Destiny (The Keeper's Trilogy Book 1)

by Olivia Ali

  My eyes wonder back up to her own and I notice a single tear creeping down her cheek. Wondering if it is something you had seen, I follow her gaze back to where you are kneeling to see a young girl standing with you. I look at the way she stares at the child, so caring and devoted and then I look at the way you look at her with quiet concern blind as to who she is. Unheard to me you say something to the child and she looks back as though someone has called her name. As she looks back to you, it is like someone has yelled her name in my mind and I notice her green eyes and the resemblance they share with your beloved. It is her, the light of your life, the apple of your eye. I can see it! How can you be so blind dear brother, she is your daughter – how could you not see it? I look back to your beloved as another tear slips from her eyes as she longs for her child, to be able to shout out and tell you who she was.

  As I look back over at you, I notice someone else now who has come down from the hill with a look of joy on his face at the sight of the girl. His face is yet another which I remember, one from our past with the Keepers. He seems to care for the child, there is no doubt about it and his eyes seem to show a certain sadness, one that is probably there because you do not remember him. He leaves with the child and after a while you turn to face us and a small smile lingers at the end of her lips as she hopes you might see her, the tears from her cheeks now gone. You stare a while as she steps out of the shadow of the tree and I watch as her smile widens, her legs springing into movement as she moves towards the corn rows behind us. You begin to follow her – how was it you could see her but not me? Slowly at first but quickening in pace as she slips out of sight and passing straight through me once again.

  I begin to follow you both, you and her only just within my sight is you weave in and out of the corn. When I finally catch up to you, you are lying side by side on the floor in a heap of trampled corn, staring into the eyes of one another. Your closeness now is like you were separated only yesterday and now reunited forevermore. As you stare into her eyes with nothing but undying love and her heart begins to sing with unheard joy. You stretch out your hand to try and touch her face and I realise all her tears are gone, even as your hand passes straight through her face and she remains safe on the other side with no more tears left to cry. So instead, you just stare, your eyes finally open to see her and everything she was. I hope in time I will find the strength to show myself to you dear brother, show you everything that we were and are, to embrace you once again. So as I watch you and her now, I make this promise to you. No matter what, I will not relent from finding a way for you to see me as you see her. I will escape this world whether it be through my own brute force or you remembering me once and for all. Until then, I will remain by your side, watching over you every step you take, to protect you from danger just as brother should do, just as I would do had I been beside you in a physical form. But until then dear brother, be strong and do not falter for I am sure the five of us brothers will be reunited once more sooner or later.

  Chapter 12 - The Girl in the Field

  Dante paced the deck to the inn once more, looking up at the fading sunlight as day turned into night. He scratched the back of his head – where was that boy? Tristan was meant to meet him outside the Green Clover Inn at least an hour ago when he finished work but he was nowhere to be seen. Despite the regularity of that boy being unpredictable lately, Dante couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He leaned against the wall, staring up once again at the waning sunlight – if Tristan wasn’t going to come to him, he was going to have to find him. Stepping down from the decking, he took a brisk walk towards the guard-post by the main gate where he hoped he would find Balderick. As he neared the post, he caught sight of a vibrant purple cloak and a shiny bald head – at least one person was where they were supposed to be. Quickening his pace, he reached Balderick and the other guards in no time as the trio broke into a hefty raucous of laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” Dante asked as soon as he was in earshot, making Balderick jump as he turned to face his brother. The other guards just stopped laughing immediately, almost as if the joke was a secret never to be told.

  “Dante?” he stammered as his face immediately turned serious. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that, especially at this late hour.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “That’s alright!” Dante saw the other guards look at each other as much to say ‘I didn’t know Balderick had a brother’. They’d probably clicked on it being so when they heard both had the same accents. “What did you want anyway?”

  “You haven’t seen Tristan, have you?” asked Dante once he had ushered the Captain of the Guard away from his men and out of earshot.

  “Not since this morning no! Why do you ask?”

  “He was supposed to meet me about an hour ago outside the inn but he hasn’t shown up.”

  “Maybe he’s been held up somewhere.”

  “Well that’s what I thought, but I can’t shake the feeling something is wrong.”

  Balderick was silent for a moment. He crossed an arm over his chest and stroked his stubbled chin. He was obviously thinking about where Tristan had got to and a few moments later his facial expression dropped and his eyes widened.

  “What is it?” Dante asked, the expression worrying him.

  “I’ve just realised the significance of today,” he answered rather ominously as he turned back to his comrades. “Richie, you’ve been here since sunrise haven’t you?”

  “Of course I have boss, just like I promised!” piped up the guard, standing to attention. Despite the smart attire of his armour, he was rather gormless sounding; as though he wasn’t the brightest bolt in the box.

