The Silver Arrow

by Larry Itejere

  She nodded once in acknowledgement of his gratitude. “Your clothes will be ready for you in the morning.” She closed the door behind her.

  It wasn’t long before Samuel, who was smiling with relief, Mosley, and Tremay walked in.

  “Elena was asked by the priestess to send us out if we kept you up too long,” Samuel said.

  “So, how do you feel?” Tremay asked. His arm was rolled up in a bandage that was looped around his neck for support.

  “I feel better seeing all of you,” Iseac replied. Flashes of the former Patron dropping to the ground ran through his mind. “What happened, and how did we end up here?”

  “Annora has a special gift,” Tremay said. “She sent men to watch out for a sign before the battle with Bollan.”

  Bollan, Iseac thought. It was the first time he made the link to one of the freed people from the marble seal, wondering how Tremay did it.

  “They were asked to watch for the silver arrow that would come, and the men were instructed to protect Samuel and the people with him,” Tremay said. “Once they saw the sign, they came to our aid. Taken by surprise, some of the Norians and Golans fled when Rogan was killed by one of the priestess’ men. They brought us here to Olinar so you could be helped.”

  It hadn’t been more than ten minutes when Elena walked in carrying a tray.

  “Okay, it’s time to go,” she said.

  “I believe this is yours,” Mosley said, placing Iseac’s quarterstaff by his bedside.

  “We’d better leave,” Tremay said, saluting. Taking their cue, they each nodded, saluting in the same manner before making their way out of his room.

  Iseac’s initial concern for his friends had blinded him from noticing how stunningly beautiful Elena looked, with her red gown laced over her white chemise.

  “This is not the time to be daydreaming of what might never be,” he said to himself. “A war is coming, and time is running out for the other two.” He needed to find them.

  As he ate, Elena sat on the chair by his bed. They didn’t say what they were really thinking, but made small talk, avoiding the more personal topics, such as their future together−if they were ever going to have one.

  Outside the cave, Faray listened as Samuel told him all that had transpired after their separation. His encounter with the Agoras at the mines; finding Iseac and the Ackalan named Mosley passing through their town; his escape from Golans as he fled to Bremah after Iseac’s capture; his meeting with Gabram the Patron; and his unlocking, about which he chose not to go into details.

  Faray listened, impressed with his brother’s resourcefulness; it was also heartbreaking knowing that his gift was also a curse. Each time he used it, it severed his ties to his family and people close to him.

  His memories of them over time would slowly wash away, like a sandcastle built the day before a storm. He inevitably would be drawn to the source of his power and be removed from them all. If this was his brother’s destiny, could he change it or help him accept what he was becoming? Faray knew this troubled Samuel.

  While Faray had lost all hope, locked in a cage like an animal, Samuel hadn’t given up on them. If there was ever a time he needed to be strong and supportive of his younger brother, this was the time.

  “I’ve always wondered since we were kids why you were only interested in the bow,” Faray said. “You never took any interest in the sword. Now I see why. Regardless of what happens, I know Mother and Father are proud of you.”

  “What are you going to do now?” Samuel asked, knowing there was nothing back home for them.

  “Well...” and as Faray was speaking, Samuel could feel something had changed. It wasn’t anything he could see, just sense. The soft breeze that was once constant now had a soft pulsing feel mixed in. It was gradually growing, as if drawing close to him, and he turned toward the direction of the pulse just before someone appeared from within the woods.

  “You are wanted inside,” said a tall man with a complexion similar to Tremay’s olive brown skin. Faray turned in surprise. The man had made no sound; if it wasn’t for Samuel turning to face his direction, he wouldn’t have known.

  “Follow me,” the man said, gesturing as he led the way.

  Iseac and Tremay were already inside waiting when Samuel and Faray arrived at a strange entrance covered in vines. “He will have to wait here,” the man said, looking at Faray. “The others are waiting for you inside.”

  The vines were parted by two women who stood at the entrance. A non-skilled observer would not have seen the plants move apart without the women actually touching them. These were Sekamin vines, a rare plant that would kill a man within hours of touching it, but it had no effect on women.

  Samuel walked into a dome-shaped room with the floor covered in trimmed grass that looked like a green rug. Vines and bamboo trees lined the walls and the room smelled like spring with blossoming flowers. Young women in pairs stood around four entrances. They were all dressed in brown gowns, with wide hanging sleeves and white broaches pinned above their right breast.

  Mats were set in a semicircle for each of them to sit. As Samuel sat looking around in amazement, the vines were parted and Annora stepped inside.

