Spirit Followers

by Lydia Redwine

  “We fight,” Heiron declared to her immense surprise. He rose from the stone table and directed his gaze across the room at Tyron and then down at Cam. “There was once a time when the Spirit Followers aided each of the realms after the war with Shadow Bearers. They helped us piece our society back together. We are grateful for them. Their leader was a great man, capable of ruling the entire kingdom. When he was seen as a threat, those in ruling positions assassinated him along with his immediate followers. Your mother was one of them.”

  “So you’re suggesting that we aid them?” Tyron asked as he turned to face Heiron. Imber Fel’s leader nodded.

  “Besides, is there any way to avoid being involved in a war? Apollyon will attack us no matter what.”

  Tyron drifted into deep thought. Cam and Heiron awaited his reply. If there was to be an army on their side, Tyron would have to provide it. “There has to be more to this. Why would Apollyon aim to take out a whole civilization if he only wished to kill a single minority group of people?”

  “Perhaps there is another scheme beneath obliterating the Spirit Followers. But nevertheless, the facts underlying the attempt are too foggy for now,” Heiron stated.

  “Leave me time to consider our next actions,” Tyron said, his voice cracking. His eyes were the color of gray agony. He departed from the room and Cam and Heiron exchanged concerned looks. He had gone to mourn his son’s death.

  As Cam walked from, the room the conversation turned over in her mind. She was against Apollyon, that much she knew. He and his allies had committed too many wrongs to convince her to jump ship. Maybe Peter knew more about Apollyon’s reason for revolt.

  She found him in the Great Hall. The room was almost completely desolate except for him and the few who were cleaning after the previous meal. He was sitting at a table sharpening a knife on a wet stone.

  “Can you talk?" She eased onto the bench across from him.

  "Yes, I know how to talk,” he returned without looking up.

  Cam sighed. "No, I mean do you have time to answer a question I have?"

  "Does it look like I am busy?" He set his knife on the table and gave her his full attention. "It doesn't look like I have much of a choice anyway." He leaned into the table. She sighed again, this time more softly.

  “What do you know of Apollyon’s revolt?”

  Peter was silent for a long moment. Finally, he looked up. He glanced around to assure that no one could hear them. He spoke in a low voice. Cam leaned closer so as to hear his words more clearly. "My sister came to the Royalty Realm to visit about a week after you left. She said she had met you and had made you flee to warn the rest of the realms of the revolt. She hadn't any inkling as to your extent of knowledge about the Spirit Followers so she did not say a word about us to you. She told me she knew why Apollyon was planning the revolt in order to destroy the Spirit Followers by drawing them to the war so they could be rid of forever."

  Cam mulled over the information. "How did your sister learn this?”

  "Saffira has been a secret member of the Spirit Followers for about two years now and she's been in the Gnosi Realm watching certain people. She has been successful in teaching some of the citizens there about our faith. Some have joined us. She grew up with Apollyon’s son, and thus, gains access to some information from him but-”

  "Riah,” Cam murmured.

  Peter nodded. “She gathered the intel regarding Apollyon’s revolt from spying on him and some secret guest he is keeping there. This guest he…well he might be…” Peter paused as if wondering if he should continue.

  “He might be what?”

  Peter locked his gaze with Cam’s. He shrugged. “He might be connected with my father.” His voice was nearly inaudible. Seeing that Peter seemed unwilling to elaborate, Cam changed the subject.

  “Are there any other Spirit Followers not in the Black Mountains?”

  "You ask a lot of questions," Peter replied. His tone sounded annoyed but when Cam shot him a glare, he was grinning slightly. Cam said nothing as Peter stared over her shoulder. "She’s one," he said finally. Cam turned her head and spotted Lia walking towards them.

  "Of course. She has the dove painted on her.” Cam was prepared to fire more questions at Peter, but Lia was approaching quickly.

  "I've been looking for you two." Lia sat next to Cam. Her usual smile was replaced with a faraway expression. Peter replied that they had just been talking. Cam said nothing but observed Lia silently. She was still wondering about Lia's work as a Spirit Follower. Of course, it made sense now why she was just "visiting home" but also at the Royalty Realm "just seeing her father."

