While they ate—simple roasted vegetables and some of the bread they had left—Fahtin noticed Aeden’s eyes flicking now and then to the darkened forest around them. Did he see something, or was he just being careful?
“I think we should start keeping watch at night,” he said. “We can sleep in shifts. I’ll take the first shift while you get a little sleep.”
She agreed and soon was wrapped in her cloak and falling asleep. She took her turn early in the morning so he could rest, with directions to wake him before dawn.
The next day, they continued walking until it was almost too dark to see. Aeden had insisted for some reason, saying he would tell her why later. They found another place to camp, not quite so ideal as the day before, but still comfortable enough.
Her red-haired companion had been deep in thought all day, answering her questions with a minimum number of words and not offering much dialog of his own. He seemed preoccupied. When she asked him about it, he shrugged and said he had some things on his mind. She worried that he wouldn’t tell her about it, but decided to allow him some time to tell her when he wanted to. She would not push him.
“Enough,” Aeden said loudly into the air, startling her with his volume and suddenness. “Raki, you might as well come and sit down with us. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
What? What was he talking about? “Aeden?” Fahtin said, but then heard a small sound off in the forest behind her. She spun, drawing a knife in each hand.
Raki shuffled into the firelight, head down and shoulders slumped.
“Raki?” Fahtin said. “Why are you here?”
“He followed us,” Aeden said, handing a waterskin to the boy.
“How did you see me?” Raki asked. “I’m pretty sneaky, as you know.”
“I didn’t see you,” Aeden answered. “Well, maybe a slight movement of a bush here or there, but it wasn’t that. It’s that feeling when someone is watching you. I had it, but it didn’t feel dangerous. I wasn’t sure at first, but then when it went on for a few days and we still weren’t attacked, I figured it was you.”
“You mean, if I hadn’t come out,” the boy said. “You would have just thought you were mistaken?”
“Aye.”
“Oh.” He sighed.
“Wait a minute,” Fahtin said, glaring at the younger boy and crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “Aren’t we forgetting the most important part here? It’s not whether you saw him or he is sneaky enough. The question is, what were you thinking? You left the family and you put yourself at risk following us on your own like this.”
“My Nani let me go,” Raki said. “She had a vision more than a year ago that showed her I would be better off if I went with you. Not just me, but you would be better off, and the family. Everyone. She didn’t want to make a scene of it when you left, so she told me to follow you.”
“Really?” Fahtin asked.
“Yes. She said I will play a part in what you two will do.”
“We can’t very well ask you to go back now,” Aeden said. “I guess you’ll just have to come with us. You can have the middle watch as punishment.”
The boy’s smile brightened up the campsite. He came and sat down near the fire, and Aeden handed him some of the rabbit Fahtin had killed with a skillful throw of one of her knives earlier in the day.
The next morning, the three set out together, Raki still smiling at being allowed to come along. It only faltered when he yawned, which was often.
“You’ll get used to the schedule soon enough,” Fahtin told him.
Late in the day, they came across a man walking a horse, going the opposite way on the road.
“Ho, traveler,” Fahtin said.
“Good afternoon to you, travelers,” the man said as he took his hat in his hand and bowed. The horse ran into the back of him and he muttered something at it.
“You might want to change your mind about traveling that way,” she said. “There are some creatures attacking people at random. They have wiped out at least two Crow villages and attacked a Gypta caravan.”
“Your caravan?” the man asked.
“Gealich claidhimh d’aresh slaoch!” Aeden spat. The man raised his eyebrow.
“What? Why would you ask that?” Fahtin said, trying to ignore Aeden.
“Your clothes, girl. All three of you. I know what Gypta garb looks like.”
“Oh,” she said. “Right. Yes, it was our caravan.”
“Then why have you left it? Was it wiped out? If so, how did you survive?”
“Cachten daedos d’estaigh,” Aeden said under his breath. The man burst out laughing.
“Why are you laughing?” Fahtin asked. She twisted her wrist to feel if her knife was loose in its sheath.
“What was that?” the man asked Aeden. “Something about god shitting in a pan?”
Aeden’s face had gone red. “…in your stewpot, actually.” The man laughed harder.
“You’re no Gypta, not speaking Chorain like that. Not with that hair. You’re Croagh.”
“Aye,” Aeden said standing up straighter and looking the man in the eyes, “and what of it?”
“Oh, I mean no offense, my friend. None at all. I have always enjoyed a good Chorain curse. I’m a scholar, you see. I specialize in language and history.” He looked the three over. “I am due for a break; would you care to share some of my food? I have plenty and I could use some good conversation.”
Fahtin looked at Aeden. He was still staring at the man, but he nodded.
“We would love to. Uh…?” she said.
“Dannel. Dannel Powfrey.” He put his hand out and shook Fahtin’s, then Raki’s, and finally Aeden’s. After they gave him their names, he said, “the Tannoch clan, eh? It’s very nice to meet all of you. Please, let’s go over to that little clearing and relax. I would love to hear the story of how a Croagh of Clan Tannoch has come to be traveling with Gypta and wearing their clothing. Very rarely do the Croagh marry outside the clans, and to wear others’ garb instead of highland dress is something I have never heard of.”
