A voice called from behind them. “Illiana, Mozde,” Desa Thora said. “I’ll be right outside the door.”
“Close it, please,” Mozde said. He and Illiana’s heads were bent closer together as they walked. “And thank you, sister.”
“Do you think she’s really their actual sister?” Lamorun’s voice was pitched low, but still seemed far too loud for the situation. He had closed the distance between him and Lakhoni and now walked right behind his brother.
“How would I know that?” Lakhoni asked. “And what does that have to do with anything?”
“Those two might be sister and brother,” Simra said in a whisper. “They’re both tall and they look alike.”
“But Desa Thora is much shorter than them,” Alronna added.
“Not all siblings appear the same.” Hilana pointedly looked from the visibly powerful Lamorun, who was still a hand’s width taller than Lakhoni, to his brother.
“This is a foolish discussion,” Lakhoni said. He increased his pace to catch up with Illiana and Mozde. The two had reached the far side of the long oval-shaped Sanctuary and now sat on two heavy stone chairs with high backs and arm rests. The chairs were covered in soft, worn looking furs.
Mozde didn’t wait for the five companions to draw closer before he began speaking. “You have been taken because the people of Modigilza deserve protection.”
Lakhoni stopped perhaps three paces away from the seated priestess and priest. “We intended no harm.” He tried to find his center, but the thick fur underfoot obscured the cool, reliable stone of the floor. He took a careful breath.
“Desa Thora had no cause to take us captive,” Alronna said. “And, by the First Fathers, we will be given back our weapons.” She patted her side again, clearly missing her sword.
“You may call her Thora,” Illiana said. “Desa is simply a title. A leader of soldiers. Thora is our sister’s name.”
“Is she your blood sister?” Hilana asked. Lakhoni fought the urge to roll his eyes at the Zhimana woman’s useless question.
“She is not,” Mozde said. He gestured at Illiana. “But we are brother and sister, as has always been the way for the high priest and priestess of the Gods.”
Curse the Zhimana girl! Lakhoni ground his teeth, wishing Hilana would stay focused on the matter at hand. “What do you know of the Guide and the Sword?”
Illiana raised an eyebrow and took a slow breath. She opened her mouth to answer, but Mozde placed a hand on her wrist. “It would be well for you to tell us what you know of the Guide and the Sword first.”
Lakhoni took a small, angry step forward. This was unbelievable. “I said nothing of it until your sister here did.”
“But you asked about the Sign,” Illiana said. She patted Mozde’s hand and slid it off her other wrist. “Brother, I do not like it when you patronize me.”
Mozde’s expression shifted to contrition. “My apologies.” He glanced at Lakhoni, then back to Illiana. “But recent events have made me wary.”
This set off a warning in Lakhoni. “Recent events? What do you mean?”
“Hold,” Illiana said. She glanced around and Lakhoni followed her gaze. He hadn’t noticed, but the smooth stone walls were adorned in the same manner as the exterior walls of the buildings throughout the city. Except these pictures were all carved into the stone and were far crisper and clearer. Illiana leaned forward and fixed her eyes on Lakhoni. “Let us start with your first question.”
Distracted for a moment by a complex image carved into the wall behind Illiana and Mozde’s chairs, Lakhoni returned to the conversation when Simra squeezed his wrist. “My first question?” He met Illiana’s intent gaze, but felt his eyes drawn back to the carvings behind her. “I.. I asked about…” he cocked his head to the side and blinked. His eyes finally adjusted to the different light of the huge room and the air went out of him. His mind emptied completely. “Alronna.” He pointed. “Lamorun.” The image he had finally made out was of a group of men and women gathered around a strange looking tree with lines radiating out in every direction. A dark, round object was at the feet of one of the people, and many of them held spears and bows. One held a sword. Another held one of the strange looking spears or sticks with the wide top. And the entire image was enclosed in a giant double circle that took up the entire wall. The circle had a heavy double line bisecting it with wavy, complex symbols inside the space between the double lines. Finally, short straight marks radiated out from the circle in every direction.