  “Don’t worry, this isn’t an attendance check.”

  “Oh well in that case I’ve been mostly here since sun up cap’an.”

  “Good! Have you seen Tristan pass through the gate this morning at all?”

  “Oh, uh, I don’t know. What time roughly?”

  “This morning you idiot, like I just said.”

  “Uh…”

  “He left through the front gate this morning after the Exotic Market opened up ser.” The other guard answered, this one sounding a lot less common, and sighing at the incompetence of his comrade.

  “Thank you, Wallace, at least I can count on one of you!” exclaimed Balderick, shaking his head in Richie’s direction. “Has he returned since?”

  “Not through this gate boss.”

  “Answer me this…theoretically Wallace, if you were coming back from the cemetery, which gate would you come through.”

  “That’s obviously the East you’d have to cross the bridge and at the moment that’s out of bounds for repairs, and the South would be completely out of the way unless you planned on paying a visit to the herb garret in which case…”

  “I don’t need a detailed agenda of your life Wallace; I asked a simple question and I expect a simple answer which I guess, in short, you’ve given me.” Wallace shrugged, mumbling something under his breath but Balderick ignored the comment giving Dante the impression that he didn’t care much for the sly remarks of his men. “I think I know where he might have been last so are you coming?” Dante nodded and Balderick turned to lead them out of the main gates. “Make sure this gate isn’t shut until I’m back. Wallace, you’re in charge until then, make sure the other gates are closed before night fall.” Wallace nodded, a sneaky smile appearing on his face as he silently goading Richie.

  Ignoring the silliness of his men once more, he led Dante in the direction of the old Hammerite church on the hill where the Puritans now resided. Dante was curious as to why they were heading this way, but knowing Balderick like he did – all would become clear in the long run. He followed him up and over the hill, past the church and down to a cluster of headstones just at the edge of the forest and cornfields. He came to stand by a grave just underneath a huge oak tree, observing the white rose placed in memorial. As Balderic
k looked all around, Dante took the opportunity to read the ephigy on the headstone, indicating the grave belonged to Tristan’s mother.

  “Let’s split up, we’ll cover more ground that way.” suggested Balderick, however Dante got the impression it was more of an order. “I mean he can’t have gone far!” He nodded to Dante and then began weaving in and out of the gravestones back up to the church.

  “Oh it’s okay Balderick, I’ll be fine on my own.” Dante placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “It’s not like this place ain’t somewhere I’m familiar with but no, it’s fine you just saunter off on your high horse…” he trailed off in an undertone, sighing heavily.

  He didn’t even know where to begin with searching for Tristan – it’s not as if he was familiar with Az Lagní, let alone the territories surrounding him. As he thought about where to start, a soft breeze took hold of his long hair, making him look in the direction of its origin towards the corn rows. He turned, seeing a figure pass between them which looked to be a man, the dusty trousers signifying this. Curiosity getting the better of him as it always did, he strode along in the same direction through the rows of corn. Weaving in and out, he followed the movement of the figure having lost sight of his form; watching for the shaking of each wreath as it was pushed out of the way of an unseen searcher. After a while the movement stopped and as Dante waded his way through to catch a glimpse, he found himself in a clearing with trampled corn strewn all over the ground. In the centre of the clearing was Tristan and the fading shadow of a woman sitting with his head in her lap. She looked up at Dante moments before she disappeared, green eyes standing out as the only bit of colour on her. Her mouth moved as though she was saying something, but before Dante could catch what she was saying she disappeared, Tristan’s head flopping onto the floor.

  “Balderick I’ve got him!” yelled Dante, letting what he had just seen sink in a moment before rushing to his side.

  As he waited for Balderick to catch up; that’s if he even heard Dante, he knelt by the side of Tristan’s motionless body. Placing his hand above his mouth, he breathed a sigh of relief as his warm heavy breath tickled the hairs on the back of the ancient’s hand. He moved his hand up to Tristan’s cheek to feel it was ice cold and his hair was damp to the touch. Dante couldn’t help but wonder how though – they were in the middle of summer and it hadn’t rained all day. He also wondered about the shadow of the woman he had seen and those green eyes – somewhere, some when he had seen those eyes before. Being alone for over a thousand years meant he never forgot a face; when you’re alone all you see in your head are the faces of people you know. His thoughts disappeared as he heard the corn rows being thrown aside as someone stomped to a halt behind Dante.

  “Is he okay?” Balderick asked, trying to catch his breath.

  “Yes, he’s just cold,” explained Dante, still trying to figure it all out.

  “Did you find him like this?”

  “No Balderick, I threw him in a lake and then bought him here, of course this is how I found him.”

