by Heath Pfaff
A prosperous, unified world was a noble idea, but was it a noble endeavor? Trade would become strong, and the peoples of the world would never want for anything for they would be backed by a strong system that would see to their needs, but what of the peoples who didn't wish to be forced under the thumb of the human government? They would fight. That would leave the king with only one choice, to suppress those who rallied against him. And what if he met another king with a similar ideal, only that the other king wished to bring the people of the world under his own government? They would clash, and the world would erupt into a massive war. The people would suffer, trade would falter, and death would be the course of the day. It would happen, too. No king would willingly submit to another, and certainly the world was a large enough place that there were more kings than just mine. Rulers would never share power. It was not in their nature.
In times of war, the king would need stronger, more effective weapons and greater power. He would acquire those weapons, and that power, the way he'd always done, I knew, taking it despite the cost to the people he was allegedly trying to help. More innocents would die, more families would be destroyed, more men would be turned into monsters of war, and in the end it would be only the king who truly prospered. He would grind his people against the stone of war, hone them into what he needed for his purpose, and leave those that fell away to rot in their graves without remorse. All of this he would do for a noble idea. Even the noblest dream is folly, if in its pursuit the one who chases the dream loses himself.
"It is... a noble dream." I answered, choosing my words cautiously. A world of peace and prosperity was always a pretty concept, but no king could force it upon the world. The great dream of men would always remain just a dream.
Weaver smiled and nodded vigorously. I don't know if he read all the way into my answer, or was merely happy that I had seemed to agree with a conclusion he'd made- that the king was set upon a noble endeavor, but Weaver found something he favored in my words.
"It is the most noble of dreams, Lowin," the bloody-eyed Knight said with a laugh. "I think it is time we continued your training. I'll need to determine your combat skills before we begin." With those words, the subject of conversation was completely changed. We did not speak of such things again for several weeks, instead dedicating our time to a brutal training regimen that occupied every moment not spent walking or sleeping. Weaver avoided human settlements as we went, and for that I was thankful. Alone in the woods, he seemed a different person than the one I'd seen destroy the shop in Paix Farth. In time I even began to believe that he hadn't killed the shopkeeper and his wife; he was quick to smile, and quicker to laugh out in joy. Besides, at that point he was all I had to call 'companion.' It is easy to deceive oneself, when one really desires to.
A tall, stone walled, fortress loomed in the distance, an imposing structure obviously designed with prolonged siege defense in mind. I had noticed that we were traveling closer and closer to it as the day passed, but Weaver made no mention of his intentions. Two weeks of travel with the sometimes stoic, sometimes jovial, and always imposing warrior had done little to enlighten me to his true nature. He trained me hard, encouraging me to take full advantage of the new abilities granted to me by Kyeia's sacrifice. I was quick to hone my ability to sharpen the focus of time and I found that I could call it up at will. The speed of my limbs was still my greatest handicap, but I had learned how to overcome the limitations to an extent, even to the point that I could push myself to the very limits of my body's endurance. The first few times I attempted to do so, I caused muscles to tear and bones to break, but they healed in a matter of hours and I was ready to try again. I felt that it was important to know at what point my body would fail me. The best way to find that limit was to surpass it, recover, and try again until I mastered the appropriate time to stop without surpassing my body's ability. As I worked, some of the overwhelming exhaustion caused by the time slowing effect began to slip away. All my improvements were achieved in only two weeks on the road with Weaver, but as we grew closer to the mysterious fortress I became more agitated.
"Are we going there?" I finally decided to ask, pointing to the ever nearing structure.
"Yes, I have an appointment with the Lord of the keep." Weaver answered flatly, his voice calm and even, as it always was when he was discussing something he didn't necessarily feel like talking about. "The fortress is Renwalk, it is the last human stronghold in the south, and is responsible for scouting and maintaining the final line of defense from what lies beyond the human borders." He explained, gesturing with his hand to indicate the wide expanse of forested land that lay beyond. The dark green of the thick forest was broken in places by the white of early snow, something we'd been seeing more and more of as we traveled deeper into the frigid south. Traveling north from Fell Rock would have seen us moving into warmer climates, but we were growing closer and closer to the lands of snow and ice with every day of travel. Eventually, if we continued our march to the sea, we would reach the coastal region where the snow never completely melted.
"Ah, king's business." I said to myself, partially reassured that this endeavor into civilized land might go better than the last.
"Yes, business." Weaver mumbled the words.
"Will we be staying long?" I was still eager to reach our destination. The two weeks of travel had given me a lot of time to think, and I was still worried about the others from Fell Rock. Merrywin and I had never gotten too close, but she had taken care of me when I was at my worst. I hoped that she was well. Any news of Silent would be welcome. I feared the worst for him, but still kept a flicker of hope alive in my heart. Malice, though, occupied my thoughts the most. The tough, often angry woman who had trained me and comforted me during the hardest times of my life was my dearest living friend. I had never told her so, and I didn't know what she thought of me, but I felt a bond with her stronger then that I'd established with anyone else other than Kye.
