Spirit Followers

by Lydia Redwine

  The tree line ceased without warning, and both Cam and Peter were staring over the edge of a steep incline descending into a mountainous valley. The features of the valley were undetectable under the thick fog.

  “This is it,” Peter said.

  “How do you know?” Cam peered into the valley but could not see anything but the peaks of pine trees and black birds swooping through the air. Peter raised a finger and pointed ahead. Cam followed the direction of his finger and saw the towers of a black fortress rising above the fog. Normally, a fortress shaped much like a castle wouldn’t be sufficient for a hiding place, especially if it was the only structure in the vicinity. But its outer, black walls camouflaged well into the mountain sides. If Peter hadn’t pointed it out, Cam would have missed it entirely.

  “That is where I resided until I was sixteen,” Peter told Cam quietly. He stared off at where the fortress stood. In a way, he was coming home. There were sure to be people he knew.

  In a matter of moments, they had edged their horses down the incline and found themselves enveloped in gray. Every few minutes Cam could make out the outline of trees. To her, the valley, which seemed to be occupied by only frail pines, took hours to cross.

  She heard the sharp whinny of a horse and Peter's loud cry. At this sound, she spun her horse around but could not find him.

  “Peter!” she shouted.

  "I'm okay!" he called back, his laughter ringing in the air. He was quite close.

  Cam rode slowly towards the sound of his voice. He stepped from the fog rubbing his head. "Well, we found the fortress. We walked right into it." Cam almost laughed as she climbed down from her horse. "Let's go in. I'm famished." Peter said. Cam followed him to the entrance of the fortress which was sealed by a heavy stone door with steel barriers. "This fortress was built during the time when the nation fought against the Shadow Bearers and it is very well closed off."

  Peter fished in his cloak and withdrew a silver key. He placed it in both locks of the two steel barriers and rotated it until a clicking sound reached his ears. He swung the heavy doors opened, and they entered the fortress.

  The first floor of the fortress was one vast, rectangular room reaching for several yards. The only windows were set high near the ceiling. A staircase ascended to a loft which overlooked the first level. A door in the wall hinted that there was also built a lower level. The first floor had a long, stone table scattered with dirty dishes which seemed to have been left for days. Molding food clung to the plates, covered in cobwebs. The only other objects in the room were random pieces of rusty armor in the corners on which spiders were crawling over.

  “No one is here.” Cam turned to glimpse Peter’s ashen face. This wasn’t the kind of welcome he had been expecting. The place looked as if it had been abandoned long ago. “They’ve been taken. They found them and killed them.” Peter was starting to sound panicky.

  "Now let's think about this logically," Cam objected. "Why would Apollyon's army be heading to the south if they already had the Spirit Followers executed?" Peter slowed his intense breathing to consider her reasoning.

  “You’re right. They have to be here. Let’s look for them.” They climbed the stairs to the second floor which was vacant of persons and supplies.

  “It appears as if they made a hasty evacuation,”Cam remarked, glancing down at dropped pieces of clothing.

  “Let’s check the passage,” Peter said, pushing past Cam and down the stairs. He pulled the door in the wall open and stepped through into dank dimness. Cam followed him and was immediately confronted with foul smells and darkness. “We need a torch.” Peter found a suitable piece of wood and heated it until sparks appeared. Cam pulled her hand towards her face and covered her nose with the cloth of her sleeve.

  They stepped quietly through the narrow passage and walked for several yards. Cam jumped suddenly at the sound of a groan and found she was clutching Peter’s arm. They halted and listened intently for a long moment. Someone groaned again, and they ran through the passage towards the noise.

  There on the stone floor was a woman, apparently pregnant, with red tangled hair hanging over her dirt-streaked face. Cam kneeled next to her. “Areyou alright?” she asked, holding her hand. Tears stream down the woman’s face and she glanced towards her stomach which she was clutching with a quacking hand.

  “The baby…it's coming!” the woman rasped.

