“The world is about to be plunged into war,” Mirabelle said, as if she had known this for quite some time, which she may well have. “Though they are not working together, Sirak and King Marion are out to destroy the world, as well as each other—and they are going to endanger all of the free beings of world in doing so.”
I sensed that there was something else bothering her. “You know that peace never lasts that long, Mirabelle. There will always be war.”
“Of course, I know that,” Mirabelle said. “It’s just that … you, Timor, and Iskandor have been to the future. You have seen what it will become …”
“That future doesn’t exist anymore, my love,” I reassured her. “We have changed the events, and the future will never end up that way.”
“We don’t know that, Aidan,” Mirabelle said in response. “Yes, the exact future you witnessed will never take place, but something very similar could occur.”
I had to admit, I was somewhat shaken by her words. I knew deep down that she was right—there was always the chance that the future I had witnessed would come to pass, as long as Sirak lived. But that couldn’t happen—we would find a way to stop him. We had to …
“I still think about Longchester sometimes,” Mirabelle said, her words cutting through my thoughts. “My parents are there, suffering. I want to help them so badly …” She paused and then went on. “When I was younger, my beauty was all that mattered. I’d spend hours looking in a mirror, trying to make myself look the best I could possibly be. That was my mother’s influence—‘You are nobility, my daughter, and so you must always look like nobility.’ It’s almost amusing to look back now and think about how superficial I was. Becoming a soldier changed my life, and I’ve never regretted it. I think about the greatest days I had in the knighthood, how the people admired me so, and I loved them in turn. Then I think about the entire city of people turned into Ther-lor, people who I knew and cared about … I don’t know how you dealt with it.”
I sighed and paused before answering. “Of course, my situation is a bit different. I fought with it in my mind every day, whether I wanted to save them or not. Right or wrong, that was how I felt. It is also true that there was so much else going on that my mind was otherwise occupied all the time. It certainly wasn’t the easiest time of my life.”
“I know,” Mirabelle replied. “I hope I was able to help out with your emotional turmoil.”
I chuckled to myself, which alarmed Mirabelle at first, because she didn’t know what I meant by it. But her apprehension changed into a beaming smile when I replied, “I never would have made it through that time without you.”
Her smile nearly lit up the darkness surrounding us caused by the night, like it had lit up my life. Just the image of her smile was enough to get me through any difficult time. But even as I rejoiced in our newfound love, the dark clouds of my thoughts still periodically blocked that shining light.
“As for your parents,” I went on, “we will save them. I promise you that.”
Mirabelle looked up at me hopefully, then smiled. Then she snuggled closer to me.
“Something’s on your mind,” Mirabelle said, matter-of-factly. In a very short time, she was able to learn very quickly when something was bothering me. I suspected that she had a great deal of practice, dealing with my moods.
Caught off-guard, I scrambled to recover. “I—I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” she said, in a slightly sing-song voice. She always had a way of completely disarming me, using a variety of tactics.
“I’m sorry,” I said with a sigh. “I’m just … it’s difficult when you don’t know exactly what you are.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Mirabelle said simply.
I looked at her, confused. “What do you mean, ‘it doesn’t matter’?”
“You are who you are,” she said, “and that’s quite enough for me.”
It was things like that that made my life of turmoil that much easier to deal with.
“I know we discussed the Ther-lor’s existence after the Battle of Delmar,” Mirabelle went on, returning to her earlier subject, “but I can’t help but wonder what would possess someone to do something like that to innocent people.”
“He’s crazy, my love,” I answered. “That’s all there is to it. He believes that he can save the world by turning it into something else entirely.”
“But does he even know the effect it has on the people?” Mirabelle questioned. “Everyone we talked to in Delmar told us how horrible it was—that they were fully conscious and aware of what was going on, but they could do nothing to stop it. Can you imagine? You’re in your own body, forced to kill another human being. You know it’s wrong—you would never do it if you were your normal self. You see yourself doing it, you’re afraid and desperate to stop yourself—yet you have no control. You kill that person and all you’re left with is the pain and mental anguish of what you’ve just done. And you can never be rid of that.”
It truly was a horrifying picture that Mirabelle had painted. It was like you were in prison inside your own body.
That was what Garridan felt …
I shook off that thought immediately and moved on.
“And the children …” My voice was almost a whisper.
Mirabelle nodded. We didn’t find out until later, but Sirak had kept the children in the dungeons of the White Castle. All of them, packed in there like rats. It turned out that the effects of the Sol-haleth ritual were too much for the developing minds of the young to handle. They became wild and unpredictable, almost feral. Left unchecked, they could have done significant damage to city, let alone the adult Ther-lor themselves. So Sirak caged them in the dungeons, where they screamed and snarled like monsters. It was terrifying to think about.
“He has to be stopped,” Mirabelle said in a low voice.
“He will be,” I replied. “We just have to figure out how. We don’t know where he’s keeping the souls, and it’s not like we can just walk right in to Min Lenoras. We’re not going to have the element of surprise like we did in Delmar.”
