by Casey Eanes
The idea of this sudden vanishing was crippling, but Kull could not let go of the vision he had of Wael as he buried his father. The memory was a strange one that ripped at Kull’s heart. Wael is alive. The vision of Wael brought with it a glimmer of hope, dimming the dark reality of having to bury his own father. It was an odd but potent mixture of grief and hope, and it refused to settle within him, stirring like an anxious, boiling water inside.
Kull looked up to the stars, trying to distract himself from his own thoughts, but the tapestry of blinking lights did little to distract his tortured mind. He stopped and let out a long sigh before inhaling a deep breath. The crisp, smoke-filled air bit at his lungs, forcing a racking cough.
“Is this the right way?” Kull whispered to the stars. “I am lost, but you know what needs to be done.” Kull closed his eyes, and he allowed his mind to focus. “Show me the way.”
Kull stood as still as possible. Staring up into the cold, dark sky he opened his eyes waited for some sign...for anything. He pulled the Key from his shirt and rubbed it between his fingers, but it was cold to the touch, its blue glow extinguished. Kull’s heart sank as he turned the Key over in his hand. It looked like any ordinary iron key. He held it with anticipation, but nothing happened. He slid the Key back to its hiding place beneath his tunic and sighed, turning a tight circle, staring through the woods outside the charred pathway, but only shadows greeted him.
Kull jumped as an owl let out a screech in the distance. He settled his nerves and shook his head. “Was just an owl. Nothing to get worked up about.”
Suddenly, a rush of wind blew through the burned grove. It pressed against Kull, swirling around his slender frame before settling. The silence of the forest returned, and Kull stood like a statue, waiting. The wind had brought a shift; Kull could feel it. Then a whisper crept through the trees like a wind carrying nothing more than a name.
“Wael,” the forest whispered to Kull. The name came and went in an instant, but it shook Kull to the core. He wrapped his cloak tight around him and sprinted forward for Taluum.
Wael. Thoughts of his former guide and teacher bolstered him with hope. As he ran, his mind wandered over all the scenarios in his mind, weighing out his words as the anticipation of being reunited with his friend and mentor filled him with hope. In his rush, his foot caught a root and sent him hurdling to the ground. Kull fell face first into the dark, sooty ground. He rose, coughing, as ash covered him from head to toe. He laughed at himself, shaking off the dust. Instinctively, he picked up a long heavy branch lying in the ash. He carried the long stick as a makeshift staff. Something to help me for the path ahead, he thought. Then he ran again, his heart dancing and his thoughts set on reuniting with the Mastermonk.
Adley stooped down, plunging an iron pot deep into the icy water of the clear stream. Hoisting it up, she took the full pot and hung it above a small fire. She quickly tended to the flames, feeding the fire with the thoroughness she applied to everything she did. She sat back, soaking in the crisp, clear morning. Even in the shadow of Seam’s destruction, Preost was unbelievably beautiful. She brought the pot to a rolling boil and emptied a bag of dirty bandages into it, each bandage dried with long, deep red streaks. She had only barely kept Wael alive. Seam’s attack on Taluum had caused a massive exodus of those few who survived, but Wael was in no position to travel. Instead, they plunged deeper into the forest, taking residence in a small, but structurally sound mountain hovel. The lodge, if you could call it that, was one of the remote cells used for the monks for prayer and intense meditation. Adley quickly turned it into a makeshift hospital in the forest.
Weeks before, Adley had been forced to explore the ruins of Taluum to gather supplies for Wael. Her field bag of antibiotics and bandages had quickly run out, as Wael’s injuries were severe. Seam’s sword had nearly gutted him. When no more supplies could be found, Adley shifted into the fieldcraft she knew—using the forest’s roots, bark, nuts, and herbs as a substitute to aid Wael’s healing. So they remained, on a tightrope of tension as Wael hung between life and death. Yet somehow, thanks to Aleph and her knowledge of herbcraft, Wael still clung to life. The Mastermonk was strong.