"Only long enough to speak with Lord Twist. I need to make a report on the events at Fell Rock, and discover the position of any of our forces that might have checked in at Renwalk," came Weaver's reply.
"Might there be other Knights of Ethan at Renwalk?" I asked, my attention suddenly piqued.
"I doubt it, but we will know for sure once I speak with Twist, and get the reports from his scouts." The red-eyed warrior answered, not indicating whether he would be either pleased or displeased with finding more of his fellows had escaped Fell Rock. At times he could be very dispassionate.
My hopes sank with his assessment. I had held some hope that we might hear word of other Knights of Ethan in the vicinity. To be more precise, I had hoped to hear of Malice or the others. I wondered, though I didn't voice my thoughts, what made Weaver so certain that others wouldn't have passed the same way as us. If all the Knights had gone south to meet up after the battle at Fell Rock, did it not stand to reason that others might have stopped to make a report at Renwalk since it was along their way? Suspicion took hold of me again, and I found myself wondering at the true motives behind Weaver's actions. I thought back to the events of my last night at Fell Rock, something I'd been doing more and more as we traveled further to our rendezvous point.
There had been two strange men that night, obviously looking for me, one of whom I'd heard speak, the other of whom had been too quiet for me to hear. I had seen neither of them, at least not clearly, but I remembered only too well the sharp pain I'd felt just before blacking out, with the massive Lantern Eye blotting out the sky above me. If Weaver had truly saved me from the Lantern Eye, then certainly he must have either seen those two men, or been one of them. I knew that he was not the one who had spoken, because I would have recognized his voice, but could he be the other? If he was, what had happened to the man who had spoken, and why had they both been searching specifically for me, in the heat of a fearsome battle? If he was neither of those men, then he was a third person who had not seen those two at all, or had, for some reason, c
hosen not to mention those two in his retelling of the night's events. There was the possibility that the Lantern Eye had killed the two men I'd heard outside the building that night, but if it had killed the man standing directly over me, was it not reasonable to assume that it would have also killed me before help could come? I didn't have answers to any of the speculation that filled my mind, but I suspected that Weaver did. His psychotic dual nature, however, kept me from asking any questions that might anger him. The truth I so desperately wanted was beyond my ability to acquire.
Many times I had considered abandoning Weaver, making my way south on my own, but I realized that with his superior speed, and ability to fly, I would not get far before he tracked me down. Once he did track me down, I would be in a dangerous position. He would want to know why I'd left, and that was not something that I could explain without casting him in a dark light indeed. As long as I kept traveling with him, Weaver seemed only too friendly, and eager to teach me all that he could. In fact, he had been nothing but gracious and a good general companion to me in all our time alone on the road. He did most of the hunting and gathering of supplies, and he also told many an interesting tale to liven up the tedium of the hours of walking. He never did talk about himself, but was that really a good reason to be suspicious of someone? I didn't know. I desperately wanted to be able to trust the red-eyed warrior, if only because he was the only living person around who understood what it was like to be what I was. Still, every time I grew comfortable around Weaver, the screams of the shopkeeper and his wife would ring through my head, reminding me of what lay hidden beneath the pleasant visage of the smiling Knight. I constantly wished that I had checked the shop to see if the keeper and his woman were still alive. Had I seen them living with my own eyes, I would not have had such a hard time believing Weaver when he said that he had not killed them.
Renwalk fortress loomed high above us now, its massive towers clawing at the sky seemed almost black, stained by soot as they were. I looked at Weaver as we drew closer to this place of human habitation, and wondered, with a mix of fear and anticipation, what new aspect of his nature I might soon uncover.
The moat surrounding Renwalk was far enough across that a score of men, laying foot to head, wouldn't stretch from one bank to the other. The banks down to the murky water were steep and treacherous. I guessed that the bottom was probably lined with sharp metal spikes or caltrops, making anyone foolish enough to try and cross the water without the aid of the draw-bridge likely to have their feet torn to pieces. The bridge was up as we approached, but once we were within audible range of the castle Weaver took down his hood and called up to the guards along the wall, who had not seen our approach, shrouded in our cloaks as we were.
"Open the gate!" Weaver bellowed, lacking anger, but with a tinge of "the voice" making his tone carry far and resonate through the evening air. Those at the top of the bridge, seeing who was making the demand, immediately called down to the draw-bridge crew to lower the massive wooden bridge. As the bridge was lowered, I could also see a heavy, black iron portcullis being raised. Beyond the lowering wooden ramp and the iron portcullis, the courtyard was chaotic with activity. There were lines of men at arms, at least a hundred, though quite possibly more, involved in some type of training exercise. They were organized into lines, repeating the same moves over and over again, drilling with long halberds. My training, and my peculiar new vision, allowed me to see every flaw in their motions down to the smallest waver of their balance. I realized that without Kye's sacrifice, I would have looked far worse than any of them. As we waited for the drawbridge to finish its descent, I saw a runner being dispatched to the castle proper, probably notifying whoever resided there of our arrival. Once the bridge was down and the portcullis up, Weaver began to lead the way across the great wooden walkway and into Renwalk Fortress. I noticed none of the tension I had seen in him when we entered Paix Farth, and I felt a wave of relief. I hoped for no repeat of the events there. As we passed through the gates, every guard or soldier we passed snapped to sharp attention. Weaver didn't acknowledge them, and I did my best to also pretend not to notice them, but my eyes still wandered over the sight. I had seen human military men before, but never so many in one place. I subconsciously drew my hood tighter about me, and pulled the mask on my cloak up to cover the bottom half of my face. Weaver might have been comfortable amidst the guards and soldiers of Renwalk, but their eyes upon me made my skin crawl. I was, I realized, witnessing the first "benefits" of a Knight's rank. The Knights of Ethan were second only to the king himself.