  Cam almost felt tempted to tell her she knew, but she believed that Peter would have rather her keep everything he had said between them. “I just came from my own cavern,” Lia replied. “I will be joining Tyron for his meal tonight. I suppose it is best to grieve together.”

  Peter and Cam remained silent until Peter diverted the subject to something else. “Cam, where areyour sisters? I saw three of them earlier, but the other one seems to be missing.” She felt the familiar pang when her mind flashed to Terra. She realized she had not yet related to Peter Terra’s demise. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words could not form around the lump in her throat. Peter looked at her expectantly. She felt tears pressing their way into her eyes, but she refused to cry before him.

  Lia placed her hand comfortingly on her shoulder. “Peter, not now,” she said quietly. Peter frowned and looked somewhat confused. He dropped the subject. Cam noticed that she was twisting her shirt in a ball with her fingers.

  Without a word, Cam stood and retreated from the room. “What’s her problem?” Cam heard Peter say in a low voice to Lia. She brushed a tear from her cheek as she pushed open the doors of the Great Hall.

  She took to roaming the halls to distract herself. Perhaps, it would help to actually talk to someone about her troubles, but Cam would not. She knew it was because of fear. She was fearful that the sorrow of Terra’s death would weaken her. The word death was used to just mean the end of life, now it meant the end of precious time spent with someone she loved. Cam lost had part of herself when Terra had died. She sighed a long, despairing sigh and walked through the castle to the cavern that served as her bedchamber. She shut the door, almost slamming it, and sank to the floor. She buried her face in her hands, and a sob escaped her.

  Cam must have fallen asleep, for when she awoke she was lying in

  front of the door, her head resting upon a rug of soft animal skin. The room was dark, for the fire had died in the hearth. She stood up, still feeling heavy, tired, and sad. She glimpsed herself in the mirror. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying. Her hair was in a tangled mass.

  She looked past herself at the room behind her and gasped in horror at the sight on the wall.

  Whirling to obtain a better view, she drank in the sight of blood smear upon the wall in crudely painted words. “All doves will be slain.” Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she gaped at the sight. She stumbled closer and reached a hand forward to touch the words. When she withdrew her hand, the fresh blood was stained on her fingers. It must have been done while she was sleeping, for it certainly was not there when she first entered the cavern. The thought of someone in her room painting such a warning while she slept sent shivers skittering up her spine. Who had done it? Her mind switched to the message itself. Again, she read: “All doves will be slain.” Who was going to die next?

  She swallowed hard.

  Cam backed from the room, suddenly feeling a sense of uneasiness crawling over her. When she shut the door behind her with a shaking hand and stood in the hall. She released the breath she had been holding. She fled towards the Great Hall.

  “The peopleofGnosi arecleverandmanipulativewith their words. They use them to their advantage. Their riddles tangle a person’s mind. Shael has awoken many nights having heard their strange whisperings in his mind. Emma has told me that at one point, they wo
uld gather and discuss all topics of humanity. They would sit, study, and create the laws of the land. Their politics remind me of my previous place of inhabitance. Not home. Not Enboria. Mingroth-the Valley Of Poison.”

  -From the writings of Daniel Adriel on his travels in Mirabelle, written during the Third Age.

  Thirty-One

  At first, Fiera was not sure she could eat at all, not with all the

  weight draped on her heart. Caleb had arrived in her room shortly before the supper session started. “Come on Fi, come eat with me. Will you?” She agreed reluctantly and walked with him to the hall. When they entered, a white hand beckoned from near the center. It was Glista, smiling broadly at Caleb. Fiera’s heart instantly sank when she realized that Caleb intended on sitting with her. She gritted her teeth to keep back her apparent annoyance and followed Caleb. Sheplacedher handon his shoulder soshewouldn’t losehim in the weaving crowd.

  "Caleb!" exclaimed Glista, bounding from her seat to embrace him, but before she could do so, he slipped onto the bench opposite her with Fiera beside him. Fiera merely nodded to Glista in greeting, a gesture Glista chose to ignore. "I heard about Lord Tyron's son. The news brings my people and me great sorrow!"