Rot, who had stayed beside her as her constant companion, had actually surprised Adley. The giant mutt fought through his own share of injuries, but seemed to grow stronger each day. Even though the beast was still injured, Rot’s presence gave Adley some comfort. The dog would give his last breath to defend her and his master.
Adley drained the bandages from the boiling pot and hung them in the sunlight to dry. She peered into the small hovel that held her patient. Wael was muttering again, but this time his shoulders were shivering uncontrollably, despite the heated stones Adley put around and under his cot.
“I’m coming, Wael. Don’t worry, we’ll get that fever down.” She spoke as much for herself as for him; anything to keep her moving. Adley wetted a cloth scrap and laid it over his forehead before jogging out into the woods. Aleph help me. It was time for another quick trip to gather herbs or plants that she could use to bring the fever down. The last two trips had proved to be fruitless, but she could only spare ten or fifteen minutes away from him. Adley ran south and followed a small gorge that was closer to Taluum, in a place the forest had been mostly spared. There, a thin stream snaked its way between the thick canopy.
Nothing but tall hardwoods stuck up from the ground until Adley followed a dogleg turn into the creek bed.
“Yes! Thank you!” Adley shouted as she gingerly jogged up to a mature willow tree hanging sorrowfully over the creek. Adley unsheathed her knife and dipped through the branches of its sagging canopy, pushing back layers of the tendril-like branches. She squatted and groaned as her bruised side flared up at the movement.
“This will be good for both of us, Wael, but especially for that fever.” Adley kissed the trunk of the tree before scraping at the bark, making a large pile that she secured in a small satchel hanging over her shoulder. “Thank you, Aleph,” Adley muttered as she slipped out from under the tree canopy, making her way back to Wael.
Smoke! Kull pushed his aching legs to pick up his pace once he set his sight on a thin ribbon of smoke creeping up over the tree line. It was faint but unmistakable, a running gray vesper lifting from the tree tops, highlighted by the oncoming dawn. Kull pressed as hard as he could before tripping over himself as the trail emptied into a massive open field. The clearing before him was riddled with destruction.
Kull forgot the smoke trail as he lifted himself from the ground and gazed on the crumbling walls of the once mighty fortress city of Taluum. A wide gash was cut from the fifty-foot stone wall. Kull marveled at where the outer defenses had been blown away. Pieces of the wall and mortar littered the ground, along with the corpses of monks and morels alike. Kull stepped between two monks who had both been ripped open at the waist, only to find the carcass of a morel pierced by nearly a dozen arrows. The scorched remains of destroyed rooks and titans surrounded the outermost wall.
Kull ran his hand through his hair. The fires that ravaged the forest had not spared the city. Charred husks of buildings littered the ruins inside the massive wall. The cobblestone streets were filled with rivers of filth. Long rivers of drying crimson blood painted the stones of every street, and piled around like litter were the victims of Seam’s attack. The raw, husky smell of fresh death made him gag uncontrollably, and he battled a sudden onset of nausea as he carefully threaded his way through these dark paths of the dead. It only took a few minutes until his mind understood the horrible truth. No one had been spared. Women, children, and the elderly all lay victim to Seam’s crusade, their bodies left to rot in the gutters of Aleph’s city. There had been no discrimination, no pity or mercy; only blood lust and a thirst for power.
Kull clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he ventured further into the tortured remains of the once proud and holy city. It struck Kull that the city he had longed to see his entire life was no longer a picturesque fant
asy. Instead, the city looked as if it had been pulled from the pits of hell. Fury burned beneath his skin, building with each new sight of cruelty. The carnage was worse than he could have ever imagined.
Gone. The word crept back into Kull’s mind like a persistent phantom. No one could survive this. Any hope he felt about Wael’s survival dissipated as a chill ran down his spine. He pressed on, venturing toward the city center. As he crept further he shuddered at the realization that the entire cursed place was silent. There was no wind, no birds calling, and the cicadas and crickets had ceased their calls. The only sounds were those of Kull’s own footsteps scraping against the cobbled streets.
Kull stopped at the bottom of a wide staircase that rose nearly thirty feet to a massive stone structure that had caved in on itself, leaving a display of shattered stone and splayed, burned trees. Remnants of stained glass littered the steps underfoot.
