by T. D. Steitz
“It will be alright.” He whispered kindly. “This doesn’t change the way I see you.”
Jacosa’s breathing slowed. “What do I do?” She asked.
The man smiled. “What I ask of you will sound strange, but I need you to trust me. When this is over, there will be no doubt who the victory belongs to.”
Jacosa slowly returned to the fragmented army.
“She’s back!” Sakina shouted.
Everyone gathered slowly to hear what Jacosa had to say. She stopped and considered the faces around her. Her gaze settled on Caine and Chief Hatha. “He told us to wait for him,” she said solemnly. “Back in the temple, he said he’d show us what to do next, but we didn’t wait for him.”
Caine’s shoulders drooped as he realized his mistake.
Hatha maintained his royal supremacy.
“Even after everything we saw,” Jacosa continued. “We still tried to win this fight alone. This is what happens when you face Calamity without him.”
“Did you hear the voice again?” Sakina asked.
“I heard him, and I saw him.”
“What’s he like?” Caine asked.
“Indescribable,” Jacosa replied. “He's amazing, and for some reason, he cares about us. He told me what he wants us to do next, and this time, we have to do it his way.”
Jacosa addressed the whole group. “This isn’t going to make sense, and if you don’t want any part of it, stay here.” Jacosa explained what the man had instructed, and each soldier or hunter joined one of two groups.
Jacosa, Caine, the Forest Clan soldiers, and about thirty hunters from the Tusk Clan were ready to follow the man’s directions.
Chief Hatha and the rest of his hunters were not. Hatha was not hindering Jacosa or his hunters that wished to join her, but he would not support her either.
Amani joined Jacosa’s group. The Forest Clan soldiers charged with her safety protested, but she insisted. “Something historic is happening here, and I want to be part of it.”
Sakina stepped forward.
This time, Caine objected. “Sakina, you can’t,” he said. “When this is over, you must be there to lead us.”
Sakina turned to Caine. “Someone much greater is leading our people now. I’m going to be the Yetta that follows him.”
Caine bowed his head respectfully, and Sakina joined the group.
Jacosa took a deep, hopeful breath. “Let’s go.”
The group left their mounts behind and followed Jacosa on foot, spears in hand, back to the Key Village. As they reached the outskirts, the group spread out and surrounded the entire village. Each person stood alone. From her vantage, Jacosa could see the ring of people stretching around, and disappearing behind the rubble.
Jacosa’s heart pounded in her chest. Her palms were sweaty. She was afraid. She thought of the man. She thought of his voice, spoken to her in the dark as a child, and she pictured him striding through the desert to lift her head. “I want to follow you,” she whispered, “but I’m scared. Will you stay with me?” Jacosa felt the answer in her spirit as she stepped forward, raised her spear over her head, and shouted.
As soon as the shout left her lips, shouts from the others surrounding the Key Village joined it. Their cry was courageous and victorious, and their enemies responded.
The Fallen poured back out of the rubble. The sky exploded again with black clouds, sending hordes of dark, twisted creatures to the ground. Wyverns leaped into the air. The Fallen leader sprinted toward Jacosa. His eyes were filled with chaos and terror.
Every instinct within her screamed for her to lower her spear and defend herself. But beneath the screams, there was a soft voice. “Do not forget.” Jacosa shouted over the oncoming fury as she gripped her spear with both hands, and brought it crashing down onto her knee.
The spear snapped with a sharp crack. Jacosa was on her knees; defenseless. The rest of the circle followed. Everyone broke their spears and dropped to their knees, waiting for the tidal wave of rage to hit them. But something else hit them first.
Jacosa’s head snapped back as a great torrent of white fire dove from the sky and enveloped her. Everyone kneeling became surrounded by the same flame. The white-hot fire burned around and inside them. Branches of flame shot out from her sides. The same thing happened to the others until a vast ring of white flame linked them all.
