again, and she slowly moved back to approximately where she had been standing before. The kiss, the words, it was all overwhelming, and her thoughts were moving so sluggishly. What had the Empress meant by that, and why had she given Sistina a kiss?

  When Uvara fell to a knee in front of the Empress, though, it drew Sistina from her near-stupor, blinking in surprise. What was this?

  “Your Eternity, I come before you not with gifts or on a mere pilgrimage, but with a request.” Uvara spoke softly, her voice unsteady as she bowed her head.

  “Oh? And what is your request?” the Empress asked, the nymph seeming mostly curious.

  “With the permission of my father, Duke Silmer, I ask permission to join the Eternal Court and attempt the trials to become a Knight of the Wild,” Uvara said simply, and Sistina’s breath caught in her throat.

  The Knights of the Wild were among the Eternal Wood’s most powerful, devoted defenders, and everything that Sistina had heard about them indicated that the trials to become one of their number were difficult in the extreme. There were tales of outsiders joining their ranks and being turned into fey in the process, but such tales were rare.

  “Are you certain? The trials for a prospective Knight are intended for fey warriors of some skill, and few mortals can manage the hunt that it requires,” the Empress replied seriously, folding her hands in front of her as she continued. “Even should you succeed, you must become fey to join their ranks, and the process kills nearly half of those who attempt it.”

  “I know that the chances of failure are great, Your Eternity, and yet . . .” Uvara hesitated, before continuing softly. “Yet I have long felt out of place in Everium. I have never felt more alive than when within the borders of the Eternal Wood. I am willing to take the risks.”

  “As you wish. If such is your desire, I suggest that you return to your room and rest, as the trials will begin at dawn,” the Empress replied gravely, bowing her head in acknowledgement. “I will accompany your companions to the Overlook in your stead.”

  “Thank you, Your Eternity,” Uvara murmured softly, and stood.

  “Are you sure, Uvara? I didn’t realize that you were that . . .” Ryvan began, but paused uncertainly as the woman smiled at him and shook her head.

  “I’m absolutely certain, Ryvan. I’ve dreamed of this for years, and my father finally agreed with me. I wouldn’t say that he’s happy, but he’s accepted that it’s what I need to be happy,” Uvara explained, shrugging and giving Sistina a nervous smile. “Thank you, though. All of you.”

  “Good luck, and good hunting,” Bevall spoke seriously, holding his new sword in one hand as he offered the other to Uvara. “From everything I’ve heard, you’ll need both luck and skill.”

  Uvara nodded, shaking his hand. When she faced Sistina, she hesitated a moment, then Uvara embraced her suddenly, whispering softly. “Thank you for the bow. It may make all the difference in the world.”

  Surprised, Sistina belatedly hugged her in return for a moment, answering. “You’re welcome, though I would have appreciated a little warning. This is a bit of a shock, you know.”

  “Sorry about that, Sistina,” Uvara apologized. “But I need to rest, if I can. I hope you all enjoy the sight. I hope to see you again.”

  “We’d better see you again,” Ryvan replied, smiling almost normally. “I mean, what a tale it’ll be, to say that I know a Knight! You’d better not disappoint us!”

  “Right,” Uvara smiled at his reply, nodded at all of them again, and headed for the door.

  Behind them, the Empress simply smiled and murmured. “Now then, shall we go?”

  “Of course, Your Eternity,” Ryvan replied, still holding his rose, and they all began to follow the Empress outside.

  Chapter 9

  The air seemed to grow heavier as they climbed the stairs toward the Overlook. Sistina was taking up the rear, following the others as the Empress led the way almost effortlessly. It was fortunate that the night sky was cloudless, as the brilliant starlight from above gave just enough illumination to be able to climb easily.

  “This is called the Path of Ascension by some,” the Empress spoke after a short time, her voice clear and pleasant. “I believe it’s an overly impressive name, but considering that it leads to one of the few places where you can view the world tree, perhaps it isn’t a bad name.”

  “Your Eternity, why is the Overlook so special? Couldn’t we look on the world tree from anywhere on the ridge?” Bevall asked. He was the only one of the elves who could climb the stairs without growing short of breath, Sistina realized sourly, but she was interested in the Empress’s answer as well.

  “No, you couldn’t. We are six hundred miles from the tree, and over such an immense distance it wouldn’t be visible,” she explained, shaking her head in amusement. “The Overlook contains magic that warps space, allowing you to see the tree as though it were only a few miles away, and to feel the full majesty of its presence. When I was young, the Overlook could do more . . . but that time has long since passed. Please do not inquire further on that subject.”

