Lorkayn, although he could not see Vergail, sensed her hands and her emotions. He felt the love pouring from her, into him, somehow stopping him from being completely alone. It was one of the most profound and happy moments in his life; it was ironic it was his last thought.
Perhaps it was a final gift of the gods, but Lorkayn, as his life force ebbed away, felt completely at peace. He remembered the time his soul mixed with Vergail’s, and remembered the goodness and innocence within him. He wanted to say thank you, and he wanted to say sorry, but he could not speak. Yet, he still had power inside of his charred body. Perhaps, finally, he would use this power for a greater good. For the first time, he felt he had achieved something great.
Raising his hand, what was left of it, in a gesture of farewell, he let forth his power, much like Keldoran had done earlier. A blast of hot energy issued from his fingertips, creating a shimmering portal in the mist of fog and rain. A start to make sure Vergail could get home. As if to thank him, the gods added their own majesty to the portal, making it stronger, until Vergail could see the city of Malana clearly through the portal. She would not have to journey through the planes of nowhere to find her way back. She could simply walk through, and be back where she had come from.
“Thank you,” Vergail said, her words clogged with sadness. “Thank you, my love. I knew you would find your goodness. I knew it!”
The sun came out then, a bright warm glow, banishing the rain and wind. All over Mincalen, people flocked outside, to witness the first sunlight for over two months. Some cheered, but all were awed by the magnificence of this sunburst. It was the most beautiful thing any of them had ever seen.
23. A Spiritual Journey Vergail remained with Lorkayn long after he had died, basking in the warmth of the new dawn on Mincalen. She had almost forgotten about Keldoran, when his coughing brought her out of her reverie of peace.
She was instantly at his side. Keldoran’s body was in just as bad a shape as Lorkayn’s. Burned and scarred, the land magick had torn him apart. It was a wonder he was still alive.
“I’m sorry,” said Vergail genuinely. “I…Lorkayn…he is dead.”
Keldoran let out a sigh. He knew, now, that his mission had been completed. The Ice Lord would have been proud of him. The prophecy was fulfilled. “Then it worked. I saved you from him. You are free.”
Vergail smiled warmly at the young man before her. “Yes, I am truly free, but not of Lorkayn, for he will be with me forever. Yet I thank you, Keldoran, for he would have surely killed me had you not intervened. I owe you my life, and I aim to do so much with this life. I have seen whole new worlds, new gods, new beginnings. I have also seen love, even inside the most evil of hosts.”
Keldoran could only look at her, confused by her words, but grateful she lived and the sorcerer dead. “My life is complete,” he answered, equally as profoundly. “I ended a life by accident, back on Elrohen. Relb was my friend, even though I had only known him for such a short time. I sought to balance out that wrongdoing. I think I have done that, here.”
Vergail wiped the sweat along his brow, and Keldoran, again, and for the last time, admired her beauty. “You are a good man, Keldoran,” responded the priestess to his words. “Many can have accidents, but few seldom learn from them. You have a wisdom that is beyond your years. I will be happy to ease your passing, and it will be a loss to Elrohen that you have to die.”
“Thank you for being with me,” said Keldoran, tears coming to his eyes. He knew he was dying, and he was suddenly afraid. “I don’t want to be alone, at the end.” Vergail clutched the young man’s hand fiercely, squeezing it tightly. “You will never be alone.” Keldoran cried now, letting all of his emotions out. “There was so much I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to be a mage, the best mage that could be. I had so many childish dreams, so much ambition. My life is over before it really began. It…isn’t fair, is it?”
Vergail leant forward and kissed Keldoran soundly on the lips. “You have done more in your life than many people do in their lifetimes combined,” she said sweetly. “You have saved a life, and travelled beyond your world. You have lived, Keldoran. You have truly, truly lived.” Keldoran smiled at the priestess, but did not stop crying. “Death…it’s so…final. What is the point of it all? Why do we all have to die? I do not want to die…” Vergail stroked his hair gently. “You are on the start of something greater, Keldoran. It is not a moment to feel sad, but a moment to rejoice! You are merely leaving this plane. Who knows? Perhaps, for you, you will become a god, and teach other mortals like myself the way to true enlightenment. Perhaps, somewhere, on some planet, a star will shine in your honour. This is not the end, Keldoran, this is the beginning. In some ways, I envy you.” Tears coming to her eyes now, as well, Vergail hugged Keldoran tightly, offering words of encouragement. Keldoran hugged her back, and his last memory would be a happy one. Smiling at her, in the end, Keldoran kissed her forehead. “I…am going…” he said. He could feel the end was near. His body was spent.
Vergail nodded, and lay him down on the ground. “Farewell, brave Keldoran. I will tell your story wherever I go, spreading the word of a courageous young man, who looked death straight in the eye, and smiled.”
Keldoran smile grew broader, and he nodded his thanks to the priestess. He stared at her, not daring to blink, giving in to her beauty. Then, her face ebbed away, and Keldoran slept.