  “We do not have much time, so I will only tell you what you need to know. The hand of the shadow knows you are here, and they will soon be upon us.” Samuel looked at Iseac and Tremay; they seemed unperturbed. “There will be horses waiting for you when you leave, and you have to hurry. Your brother is already on his way,” she said to Samuel. “Iseac should be able to help you find your way once you are outside. There will be supplies for you and your men,” she told Tremay.

  “I was told your men came to our aid,” Iseac said. While he’d been thinking about asking how she knew they had needed help, he decided not to; it wasn’t relevant at the moment, so he said instead, “Thank you for everything.”

  “It is our duty,” she replied, “and I hope we meet again soon, since time does not favor us.” She handed Iseac a parchment.

  “This is for the king of Ditra-Vashine, and like every other king, he will be honored by your visit. Your amulet is the key to any of the Kingdoms. Let it be seen and you will have passage,” she said.

  “Could this be true?” Iseac wondered, as he always had it tucked underneath his garment.

  “The one born of the scroll will soon be known by all, and he needs to be prepared,” she said before they all felt the faint vibration.

  “They are here,’” she said, gesturing for two of the young women to open the vines.

  “We can help your men defend this place,” Tremay said, the natural instinct of an Ackalan showing.

  “I know,” Annora replied, “but not this time. Now go!”

  It was hard to argue with a woman who knew things before they happened. So Tremay bowed his head in salute as he left. Iseac did the same, following behind Tremay. Samuel wanted to ask a question, and then hesitated, but she saw it.

  “Young man, is there something you would like to ask me?”

  “Yes.” Samuel dipped his hand in his pocket. “I need to find the owner of this ring and was wondering if you could point me in his direction.”

  She held out her hand without saying a word, and Samuel placed the ringed necklace in it.

  As soon as the ring touched her palm, images of the baby she remembered holding at the cave entrance flooded her memory.

  “The owner of the necklace is around the eastern land of Bayshia,” she said. She did not ask where he found it as she placed the necklace back in Samuel’s hand. Her finger brushed his and she looked him straight into his eyes.

  “Do not be afraid of what you are to become.”

  Samuel stood there for another second before running to join the others.

  When Iseac stood up and started walking, his vision suddenly went out of focus and things around him became blurry. He slowed down for a brief second, resting his hands against the cave wall as he moved. Just as Samuel approached, his vision
came back. Iseac was glad no one noticed.

  “We’d better keep up with her,” Samuel said to Iseac as they were led by one of the women to an exit. They came out through a narrow entrance where horses were waiting for them, just as Annora said. Elena and the others were already there. As they mounted their horses, one of Annora’s men stepped out into the clearing.

  Tremay, who was about to mount his horse, stopped. The man held a boy by the collar of his shirt. Tremay recognized him immediately: it was the scruffy-looking boy who had wanted to join them. Jude, he remembered, was his name.

  “Release him,” Tremay said, and the man did. Jude straightened himself.

  “This is yours, sir,” he said as he held out his hand. Tremay recognized the hilt of the object; it was his shortsword.

  “This weapon has served me well,” Tremay said, “and I know it will do the same for you. You may keep it. Remember, it will protect you if you take care of it.”

  The boy looked at him, unsure of what to say. “Thank you, sir,” he said as Tremay mounted his horse and they rode off into the woods.

  ****************

  When Bollan opened his eyes again, drawn from the abyss of oblivion back into his body, he discovered that he was standing in midair on a stage in a room he recognized. He was dressed in his same clothes, with bloodstains showing where arrows once protruded from his flesh. The arrows were no longer there. He peered into the dark around him and could see veiled faces with their eyes staring on him. They, like him, were some of the highest-ranking men within his Lord’s sphere. He remembered taking the same oath as them.

  Following their gaze, Bollan looked up to see a being sitting on a pedestal and his heart dropped. He knew who had claim on his soul as he looked into the eyes of his Lord. They blazed like hot coals on a winter’s night. His master’s form was different, but the eyes were the same. He had freed him from the marble seal and promised him power and immortality.

  Bollan opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. As he stood there in terror, his master opened his hand and Bollan’s ring came loose, flying off his finger. It flew through the air and came to rest in his master’s palm. He looked at Bollan as he crushed the ring. Bollan puffed into dust and was gone.

  “You have your promise,” the man said in a haunting voice that pricked those in the room. The man wore a black cloak, with the inside covered in a red silk that covered most of his body. He had two red gems on each of his wrists, held in place by a black rod that was woven around his finger. The air seemed to still around him as he approached, and everyone in the room bowed their head.

  “Destroy the boy and bring me the star of Lamtin,” the man said. “Now rise.” As those in the circle rose, their rings began to glow and their master was gone.

