Sword from the Sky

by R. Janvier del Valle

THE DARK EARTH RUMBLED AND LOOSENED THE NEATLY-PACKED SOIL around an eight-foot diameter on the ground. The dirt began to break away in clumps, revealing something underneath, some type of wooden door, to be exact. And it shook and rattled, until after some strenuous work, it opened into the damp air occupying the slumbering moors. The first Davinian broke light and surfaced from the underground tunnel. He climbed himself up from the ground and into the glow of the setting sun.

  “The path is clear,” the lesser Davinian said. “Let everyone come through and into the shadows of Loshendu Forest.” The Davinian turned to the west and saw the sun engrossed by a dark movement of clouds and dirt. “The sun is setting.”

  “Quickly!” said another Davinian, spouting out of the living earth. “We must get everyone to safety.”

  The Davinians had reached the edges of Loshendu Forest after traversing the two miles of winding tunnels leading out of the condemned school and into the hands of the living earth.

  “Bring the people out first, then the warriors!” Lereh said, who had broken off from her sister in order to herd the guests out of the tunnel and into the cover of the tall trees.

  In a single-file line, the Bunish people rushed out of the hole in the ground like ants spewing out of an awakened anthill. Under the silence of breaths, they marched on and into the forest, where they waited for further instructions.

  “Keep them quiet,” Lereh instructed one of the lesser blades who was escorting the guests.

  The Davinians that had survived the battle began to surface, until finally the last three, Nefiru, Tamru and Pabru, came up for air.

  “That certainly wasn’t fun,” Nefiru said.

  “The crying of the children,” Tamru lamented. “I couldn’t take it anymore; I almost lost my wits.”

  “What a way to ruin a good feast,” Pabru said, trying to insert some humor into the desperation of his friends. “You know, with the ambush and all.” It did not work.

  “Pabru!” shouted a voice. He turned and saw his friend trying his best to keep his father on his feet. He ran over to offer Vehru some help.

  As the Davinians strode up the grass-covered hills leading up to Loshendu Forest, it was apparent that in the distance, darkness was beginning to consume the diamond horizon.

  “The sun?” Luleh said as she helped Jeskun up the hill. “Where is it going?”

  The monstrous fog had completely covered the school and palace with a dense smoke, a gas made of dirt and heat. And now it seemed to them that the fog was doing the unthinkable, rising up towards the sky, seemingly making its way to the dying sun.

  “The sun is setting—for good,” Jené said.

  “The sun always sets,” Vehru said.

  “The fog covers it,” Jené replied. “The sun is setting in the midst of the bastard fog. No longer will our skies be clear. No longer will the sun set and rise in the open sky. The sun is setting for good, young servantu. Once the fog spreads throughout the night, we won’t see the sun rise again; it sets before our eyes. The light diminishes into the west.”

  “That can’t be!” Lereh said. “The fog can’t stay there forever.”

  “The same thing happened to the sunless land,” whispered Pabru. “Is our land now a sunless land?”

  “Nonsense,” Vohro said, lifting himself up from his son, finally able to compose himself enough to walk without help. “That can’t possibly happen.”

  The air and mist reigned for a moment, and silence spread across the mouths of the Davinian warriors. 

  “Oh, but it can!” shouted a golden voice coming forth from the tunnel. A lonely old warrior crept out of the hole and was immediately helped out of the earth by everyone who stood near him. Siel had managed to travel the passageway to safety after he had defeated Mahlevenieh.

  “Alta!” Vohro said, rushing up to him. “Are you all right?”

  “Only time will tell,” Siel said.

  “Alta, is what you say about the fog true?” said one second-blade Davinian, doe-eyed, wanting to take as much knowledge as possible.

  “I’m afraid so, my brave student,” Siel said.

  “So the sun sets for good,” said another Davinian.

  “Tonight, my students, we lament the death of the sun,” Siel said solemnly with a face that told of an impending doom.

  Hearing those words come out of their beloved leader dampened the Davinians’ spirits. They turned to the land in the horizon and saw horrible things. The tyrant fog covered the sky like a quilt of gray, fattened clouds, and along with the gray smoke came a thunderous windstorm made of the blackest dirt; it was so enveloping that it literally made the buildings appear as if they were being buried under the encompassing earth.

  The sun descended into darkness; it had turned weak in its brilliance and was acting in a manner akin to being deathly ill. The fog was the victor of this long battle. It had laid claim to the skies, and darkness was now triumphant over the land of Bune. Alas, as Logrec had boasted earlier, there would be no sun, no daytime, but only night. The sun would no longer be seen come morning. Only the fog and dirt would remain in the land, without a trace of the sun’s rays to remind men of warmer days. The enemies of the sun had successfully brought about a darkening of the land, and they had turned the moors of that dreary romance into a sunless country.