We walked straight through the expansive courtyard, past the lines of soldiers being trained for battle, and to the gates of the castle proper. These second gates were already open, and Weaver lead the way inside, without pausing, to where we were met by a man dressed in an extravagant red silk coat. He had neatly cut shoulder length brown hair, almost feminine in style, which framed a fat face with an upturned nose. His face was far from the only potion of his body that was fat, I realized, as I saw how his short legs seemed barely able to keep up his massive stomach. He wore several rings of gold on each hand, and several extravagant necklaces were draped about his neck. I disliked him immediately for he gave off an air of pompous self-righteousness that couldn't be ignored. I wondered if he was the "Lord Twist" we had come to see, but I didn't stay curious long.
"Lord Twist will see you immediately, Master Lucid..." The smug man began in a smooth, deep voice that seemed ill fitted to his frame.
My companion cut him off in mid-sentence, a flash of fire in his eyes. "Whilst I'm here, you will refer to me as Weaver, or not at all. As you can see, I have a guest with me today, and we don't need to have him confused by superfluous titles, do we, Kensil?" Weaver's voice was cold but controlled as he addressed the man, and I suddenly realized that I had heard something that wasn't intended for my ears. I couldn't be certain, but it had sounded like the short fat man, Kensil, had nearly called Weaver "Lucidil," a name I was quite familiar with. It was a name that most people of the human colonies were familiar with to some degree. Lucidil was the name of the man who had first invented the strange shifting fabric that was so hard to come by, and in fact also the man for whom the fabric had been named. Was Weaver that same man? I looked at the grim set of his features as he faced the pompous man in the silk jacket. I again pondered the great mystery that was Weaver. I knew so little about him, but suspected that there were great things working around him.
"Ah, yes, I'm sorry, Weaver." The man, Kensil, stammered over his apology, his face going white. He was, for all his pomposity, obviously aware, to some extent, of Weaver's potential. I immediately revised that thought, however, realizing that most people were afraid of the Knights of Ethan to some extent, and Kensil might simply be displaying a natural human fear. "Then shall I find a place for your companion to wait while you see the Lord Twist?"
I didn't wish to be sent off somewhere to wait while Weaver attended to his business. I was curious to see what sort of business he was on, that he would be expected at Renwalk, but the red-eyed warrior nodded his ascent to Kensil. I frowned beneath my mask, but kept it to myself. The red fabric of his silk jacket swished as the fat, pompous man moved next to me. "I believe that you can find your own way to Lord Twist's study, Weaver?" He asked, and when Weaver again nodded his ascent, Kensil turned his attention to me.
"If you would please follow me..." He let the sentence hang, obviously waiting for me to introduce myself.
"Lowin." I said, and some of the frustration I felt at being sent away, instead of being allowed to know the nature of our business, crept into my voice. That seemed to put the fat gaudily dressed man on edge, though I hadn't meant to do so.
"Alright, Master Lowin, please come this way." He turned and began walking down a hallway to the left. I fell in behind him, only looking over my shoulder once to see that Weaver was already gone, vanished from where he been but a moment before. I followed Kensil, waiting a few seconds before speaking
again.
"Sir Lucidil has been quite tense since the events at Fell Rock." I commented to the man walking in front of me. When he didn't answer after a moment, I added, "He is hoping that some of the others may have come this way." I wasn't exactly sure what I was hoping to get out of Kensil, but I felt the man held information that would be of interest to me, and my frustration at being made to bide my time while Weaver went about his business forced my hand.
"Then Lucidil shall be pleased, one of your own has been waiting here for him for a few days now, and I understand he comes with good news." Kensil said, a note of good cheer in his voice, but he didn't add anything else. He had said enough, though. I had learned two very important pieces of information from the silk jacketed man; Weaver's real name, that he'd had before joining the Knights, was indeed Lucidil, and, perhaps more importantly, at least one of the Knights of Ethan was somewhere within Renwalk Fortress and had good news to deliver. I was about to try and pump Kensil for more information, but we had reached our destination. Kensil stopped at a door, opened it, and ushered me inside saying, "I shall send refreshment along shortly." He stepped out and shut the door behind him. I could see the obvious expression of relief on his face as the door closed. He was more than happy to be done with me. That did not bother me greatly. I was quite pleased to be rid of his company as well. He had been an unpleasant man, though I wasn't sure entirely why he had struck me so. I shrugged the matter off.