Destiny (The Keeper's Trilogy Book 1)

by Olivia Ali

  I.VI – The Eye of the Storm

  The Eye of the Storm is a crystal about the size of a man's fist and capable of immense power. In life, the power inside the crystal was a man who had two brothers (see Cesca’s Treatise on the Broken Brotherhood). One was born from a Storm, the other of Sorrow and the other of Unity. Storm and Sorrow were ruthless and always jealous of their brother. They tried to plot against him but failed and their power became trapped inside crystals to contain them (also see section on the Ruby of Sorrow).

  The Eye is said to talk to the hearts of men who are most vulnerable, but only those who have seen time can truly possess the Eye, even if just for a short while. The true extent of its power has never been witnessed by a living man and stories of its power I'm sure are heavily exaggerated. When it was seized from the seventh generation of Brothers, the Eye was sealed away in a Cathedral owned by the Hammerites in Camto, Degstan protected by both the living and dead. Such desperate measures must be taken when considering an item of this grandeur (see section on the Forgotten Cathedral ).

  Despite its short history, there are many legends regarding a crystal of this appearance. All such legends talk of an actual human eye lying in the centre of the crystal that is only visible to those most vulnerable when they hear the words it speaks. Other legends speak of its brother; The Ruby of Sorrow in its most simplistic form, a red crystal. When the two are united within the Maw of Chaos, they are capable of corrupting any generation of souls who are named, cursing them to an eternity of Betrayal and evil. Such a curse if often linked to why The Brothers of Union turned however, there is likely little truth to this myth.

  The last legend I would like to mention talks of the crystal having power beyond its own destruction. Supposedly, The Eye is linked to the Faded Lands which would actually make a lot of sense with regards to the soul that lies within it. It is said that when the Eye is destroyed, the place which it is in becomes immediately linked to the Land of the Faded. Therefore any soul that dies within the proximity goes straight there, their body left to rot in the physical world. It is not known how true this is, but given the constant unstableness of the border of the Faded Lands the likelihood of this being plausible is actually rather credible. Whether or not the spirit could be resurrected or not is not known. But I imagine that if a person had been struck by the Bleak Unwritten (see Palus' Treatise on the Unwritten Times) and then remembers the soul they lost to the Eye and to the Faded Lands, it is believable that such a power could be imaginable at least.

  As you turn the page to finish the passage, a piece of parchment falls to the floor without you noticing. Dante sees it though and picks it up, placing it before your eyes to read.

  The Eye was thought lost after the fiftieth generation stole it from the Cathedral on a mission from Sarisus. But their intentions were more than they seemed for they wanted to destroy the Eye once it had reached maximum power within the Maw of Chaos. The plan had gone ahead, but somewhere along the line there must have been a hiccup because two years later it turned up in a museum in Hasaghar. Having retrieved it to make the Final Glyph, the fiftieth generation were once again in possession of it. But it had quite a hold over one of them and tempted them into betraying. Resisted though he did, it was difficult. After placing The Eye in the fountain of the southern district, nothing had happened like it was meant to. In a fit of rage, Nobility took a hammer to the Eye, smashing the crystal into a million tiny pieces and summoning the Final Glyph. Only Union can destroy what Union put there so it would seem that perhaps Nobility was the culprit behind the creation of The Eye hence its control over him. It is therefore possible that the legend stated by Oglivy is a repercussion of one member of Union destroying a Sentient without the support of their brothers.

  Those words were my own, and as you finished reading them, I recalled writing them so shortly after Dagnen’s death. I had been the only one you told about the voices you were hearing from The Eye and I had helped you work through it. I had told you that Destiny isn't set in stone. Anything can change it meaning anything can happen. Our actions control us, not fate.

  I looked up and see your face so full of light and wonderment. The passage itself had answered a lot of questions that I and probably her both had. I remember my death as though it were yesterday, but then it might as well have been. In the Faded Lands the days melted into one but in this world of light and dark the difference was clear and made me miss a physical presence in this world even more. I had even missed the way I had felt when I had died, that feeling of pain and life rushing out of my veins. I didn't feel alive anymore - I was truly dead it seemed - and you my brother would make me alive again eventually.

  But first, I had to help you along the way, starting with her. Something was keeping her in this world and therefore making her die and I wasn't sure what. Perhaps there was something in the world of light that she didn't want, that she didn't care for. But again, what? Whatever it was, I would surely find out and before long she would be yours again and we would both join you in this world of light. I watched as you looked over at Dante who looked as though he hadn't believed the words he had just heard. He was confused, you were confused. But if it were all true than we weren't dead, we were alive and had every opportunity to come back to your world of light. And that is something I greatly wanted dear brother. I wanted to feel again, to be felt. I wanted my beloved and I wanted you. I wanted everything this world of light had to offer, even the bastard that sent me here - I wanted to get my hands on him and gut him limb from limb...