  The Davinians and their people stood at the edges of Loshendu Forest, weeping as they said their goodbyes to the sun; they knew deep within their hearts they might not live to bear witness to it again. A moment passed, and everyone stood still, mourning the sun’s passing. At long last, the sun diminished into the west.

  Darkness remained.

  “Will we see the sun again?” Vehru said his father.

  “As long as this fog exists, nothing bright can shine,” Vohro replied.

  “The sun has set before your eyes, my brave Davinians,” Siel said, mustering up enough strength to speak up. “Let not the sun set in your hearts.”

  Vohro realized that Siel suffered much, and as the Alta watched his school being torn to pieces, his spirit drained from him, and the Alta made a fainting gesture but was caught by one of the Flowers of Heatheranla. Lereh helped him to a nearby tree where he could sit and lean on the spacious trunk.

  “There’s someone coming!” shouted one Davinian just as Siel finished sitting down on the floor.

  Alerted, the Davinians readied themselves for another fight, but were stopped by Vohro’s intervention. “Be still!” Vohro said. “I know who comes.”

  It was Elba, and with her were a group of other Rohpas. She had brought her healing caravan and a great number of horses as aid to the Davinians. The Rohpadors came around and embedded themselves into the large crowd of students, of which a majority suffered many wounds. They quickly set up a camp around them, offering various healing stations so they could tend to the ailing warriors of Daví.

  After Vohro had readied his mind, he looked into Elba’s eyes and asked her what she did not want to be asked. “What happened to Prince Druuk?”

  Elba’s eyes sloped downward. “I don’t really know, Mastro. He asked me to deliver a message to his brother and the king, and that’s how I left him, in his room, in peace.”

  “So you don’t know if he’s still alive?”

  “I’m sorry. That would be impossible. The castle was overwhelmed with those creatures. He was defenseless. The king was slain by Mahlevenieh, and his brother, as far as I know, was consumed by the fire.”

  Vohro took a moment to grieve for his best friend.

  “And what of Luca, Mastro?” Elba said with trepidation.

  “Yes, where is the young prince?” another Rohpador asked.

  That was a good question. Where did the exile end up? In the midst of all the commotion, the Davinians had completely forgotten about their beloved friend.

  Lereh overheard the old Rohpa’s inquiry, and her eyes bloomed, as if remembering something she had promised herself never to forget. Luca.

  All of a sudden,
as if everyone had just woken up from a trance, the Davinians began to bounce off their whispers into the air.

  Luca. Where is he? Where is the boy? What happened to the fallen Davinian? Where is the exile? He was taken. He was pulled up into the sky.

  “We’ll find Luca,” Siel said, who had garnered enough energy to raise himself up and walk about. “But first we must tend to other things.” Siel walked up to the crowd of students and officials surrounding him.

  “We’ll journey to Corco, where we’ll reopen the school. The Order will survive; it must survive. Some of you will come with us, and some of you will have to depart from us. The lesser blades should prepare to journey to your homes. There you’ll wait until the land is strong enough; there you’ll anticipate for the sun to send you its rays. And yet others will have a specific quest to complete.”

  Siel called on a few of his Davinian Mejurs. “Gather all who will come with me to Corco, and gather those who will begin their journeys home, including the people of Bune, and send them on their way. See to this immediately.”

  “Yes, Alta!” they all said.

  “Jeskun!” Siel said as he called for him. “Where is Jeskun?”

  A few yards away, near a somber tree standing at the edge of the forest, sat Jeskun with his head between his knees and his hands atop his head. He had been conscious for a while but had managed to sneak away from the pack. He leaned against the tree, taking in the moonlight, lamenting the loss of his Rasplendur, never mind that he suffered bruises and needed to be attended to. Siel walked over to him. “I need you, loyal servant.”

  Jeskun did not answer.

  “Davinian, look up,” Siel said.

  Jeskun managed to raise his head so he could set his eyes on Siel.

  “Raise your arms.”

  “My arms? What for?”

  “Raise them, Mastro,” Siel said with more vigor.

  So Jeskun did what he was told and raised his arms to Siel, and when he did so, Siel proceeded to take off both of his gauntlets housing his Engal and Ersengal blades and placed them on Jeskun’s forearms. “For the valor you have shown these past few days,” Siel said as he strapped them on his arms. “You have lost a blade but have gained two more. You are now a master of the nine blades, two of which they were, now, there are three of us: myself, Vohro, and...you.”

  “Alta, that is truly an honor, but I cannot take your blades.”