The ring of flame stretched into the sky and sent blazing torpedoes towards the Wyverns and black clouds. The Wyverns were reduced to ash. The fire tore through the black clouds, and brilliant daylight poured through the voids. As the black veil was ripped away, the Dark Creatures returned to the fading clouds.
Jacosa’s eyes met the Fallen leader’s again. They smoldered with the deepest, darkest hatred she had ever seen. This show of power only fueled his loathing.
He screamed at her. “Don’t you know what you’ve done?! Calamity will rain his fury down on all your heads! You and your friends are already dead!” He threw his sword.
Time slowed as Jacosa watched it rotate towards her.
Then, a massive force erupted out of her. White flame sprang from her body and disintegrated the sword. The fire springing from Jacosa joined the flames leaping out of the others to create a tidal wave. The wave swept across the desert floor towards the remains of the Key village.
The Fallen leader let out one final bellow of rage as the wave of white fire crashed over him. He and his army were consumed.
Jacosa’s head dropped to her chest as she felt the fire disappear, leaving her on her knees, breathing heavily. She looked up. The Fallen were gone. A gentle breeze blew through the empty desert surrounding the Key Village. Jacosa struggled to get her wobbly legs beneath her again. She looked to her left, and her right; at all the other people who had witnessed what she had. They were all equally confused, and equally amazed.
Chapter Eighteen
Osmin’s Stand
Mud splattered Alistair’s legs as he dashed out of the mountain cave. He stood, arms outstretched, laughing in the pouring rain. Everything he knew had just been flipped upside down. Had he truly met Ardent? No, not just met, experienced. Alistair could still feel Ardent’s arms around him. The mountains and trees looked so different. The whole world glowed and pulsed in a brand-new way. Everything was as alive as he was.
Alistair started running. He tripped and sprawled out in the mud. He rolled over, laughing, and let the rain wash his face. Neither the rain nor the cold could dampen the fire in his heart. Alistair stayed in the mountains all night. The morning sun rose over the horizon, and he took it all in from a small mountain peak. The sun warmed his face. Alistair felt like he could stay there forever, but he was too eager to learn more about his new-found life. He had to get back to Osmin. Alistair ran back down the mountain, to the cave.
As he made his way through the woods, Alistair was struck by how quiet they were. The thought had occurred to him before, but this time, it was different. The silence of the mountains once unnerved him, but now he found peace in the quiet. There was freedom in the stillness to hear the only thing he wanted to hear; Ardent’s voice.
Alistair saw the cave ahead and sprinted up the hill. “Osmin! Osmin!”
Osmin came to the cave entrance.
Alistair crested the hill and stumbled into him. He grabbed him by the shoulders, with a huge grin across his face, and tried to find the words to explain what had happened. “I… He… He’s real… I met him!”
Osmin smiled wide and laughed. “There is nothing like it, is there?”
Alistair paced back and forth in the cave, running his hands through his hair. He spoke frantically to Osmin, trying to catch up with his thoughts. “It’s just, all this time, I never realized! I have so many questions! Is it all true?! The stories, the songs, all of it? You have to tell me more about him, and about you! Why the staff, and the horn? I want to know everything!”
Osmin chuckled. “Calm down.”
Alistair couldn’t. “Oh, and my eye
s, Osmin! I saw them shining like yours! Am I marked?”
“Sit down,” Osmin replied with a grin. “I will tell you everything.”
Alistair sat down and tapped his foot impatiently.
“First, yes, it is real; all of it, and more. Secondly, it is not the shining of your eyes that makes you marked. That is only a result of Ardent’s power welling up inside of someone he has marked. It is as if our bodies are too fragile to contain his power, so our eyes crack, and his light shines through. If you’ve encountered him, and you’ve felt his might inside you, then you are marked.”
Alistair nodded, soaking up every word, and eagerly awaiting more.
