Soulseeker’s Descent

by Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla

  “Why would we go to a lost nation? To eat blood pudding and raw fish?”

  “What about Grizna? Empress Sokomonoko could taste our new—”

  Mérdmerén’s eyes opened wide as if a wasp had stung him.

  “Are you all right?” Turi said, sounding concerned. “I wasn’t being serious.”

  “Grizna… I could introduce myself as the new king, present my projects for the future. I could take a gift to the Empress and let her know I’d like to establish an exclusive trade between Mandrake and Grizna. And we could visit Doolm-Ondor and Moragald’Burg on the way to forge new alliances and sign the peace treaty with the Divine Providence once and for all. Then, how could I have forgotten Devnóngaron! We could interview all the clans and establish a relationship. Their powers might come in very handy at any given moment. Turi! It’s a brilliant idea! We’ll make a tour of the world, new friends—we’ll make history!”

  “My King, I think you’ve drunk too much.”

  Mérdmerén made to give him a friendly slap, but his strength ran away with him and he left the boy’s cheek red.

  “By the Gods, sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you,” Turi said apologetically.

  The king was not even aware he had hurt the boy. He was so enthralled that he could only think of the journey, like a little boy longing to go out into the open air after months of seclusion.

  “Turi, it’d be something magnificent! Just think about it. For four centuries, the Mandrake Empire has been a powerful nation, without a serious rival except for Némaldon. But what our nation inspires is fear, not respect. This way there’d be more business, exchanges, and adventure! We’d get to know so much.”

  “My King, I’m honored that you use the plural,” Turi said, his head bowed. “And it’s not that I don’t want to go with you, but I’m just a thief.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, you’d come with me as my esquire. You’d be part of my court.”

  Turi stared at him, his eyes shining.

  “So what do you say, then?”

  “Do I have to give you an answer now? When does the tour begin? Isn’t this rather hasty?”

  “I’m the King. I’ve already made up my mind, and we’ll start planning everything tomorrow. If you’re going to be my esquire you’ll have to train and learn about protocol. And you won’t be able to do any thieving or speak like an oaf. You’ll have to behave like a nobleman, you might earn some land for yourself and plenty of other privileges. If you become a great esquire, you might even become a knight and be part of my personal escort.”

  All of a sudden Turi saw himself confronted with a sea of possibilities and advantages. Used to having nothing, he felt that the offer was too much.

  “Could I say no?”

  “Let me remind you that I’m the King… although I’d like to hear your opinion.”

  “What will the Baron say?”

  “Don’t you worry about the Baron,” Mérdmerén said with a smile. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “In that case, okay. I accept,” said Turi, feeling he had bit off more than he could chew.

  “Let’s drink a toast to that.”

  Turi raised his cup with a shaking hand. He had just committed his future to an uncertain fate. But it was a great opportunity. He touched his wooden cup to Mérdmerén’s and drank.

  ***

  By the next day, Mérdmerén had everything planned; he was so excited he had barely managed to sleep. The first thing he did was to cancel the dispatch of the letter to Ságamas, as now he would deliver the message in person. He must speak to his beloved daughter and communicate his decision to the Council of Kings and the Baron.

  “But I feel you’re not doing this for political reasons, Father,” Ajedrea objected.

  They were in the Square of the Kings, where it was people’s custom to stroll and enjoy the early evening. To the sound of voices was added the hammering of the builders.

  “Don’t be silly, my dear. It’s only for political reasons.”

  The king’s guard was following every step they took. Although Mérdmerén was well-appreciated, possible attempts on his life could not be ruled out.

  “You’re doing it for yourself,” the girl insisted. “You might be able to fool your counselors, but you can’t fool me. I haven’t known you for very long, but I’m your daughter and I know you feel trapped. I’ve noticed that you’ve had all you want of politics. And I don’t blame you, it’s a messy business.”

  Mérdmerén was surprised at how observant Ajedrea was. “You’re right. Do you find the same thing yourself?”