  “These will do for now. You’ll return them to me when your quest is complete.”

  “My quest?”

  “You are to accompany a group of Davinians to the Sunless Land, the Land of the Crescent Moon.”

  “Yes, High Servant. But is not our land now a sunless land?”

  “Our land pales in comparison to where you’ll be going. You’ll go to seek the beast, the true beast. There you’ll wait for Luca, for though I had advised him against it, he will try to seek the beast himself, to seek his mother.”

  “His mother?”

  “Yes. Now go and gather your group.”

  “Right away, Alta!” Jeskun said as he stood up and bowed to him. He departed from Siel and into the direction of the crowd.

  Siel saw Elba preparing a horse, so he stepped her way for some words. “Where are you heading, Lady Elba?” Siel inquired upon reaching her.

  “To search for Luca,” Elba said, “and I’m wasting valuable time. He was taken by the Umbrador, but he’ll wake up alone, and he’ll fear the dark. Prince Druuk’s last will was to have me guard over him during his exile, and I’m bound to his last plea.”

  “Of course you are,” Siel said, “and I’m confident that you’ll find Luca. If he’s in danger, you must hurry, so I understand.”

  “I’ll leave my Rohpadors with you to tend to the Davinians.”

  “Thank you for that. But as Druuk asked of you one thing, may I do the same?”

  “What is that, Alta?”

  “That on his exile, you may guide Luca first to a certain place before he goes searching for his mother.”

  “His mother? But how did you know about his mother?”

  “Lady Elba, it is hard for him who believes himself to be a fool to not know all the foolish things that come from those who believe themselves to be wise. Thus, I know of Luca’s foolish ideas before they are known to him and to everyone else. I know that he’ll undertake searching for his mother against my advice, but he’s his own Davinian now. I can only offer the path to wisdom, not give it to him. Persuade him not to seek his mother, but if he still insists, have him visit somewhere first.”

  “Name it, High Servant.”

  “To start off his exile, I want you to reach the land of Sabbahdo, to the Southeast of Esterra.”

  “Sabbahdo? What is there, Alta?”

  “There you will find and talk to Wesper, an old friend.”

  “And why should we take counsel with him?”

  “If indeed the sword is not his to keep like Luca expressed, then he must return it whence it came from, and Wesper will be the one to help him on that which he seeks to do. And if that is not a good enough reason, tell him to do it because I asked him to.”

  “I’ll see to it, Alta.”

  “Very well, Elba,” Siel said, putting his hand on Elba’s horse. “Remember, old healer, return him to me. I’ll be waiting.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Elba said as she embraced Siel’s hand with his own, “but Alta, before I leave, I must have my Rohpas treat your wounds.”

  “Woman, the wounds that I have your Rohpas cannot treat,” Siel said, turning away from Elba.

  “Who is the fool now?” Elba said.

  And with those words, Siel stopped and turned to Elba, and he pondered. “I am.”

  Elba put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t underestimate my Rohpas’ powers of healing,” she said, looking into his eyes.

  At that moment, Siel saw what Elba truly was. “Woman, because you have healed so many, you can heal many more,” Siel said. “I have learned a lesson. Goodness is not lessened but multiplied when divided, thus the more good you do, the more good you can do, and the more good will exist in the world. Come, maidens of goodness,” Siel said, letting Elba’s Rohpas help him walk over to the healing station. “Take me to your station.”

  Siel directed one last smile at Elba before being led off by her healers. As Siel departed, Vohro limped his way to Elba. He carried something with him and placed it by her feet. “Lady Elba,” Vohro said. “Please, take this. It’s a new leg I had forged for Luca out of the most durable metal. When you find him, please give him this as a gift from his friends. He should appreciate it.”

  “Yes, he will,” Elba said. “Thank you, Mastro Vohro.” And the mastro departed from her.

  Once Vohro reached the caravan, he sat next to Siel, but not before saying his goodbyes to Vehru, who had been chosen by Mastro Jeskun to be part of the team in charge of seeking out the beast.

  “Your son will be all right; he is a formidable Davinian, like his father,” Siel said to his longtime pupil.

  “I told him to visit his mother one last time before he left,” Vohro said. “I had her flee to our home in Nawa a few days ago, for I sensed things were to go afoul, as they truly did.”

  “Are you ready to take this journey with me, Vohro?” Siel said in a sincere manner.

  “Of course, I am!” Vohro said right away.

  “I say this because I’m increasingly becoming weaker by the hour, and with that, I’ll be more useless to you. I fear I’ll become dead weight. Now, contrary to what you may think, my soul is not attached to the school, but suffers because of all the knowledge that has been lost with the burning of the stones. There is another school, as you know, that we must bring to life. Then, and only then, will my life be spared. So, there will come a time when the burden of our trip will be placed solely on your shoulders.”