  Wait...that was it! What if that was what she didn't want? She obviously wanted to be with you and with your daughter, but perhaps she didn't want what put her here and that's what held her to this world. I had to show her that didn't matter, and that all she had to do was make herself reborn. It would be a mighty task, but I fancied my chances I must say. I guess I had you to thank for that; for my witty remarks dear brother, I had you to learn from my whole life, even if it should've have been the other way around.

  Chapter 38 - More Than Remembering

  As he read the words from the passage, the words of The Eye came creeping back to his ears like some horrible nightmare. Those nightmares that the more you try to desperately wake yourself up from the deeper in you slip. It's one of those nightmares that repeats over and over until you're out of the phase that caused that nightmare, whatever that phase might be. Those kinds of nightmares are the worst, they're the sort where if they came to life, actual life wouldn’t be worth living no matter who was in it and what your purpose in it was. Tristan removed them from his mind easy enough for the moment though, that was the difference between then and now. Back then The Eye spoke of him betraying the Keepers and everyone he loved. Those weren't his fears any more though, and they probably never would be again. Now his fears involved losing his daughter.

  "So this passage here," Dante began, disturbing the silence. "There’s a possibility that both Dagnen and Romeo are alive."

  "I think so!" Tristan stammered, trying to make sense of it in his own head before he attempted to explain it to someone else. "I mean if the legends are true then there's an overlap of worlds in Hasaghar. I imagine it's like the faded lands overlap the real world and that the two intermingle with each other. That's why there are so many stories at the moment about that place being like a ghost town, because it literally is."

  "Do you reckon that's how I came back?"

  "You'd have ended up in Hasaghar if you did. But it might answer why people are coming back before I've even remembered them..."

  "Like me I take it." A voice came from the entrance of the Shrine. Both Dante and Tristan turned to find a man stood in between the bookcases. How long he had been standing there they did not know. But then who even was he? He looked familiar but Tristan just couldn't place his face.

  "How did you get in here?" Dante blurted out more out of apprehension than actual curiosity.

  "Maybe I should be asking you the same thing?"


  He stated in a mocking tone which seemed to match his demeanour, like it was just in his nature to do so. Then again, his expression was cheeky looking, like a child who constantly tested the limits of their unwitting parent. Come to think of it his stance even gave away the same casual nonchalant approach; like you could say anything to him, even insult him and it would not faze him.

  "Wait a minute," Dante yelled, pointing a finger at the man as though it had just dawned on him who he was - a notable figure maybe. "You're that Ser from the ball the other night. What was your name...Brandon something?"

  The man raised his sublime eyebrows and clapped his large hands together twice.

  "Well done...but not correct." He folded his arms across his chest and looked down on them as he took a few steps closer to them. "You see I too was faking my identity."

  "I knew it!"

  "Did you? Did you really?"

  "Yes...I mean what kind of name is Brandon anyway."

  "You do realise you sound like an idiot?" Dante looked back at Tristan as though to ask him to back his corner, stand up and say 'he's no idiot' like some sort of doting follower.

  "He is right you know," Tristan said quietly, not making eye contact with Dante.

  There was silence for a while as Dante tried to shake off his moment of humiliation. Tristan on the other hand was desperately trying to place the face of the man that stood before them with the brown hair that curled up at the base of his neck; the green eyes that were not so dis-similar to Dante's - deep set in a mysterious sort of way.

  "Zhaine?" Tristan whispered to himself in thought as the name that belonged to the face came swimming back to him. “Zhaine Veres?” The man nodded as the smile turned from one of sarcasm to one of pure happiness.

  "Veres?" Dante repeated as the name struck a meaning with him. Veres was he and Nielson's shared middle name, it had been their father's name and meant victory to the lands in the far south of Aberson. It couldn't be, surely? It would make sense for Nielson to change his last name, especially after what Dante did.

  "The honourable Zhaine Veres I would prefer," the smile was back on his face now and his sarcasm had reached the surface too. "But Zhaine will do I suppose."

  "You've not changed one bit, have you?" Tristan joked, sharing the smile as he stepped forward to grasp his brother in a sentimental clinch.

  "I never change for anyone you should know that."

  "And Ramien?" The two broke away and again the smile faded. Out of all the people he had been reunited with, Zhaine seemed the most broken; like he had been strong all his life but now his resolve was breaking and taking his defences with it.

  "Not seen him since it happened. It's not just about remembering anymore though Tristan. You've got to take action!"

  "Good job I have then." Tristan turned back to face Zhaine, catching Dante's glance as he did so. The man was lost deep in thought, his eyes filled with doubt as they raced from side to side with theories unknown to Tristan. He decided to leave him to it for now, Zhaine obviously wasn't concerned with who he was and neither was Dante for the moment.

  "Don't tell me you're the reason they're screaming murder on the streets? The pawn shop owner was found dead with a chunk of his face missing. Pretty gruesome from what I hear."