  “More or less. It’s something I’ve discussed with Lombardo,” the young woman said. And as she recalled her beau, she took a lock of her hair and started to play with it.

  “Well, well! My little daughter’s in love with a good lad. And tell me, does Lombardo agree?”

  “Of course. Don’t forget that he used to be a farmer, that he lived in the South, and nothing works there the way it does here. He can barely get used to the routines of this part of the Empire. He’s told me stories of San San-Tera, its beauty, its customs, and the horrors they had to go through. I’ve told him I’d like to go, but he wants to leave all that behind. I tell him it’s not good to forget, don’t you think? You have to face up to situations, not bury them.”

  Mérdmerén smiled broadly. “You’d be a queen like precious few others,” he said. “All right, my love. All this had better stay between the two of us but yes, the journey is for personal reasons. I need it. I need to be away and mourn your mother’s death.”

  “I’ll miss you, Father. But who’ll take care of your throne?”

  “General Leandro Deathslayer,” the king said, although he did not say that the Baron and his army of thieves would still be in command. “Tell me about Lombardo. What are your plans? And don’t sidestep the question, because I’m old and I can recognize the look of love in someone’s eyes. And besides, I like Lombardo. I think he’s an excellent fellow. He was a great soldier, and I have no doubt he’ll look after you.”

  “Well, we’ll see what the wind brings us,” the girl replied with a shy smile.

  Mérdmerén and Ajedrea went on strolling through the park, the father happy to listen to his daughter’s news; she was no longer a child, but a beautiful woman with a desire for a family of her own. If Lombardo should ask for Ajedrea’s hand, he would grant it with the greatest pleasure.

  He smiled to himself, grateful to the Gods that he had had the luck to have lived long enough to share these moments with his daughter. None of the riches of the crown could hold a candle to this pleasure.

  Chapter IV – The Smile of the Wind

  Tomorrow is the day, Alac thought as he flew high.

  Your family will miss you, especially Luchy, Teitú said to encourage him. But they understand your decision. Besides, they’ve enjoyed your company for six months.

  I love her so much…

  And she loves you. Are you going to propose?

  What!? Alac floundered at the question, lost altitude, and changed course.

  This is what you humans do. When you love each other enough, you promise eternal love and devote yourselves to each other till the end of your days. Do you think my people, the Teitú of Tutonticám, marry?

  I don’t know. And to answer your question: no, I hadn’t thought of proposing to Luchy. Although now you mention it… Quite honestly, I can’t imagine myself with anybody else. But I don’t think it would be a good idea to propose just before setting off to fight evil. It would be cruel, for me and her. The God of Light felt his heart sink in his breast.

  He loved Luchy with all his soul and would gladly marry her that very day. But he could not do so yet. Besides, could the God of Light have children with a human? What would be born of their union, a god or a human? He remembered Nordost telling him that his half-divine, half-human nature was the perfect mix for defending the universe. What if he could not have children? What if celestial divinity had left him s
terile? Was he immortal? If he still needed to eat and sleep, he would probably die like a human being. Or not?

  Don’t think about it anymore, my dear Manchego. You’re not helping yourself that way. Follow the dictates of your heart, listen to your intuition. It was love that brought you back to this world, that drove you to defend it. If you leave as Luchy’s fiancé, maybe the desire to get back to her will help you defeat evil.

  Or it might mean my sentence and death. I don’t know, Teitú, you may be right. And what about you, are you back to being my guide again? Are you more at ease now that we’re setting out to find your origins?

  I have a feeling inside me that makes me uncomfortable as if I wanted to explode. I think it’s anxiety.

  That’s normal.

  Now, don’t you change the subject. We were talking about marrying Luchy. She’s a beautiful girl. What if she decided to go with someone else, even though she loves you, to start a family or because she believes you don’t love her enough?

  She’d never do that to me.

  You can’t be sure.

  Suppose I die on this mission? She’d be a dead man’s bride. If I died in another world, she might never find out. She’d be an eternal bride without hope.