  “My shoulders are strong, Alta,” Vohro said. “But yours are strong as well. Don’t count your demise just yet.”

/>   “I’m only making plans,” Siel said. “A man without a plan is a tree in the ground. Why be animated if there is no work to be done?”

  Mastro Jeskun approached the two master Davinians as they were being attended to by Elba’s Rohpas. “The team has been assembled and ready to go, Alta,” Jeskun said, who was now bandaged and on his journey to recovery.

  “And whom will you be taking?” Siel said.

  “Vehru of Nawa, Kahsy of the Plains of Neveten, Jené Jenóu of Janvai, Luleh and Lereh of Heatheranla, Tamru of Nawa, Swaso of Reyhdor, Pabru of Bune, and Nefiru, a prince of Corco.”

  “I don’t think the Corcoban family will be pleased of this,” Vohro said. “I wouldn’t expect a warm welcome.”

  “Regardless, I think that’s a good choice,” Siel said. “Though, the older flower of Heatheranla must not go with you; I have other plans for her. Let this be known to Lereh. Don’t waste any more time, Jeskun. Be on your way.”

  “All right, Alta,” Jeskun said as he smiled at both of them and stood in their midst for a few seconds, as if saying one last goodbye to his fellow mentors.

  “Good travels,” Vohro said. Jeskun turned and walked away to join his group.

  Across the camp, Elba made her final preparations, and she could not get the thought of Luca being in peril out of her mind, so she had to stop and steady her breaths. A young girl on a horse came upon her.

  “So are we all set?” Lereh said.

  “We?”

  “I was to go with Mastro Jeskun’s team, but the Alta asked me to accompany you instead.”

  “Young Flower, the journey I’m about to undertake is a perilous one. You can’t comprehend the forces we’ll encounter.”

  “Lady Elba, am I not Davinian?”

  “What you are makes little difference in the war we will be seeking.”

  “War?”

  “Yes, war, a war that will transcend the world as you know it.”

  Shocked, Lereh stared at the elder Rohpa, and she reached for the medallion she kept tied around her neck. She rubbed it a few times. “Rohpa, you’ll need my blades, for we’ll be coming upon all sorts of beasts.” Lereh said this with a hidden insight, something that she had discovered a long time ago, and Elba knew that this young girl had seen many things and knew much more than the average Davinian.

  “Very well, Lereh. We’ll go together to find the boy and head out to seek his mother.”

  “His mother?”

  “Yes, Flower. Luca will be seeking his mother in the very depths of despair. And we’ll go with him. But first we must find him in the forest, for I sense him there—and I fear he’s not alone.”

  “Who’s with him?”

  Elba’s eyes turned, as if she now belonged to another world. “You don’t want to know.”

  And without hesitation, both of them set off on their horses through the crowd of Davinians. Before leaving them, Lereh rode up to Vehru. “Take care of my sister, little one,” she said.

  “Little one?” Vehru said.

  “Just take care of her,” Lereh said, trotting away from him while Vehru watched them make their descent into the darkness of the forest.

  Vehru turned and ran up near the edge of the camp, where Mastro Jeskun had already gathered his party. The mastro came upon them on his horse and cried, “We have a beast to catch. It’s a long road ahead to the sunless land. We must make haste. Come now, come, you sons and daughters of the sun!”

  Jeskun tapped his horse on its side and it made a wailing sound as it galloped away into the horizon while the rest of the party did their best to keep up.

  “Let’s go, friend!” Pabru said as he rode off. “Another adventure in the cover of night!”

  Vehru quickly mounted his horse and sped off to regroup with his team.

  Siel watched the team trot down the sloping hills and in the direction of the crescent moon. He stood amidst the aftermath of the burying of the land and pondered on what was to come next.

  “You’re already thinking about what will be our next step,” Vohro said. “Are you not?”

  “A wise man does not need to ponder on his next step,” Siel said. “For that is easy. You just place your foot in front of the other and start walking.”

  “Where is Corco?” Vohro said with a smile.

  “To the North.”

  “So to the North we shall make our first step,” Vohro said.

  Siel smiled first at his beloved mastro, but then his face turned serious.

  “Your thoughts are with Luca,” Vohro said, who also had his own thoughts on the fallen servantu.

  “Elba and Lereh are already on their way to him,” Siel said. “He must be lonely in that forsaken forest.”

  “Luca is a strong lad, like his father was. They will get to him soon enough.” Vohro reached out to his Alta. “Come now, we must begin on our journey.” And they started to make their preparations.