The Sanctuary! Kull scanned the rubble, his heart pounding as he searched for a way in. He has to be inside.
“I’m coming, Wael!” Kull shouted as he ran up the crumbled ruins. Kull pulled at the stones wedged on each other when a searing pain slashed down his back.
Kull screamed and spun on his heels, coming face to face with a face of death. The morel stared at Kull with milky white eyes and began drawing back its only good arm, ready to skewer him with metal claws. Kull ducked under the monster’s clumsy swing and drove his shoulder into its putrefied gut, sending the two hurtling down the stone staircase. As they hit the ground floor, Kull shoved himself away from the beast as it writhed from the impact.
The morel leapt back to its feet and lunged for him, snapping its jagged black teeth as it passed by Kull’s right ear, barely missing. Kull steadied his mind, his fingers gripping the wooden staff he had claimed in the forest. He dipped the weapon to his left, waiting. The morel growled and made a clumsy spin, readying itself for another strike.
Kull squared up with his attacker and waited, thinking back to the many sparring lessons he had as a kid with his father, the memories settling his nerves as he waited. The morel sprung from its position and Kull swung down, catching the morel in the temple, smashing the staff against its skull. The morel’s limp body fell to the ground at Kull’s feet.
As Kull turned he felt a cold hand clasp around his ankle. Kull swung around just as another ruined face turned to bite at his leg, but he smashed the staff over its jaw before kicking free. He quickly put a meter between himself and his enemy, unable to stifle the scream that roared through him. Kull steadied himself and caught a breath when he realized that the creature was pinned under a titanic piece of Taluum’s ancient stone ramparts. Kull peered over his shoulder, making sure there were no other morels lurking. As he turned back to the morel it called out to him in a clear and distinct voice.
“What are you doing here, boy?”
Kull’s skin grew cold as goosebumps ran down his neck and arms at the sounds of Isphet’s unmistakable voice.
“Don’t think you can...” Kull hammered the staff deep into the morel’s skull repeatedly, not waiting for the next word. The morel’s shoulders slumped and its caved-in skull and hollow eyes offered no evidence of any further intrusion.
Kull stood over the body, panting, waiting to ensure it didn’t move or speak again. Am I crazy? Is he nearby? How far can he control those things?
The questions scrambled his mind as Kull stepped away and tried to gather himself. He stared up at the ruined temple of Aleph, the legendary Sanctuary, as his heart slowly came down from his throat. The woven beams of ancient tree trunks that made the roof of that place were destroyed, their bark scorched from the fires of Seam’s attack. Kull knew that the chances of Wael remaining here were slim, but he forced himself up the steps toward the threshold of the Sanctuary.
An open wound of darkness was all that remained of the gigantic doors of that holy place. Kull stepped into it, cringing at the smell of ash and death that greeted him there. Bodies lay in twisted heaps on the ground, signs of a terrible struggle. Again, Kull was terrorized by the faces of monks, morels, and Dominion soldiers who lay dead, their lifeless faces staring through him. Silent and decaying, these lonesome guardians were the last congregation this once holy place would ever see. Kull stepped back out from the Sanctuary. He’s not here. If he’s alive...he is not here.
Kull stood facing out from the Sanctuary’s height, staring over the ruined city, hoping this vantage point would yield some new insight he desperately needed. A thought flickered in his mind. If anyone fled from the city, they would have gone deeper into the forest. He envisioned a crude approximation of Preost and decided that he would head northwest, away from Taluum and deeper into the wilderness in the direction of the smoke he was tracking before stumbling on the holy city. Hopefully, with Aleph’s help, he would find someone who could point him to Wael’s whereabouts. He left, carefully exiting the treacherous ruined walls of the city, toward the west, searching again for the thin plume of smoke.
Adley carefully ladled tea into Wael’s mouth. Remarkably, the Mastermonk took each sip, allowing the steaming broth to pass through his lips. Adley ensured that each spoonful made it to its mark, and Wael stared at her, his eyes both lucid and thoughtful.