  Suppose you leave her a totem that will let her know whether you’re alive or dead?

  What?

  I’ve seen that you humans give each other rings as a symbol of love.

  I don’t see what you’re getting at.

  You should give her a ring so she’s sure of your love and so it drives other men away from her. And most importantly, so she can feel your presence.

  A ring? In the South, that isn’t done very often, Teitú. Less still in villages like ours, where the inhabitants are simple people. Maybe among the nobility, it’s normal but as for us… I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. Besides, where would I get one?

  From your armor.

  Can I do that? That would be good. I’ll think about it. But that’s enough about the subject.

  The God of Light drew his wings back to shape himself into a spear and plunged. His heart was galloping and sending a single word, a single image to his mind: Luchy.

  ***

  The four sat at the table in solemn silence. Luchy and Manchego were holding hands under the table, as usual, only today, Manchego’s hand was sweaty. Lulita was talking about the gossip which was going around the village.

  “People are beginning to want to come and live in the village. They say it’s a historic place.” The grandmother wrinkled her nose. “Can you imagine us turning into a big city? We want to live in peace, a long way away from the crowds.”

  Tomasa was eating without taking much part in the conversation, particularly when it involved gossip. At the end of the day, all she wanted to do was eat and sleep. Hard work left her exhausted. They had talked about hiring several farmhands and getting her to take on the role of administrator. She was looking forward to that possibility.

  “What’s the matter?” Luchy asked Manchego.

  “Nothing,” the boy said sharply.

  “You dimwit, as if I didn’t know you.”

  He kissed her cheek and laid his head on her shoulder, feeling a sweet tremor. He was turning Teitú’s advice over in his mind; he might be right. In any case, he would take the consequences and he was very clear that he would not play with Luchy, not after all she had suffered. She had waited for him for three long years and was obviously happy to be with him. Manchego felt that it was time to honor this love which had always been so pure.

  “Whatever happens, I love you, Luchy. You know that, don’t you?”

  “What d’you mean? Why are you saying this now?”

  Lulita and Tomasa looked at each other as if to say, now they’re going to get into an argument again.

  “Because, well, you know. I’m about to leave tomorrow. Remember we talked about it?”

  “Yes, but I think I wanted to forget about it. I wish tomorrow would never come, but I spent so long waiting for you to come back that what we have now is more than I ever dreamt. That’s life.”

  “I understand. When I was lost in Tempus Frontus I thought the same. All I wanted was to leave. And now all I want is to stay. But there are duties I have to attend to. I have to set out before it’s too late and we all regret it.”

  “I know, you dimwit. It’s just that I love you. And it hurts to love you because it makes me so anxious I can’t bear it.”

  “Nonsense,” Tomasa put in.

  Lulita nodded.

  Luchy half-closed her eyes. Manchego knew that the girl had guessed his intentions and that he was about to propose to her. She blushed and shivered. The atmosphere tensed. Rufus barked, Lulita turned pale, Tomasa stood up. Manchego did not know where to look. He had suffered many agonies, but this ordeal seemed to him the hardest of all. He swallowed.

  “Luchy, would you come with me to watch the sunrise?”

  “Yes, of course,” the girl said hesitantly. She was equally nervous.

  The boy breathed out heavily. He went to put his dirty plate in the stone sink and sat down in the living room.

  “Shall we talk for a while? This is my last evening before I leave.”

  Luchy’s and Lulita’s eyes filled with tears.

  “I’d love to,” Lulita said, her voice breaking.

  Rufus moaned and Manchego sighed. It was not going to be easy to say goodbye to his loved ones.

  Chapter V – Merging of Souls

  The flora and fauna of the Great Mesh would never cease to impress Balthazar. He had been feeling Mother’s presence every moment, had breathed her, had seen her in the plants and the wild animals. The red wyverns flew in an early morning sky and their braying announced morning in the lands of Malush.