  Fiera’s hand was warmed to slap her. Glista certainly didn’t seem like she was sad about it. Caleb placed a calming hand on Fiera’s back to keep her from lunging towards her. Caleb nodded in reply to Glista’s statement. He handed Fiera a platter of meat and hunk of bread with cheese. She received it gratefully but didn’t eat much. Normally, she would have swept her plate clean in a matter of small time. This time, she was nibbling slowly on the soft bread. Glista began to chatter on about the “horrible” journey to the south and how they didn’t dare venture into the “strange valley.”

  “You belong in Gnosi Realm,” Fiera thought to herself after Glista made a comment on how much better the Imber Fel Realm was verses “this hole.”

  “What will become of these people when we go to battle? If we go to battle,” Fiera murmured to Caleb when Glista turned to converse to one of her people who had approached their table.

  “Hide them. Most will not be capable of defending themselves in battle. Though they will provide poison.” He glanced pointedly at Glista. After a long moment in which Caleb had finished the rest of his meal, he added, “Do not be so hard on her, Fi. I know she is irritating, but you are too sometimes.” Fiera was prepared to glare in his direction but found that he was grinning.

  She did not share in his amusement. “Kane would say that.” Caleb no dded. “Yes, he would. Where do youthink I learned to be kind?”

  Fiera cracked a small smile. “You mean you weren’t always…kind?”

  “Nor good humored. And sometimes…it is a mask.”

  Fiera did not have much time to wonder at his statement before Glista began chattering to him again, and she saw that Cam had entered the Great Hall at last.

  When Cam walked into the Great Hall, she found that it

  thrummed with sounds and movement heightened beyond its normal capacity. The colors of blue mixing with the blacks blended in moving forms, carrying platters of steaming food about the vast room. The clatter of dishes, laughter, and talk filled her ears. She smelled the delicious aroma of meat and realized how hungry she had become.

  She glanced towards the line where the food was positioned and saw Peter. Cam slowly approached him. “Cam, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know about your sister, but uh, Lia told me,” he said when she had drawn up beside him. Cam nodded and turned to walk away for she didn’t want to cry in front of him. Nevertheless, he grasped her arm and pulled her gently back. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be,” she replied quietly, not sure at all that she would be.

  The response was automatic, void of any feeling. Peter only nodded and released her arm. “I, I want you to know that I understand what you’re going through. I’velost someoneI love too.” Peter placedhis hands on her shoulders and searched her troubled face. His eyes were full of earnest expression.

  “Your father. I know.”

  "Uh, do you want some food?" Peter asked, grinning slightly after he had nodded. Cam smiled wider as he pulled her towards the line.

  “Where is Lia?”

  "I don't know. She left a little while after you did." Peter heaped a pile of meat on his plate and Cam absentmindedly did the same. "Let's go eat somewhere else, Cam. I have more to tell you."

  “About what?”

  “Come on.” Peter led her to the back of the hall at a table situated in the corner. “I need to tell you about what’s happening in the Royalty Realm.” Cam turned to look at him, eager to hear what he had to say. “About a week after you left, many of the Royal members departed too, saying they had business in other regions of Mirabelle. Cole and I were suspecting their true attention so Cole decided to follow them secretly. I stayed at the Royalty Realm with a couple others. I haven’t heard from Cole since, but I am certain there are some aligned with Apollyon.”

  “I’ve known that for several weeks actually,” Cam remarked. Peter looked at her with surprise, and she related what had happened the night she snuck from the inn up to the palace, now that she realized who was truly on whose side.

  “Apollyon must have manipulated them as well,” Peter mused.

  “Just as he did to those who raised me,” Cam added with distaste.

  Peter onlynoddedsolemnly. “On another note,” Peter saidafter a moment. “Since you were wondering who among us work for the Spirit Followers, you can tell by the dove tattoo they have. Each of us has one. It is our symbol.”

  Cam nodded, telling him she knew this as well. She related to him the message that was left upon her cavern wall. “They assume you are one of us then,” Peter replied.