  “Alright don’t get angsty with me!” Balderick shrugged his shoulders and glanced up at the darkening skies. “Come on, let’s get him back to mine before it gets dark.” Balderick walked off up ahead at a slow pace, weaving in and out of the corn rows.

  “Well I suppose I’ll be the one to carry ‘im then!” he exclaimed, hoisting Tristan over his shoulder carefully and rose slowly to his feet. “Gods Tristan you’re heavier than I thought.” He quickened his pace in order to not lose sight of Balderick for fear of getting lost without a guide, onward through the main gates and through the streets to Balderick’s abode.

  Chapter 13 - Dante Ashdown

  Back at the house, Dante placed Tristan on the couch whilst Balderick fetched some blankets from upstairs. A fire was lit and Dante was left to watch over the young Keeper alone whilst the captain of the guard returned to his watch. Eventually, boredom drove him in search of a bottle among the cupboards, something to take the edge off the day’s events. A sudden knock at the door made him stop, his heart beginning to race as though he expected to be set upon. Proceeding to the door, he opened it slowly, only to gaze upon a man whose eyes he appeared to recognise. The man’s hair was greying and well-trimmed around his head, the top coming to a short length. His eyes were grey too – ancient and wise like the lines on his forehead. He was dressed in a blue long-sleeved shirt which was tucked neatly into brown cotton trousers and leather gauntlets that stopped just before his elbows. The trousers too were tucked in to smartly shined boots with a cloak swung around his back to complete the look. Dante had seen him in the inn often enough telling stories by the fire to the young children, but he felt as though he was much more than that; a face from his distant past.

  “…you’re not Balderick!” he said bemused, doing a double take as he looked on.

  “Well what makes you say that?” asked Dante in his usual joking tone, almost mocking the old man who shook his head from the confusion.

  “Tell me my good fellow, where is Balderick?” The man’s voice was well-pronounced, oozing a wise and caring nature.

  “He’s…” he never got chance to finish, instead he was pushed aside by the man showing unexpected strength as he spied Tristan lying motionless on the couch.

  “Tristan?”

  “Oh, that’s alright, you come straight in…don’t mind me.”

  “You don’t exactly own this place, do you?” the old man snapped sarcastically, feeling for a pulse on Tristan’s cold-as-ice neck.

  “Okay, who are you?” Dante asked, taken aback by the man’s all too familiar nature – it was all too similar to his own and that caught him off guard.

  “My name is Merlin, I’m the town storyteller. And you are?” Dante didn’t answer straight away; his answer would need to be considered as he knew not whether this was a man he could trust. “You know what; never mind! What happened to Tristan?” Dante shrugged his shoulders and huffed as he slumped onto one of the chairs at the dining table.

  “We found him like this.”

  “We?”

  “Me and Balderick! He was supposed to meet me this evening and he never showed up so I sought out Balderick and we found him in the corn fields exactly as he is right now.”

  “And what are you to Tristan…or to Balderick for that matter.”

  “…a friend…”

  “Are you now…Mr Ashdown?” The man rose to his feet and Dante froze, his eyes darting up to look at Merlin; wondering how he knew who he was. It was at that minute that he noticed the blue flame flicker within his eyes. The flame made his heart stop, his head racing to the last time he saw it – staring death in the face. He dared to look to the tops of Merlin’s hands, seeing the scared markings of a Keeper Prodical. He gulped heavily, rising from his chair and backing up against the kitchen sides. The Keeper Prodicals were the highest of all the ranks and above all were law bringers. They were the only Keepers with the power to banish a traitor to the faded worlds and not only that, they were a master of the runes and glyphs meaning they could tell a traitor from a mile off.

  “I do not mean you any harm!” said Merlin calmly, offering his hands up to show he was unarmed.

  “Who are you?” Dante asked, his voice cracking with fear – he had only just escaped the Land of the Faded there he was determined not to go back to…not now, not ever.

  “My name is Merlin,” he answered, slowly coming to sit at the chair opposite where Dante had been. Dante remained where he stood, managing another gulp and not breaking eye contact with him. “Are you not Dante Ashdown?”

  Dante didn’t answer, instead he just stared at the man; trying to trace his name, his face, his eyes. Somewhere in his past, Merlin’s origins to him lurked but oh how they had crept up on him from a shadow deep and dark.

  “I knew your brother…I was…am a good friend of his.” Merlin continued.

  “You know my brother?”

  “Yes, your brother by blood.”


  “Nielson?”

  “Aye!”

  “You mean…he’s alive!” Dante stepped forward, returning the chair he had been sat on to its upright position and sitting himself down. The fact that he knew his brother had to be a good thing – surely it meant the two were once friends.

  “He is very much alive my dear boy,” he smiled slightly as he noticed Dante sigh with relief as his eyes welled up with tears. “I haven’t heard from him since the fall but I know he is alive.”