  “As you wish, Your Eternity,” Bevall murmured, nodding quickly. �
�Thank you for the answer.”

  Glancing behind them, it took a moment before Sistina finally asked, her voice nearly a gasp. “What do . . . the trials for Uvara . . . entail?”

  “I suggest saving your breath, Sistina. We have some ways to go yet,” the Empress advised gently. After a short pause, she continued. “As to Uvara’s trials? It varies, but I believe she will have half the day to hunt down a primal drake. The creatures are dangerous, so I do not have high hopes for her survival. The ritual to transform into a fey has the highest odds while the sun is in the sky, so should she not return by sundown, her chances will dwindle rapidly.”

  “I . . . I see . . .” Sistina replied as best she could, her hopes dwindling slightly.

  Ryvan didn’t speak, continuing to climb the stairs, but Bevall spoke up quietly. “May we stay to see if she succeeds?”

  “Of course you may,” the Empress replied, seeming amused at the question. As they approached the building atop the stairs, the fey monarch stopped and waited, explaining. “I suggest you catch your breaths. In my experience, the first sight of the world tree tends to take one’s breath away.”

  Sistina paused and gratefully gulped down the air, trying to steady her breathing. It took a minute before she spoke breathlessly. “Obviously, I need more exercise. That was . . . hard. I thought I was in better shape than that.”

  “Stairs are far more strenuous than simply walking or hiking, so don’t feel too bad,” Bevall replied, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead.

  “You . . . seem to be doing better . . . than me . . .” Ryvan huffed, his hands on his knees. “I don’t think I’ve ever . . . climbed that many stairs at once before.”

  “I might suggest getting out a touch more, Ryvan,” the Empress advised gently, smiling at him. “I think you could do with a bit more exercise.”

  Nodding, the young man didn’t reply, slowly steadying his breathing until he wasn’t wheezing and could stand up straight again. By that point, Sistina’s own breathing was steady, and she was looking at the Overlook in curiosity.

  The building was a simple rotunda of gray stone that she didn’t recognize, and it looked ancient. Faint cracks pitted the surface of the building, and old vines snaked up the pillars ahead of them, yet none climbed onto the roof of the structure. It was an odd sight, especially when most of the buildings made by fey that she’d seen so far had been primarily made of wood, not stone.

  “I believe you are ready. Come along,” the Empress finally spoke, nodding as she gestured for them to follow her, and set out to climb the last few dozen steps. Ryvan let out the slightest of groans, following only reluctantly, and prompting a smile from Sistina. She really couldn’t blame him, though.

  One by one, the other two passed the pillars of the Overlook’s entrance, and stopped in place, seemingly stunned. Sistina stepped inside herself, looking in the same direction as the drop-jawed Ryvan, and stiffened herself, a hand grasping her pendant tightly.

  Before her, the very sky seemed to warp and shift, the stars blurring and growing more vivid, as though they were each a dozen times brighter, and it almost felt as though she would lose her grip on the ground and fall into it. The sky was purple and blue, and formed a titanic backdrop to the forest and vast lake that lay before them, trees even more ancient than those of the Twilight Moat towering about them. It was the tree itself that stunned her into silence, though. A titanic, white-barked tree veined with lines of glittering golden light pierced up into the faint purple clouds, the branches seeming to almost vanish into the firmament itself. Glittering motes of light surrounded it, pulsing with power and mana beyond belief, and it took everything that Sistina had not to simply let her knees buckle. The aura matched that of the Empress’s, yet it was so incredibly much more than her own. It was like comparing a torch to a forest fire; something simply beyond compare.

  “That . . . the world tree . . . it feels like you, Your Eternity. Why?” Sistina managed to ask.

  “It is more that I feel like the tree, Sistina,” the nymph murmured, looking upon the tree with a gentle smile. “I may not be a dryad, but the day I became the Empress, I was blessed with a fragment of the tree’s power. It is what gives me my eternal life, young ones, and should it die, so too shall I. I hope to never see that day, but it may yet come to pass. Nothing in this world is truly eternal.”

  “But . . . but you’ve been here since before Everium, and before the Othar Dominion, and before the Sakaath States before that!” Ryvan protested, tearing his sight away from the tree to look at her in bewilderment that echoed Sistina’s own internal horror. “How could you possibly die?”

  “Ah, to be young again,” the Empress chuckled, smiling at each of them as she replied softly. “As I said, nothing is truly eternal. Even gods have been slain before, so how could a mere nymph, even blessed by the world tree, outlast everything? One day my time will come, and I will accept it. Remember, even the brightest of stars will eventually go out. Our task in this world is to be the brightest, longest-lasting of lights that we can be.”