“I know, I know,” Mirabelle said, and it was clear that she was flustered.
And I knew why.
“We’ll save them, my love. I will not stop until Longchester is saved. I promise you that.”
She looked up into my eyes then, and I saw that they were dimmed with tears. I held her tighter and stared into the fire. It was difficult fighting an enemy—in this case, the Ther-lor themselves—that you really didn’t want to kill. They were still people underneath, and could be saved. But in this case, I knew that casualties could not be avoided—Sirak would be expecting us to come for him, and a silent infiltration would not be possible.
We will save them. We will stop Sirak. If it’s the last thing I do.
CHAPTER 2
Ten days passed. We continued to travel south, staying as far away from the Longchester border as we could manage—not that we would have traveled through the country anyway, with King Marion in power, and undoubtedly looking forward to the day that he would come face-to-face with all of us again. The elven forest land of Vidasel was almost directly south of Traiss, and we had headed there. We received a very warm reception from the elves, with whom I had had a great relationship with for years, something not normally found in humans. Lady Mirabelle, a knight of great renown, was welcomed with open arms. Elves revere dragons, so they considered it an honor to be in Iskandor’s presence.
As the elves honored us with their hospitality, I couldn’t help but feel, as I always did, very anxious and apprehensive while I was visiting—the reason being that my sleeping body, from my previous life (after I had been killed) was residing in one of the southern most caves of Vidasel, guarded by a young Iskandor. That body would wake up three thousand years later, in the form that I currently possessed. Timor, the wizard, had made it clear to me and to the elves that my body was not to be disturbed—if something happened to it, there was a great chance that
I would cease to exist, since my timeline would be disrupted. It was all very confusing; the part I understood the most was not to disturb my sleeping form, and that was all I needed to know.
As the elves and I greeted each other, I came across Nydel, the female elven warrior who served in the elven military, and who would be their leader in that future time, three thousand years from now. She didn’t look any different now than she would then, with the life span of the elves that stretched thousands of years. I didn’t speak to her much in this time, but every time I saw her, I couldn’t help but be appreciative of her help in the future, notably when she distracted Sirak long enough for Timor, Iskandor, and I to escape through the time portal and come back to this time. She had put her life on the line for us, and I would never forget that—but it was difficult to not be able to express that appreciation, for fear of disturbing the future.
After we had eaten a delicious elven meal, we were walking through the forest, just enjoying the peace and serenity of the elven realm, when we spotted an elf runner heading straight for us, sprinting all the way. He was holding a scroll case in his hand. Though he had probably been running for quite some time, he didn’t seem the least bit winded—elves had amazing endurance.
“Sir Aidan,” the elf said with a bow, “we just received a message for you.”
Confused, I looked around at the others. “How does anyone know we’re even here?”
“It was delivered by a falcon, my lord,” the elf answered. I nodded in understanding—it was said that animal messengers could communicate with any other animal life they encounter, and therefore, find you anywhere. But I was immediately apprehensive—a message delivered by a falcon could only come from one place …
Delmar.
I took the scroll case from the elf, who immediately departed. I pulled the top off and pulled out the piece of fine parchment, sealed with red wax, embedded with the image of a falcon. Using my dagger, I carefully removed the wax and unrolled the parchment, noticing immediately that it was from King Baladir. I immediately began to get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I read the message to myself first—it was short and to the point:
Lord Aidan,
Your presence is requested immediately at the White Castle, in response to a situation of dire importance.
King Baladir IV
“What does it say?” Mirabelle asked. I handed her the note to read.
“‘Lord’ Aidan … you’re never going to be used to that, are you?”
I shook my head. In another gesture of extreme placation or sincere gratitude, King Baladir had awarded me a piece of land in Delmar. I never did anything with it, but it still technically made me a lord. It was all very odd.
Mirabelle’s expression became grave. “I don’t like the sound of this note.”
“Nor do I,” Iskandor said quietly. “I suppose the question is, is it King Marion … or Lord Sirak?”
**********
Leaving the elven kingdom of Vidasel was about as difficult as I imagined—despite telling the elves that I had an urgent matter and needed to depart immediately, there were too many formalities, as well as offers of assistance. After I assured the elves that I appreciated their offer, and would ask for help if it were needed, and saying farewell to the proper dignitaries, we were finally cleared to leave. Once outside the forest, Iskandor shape-shifted into a dragon, and we all climbed on his back, myself in front, then Lady Mirabelle.
Flying on dragon-back was always exhilarating, the thrill of flying amongst the birds and soaring amongst the clouds enough to feel like my soul was flying just as high. Unfortunately, we couldn’t travel like this all the time—many lands in our world are anti-dragon territories, and also it is difficult to travel in secret on the back of a dragon.
After the initial thrill had settled, I found that it was also a good time to think about anything that might be on my mind, since the thrill of flying has a way of clearing the mind almost instantly. In this instance, there was only one thing on my mind: Sirak.