“As for the horn and staff, they are symbols,” Osmin continued. “The horn is a reference to something that happened long ago when Ardent walked among us. Our choice forced him to leave the world, but before he did, his armies blew horns. The legend says that these horns were not of Terrene, and they played the most indescribable symphony. The horns struck fear into the hearts of Ardent’s enemies, and when they sounded, he promised Calamity that he would be defeated the next time he heard them. The Marked Ones carry horns as a sign that we still believe in Ardent’s promise.” Osmin picked up his staff and held it out to Alistair. “The staff is only a tool; one that Ardent uses as he sees fit. He allows us to wield them, but their purpose is ultimately his decision. Sometimes he uses it as a weapon, sometimes it brings healing, sometimes protection. You see, there is no limit to what he can do, so there is no limit to what he may choose to do through us.”
“Can you teach me to use one?” Alistair blurted out.
Osmin paused. “Yes, I can. But the challenge is learning to step out of the way and let Ardent use it.” Osmin paused and sat beside Alistair. “As for learning more about Ardent, that process will never stop. Every day, since the day he marked me as his, I learn more about him. That is where your journey starts, Alistair. You must learn to listen to his voice. You must learn the courage to follow his leading.”
“I'm ready,” Alistair said eagerly. “I want to hear from him. I want to know him.”
Osmin smiled and pulled Alistair into a warm embrace. “I am so happy for you.”
Throughout the weeks that followed, Alistair spent his days with Ardent. He would bask in his presence and speak to him constantly; the way Osmin did. As the sun rose each morning, Alistair found that he could not wait to dive into the day.
One day, he sat on the cave floor before Ardent’s great, white fire. White light burst through the slits of his closed eyes as he spoke to Ardent like an old friend. Alistair heard Osmin walk into the cave and sit down. Alistair finished his conversation with Ardent, stood, and turned to talk to Osmin.
Osmin had a staff laying across his lap. “I made this for you,” he said plainly. “I think you are ready.”
Alistair took the staff from Osmin’s outstretched hands. He ran his hands over the smooth, sturdy wood and felt the scar in his hand on its surface. The scar reminded him of the fear and hatred of his past. His spirit had been freed from that turmoil, but the consequences of the decisions he had made still lingered. Alistair thought of all the people mourning lost loved ones somewhere deep in the western forests of Terrene. His heart ached for them all. One day, he would have to face the orphans he created. He would have to see the devastation of united hearts separated and parents that would never hold their children again because of him. Despite his grief, there was comfort for Alistair in the fact that when that day came, he would not have to face it alone. He would never be alone again.
Alistair’s staff began to tremble. Fissures formed along its surface and bright, white light shone through. He felt his eyes cracking, and the constant connection he felt with Ardent swelled in his heart.
“Let's get started,” Osmin said.
After weeks of relentless training, Alistair had only managed the occasional wisp of pale flame from his staff. He was discouraged. “Osmin, this isn’t working!” He said one day.
Osmin sighed. “Follow me, Alistair. I want to show you something.”
Alistair followed Osmin through the woods, past meadows, and high peaks. He followed past towering trees and massive boulders until they stopped in front of a quiet pond. The water was still, and clear.
Osmin stood beside the pond and stared into the water without saying a word.
“I don’t understand,” Alistair finally said.
“Alistair, right now your spirit is soaring,” Osmin explained. “You are overwhelmed by how vast, and powerful Ardent is. You want to go and do great things for him. I’ve been there. Your desires come from a good place, but there's something you need to understand. A life with Ardent is not an easy one. It is filled with hope and joy, yes. But it is also filled with hardship and suffering. You are on top of a mountain, but there will be many times when you will find yourself trapped in a deep, dark pit. It is those times that you will need to remember this. Ardent is powerful and vast. But he doesn’t just appear in mighty firestorms and shouts that echo through our souls. Often, he appears in a whisper. In times of despair, when you feel you cannot continue and when you feel alone, he whispers, and it is often far more powerful than anything else you will hear from him. You may be motivated enough now to think that you could do anything. However, a time will come when you realize you cannot. That is when he will do his greatest work. Quiet yourself. Hear his whisper. Surrender control to him, and you will see him do more through you than you could ever imagine.”