Once settled, Dannel told them about himself to start things off.
“I am a graduate of the Academy at Sitor-Kanda.”
“Are you a hero?” Raki asked. “A warrior?”
“Oh no. As I said before, I am a historian and a linguist. I study languages and things that have passed. Much safer than those other professions you named.”
“But you were trained at the Hero Academy,” Aeden said. “Surely you must have studied combat and trained in the fighting arts.”
“I had a little instruction in fighting,” Dannel said. “Dreadful classes. I am not a good student of those endeavors. No, I use my mind, not my body. I am no one’s hero. I am simply traveling the world trying to solve what mysteries I can find.”
The other three told their stories as well. Dannel rubbed his chin thoughtfully as they recounted the tale of how Aeden came to be with them.
“And these creatures you spoke of?” Dannel said. “What did they look like? How did they act? Was it possible to kill them?”
Fahtin stiffened at that last question. Why would he ask a question like that? What did he know?
“We have no time for games, Dannel,” Aeden said. “What do you know of the situation? It is obvious you know something.”
“I know much of many things, my friend. What would you have me say?”
“Do you know of the Malatirsay?” Aeden asked.
“Ah, go right for the most important part. Yes, I like that. I do know something of the Malatirsay, of the Song of Prophecy, if that is what you are asking.”
Aeden looked at him, those blue eyes on fire. “Aye. That is what I am asking.”
“Ask, then,” Dannel said. “I, and my knowledge, are at your service. What would you have me tell you?”
Aeden put on a thoughtful expression, considering.
Chapter 28
Aeden wasn’t sure about this man, this Dannel Powfrey. He was knowled
geable, that was certain. There were not too many outside the clans who knew Chorain. That bit was embarrassing. He seemed to know of the culture of the highlands as well. But did he truly know about the Song? Aeden thought it was the property of the Gypta. How would this young man know of it?
He referred to him as a young man in his own mind, but Dannel Powfrey was probably a decade or more older than Aeden. He surely didn’t appear as if he was any type of hero. He was barely as tall as Fahtin and very skinny. Pale, too, as if he didn’t get out in the sun much, which was strange since he was traveling. His light brown hair and brown eyes would allow the man to blend in anywhere, except maybe in the highlands or the Rhaltzheim, with their light hair and eyes. He seemed trustworthy enough, his plain face and nondescript nose comforting.
The man was watching him with those eyes. He had a strange expression on his face, his mouth in almost a kind of smirk. Fine. If he wanted Aeden to work for the information, then work he would.
“What do you know of the Malatirsay, and his role?” Aeden asked.
“Yes, the Malatirsay,” Dannel said. “His, you ask? What makes you think the Chosen is a man? Could it not be a woman?”
Aeden hadn’t really thought of that. Not because he did not believe women could be heroes. There were women in the clans that could outfight any of the flatlander men, and many of the highland men. No, he had just assumed that it would be a man because Jehira said he was the Malatirsay. “Point taken. Does the prophecy say it will be a woman?”
“I will answer your question with a question. Do you know anything yourself of the Song of Prophecy?”
“I…” Aeden seemed to have lost control of the conversation. He would answer, though, if it would show his good faith. “I know the Song in Dantogyptain, but I only know what a few parts of it mean. The rest of it must be translated.”
Dannel sat up straighter. “Dantogyptain? Truly? That version of the Song predates the written copies I have studied by some amount of time, if it has maintained its veracity. Could you perhaps speak it for me?”
“I can sing the Song for you, if you will stop your games and answer my questions.”
“It’s a deal, my friend. Dantogyptain.” His eyes became unfocused and he got a hungry look on his face.
Aeden cleared his throat, looked at each of his friends and at the scholar, and sang. As he did so, he tried to separate himself from the rhythm, the power of it. He didn’t want any stray magic to start flying around.
When he finished, he saw that Fahtin and Raki were sitting there, motionless, looking at him as if in a trance. Dannel Powfrey had tears in his eyes.
“By Surus, that was beautiful. If I could only have you meet with one of the masters at the Academy so that the Song could be written down. Oh.” He blinked a few times and then looked at Aeden. “But no, I have important work to do yet and you are on an urgent mission yourself. But after, maybe after…”
“I have sung the Song for you now,” Aeden said. “Tell me what you can.”
“Right,” Dannel said. “First off, the word Malatirsay is interesting in itself. It is not Dantogyptain, which I am sure you already know. It is not even truly Alaqotim, not the form in use at the Academy in current times.”
“Alaqotim?” Fahtin asked. “What is that?”
Dannel shifted his gaze to her, almost seeming surprised to find her there. He must have really been caught up in the Song not to notice a woman as beautiful as Fahtin just a few feet away.
“Alaqotim, the language of power. It is used for the casting of magic, and for…other things. As a language for communication, it is considered dead, but it is alive and well at Sitor-Kanda. Thousands of years ago, it was the primary language in the world. But then, the world was more magical back then, not stunted and impotent as it is now. But I digress.