  “I . . . I suppose. I will try to take your advice, Your Eternity,” Ryvan replied hesitantly. “I simply hope it is a long time in coming.”

  Sistina nodded in agreement with him, and turned back to the image of the world tree, taking a long minute to drink in its beauty and power. The immensity of it put herself in perspective, and she took her time admiring it alongside the others. After all, she likely would never have the chance to see the tree again.

  Unlike the previous night, Sistina slept well that night, no dreams rousing her in the midst of her slumber. The downside of how well she slept meant that she didn’t get out of bed until after Uvara had left for the day, which left her feeling both sheepish and guilty for not seeing their companion off when she might not return.

  Trying to set aside her discomfort, Sistina chose to visit the market of the Eternal Court with Bevall and Ryvan. Neither of the two were looking too seriously for anything, but Sistina found herself browsing the market for far longer than she’d expected. She ended up trading a few small trinkets for a shawl for her mother, and an elaborately carved silver coin in exchange for a beautiful inkpen for her father. Sistina hadn’t really found anything for herself, but eventually she got over her fear of an arachne and managed to approach one of the master weavers for a new dress, which ended up taking most of the day.

  By an hour before sundown, though, Sistina was pacing through the antechamber of the palace anxiously. Nearby was a tall, muscular fey with skin the color of polished walnut and who stood six and a half feet tall. The man wore chainmail that vanished into the shadows, and both an enormous bow and a two-handed sword were slung at his back. The horns of a ram grew from the sides of his head, and the dark-haired man glanced at Sistina in amusement, speaking in a deep voice. “You should stop pacing, Lady Sistina.”

  “Why? I thought that Uvara would be back by now! I know it’s dangerous, and I’m afraid that she might have failed,” Sistina retorted nervously, looking up at the Knight of the Wild. His name was Mekal, and she knew that he was of fairly high rank due to how the other fey had spoken so respectfully to him.

  “Because my scouts reported that while your friend was injured, she succeeded in her hunt,” Mekal replied calmly, his arms still crossed. “It is simply a matter of time until she reaches us. I do hope that she survives to join our ranks . . . one who can overcome such disadvantages as a mortal would be a wonderful addition.”

  “She . . . she succeeded? I’m glad to hear that, I just . . .” Sistina paused, trying to decide what to say or think, and took a deep breath before shaking her head and chewed her lip in worry. “I worry, that’s all. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Glad to hear that I’m not the only one who was worried,” Uvara’s voice was faint as she staggered into the room, leaning against the door frame. Sistina paled, seeing deep crimson staining Uvara’s side, as well as how the other woman’s left arm dangled uselessly in a sling
. The tourniquet around Uvara’s upper arm told Sistina far too much, but the smile on the woman’s face was broad. “Still managed it. Barely, though. A hair’s breadth slower, and I wouldn’t have.”

  “Uvara! Are you alright?” Sistina asked, staring in horror. “Your arm . . .!”

  “Don’t worry; she’ll be fine if she manages to survive the transformation,” Mekal interjected, stepping forward to support Uvara. “If successful, it could even repair missing limbs, let alone something like this. I must congratulate you, Uvara. You’re the first mortal to succeed in the trials in two centuries.”

  “Thank you, High Captain. Thank you for your concern, Sistina,” Uvara managed, giving a wan smile, and hesitating before asking. “If . . . if I make it, may I visit you tonight, Sistina? I have something I want to talk to you about.”

  “Of course you can!” Sistina replied, looking at the blood slowly dripping onto the floor and shivering. “I . . . just go, please? I don’t want you to die before getting your chance.”

  “Heh. Thank you. I don’t either,” Uvara murmured, and nodded up at Mekal, asking. “May I have your assistance, Captain?”

  “Of course, Uvara,” Mekal replied, nodding to Sistina, and helping the young woman slowly leave the room.

  “Demasa, please grant Uvara your grace,” Sistina closed her eyes and prayed under her breath, then returned to her room to sit and wait nervously.

  A knock at the door to her room startled Sistina, causing her to jump slightly and look up from the book she’d been staring at. She would have said she was reading it, but that wouldn’t be honest, as she couldn’t remember anything she’d read in the past hour. Standing, she quickly approached the door and opened it, her voice anxious. “Yes?”

  Standing just outside her door was a handsome man just a couple of inches taller than Sistina, about six feet in height and looking faintly nervous. The man looked mostly elven, but the cat-like pupils to his brown eyes startled her. It was the athletic-looking man’s long auburn hair that made Sistina gasp, her eyes widening slightly as she realized that this was Uvara.