  “Where aretheSpirit Followers?” Peter askedher. Alookof alarm leaped into her widening eyes.

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about!” she exclaimed.

  “We’re friends, and we will not do you any harm. I’m Peter. I am one of your people.” He lifted his sleeve to reveal the dove that was painted on his upper arm.

  The fear immediately subsided from the woman’s face before her eyes narrowed at Cam. “Who are you?”

  “She’s with me,” Peter explained hastily. “Can you tell me where the rest of our people have gone?”

  “They left about a week ago, and I-I couldn’t go with them. I lost them in the passage,” she stuttered.

  “They traveled through here? Where did they go?” Peter inquired.

  She gave a small shrug. “I don’t really remember, but if you need to go after them…” She pointed ahead at an adjoining opening into another path.

  "Thank you, we need to follow them, Cam."

  “We cannot just leave her here!” Cam exclaimed.

  Peter sighed in exasperation but realized Cam was undoubtedly in the right. If they could find the Spirit Followers, they would have more help.

  “I’ll get the horses.” He glanced at the ceiling, registering its height. Peter hurried through the passage and disappeared.

  “You’re going to be alright,” Cam assured the woman.

  The woman replied with a cry and toss of her head. Her hand clutched at Cam's fingers. When her pain had subsided, for the time being, the woman allowed her eyes to rove over Cam's facial features. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated. "You look familiar…"

  “I don’t think we’ve ever met…”

  The woman looked Cam over, her brown eyes locked with hers. "You look like Cassia," she mumbled.

  “Who?” Cam knew full well what she had said but wished her to elaborate. She must have looked like her mother, for she did not resemble Lord Caddell much. The unfamiliar thought of him being her father stung her for a moment but as she reflected on it within the passage she came to realize that Lord Caddell was likely to be a better parent than either Silva or Kazbek.

  “Never mind,” the woman said, waving a hand. Cam did not press the subject but instead helped her to her feet. The woman doubled over, and Cam steadied her with her stronger arms. Then she felt it…

  “Not now…” Cam thought with a groan. The clomp of horse hooves and boots in the passage reached Cam’s ears before Peter appeared around the bend. Cam rose, wiping the sweat which had seeped from the woman’s hand into Cam’s on her pants. “Um…I need to find a bathing room, Peter.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Now? You can bathe when we get there.” Cam was reaching into her baggage for a strip of cloth. “Wait, you’rebleeding…” Peter’s words trailedoffasherealizedthat thebloodseepingdown herthighwasn’t anordinarywound…or any wound at all.

  “Exactly,” Cam repliedas shepushedpast him. She was already breaking out of the passage when she heard him clear his throat.

  Moments later, she rejoined him to find that there wasn’t enough room between the ceiling and the horses’ heads to place the woman. Therefore, Peter aided the woman along, and Cam guided horses by their reigns. Every now and then they found signs of human activity: dropped items, footprints which were dried mud by now and a slowly decaying pile of vomit. The latter was the main reason for why the passage reeked. Rats appeared from holes and scampered around them. It was becoming difficult to breathe in the narrow, stuffy passage. Cam wondered how many people had to travel through here and where they had gone.

  They halt
ed after about twenty minutes and drank water. “I need you to help me,” Peter said to the woman. “Where did they go and why?”

  “Another…mountain…is safer.” The woman coughed violently, and Peter ceased urging the story out of her.

  “They must have caught wind that Apollyon was coming for them,” Cam remarked.

  "Well of course," Peter replied. "Cole might have told them if he was indeed there. Or, Lia's father told them."

  “He’s one too?”

  “He’s one of their two main leaders.”