  He was heading towards the Devil’s Peak, the highest point of the Nam Nomed in the Devonic range of the Simrar, to speak with Mother. Mowriz was with him; when he had bewitched him, he had never imagined he would live so long. The bewitched boy’s expression was one of pure admiration. The beauty of the dense, wild forests of Devnóngaron had seduced his soul.

  Emperor butterflies danced in a spiral. Birds with blue feathers, red breasts, and long tails were flying among the leafy crowns of the trees. Amid all that majesty, the sun was emerging stealthily from its bower, evaporating the dew and creating a mysterious mist.

  The Wild Man breathed deeply. He felt as if the earth itself was flowing through his veins like air. After all, he thought, we are made of the same matter.

  “Wait here,” he told Mowriz.

  He hid among the foliage like a predator. Several squirrels were running around a tree. He picked a small rock, took aim, threw it, and hit a squirrel on the head. He picked his catch and went back to Mowriz. He spread his hands and thanked Mother. When he felt he had received permission to feed on Mother’s fruits, he proceeded to skin and clean the small carcass.

  He built a fire with some dry wood he found under a trunk. His golden skin shone in the brightness of the fire and his deep, sky-blue eyes looked long and hard at his surroundings. He pierced the body of the squirrel with a stick and laid it close to the coals. It did not take long to roast, and the aroma filled the air. It would attract predators—bárgalas and urídicles, beasts of the jungle of the Great Mesh. A bárgalas was a type of large puma that could hunt wyverns with ease. An urídicles was a hybrid of bear and boar, aggressive and fast.

  Balthazar ate with a good appetite. In a few minutes, he had left the bones bare together with the guts he had put aside so that they would go back to the earth. The Wild Man looked at Mowriz. The young man was dead and thus did not need food. He studied Manchego’s old foe at leisure and noted that the young man had not matured over the years that had passed. He remained locked into adolescence at the age his body had died. Mowriz stared back at Balthazar with a blank stare. There was no expression whatsoever in those eyes.

  “Come on. Mother is waiting for us.”

  Mowriz foll
owed him. They walked days and nights over high land until they found themselves confronted by a vertical wall of rock. Above was the Devil’s Peak, the sacred place of the Wild Men’s battles, where he would be able to communicate with Mother. She would know what to do with the bewitched boy.

  The winds turned violent when he reached the summit. The wind lashed them from side to side. The sun had set.

  Mother was present. Balthazar could feel it. He closed his eyes and spread his arms, surrendering himself to the wind that would bring him Her message. A warmth sprang up in his chest and he saw a sky-blue light in his mind. Mother did not communicate with the agreed and conventional language humans used; it was too limited. She transmitted complete ideas, infused sensations, in the universal language of souls.

  Balthazar began to receive images. He saw Kathanas and Háztatlon, the shadow defeated by the light. He also saw the last battle in Háztatlon, Manchego imposing himself on the enemy. The bewitched boy torturing Manchego during his schooldays, the lethal blow Sureña had delivered, and Balthazar’s spell.

  Something happened that Balthazar had never imagined. Mother invited him to be a part of her spectacle. The man blended with the wind and the cosmos and saw himself above the Devil’s Peak with his arms outspread, Mowriz behind him, rising, as if Mother were taking him away.

  “Sun, little sun,” Mowriz muttered.

  Mother was talking to the bewitched boy.

  “Sun, little sun…”

  A sly-blue light began to surround him in a spiral that gained intensity and gently enveloped him. Mowriz’s body was fading. His face was lit up from the inside, the sky-blue light came out of his eyes. All that was left was light dust that the wind swept away to carry back to its origin.

  Blue energy floated where the boy had been. It was his soul. His essence remained there. Mother had freed him from the dead body where that spirit had been imprisoned.

  Mother transported both of them in spirit to another place. It was a world that was green and dense, very like the Meridian, where they could feel a deeply intense conflict of opposing forces; the suffering of an empire made of some brown crystallized substance. In the sky, a gigantic white dragon was circling in a spiral. Its movements were those of sorrow and madness.