Lakhoni sensed more than saw Lamorun coming up to his left side. Lamorun squinted, then made a surprised sound and stood straight. Alronna squeezed in tighter against Simra, who was on his right.
“I’ve seen that image,” Lamorun said.
“Me too.” Alronna took a step forward. “That circle.”
Illiana let out a long, noisy breath.
Mozde huffed. “Where? In the city, yes? On our lower priestess’s heads. And on the shields.”
“No,” Lakhoni said. “Well, of course, yes. But we grew up with this symbol.”
Mozde let out a strangled sound. “Impossible.”
Lakhoni advanced on Illiana and Mozde. Enough was enough. “This symbol was carved into the stone above our door in the home we grew up in. I watched Father carve it. Now tell us why you have a symbol I’d never seen anywhere else.” A tremor ran through Lakhoni. He took another step forward and found the edge of the fur. He planted his feet on stone and pointed at the image behind Illiana and Mozde. “And tell us why it looks like those people have a Guide and Sword in that picture. The one inside the symbol.”
Illiana stood so quickly that she seemed to erupt from her chair. “What do you mean? Why the people have a Guide and Sword?” She slipped between the stone chairs and moved toward the carving Lakhoni was intent on. Lakhoni followed her before Mozde could get between them.
“Sister, hold,” Mozde said. “This is too fast.”
“Obviously it is not.” Illiana’s eyes flashed. “The time is now.”
“What time?” Alronna sounded ready to chew rocks.
Simra squeezed Lakhoni’s hand, pulling tightly against him. The disquiet that had been filling him quieted somewhat.
Lamorun pounded a clenched fist on the arm of Illiana’s stone chair. “Speak clearly!”
Illiana raised a hand to the scene carved in the wall. She tapped the figure who had the dark circle at their feet. “This person,” she tapped the figure who held the sword, “and this one do not have the Guide and the Sword.” She turned to Lakhoni and his companions. Her eyes flashed between Lakhoni, Alronna, and Lamorun. “They are the Guide and the Sword.”
Lakhoni and Alronna…they were the Guide and Sword?
They looked at each other. A laugh bubbled up in his chest. Her lips stretched in a grin that looked dangerous with the minga lines on her face. He couldn’t help it. A gust of laughter burst from him, shaking the confusion and worry loose. Alronna joined in, her high-pitched cackles making Lakhoni laugh harder.
“Lakhoni.” Simra squeezed his hand again and yanked on his arm. “What in creation are you laughing at?”
He pulled himself together, shaking his head. “Sorry, Simra.” He met her irritated expression with a smile. “That’s just the silliest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” Lakhoni turned back to Illiana and Mozde, who shared twin expressions of confusion and anger. “My apologies.” He blew out a breath. The weight of the confusion that had been burdening him seemed to have lessened, although he still had questions.
“The silliest thing you’ve heard?” Mozde spat each word, fuming.
Illiana shook her head. “You know not what you speak of.”
“If you give us back our weapons,” Alronna said, “I’ll show you the Sword.”
Illiana jerked, a smile stretching her lips now. She snorted a mocking laugh and rolled her eyes. “The Sword? You cannot wield this Sword.”
“The Sword is the blade of the Gods,” Mozde said. “A per
son who is the instrument of justice and vengeance in the hands of Sintawanxla.”
“And do they use a sword?” Alronna asked, her voice patronizing. “Because it looks like there’s a person holding a sword in that picture right there.” She pointed.
Mozde huffed angrily.
Illiana put out a hand to forestall her brother’s angry retort. “I will say this simply and clearly.” She licked her lips and took a step closer to the companions. “So you can understand.”
“Please do,” Lakhoni said. “Because I’ve seen the Guide.” He gestured at the carving on the wall with his chin and raised eyebrows. “That round thing there, I would guess. Our mother slept above it for my entire life. It’s not a person.”
Illiana’s shoulders drooped and the arrogant angle of her face softened as she and Mozde exchanged another glance. “That is impossible, but we will get to that.” She took a deep breath and glided to her chair and sat. “What you see here,” she pointed with one upturned palm, her fingers extended, “is a symbolization of the Great Battle.”