  “But I’m not even a Spirit Follower, not really. I mean I don’t even know what it’s all about.”

  "But you're on our side, right?" Cam nodded. Peter pulled the long sleeve of his shirt up to show her the small, ink-painted dove on his forearm. It reminded her, for a moment, of the dove she kept seeing along her journeys. She traced the drawing of the dove with her fingers on Peter's warm skin. "You can get one too sometime if you want."

  After a moment of silence Cam asked, “I have heard stories, legends really, that your people use magic unlike that of which is common in our country. Is this true?”

  Peter nodded with a small smile lifting his lips. “Although I really wouldn’t call it magic. It is Elyon, or rather, a part of Him. This spirit as we call it is called upon through a certain ceremonial sacrifice that dates back to the early tribes of our people. The spirit guides us until Elyon requires a sacrifice from us again. This requirement in order to attain the spirit will disappear once the Savior makes the ultimate sacrifice.”

  “So this…savior. When he saves, you will no longer have this…spirit?”

  “The opposite actually.” Peter paused to pull his sleeve down. “We will have the ability to ask it to dwell insideof us and to protect our souls.”

  Cam mulled over his words for a brief moment before she changed the subject. “Peter, what do you think is going to happen? When is Apollyon going to attack? And where?” Peter shrugged.

  “Only timewill tell. It couldbetomorrow. Hemay bidehis time over months in order to assemble an army.”

  "He has been at work on this entire scheme for years. Those who raised me to become his allies years ago."

  Peter nodded, demonstrating that he understood. “You should get some sleep.” Cam agreed and stood up, stretching her back. She walked away from Peter towards the colossal doors of the hall.

  When she glanced back, he offered her a small smile.

  Cam awoke suddenly with a jerk and found that a hand was

  clamped over her mouth. When the brightness of a torch no longer blinded her, she found herself peering into Glista’s concerned face. “Gl-Glista what is it?” she asked sluggishly as she pushed herself onto her elbows and squinted against the torc
h light.

  “I need help. Something’s happened!” Glista pulled on her arm while holding the torch high above her head.

  “What is it?” Cam asked, hurrying out of bed.

  “Outside,” the other girl replied hastily. Glista did not look

  scared but only as if she was in a great hurry. Quickly, Cam threw clothing found on the floor over her head. Glista graspedCam’s arm and pulled her from the room.

  Once outside the cavern, they sprinted towards the exit of the great undergroundrealm to whereCam knewthevolcano’s opening was located. The Realm seemed desolate and strange without the bustle of hundreds of people milling about. The only firelight danced over the dark water. “What could possibly be happening? What is outside that Glista needs my help for?”

  Glista held Cam’s arm in an iron grip, one that was surprising from someone who seemed rather weak.Glista’s face was full of determination.

  Then a chilling thought knocked into Cam. “Glista could have chosen anyone. Andyet, she chose me. Whichmeans…” Cam cut off the thought with a hard swallow, determined to discover what awaited her.

  Once they reached the main part of the volcano, they climbed the steps leading to the top. The night was clear, and the chilly air bit at Cam’s bare arms. She forgot for a moment that she was with Glista as she stared up into a starry sky. When looking up, she felt small, when looking down from the top of the volcano she felt like she was on top of the world. “Come on,” Glista ordered. Though puzzled, Cam followed after her.

  Glista grasped a rope on the side of the volcanic wall and began the descent over the side. Cam watched her scale down and a sudden feeling of uneasiness spread over her. What would she find down there? Another slain victim? Cam thought it strange to see Glista so effortlessly scale a volcano. It was like watching a circle become a square.

  Nevertheless, Cam followed after her, carefully sliding her way with the aid of the rope down the wall of the volcano. She kept her eyes fixed on the igneous side instead of the ground until she felt her booted feet settle on the grassy turf. She turned to find Glista, but the girl had seemed to have disappeared. Cam didn’t see anything to cause concern until her eyes caught sight of a figure wriggling on the ground. “Peter.” Cam rushed to his side and saw that his hands and feet were bound and that a gag was tied over his mouth. Instead of a pleading expression for help, his eyes told her to flee, but she shook her head.