  “Is my father the other? I mean is Cole the other?” Peter shook his head and wiped the dirt and sweat from his brow before taking another gulp of water. Their source was running low. “The other leader doesn’t even live in Mirabelle. Her parents were companions of my father’s but never came to Mirabelle. After they had spent years together in the very south of our world, they established Nazeria in the north. We remain in touch through appointed messengers.” He didn’t elaborate further. Cam found that the more she learned of the Spirit Followers, the more she wished to know. They rose once more and continued trudging for nearly an hour through the passage before almost crashing into a metal door. Peter laughed, realizing that it was black and blended well into the side of the mountain on the outside. Cam led the horses through first, and they lowered their heads to graze. When Peter came out with the woman nearly slung around him, they realized they were where they were supposed to be.

  The valley they were now standing within lay in the inner part of a circle of several mountain peaks, so high, all other lands were blocked out. Some of the early morning fog had cleared, but the sky remained overcast. Not a single soul could be seen in the valley, and yet, Cam could hear vague sounds of singing. Not the singing of mockingbirds but of people.

  “They’ve built houses in the mountain sides,” Peter said with a grin.

  An agonizing cry erupted from the woman. Cam supported her from the opposite side Peter handled, and they half dragged her towards a particular mountainside. Peter fingered the rise of rock until he found the edge of a door. He knocked on it with a stiffened fist. Presently, the door creaked open, and an elderly couple peered around it.

  "She's in labor," Cam explained hastily, indicating the woman. The gray-haired woman reached forward and aided them in transporting her into the dwelling. The room, however small it may have seemed, held more than a score of people. Faces of children, parents and the elderly turned in their direction as their singing ceased. They were seated around a fire, cooking a stew to eat for their midday meal. Peter seemed not to notice the multitude of eyes upon them as he assisted their greeters in placing the woman on a mat. Her screams sliced the sudden silence.

  Cam trailed her eyes slowly over the features of the room. And when her eyes alighted on a figure which had just appeared, she covered her mouth to smother her sudden outcry. Her cries were not screams of terror as it had been recently, but of pure delight. Emerging from the shadows contrasting to the fire was a tall figure with brown hair and familiar green eyes.

  "Owen," she gasped. Recognition crossed his expression, and he smiled broadly. She darted quickly to him and threw her arms around his neck all the while breathing in the scent of pine on his jacket. "Owen," she whispered, pulling back to gaze at him. He had grown a slight beard and looked older, more solemn than she had ever seen him. He offered her a smile.

  “I knew you’d make it here sometime,” he replied quietly. Cam pushed a fist hard against his chest. “And why is that? Because you knew who I truly am?”

  “Ever since I was young.” Cam set her jaw as she shook her head, expressing disappointment.

  “How could he have never told me?” she thought. But then she supposed it was right in front of her the whole time, the dove symbol that is. The ink was drawn on his back many years ago and he had given her his necklace. She had seen the symbol once on a hot summer day when just the two of them had gone swimming. “Don’t be mad, Cam,” he said, chuckling a little.

  “You have a lot of explaining to do,” she remarked. “I suppose I do. There may be more you do not yet know.” She looked at him with puzzlement. “About the Crown?” she shook her head in confusion at his question. “That’s what I thought.” Her eyes were drawn away from Owen as she realized that everyone, including Peter was observing them. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk in private,” Owen whispered.

  Cam glanced in Peter’s direction, nodding for him to join them. Peter glanced at the woman upon the mat before nodding at the older woman beside it. The latter spoke. “I will deliver the baby. Move along.” Peter looked relieved as he turned and followed Cam and Owen through a small side door leading into a mountain tunnel.

  "We've built our homes in the mountains this past year and recently transported," Owen told them. He used the side of the passage wall for support while he a held a torch in his other hand. The sounds of resumed singing in the room beyond the tunnel slowly faded as they descended deeper into the mountain. “And the reason for this was?” It was Peter asking the question this time. He didn’t seem to know Owen, but then Owen had lived in Medulla the majority of his life instead of the Black Mountains. “To be closer to the pass to Nazeria,” Owen replied. The three young people entered a small cavern before Owen elaborated. “I don’t knowif your…friendheretoldyouabout our associations with others outside of Mirabelle,” he said to Cam.