  "I think you'll find his name was Tabacious."

  Zhaine's grin dropped, his face slipping into momentary shock - he had only been joking about Tristan being the reason the streets were rife with guards. He hadn't expected it to be true.

  "And we had...unfinished business."

  "So that’s what it's come to then?"

  "I'm finished here Zhaine, it's time to move on to the next bit. But I can't go without tying up these lose ends and I can't leave without Myrina."

  "So you've seen her then?"

  "Yes! And he has Felix too according to Boris."

  "So I've heard. But what's your plan Tristan; by the God's tell me you have a plan."

  "I have a baseline but we'll leave it at that for now."

  "Just like old times. Anyway, who's your friend?"

  "Meet Dante Ashdown!"

  The utterance of his own name bought Dante out of his thoughts and suddenly he was nervous. Too many people were beginning to know who he really was and it was worrying him greatly. No way would he go back to the Land of the Faded, he'd rather die. But the significance of who the two were to each other had only just struck Tristan, if he'd realised sooner, he'd have introduced them sooner.

  "Not as in my dad's brother Dante Ashdown?"

  Zhaine marvelled in disbelief. His father had told him a couple of stories about the fifth generation of brothers after he discovered that he himself was one but he hadn't told him that he was blood related to one of them - Zhaine had worked that much out for himself but never said anything. He could tell by the look in his father's eyes it wasn't a subject he spoke of without pain.

  "Apparently so," Dante managed, his voice shaking.

  "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me...if you are trying to keep it a secret that is."

  "I'm going by Daxon for the moment.”

  "Daxon - I like it. I assume you never knew you had nephews?"

  "Nephews?"

  "I've got two older brothers - Rafe is...was the oldest of us all, he was killed while we were Acolytes. Then there's my brother Ramien, there's not much between us, just over a year whereas Rafe is much older. Eight years separated me and him but we don't share the same mother. Dad never spoke much about her to be honest."

  "It seems I get more family by the minute. I mean first I find out I've got a great granddaughter and now nephews." Dante sighed heavily, shrinking back and leaning against the desk behind him overwhelmed.

  "You know your dad's here," Tristan said after a while.

  "He is?" Zhaine gasped. "I was beginning to think he was dead. He never faded like the rest of us."

  "Guess you can't fade twice then."

  "I imagine it's something like that. So, does he not know you're back then Dante?"

  "Nope!" Dante sighed. "Can't bring myself to tell him just yet. Not to mention the fact that I don’t want Basso finding out."

  "Basso is here too?"

  "Yes. I don't trust him though, so he can't find out."

  Zhaine nodded and left the subject alone. His uncle puzzled him, surely his father would be made up if he saw him again, but then maybe their relationship was a bit more complicated than either were letting on.

  "So you think she's alive then, Dagnen I mean?" Zhaine assumed after a while.

  "Yes, I do. I see her everywhere I go, she's always by my side. I don't know how it's possible though, unless she is Greater faded. Have you seen her?"

  "I think I saw her back there, I mean it had to be her. I could be wrong though, I only saw her the once and it was from a distance. But I could tell those eyes anywhere..."

  "You can't give him flash hope like that!" Dante stated, stepping forward and looking down on Zhaine in a threatening manner.

  "Oh and I suppose you know what's best for him do you?"

  "I'm not saying that!"

  "Then what are you saying?"

  "Look the girl is my granddaughter of course I'd want her to be alive but I have to be realistic. Yes, the book said according to legend once the Eye is destroyed the Faded lands will lie over the Land like a blanket and all those that die will transcend to the world above. But that doesn't mean that they can come back from it least of all whether that be alive or dead."

  "He can still hope..."

  "I'm not saying he can't hope. All I'm saying is he needs to come at this from two approaches. The first being that she could come back but in that same instant she could drop to the floor and die in his arms all over again. She has no body to come back to so she's just a spirit really. Of course, he can think that she lives and that's as far as it can go. Otherwise he's just going to break all over again."

  "You don't know him like I do..."

  "I am still here you know
!" blurted Tristan, sick of neither of them acknowledging his opinion.

  Everyone since he had started remembering had been more about what they thought was best for him rather than asking him what he thought. The two were definitely related the way they argued though.

  "Neither of you know what's best for me. So I suggest you both just pipe down...okay?"

  The two of them nodded, neither having expected his outburst. He shook his head and stormed out of the Shrine and Zhaine cast a look in Dante's direction questioning why he started that.

  "Don't start!" he smirked before Zhaine even had chance to open his mouth.

  Dante stormed out of the Shrine after Tristan, knocking into Zhaine deliberately as he passed him. The man was actually rather childish for someone who was older than a thousand years. But as he'd been banished at the age of maybe thirty at the eldest perhaps a thousand years of torture didn't leave much room for growing old.