Vergail stayed with him until the end, and cried tears of joy and peace for him. She closed his staring eyes for him, and was glad to see the look of peace on his features. She buried Lorkayn there, beside the path. She did not worry that the mound she dug in the soft earth with her hands looked ugly. She merely wanted to protect Lorkayn’s body from being eaten by birds. When she was done, none would even notice the mound beside this path, in the middle of nowhere.
She stood by the mound for a good while, paying her last respects to the man she loved. She could not stop crying, but they were not tears of grief, but rather of an emotion too complicated to understand.
The sun warmed her back, and caressed her soul. She had lived though much, she realised. Her mind shuddered when she remembered the demon she had faced. Again, Keldoran had saved her there. He had been a protector to her, in these strange places. She thanked him again. Finally, she knew it was time to leave. The portal still shone, shimmering with its own ethereal beauty. She lifted up Keldorans’ body. She would not leave it here. It should be returned to the young man’s parents, so they could mourn. In Elrohen, he will be remembered, of that she vowed. Odd, she thought, his body seemed quite light, and easy to carry.
For one last moment she looked back at the mound, and remembered that special moment when her soul had become one with the man buried there.
“Thank you,” she said to the earth. “Thank you for showing me the way home.”
Vergail stepped into the portal, and was transported instantly back into the city of Malana, back into the very room she had left.
It was as if she had never been gone. The room was still in chaos. Vo’Loth, the ice lord, was there, with his host of birdmen, and Suralubus looked at her appear in astonishment. Yvanna and Corg cried out in anguish at the sight of Keldoran’s body.
Vergail smiled at them all. Everything would be alright. She would look after Yvanna and Corg, console them in their grief. She would tell all of them her tale, of the brave Keldoran, and, of Lorkayn’s goodness in the end. It would be quite a tale, and one she would be sure to tell for the rest of her days.
* * *
The priestess walked back to the gardens in Malana, a place where she had often found solace. She had something to do, there, a misdemeanour to be set right.
Yes, there he was, the man, coughing with his ailments still, sat against one of the tall trees that marked the entrance to the gardens. He looked up at her as she approached, his face leering at her. “So, you come back to mock me some more priestess? Do your worst!”
He spat at her feet, but she did no
t take offence by this, and merely smiled at the man. “I have been wrong towards you,” she stated matter-of-factly, “and for that I am sorry. I leave you a gift.”
“W-what?” stammered the tramp, glaring at her suspiciously. “Why are you talking to me, for I am not worthy. I do not believe in Untaba, don’t you remember?? I curse your god!”
“It does not matter,” replied Vergail. “He is not my only god.”
Leaning forward, the priestess touched the fevered brow of the man, and her healing powers showered down through him, easing his pain and stopping his coughing. Blood and colour returned to his pale face, warming it, setting it aglow with life. The man looked at her, amazed.
“You have cured me!” he sputtered. “Why, priestess? You would not even speak to me before. You always looked down on me. Why did you use your powers to heal me?”
Vergail smiled at the man warmly. “Let me just say I have been taught a few valuable lessons, recently.” With a curt nod, she turned and walked into the gardens, towards the standing stones that the mages had used not that long ago to summon the sorcerer’s whereabouts.
As she walked through the gardens, the normal contentment she felt from this place was no longer within her. This place was much the same as the rest of Malana, a city of gold, a city more interested in money and self than more important values. Her life before had ended, of that she knew. She would travel from here, soon, take a spiritual journey away, to where she could not say, but somewhere else in Elrohen, maybe, she would be able to find a place she could call her home.
As she walked, sunlight ebbed and moonlight and stars shone down onto the standing stones. This was still an impressive site, filled with wonder, but she came here simply to see the stars. Here, in the gardens, the lights of the city could not diminish their beauty.
The stars seemed to wink at her, and she thought of Keldoran, the young man who had saved her. Perhaps, now, his star shone down on her, even now, guiding her on.
Then she thought of Lorkayn, and her heart filled with love. She thought of the world of Mincalen, somewhere out there, in the endless void, and smiled. There, now, at least, there would be peace, at least for a while.
Vergail reached down, and plucked a flower from the garden. It was a black orchid, and the fragrance reminded her of her first dream with Lorkayn. The aroma warmed her being, made her feel…safe, somehow. She tucked the flower into her robe, wearing it and enjoying its scent. It was time for her to leave on another journey, but this would not be as spiritual as the journey she had already travelled. Her soul had changed, forever, and she was a better person for it. The worst evil the world of Elrohen had faced, and it had improved her being.
Shrugging, laughing at the irony, Vergail turned and walked from the standing stones, and to her new destiny.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Craig Gilbert was born in Scotland and currently lives in Fife. Always interested in writing, he begun his first novel, A Wizard’s Tears, when he was 16 years old. Well, it seemed a good place to start, with Craig’s interest in fantasy apparent from a young age.
Since that time, Craig has gone from strength to strength, writing a plethora of different genres, including poetry and lately, a humourous short story book about his life.
Craig is now writing his second fantasy novel, The Dark Shores, and has numerous other projects planned.
Visit www.craig-gilbert.com to keep posted on all of Craig’s work.
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