“Thank you.”
Adley said nothing but nodded and went about busying herself around the hovel, prepping the new poultice she knew she would have to lay over Wael’s jagged gut wound. Wael shifted his head toward her and whispered, “Have you gotten any rest since the attack, Adley?”
Adley did not bother to look up from her rhythmic grinding of the mortar and pestle. Her answer was blunt, “No, Wael. Only a few hours each night...you weren’t with me for the first few days, but I’m glad to see you are coming back.” She flashed a warm smile his way, and Wael nodded, his eyes bright.
His voice was a shadow of his former booming baritone, but it carried well enough. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. I owe my life to you, Adley.”
Adley laid the dark green paste on the white linen bandage and chuckled. “Well, what is it that you monks say? From death comes life? Who knows, Wael, maybe you missed out on something extraordinary.”
Wael did not laugh, but smiled widely. “Everything is extraordinary, Adley. Don’t sell our world too short.”
The friendly exchange ended shortly after they heard a twig snap from outside their hovel. Another snap followed it. Adley’s hands dropped from preparing medicine and went for her rifle. Could be another morel. Over the past few weeks only a few of the hive brought with Seam’s attack had wandered near their shelter. They were easily put down, having lost whatever energy propelled them into a fury.
A third twig snapped, and Adley ran outside, crouching down behind a tree and pointing the barrel of the weapon toward the oncoming sound. Rot, ever loyal, stood by her side but was whining, his one good eye looking bright, while his tail nub wagged furiously.
“Quiet, Rot,” she whispered, her mind struggling to understand the dog’s reaction. She glanced at him, perplexed, only to look up to see a man coming out from the brush heading straight toward the hovel. His face and body were thin, and his hair was unkempt. Covered in ash and brandishing a crude staff, she at first thought he was a morel, but his eyes...something about his eyes was familiar.
She swung around the tree and held the weapon toward his head, barking, “Who are you?!”
The man blinked stupidly for a few moments, and whispered, “Adley…”
Adley did not lower the weapon. “I said who are you?! Answer the question!”
The man held out his hands and dropped the staff, “Adley...you know who I am...”
His eyes. Adley lowered the gun as her mind erupted with recognition as he said her name once more. Her hands let go, and she fell to the ground. Rot galloped toward the man, whining and wailing with joy. The man’s focus did not waver; he stood staring at her, unable to speak. She lowered herself to the ground, shaking.
“You...you...were dead. Y
ou died,” she stammered.
Kull approached her and held out his hand. “It’s okay, Adley. Everything is okay.” She clasped his hand, feeling the warmth of his body, still shocked at the sight. He took her into his embrace, and Adley began to sob. They held each other as Rot danced around them. He gazed into her eyes, full of questions.
“Is Wael…?” He dared not finish the sentence.
“Yes...he’s inside. We’ve had a hard time since you left us, but he’s alive. Thank Aleph. He’s been in and out of consciousness. Today has been a better day.”
Kull nodded and helped Adley back to her feet. “I’m here to help. I need to see him.”
The two ran to the small cottage and Adley ushered Kull into the back room. There, lying on a cot that was too small to hold his entire frame, was Wael, who tried desperately to lift himself to a sitting position to see Kull. Each movement brought a surge of agony through his gut, but the pain could not hide the awe on Wael’s face. His brow was beaded with sweat as he trembled with pain. The Mastermonk’s shaking hand snatched Kull’s as his eyes filled with tears.
“Kull! Kull, you have returned. I had many visions of you in the darkness. I thought…I thought…”
Kull gripped Wael’s hand, shocked at the depth of Wael’s injuries. “Aleph has brought me back...”
Wael interrupted as he forced himself up from the cot, “We have much to discuss.” The monk tumbled to his left and fell on his elbow, barely holding himself up in the excitement. Kull grasped his side and eased him back into the bed.
“I had to find you, Wael.” Kull looked up at Adley. “Both of you. There is still hope.”
The words brought a smile to Wael’s face and he chuckled. “The boy I took from Vale so long ago wouldn’t have thought the same.”