The fact that Lord Sirak and his Dyn’osi had claimed an area of the world in which to start his new kingdom so quickly was unsettling enough. Word of what had happened in Delmar and what he had done in Min Lenoras spread quickly, inspiring fear in the hearts of the people. After all, nobody wants to lose their soul—and that was exactly one of the main parts of the Sol-haleth ritual that was required to transform people into the Ther-lor. Word from the people of Delmar was that the process of performing the ritual was so draining to the Dyn’osi cult members that their recovery afterward took months.
The choice of Min Lenoras as the city overtaken by Sirak was intriguing to me, though not surprising. Min Lenoras was the oldest city in Athania, as well as the most modern and civilized, and as such, the people of that city believed themselves to be above the rest of the world, not only in geography (Min Lenoras was built on a mountain), but also in terms of the social and political food chain. Any visitors from other lands were treated with apathy, and sometimes outright rudeness, no matter what their race. As Lord Sirak himself had said, his mission was to “purify” the world of its greed and selfishness. With that knowledge in mind, it wasn’t difficult for one to assume that Min Lenoras was a main target in Sirak’s crusade.
We arrived in Delmar around midday. Iskandor landed in the large, round, grassy field surrounding the White Castle. The sun was peeking out through the cloudy sky, and there was a light, comfortable breeze in the air. After I dismounted, I began to walk toward the castle, but after a while, I realized that no one was following me. I turned around, seeing Iskandor and Mirabelle watching me leave.
I gave them a quizzical look. “You two waiting for something?”
“The message only summoned you to the castle,” Mirabelle responded. “We were not invited.” There was no sour note in her voice; she was merely speaking the truth.
I shrugged. “We keep no secrets from one another. If the king can’t accept that, then his message must not be that important.”
Mirabelle nodded, and Iskandor shape-shifted into his human form, then we began to walk toward the castle. The bright, peaceful atmosphere of the day was mingling with the mild pain of anxiety that I was feeling in my chest—what could King Baladir possibly want me for? He knew, better than most, how I felt about being in this city—a city that was my home for years, a city that I had felt betrayed me (whether it was actually true or not) after listening to a pile of lies, without even bothering to hear my side. Whatever King Baladir had summoned me for, it had better be important.
He had better not even thinking of trying to convince me to rejoin the White Army again.
I wouldn’t even consider it—I had been betrayed once, and I wouldn’t let it happen again. Not by them, in any case.
As we approached the gates of the White Castle, the guards maneuvered to stop us. But once they saw it was me, they bowed in apology and allowed us to pass. As a form of apology for the events prior to my death, King Baladir had made it clear that I was to be allowed access to the castle, at any time of the day or night. I wasn’t entirely sure what that gesture was supposed to prove or accomplish, but I was a bit grateful in this instance—it avoided a great deal of hassle.
As was expected, the Royal Hall was bustling with activity, with people running this way and that. Members of the Royal Guard were present in the courtroom. One of them, his back to me, was lounging around the throne—he actually appeared to be about to sit in it.
Apparently he didn’t hear us approach, because when I put my hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his armor, unleashing the strangled yelp of a dog who had just been scared out of his mind. He spun around, hand on the hilt of his sword, and his eyeballs seemed to be about to pop out their sockets when he saw who it was.
“Sir—Sir Aidan! I—I wasn’t expecting you … I mean … I didn’t know you were going to—”
“Never mind that,” I muttered, not caring about such mundane matters.
“Pull yourself together. I need you to summon the king right now.”
The soldier was wide-eyed and was ready to comply.
“There’s no need, Lord Aidan,” came a voice from the balcony. I looked up, seeing King Baladir standing there.. He then glanced down at the guard, casting him a knowing look. “There’s no danger, Samuel … return to your post.”
Confused, the guard glanced at me, then at the king, then back at me. “Of—of course, Your Majesty.” With a bow, he scurried off.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked the king.
Baladir smiled. “A dragon with enormous wings just landed outside my castle … I noticed.”
“My apologies for that, Your Highness,” Iskandor said respectfully with a bow.
Baladir put his hand up dismissively, beginning to descend down the balcony steps. “No need to apologize, Iskandor. I have been expecting you.”
“I’m sure you have,” I muttered under my breath, with a note of derision.
“How are the Knights of Iskandor?” the king asked.
“We are doing very well, thank you for asking,” I responded. “We are building a good reputation throughout the land.”
“So I’ve heard,” King Baladir said with approval. “The deeds of you and your knights are on the lips of people all throughout the land. I am sure that you do not seek my approval, but … I am proud of you.”
I knew that he meant it, but to me, his statement sounded flat, hollow. But I kept my irritation to myself. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said with a slight bow.
“I believe what you’re doing is a great thing, Aidan—” he began, but by now, I had had enough.
“Look, Baladir,” I said, dropping the king’s formal title, and not caring about the consequences, “you didn’t summon us here for this. If there is nothing else, we will take our leave—”
The Treachery Of A Weasel Page 2