“The Great Battle?” Simra asked. “Do you mean the conflict between the First Fathers over the right to rule?”
“When the chamshazen broke the fifth great law and dishonored their bloodline by betraying their parents?” Hilana glanced at Simra. “That conflict?”
Simra’s brows drew down and she pursed her lips, staring at Hilana. “I…suppose?” She shook her head. “Is that the one you’re talking about?”
Mozde grimaced. “No. That came later.” He sat in his chair, his gaze wandering from Simra to Lakhoni and back to the others. “We speak of the Great Battle. The one that formed land and creature.”
“You mean Creation.” Alronna put her hands out. “That has nothing to do with what we’re here for.”
“Apparently it does,” Illiana said. “Now let me speak.”
Lakhoni spread his hands to either side and caught the attention of his companions. “Let’s listen to this.”
“Please.” Lamorun gave a sweeping, dramatic gesture with one arm. “Continue.” Humor dripped from each word.
Illiana nodded with a mixture of grace and impatience. “At the world’s beginning, there were two forces: Dark and Light. They fought for dominance, using beings as ancient as the stars for their avatars. This went on for eternities until one of those beings recognized the futility of the struggle. This was Bha’gweki. The god we see as the thunderbird.” She paused and waited for an expectant moment.
Lakhoni kept silent, praying the others would too. Surely this would get somewhere soon.
“Bha’gweki caught the attention of one of the avatars of the Dark, a horned serpent who was less inclined to fight and more inclined to deceive. This was Sintawanxla. Bha’gweki convinced Sintawanxla that the eternal battle between beings as old as the stars was going nowhere, and together they created a place that would serve as an arena for the battle. They could only create if they were in complete balance with each other, neither holding dominion over the other. So with tension between them, but in balance, they made this world.” Illiana paused again and looked to her brother.
Mozde nodded and took up the telling. “This only worked because Creation requires destruction. Birth is a token of this truth.”
Lakhoni blinked. That was truly the strangest thing he’d ever heard.
“So our world was created and humanity was formed of dust and their star blood.” Mozde paused for a dramatic moment. “Yet Sintawanxla, ever the deceiver, lent power to a people who used that power to make a Sword. A mighty Sword that Sintawanxla desired that they use to dominate the entire world and win the new world for the Dark. But Bha’gweki was wise and knew the horned serpent would try to betray. So the thunderbird lent wisdom to a people to make a guide that would provide the knowledge of all things to any righteous enough to use it.”
“So there was a Guide and a Sword,” Alronna said.
“Silence,” Mozde hissed.
“I will get to that now,” Illiana said. “The two peoples used their objects of power to fight each other, with Sintawanxla and Bha’gweki urging their faction on. Each faction had a leader who wielded the object. One used the Sword. The other used the Guide. When the leader fell, the object was taken back up and used. Over generations, the wielder of the object became known as the Sword or the Guide.” Illiana stopped and pursed her lips. “The person was called the Sword or Guide, even though they still had the objects. Finally, the factions came to the place at the center of the new creation. There, a battle was fought. When neither side could find advantage, Sintawanxla sent floods to drown the people of Bha’gweki. But as soon as Sintawanxla intervened, the new world began to crack. It was too much power for the mortal world. So Bha’gweki had to intervene. First, the thunderbird made a Rod for the people to use to gain power over the waters. Then the thunderbird took up Sintawanxla, the horned serpent, and flung the god down into the crack in Creation. Bha’gweki sealed the crack with a mighty tree.” Illiana pointed at the carving in the stone wall. “That tree there.”
Mozde picked the story back up. “As the Great Battle between the mortal people went on, Bha’gweki knew any further intervention would destroy creation. So he put his power into the tree to keep the seal closed. His faction’s leader, the Guide, designated another to use the Rod to keep the waters away while the battle continued. Then the Sword and Guide—the people, mind you—came together in mighty battle. The blade from Sintawanxla shattered the moment it touched the orb. And the orb from Bha’gweki fell and cracked, losing all divine power.”