“How can you be sure?” Alistair asked.
“He showed me,” Osmin replied. “He has wondrous plans for you, Alistair.”
Osmin’s shoulders drooped, and Alistair heard sadness in his voice. He wanted to ask Osmin about it, but he knew that Osmin would tell him when he was ready. Alistair decided to change the subject. “So, why are we here?” He asked, expecting more training.
“This is where I began to understand,” Osmin said. “I had been marked for some time and Calamity was hunting down the others. I hid in the cave. I found myself wandering down here. I came to this little pond, and that was when my healing began. I had felt Ardent’s power in me and I had seen it at work. I knew the thrill of life that you know. The problem was that when all of that got stripped away, I hardly knew him anymore. That’s when I heard his whisper. That little whisper brought me home. It reconnected me with him in a way that no show of power could. Alistair, there is a piece of Ardent that you simply won’t experience unless you learn to hear his whispers.”
Alistair started to understand. Before he met Ardent, life was only about himself, his glory. But now, everything was different. He had a purpose far beyond his.
“Why don’t you stay here for a while,” Osmin suggested, “without this.” He took Alistair’s staff and walked back to the cave, leaving Alistair alone by the pond.
Alistair sat down beside the water and spoke to Ardent. “Ardent, I’m listening.” Alistair closed his eyes and focused on the air as it flowed in and out of his lungs. He didn’t know how long he’d been there, but after a time, he heard a whisper.
“Hello, Alistair.”
Alistair smiled at the familiar sound of Ardent’s voice.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Don’t you already know?” Alistair asked.
“Yes,” Ardent replied, “but tell me anyway.”
“Why can’t I do the things Osmin can?” Alistair asked. “I feel like a failure.”
“Alistair,” Ardent whispered gently, “you’ve been trying so hard to do those things, but you haven’t asked me if I want them to happen. It took Osmin a while to understand too, but the power within you, the power that allows you to do all the things you’re trying to do, it’s mine. I decide what to do with it. I love you, and I want you to be a part of my plans, but they are mine. You must learn to trust me.”
The whisper died down to silence. Alistair got up and headed back to the cave, wrestling with his desire for control. It was such a burden
to carry, and so difficult to release. Yet, the moment he won ground in the struggle, he found overwhelming peace in the relinquishment. While he strolled through the trees, he focused on the beauty in everything he saw and celebrated it with renewed wonder.
When Alistair got back to the cave, he found Osmin surrounded by bundles of sticks. His eyes were lit up like bright stars, and his staff flashed back and forth as he shot jets of flame in different directions, igniting the bundles and lighting up the cave. Alistair had spent a lot of time in the center of that ring of bundles without success.
Osmin stopped and turned to Alistair. “Would you like to try?”
Alistair picked up his staff and stepped into the ring. He squeezed his staff tight, and after a time, whipped it over his head and towards one of the bundles. Nothing happened. He swung again, harder, and managed a small flicker of flame, but the bundle didn’t ignite. Alistair was getting frustrated, so he quieted himself and focused on Ardent.
He began to speak from the depths of his spirit. “Ardent,” Alistair began. “I want to feel your power. I want to know you. I want you to use me. You are the one with the power to light fires in cold, dark places, and you are here.” Alistair felt Ardent’s presence growing in his heart. He felt white light burst forth from his eyes. He gripped his staff and knew that the next time he wielded it; it would respond. He swung the staff to the side and a thick blast of white fire shot out to consume a bundle of sticks.
The power in Alistair grew.
He spun around and decimated one, two, three more bundles. He felt the power growing even more, and he felt Ardent’s voice echoing within him, encouraging him on. He spun his staff over his head and slammed it down on the cave floor.
The cave shook as a wave of fire shot out from Alistair’s staff, and consumed every bundle in the cave.
Behind him, Osmin smiled and whispered. “You were right. He is ready.”