  *******************

  Interlude: The Anamerian stopped writing and placed his pen by the side of his ink jar. He waved his hand over the oil lamp and the lamp winked out. Tomorrow they would continue their journey in the snow and hopefully make their way through parts of Kadan’s Gate, if it froze tonight. They should be able to cut their travel time and make it to the borders of Ditra-Vashine, where part of their army would be waiting, he hoped just before he closed his eyes.

  Epilogue

  An unusual ruckus was taking place along the streets of Palmer when Jayden stepped out of his room and headed down the old wooden stairs that creaked as he made his way downstairs to the once-lively room. He stepped outside the inn into the chilly night that reminded him that winter was fast approaching.

  He stood there in surprise as flames from burning buildings on both sides of the street lit the night sky. The Hengan Red Inn where he was staying was only a hundred yards from one of those burning buildings.

  Jayden looked around in disbelief, unaware of what he was breathing in until he started to cough from the smoke that filled the air. He placed his left arm over his face, using his cloak as a shield.

  The Hengan Red Inn was one of the oldest buildings along this part of the street and the only place he was able to find a room he could afford. The rundown building was so old, Jayden knew it wouldn’t take much to set the building ablaze and send it crumbling down.

  He’d been happy to finally be able to spend the coming winter somewhere warm, and not in a barn or a makeshift tent. Now that was about to change. “Just when I thought that maybe I could catch a break after three years of continued hardship, this happens.”

  If he could complain, he would have; but there was no one to complain to, so he pulled his cloak tightly around himself and stepped away from the inn into the crowded street.

  From what he could see, no one was trying to douse the fires on the burning shops or inns. Instead, the crowds were frantically rushing away from Terram, the small farm town on the outskirts of Bayshia.

  All sorts were on the road. People with hand carts or mule carts, some carrying sacks, wagons of varying sizes and shapes−rushing east to seek refuge in the city.

  Jayden was jostled along as he tried to find out what was going on, but the noise around him was so loud, he couldn’t completely make out what the people were saying, except for a few words such as “under attack,”” monsters” and “invasion.”

  In the midst of the chaos, the town guards arrived. They were on horseback, making their way through the crowd, which was heading in the opposite direction. People moved out of the way, but they didn’t stop.

  Fixed on their destination, the guards rode without breaking stride. Just before they were completely out of sight, something was tossed into the air. It landed in the middle of the street with a bang, drawing everyone’s attention close to the area including Jayden who was horrified by what he saw.

  What had been tossed in the air was a guard with part of his body and horse missing. A loud howl that followed a second later seemed to mute everything, including the uproar that followed.

  Shock held Jayden in place, while the crowds ran for safety. That was when he saw them: beasts that were half human cutting through the crowd like weeds, with parts flying at every wave of their massive weapons. As they made their way in his direction, a man appeared out of thin air, dressed in black and red.

  His eyes were fixed on Jayden, who began to run as fast as his legs would take him, trying to get away. The faster he ran, the closer the figure seemed to get. It was like trying to run away from the sun.

  “Do not run from me, child,” the figure said in a voice that curled like a viper. Jayden stopped running, realizing it was of no use. Exasperated, he turned to face the figure.

  “What do you want with me?” he asked, trying to hide the terror in his voice.

  “Does it matter?” said the voice, which was that of a man. “My master knows you, peasant, and believes you are somehow different from the rest of these maggots.” His tone did not hide his disdain for Jayden and the people being slain around him.

  “You have been given a chance to prove yourself worthy in his service. If you do, your reward shall be infinite and you shall rule the earth till time itself ends. I will not tell you the alternative, but you must choose.”

  “If choosing this path you say involves destroying innocent lives, then no!”

  “Innocent lives, you say.” The man laughed hollowly. “You call crushing insects underfoot like them lives! If this is your choice, then you will die with the rest of this filth.”

  He stretched out his hand in front of him. The red ring on his finger flared and he began to squeeze.

  Jayden dropped to his knees, struggling for air, and shook himself out of his sleep.

  He was breathing hard as he sat bare-chested on the edge of his bed. It was only a dream, he thought. Or was it?

  He placed his right hand on his neck just to make sure.

  “It was only a dream,” he muttered, reassuring himself. He reached out subconsciously to touch something underneath his shirt, but it wasn’t there; realizing it, he looked out the only window in his room. It was still dark outsid
e. He pulled on his gloves to cover his hands before putting on his shirt and boots. He walked out of his room, down the old wooden stairs that creaked under his feet as he tried to step out quietly. The bar was empty of people as he walked past it and unlatched the front door.

  Standing alone at the entrance of the inn, he looked to the right and left of the street; it was quit. He looked up into the heavens; one of the stars seemed to flash a little brighter. He again looked at both ends of the street before going back inside, closing the door behind him. Tomorrow he would need to move again.