Illiana continued as Mozde took a slow breath. “The objects of power were destroyed, but for the Rod. And the people called the Guide and the Sword set aside their anger, knowing that now that the gods were removed from creation, they had to keep them away or the balance would be destroyed. So they became one people, led by the Guide and the Sword. Wisdom and justice. And the Rod remained as a symbol of a time when gods walked in this world.” As she spoke her final sentence, her voice quieted and her gaze dropped until she was looking at the floor.
Mozde turned his attention from the high priestess back to Lakhoni and his companions. “So you see, whatever objects you have can’t possibly be the objects of power.” He swallowed. “But, you must also know that the bisected circle symbol you speak of is the symbol of balance. It represents this world, sealed in the middle by the power of two mighty gods. And the fact that your father and mother knew the symbol is…strange.”
“What Mozde is not saying is that the Guide and the Sword remained at the head of a united humanity for generations.” Illiana faced the companions squarely again. She spoke carefully, each word clear and distinct. “The titles were given great reverence at first, but as mankind does, the stories of creation and a sealed crack in Creation were lost. The people fell into pride and carnality. They broke apart and the titles of Guide and Sword were lost in the dust of passing generations.” Her gaze rested for a long moment on Lakhoni. “But,” she blinked slowly and her cheeks puffed as she blew out a breath, “there is a prophecy.” She licked her lips. “That one day the Guide and the Sword will return. And that will be a dangerous day. A day when all of the children of the gods will be in danger.”
Silence fell. Her words slid through Lakhoni’s ears and settled into his bones. What was she saying? A prophecy? About the Guide and Sword people returning in a dangerous time? Illiana wouldn’t stop staring at him. His head spun with what she was implying.
Lamorun’s guffaw broke the silence. “Do you think that we are the fulfillment of your prophecy?” He laughed again and put one hand around Lakhoni’s neck and squeezed. “Would you say that Lakhoni here is the Sword or the Guide? And which one would I be?” His other hand went to Alronna’s shoulder. “Or is Alronna one of them? And what of Hilana and Simra? Are they the Dagger and the—” He dissolved into laughter. Lakhoni tried to feel the amusement that Lamorun was enjoying. He caught Alronna glancing at him, then she looked away quick
ly. She was feeling the same as he was. Something in what Illiana and Mozde had said would not leave him.
“It is not for me to decide what the prophecy means,” Illiana said, the high planes of her cheeks hardening in anger. “But the fact that your parents not only knew the symbol of balance and that it was in the top stone of your door is not a coincidence. Especially considering that you have come here.”
She was right. But questions remained. Lakhoni stepped out of Lamorun’s grasp. “But how would our parents know the symbol? They didn’t come from here.” Lakhoni’s thoughts raced. Was it possible that all the murder, all the war caused by Molgar and Gadnar amongst his people and the Azarites had really been for objects that weren’t actually the Relics of power? Were the Relics fakes? Was the Sword of Nubal that Alronna wielded simply an unusual sword that somebody had decided to say was the original Sword?
“A good question,” Mozde agreed. “Who were your parents? Do you know anything of their lineage?”
Alronna caught Lakhoni’s attention again. She raised her eyebrows. What they had learned about their parents over the last year was definitely different from what they had known their whole lives. “They didn’t tell us,” Alronna began. “Or at least not at the start.”
“They told me,” Lamorun broke in. “Mother and Father told me everything. Then they told you, Alronna.”
“They died before they said anything to me,” Lakhoni said. He blinked and he was back in his family’s stone home in the village. The utter surprise that filled him when he found the cavity in the ground under Mother’s bed returned to him.
“Please tell us everything,” Illiana said. She leaned closer.
“Spare no detail,” Mozde said.
Alronna told the story. How Mother and Father had joined forces to try to stop their parents, the rulers of two warring nations, from destroying each other. How they had fallen in love and done the only thing that seemed right. They had betrayed their own king and people, their own parents, to stop bloodshed. They had taken each king’s Relic and fled, travelling far into the wilderness where they were sure they couldn’t be found. Father had hidden the Sword inside the great taloned mountain, Sinhael. Mother had hidden the Guide under her bed, planning to eventually hide it forever somewhere else.
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