  Cam remembered the only information Peter gave her on such a notion was that the other leader lived in another kingdom. He seemed to leave many things for Cam to figure out herself. “Nazeria is a nation in the north ruled by the other Spirit Follower leader. Most of her people are Spirit Followers as well, but not all of them. I was their newly appointed messenger between the countries.”

  "And that's why you left.” Owen nodded to cam’s statement. “Why couldn't you have just told me? You've left me wondering where you had gone and the condition of your safety for months!” Owen’s mischievous expression softened. “It was all part of the plan, Cam…to not tell you until…after your birthday.”

  Plan? It was becoming more obvious now; Amelia pressing for her nomination and later election as the new Royal. “The Spirit Followers meant for me to be here,” she thought. Then glancing at Peter, she revised her private statement. “Or maybe it was just Lord Caddell that meant for me to be here.” “Just in case you were wondering, I was the one who took you into that hall during your training in the south,” Owen announced. "You're the person who dragged me through that fortress and scared the hell out of me?" Cam retorted, shaking her head. Owen only grinned, and Cam sighed as she slid down the wall to sit upon the ground with her back to the stone.

  “The Spirit Followers have a new mission now. A mission outside of simply emerging and becoming what this nation needs,” Owen said, taking a seat upon a jut of stone. Peter looked just as perplexed as Cam. He apparently didn’t know about this new mission either.

  “Do explain,” Peter prodded, leaningagainst thewall insteadof taking a seat.

  “We have found some information, or rather Lord Caddell has found some information that would lead us to believe that Apollyon does not want us dead just to ‘better society’.” Cam’s brow furrowed as Owen leaned back in his chair, making eye contact with both Cam and Peter in turn. “He is soon to return from Nazeria but has already discovered the existence of a…err…magical artifact Daniel Adriel was once in possession of…”

  Peter leaned forward saying, “Adriel? My father.”

  Owen peered up at him and finally nodded slowly. “We have reason to believe that Apollyon wants nothing more than to possess it so that he can please his master, who we believe to be...” Owen trailed off, but astonishment still crossed both Cam and Peter’s expressions. A master? Apollyon had always struck Cam as someone who worked only for himself.

  “Who?” Peter prodded. Owen looked up, pinning a pointed lookupon Peter. “Oh…” was allPeter said. A long moment of silence passed in which Cam flicked h
er gaze between the two young men. “But he has been in hiding for years ever since…”

  “And now he has remembered, Or at least, his servants have,” Owen finished.

  “Who?” Cam demanded.

  Owen and Peter both turnedslowlytoface her.“Thedeemed Prince of our world, of the Infernal Cities,” Owen murmured with raised brows.

  "Called the Dark Prince at times," Peter added.

  “Lucius,” Owen finished. “The only being besides ourselves that cause a problem. A problem to...well...everything.”

  Silence reigned for a long moment before Peter broke in with, “An artifact?”

  Owen nodded, turning to Cam. "As Dan…as Peter's father has written as well as the other Watchers, or prophets that is, someday a savior will come to the world and die for the wrongdoings of man. In order to complete this mission, He must wear the Caelae Crown. The Spirit Followers of this day know not what this Crown appears to be or where its location is. All we know is that through its use, evil will be defeated forever. The Caelae Crown was forged in a garden thousands of years ago when the corruption of man was first born. Elyon made a promise that this savior, His own son, would wear the Crown upon the day the great sacrifice would be made."

  “What does Caelae mean?” Cam asked before Peter cut in: “How do we know any of this is true?”

  “Caelae is the kingdom of Elyon. We believe this to be true because the Spirit Followers involved in the rebellion of over thirteen years ago told us so.” Owen’s gaze drifted to Cam’s. “We know this to be true because Daniel and the Watchers wrote of the Crown and of the Savior themselves.” Owen glanced at Peter. “The words written in the prophecies are recounted in literature and historical texts written by scholars from nations such as Enboria, theonewhich was besiegedyears ago.” Thewordswashedover Cam as another question popped into her mind.