“The term Malatirsay has an interesting construction. It is the combination of two words; malan meaning chosen, special, or unique; and tirsus, meaning warrior. The most interesting part, however, is the ending. The form of the word indicates plurality.”
“More than one?” Raki asked, overcoming his shyness and getting caught up in the conversation.
“Truly,” Dannel said. “But it gets more interesting. In the ancient form of the language, plurality was often used to indicate station or rank. Those of high stature were often referred to in the plural. Have you not heard that some kings or queens say such things as ‘We will cause this to be done’? So, is Malatirsay more than one, or is it a title that was written in that form to demonstrate importance?
“Alaqotim has different methods for depicting one thing, two things, or more than two, but with this word, the plurality could be a single person with a title, two people, or a hundred. It could very well mean that there is an entire group or army to combat the animaru.”
Aeden clenched his jaw and shook his head slowly. He had wanted answers and this man was teaching him grammar for a long-dead language. “Is there a point to this, Dannel?”
“There is, I assure you.” The scholar turned his body to face Aeden squarely. “I’m not sure which part of the Song this is in your version—things could have been rearranged for all we know—but there is a part that says:
Malatirsay, split asunder
One to two, but back to one
Separated but brought whole
Welded by the fire’s touch
“It seems likely that the word indicates, then, that the Malatirsay is important, deserving the plurality of high station, but also that he—or she—is also plural within him or herself. It seems to say that the Chosen will be split somehow, and then brought back together. Another part of the Song indicates the Malatirsay will die and then live again, so that could agree with the reference of two in one.”
Aeden considered this. He had died, or all but. The young clan warrior had passed from existence, replaced by the adopted Gypta. It could all fit, though he wasn’t sure if he was just trying to make it seem as if it was logical.
Dannel watched him in silence. “Are you the Malatirsay, Aeden of Clan Tannoch, highland born and Gypta raised? Are you the One?”
The frankness of the question caused Aeden to freeze and stare at the scholar. Fahtin and Raki seemed to be holding their breath. Dannel Powfrey’s little smirk returned.
“What have you not told me, my highland Gypta friend?”
After a long pause, Aeden answered him. “There is a soothsayer in the Gypta family, Raki’s grandmother. She told me the Song referred to me.”
“Ah. Did she see it in a vision or did she just think that it was so? It makes a difference.”
“I…I don’t know. She told me I should go to Sitor-Kanda to ask for help, to ask for knowledge about what is happening.”
“Yes,” Dannel said. “That is wise advice. There are those at the Academy that could surely help you. If only I was not engaged in urgent business, I would accompany you. I have already used too much precious time in these few hours speaking with you.”
Dannel seemed more than the unassuming skinny man that Aeden had thought him to be. He gave the impression now of competence and knowledge. Maybe there was something to this Hero Academy.
“Then you agree that we should go to the Academy as Jehira suggested?” Fahtin asked.
“I do,” the scholar said. “I think you would find answers there, maybe even help in what you need to do. The purpose of Sitor-Kanda has always been to prepare the Malatirsay for the end times. When you get there, speak with the Master of Prophecy. Tell him I told you to go there. He will know what to do.
“One other thing I can tell you, something you might already know, is about the creatures you have faced. There are ancient records of a place, another world, one where darkness is light and life is death. One of the prophets called it Aruzhelim, the dark world, and the name is apt.
“Once, there was an expedition, a group of powerful mages who believed they had cracked the wall dividing the two worlds. But that is not a good description. T
hese mages wrote an account of their research. They stated that Aruzhelim was, in fact, one of the points of light in the sky, so far away that we could only see a glimmer from Dizhelim.
“They outfitted themselves and prepared to breach the distance between worlds with their magic. Witnesses to their departure reported seeing a dim, poorly lit landscape of rugged mountains and rocks through the portal they opened and entered. When it closed, the expedition was never seen again. This, of course, deterred any others from duplicating the research.
“It is believed that this world, this Aruzhelim, is the home of the animaru, and that somehow they have gained the ability to enter our own world. The Song makes it clear that the dark creatures, the animaru, will swarm upon the land and eventually engulf it. They will snuff out all life on our world, causing Dizhelim to become a copy of their own lightless home. If the Song is to be taken literally, only Malatirsay stands in the way. Only Malatirsay can throw back the black tide that can end all life on Dizhelim.”
The three travelers looked at the scholar, eyes wide. No one spoke.
Dannel got up from the rock he was sitting on and dusted off his pants casually, as if he had not just talked about the end of everything. “I will need to be moving on now. Hopefully we will meet again, maybe at the Academy after I have finished my tasks.” He reached out to Aeden to shake his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Aeden Tannoch. And you Fahtin Achaya and Raki Sinde.”
“Likewise,” Aeden said. “I thank you for the information. At the very least, I know now that our original destination was the correct choice. I look forward to meeting you again.”
The three shook hands with the scholar, and he stowed his cooking utensils on his horse, which had been standing patiently grazing on some long grass nearby. He turned to go down the road in the direction the trio had come, but stopped to look at Aeden one last time.
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