The Awakening

by Gary Alan Wassner

  “Aye,” Clovis reiterated. “A legacy to be proud of. It comes as no surprise to me,” he said, challenging his friend.

  The blonde-haired warrior bent his head sheepishly as if embarrassed by not having guessed at her glorious heritage.

  Alemar’’s face reddened. “Would that I were nearly as brave as she,” she responded.

  “Your time may yet come to prove yourself, your highness,” Clovis interjected. “I, for one, have no doubt that you will rise to the occasion no less courageously than your ancestor.”

  Giles jumped. “Did you hear that?” he asked, interrupting the somber mood of the other two.

  Alemar and Clovis focused their attention upon their companion. “Hear what?” Clovis asked.

  “I do not know. It sounded like a voice,” Giles replied, sitting up high in his saddle, his head shifting from left to right.

  “It is the same sound I heard when we first trod upon this ground,” Alemar responded, listening intently herself. She urged Shira carefully ahead, and searched the landscape for a sign of life. “Be careful,” she warned. “The ice grows thinner as we speak.”

  “Do you see the glow as I do, Princess? The ice appears almost orange in color,” Clovis remarked.

  “The heat flows from the south,” she said, surveying the area. “You can almost see it radiating.”

  Alemar yanked upon the reins, leapt from her horse and knelt upon the frozen ground. With her gloved hands, she cleared away the loose snow on the surface beneath her, rubbing the ice in order to see it more clearly. Just as suddenly, she stood and jumped backward, her face stricken with fear.

  “Below the surface. Look. I swear on the First, I can see faces,” she exclaimed to the others.

  Giles and Clovis dismounted as well and rushed to the Princess’ side. Giles moved a little to her left, and he used his heavy boot to push the snow away from the area upon which he stood.

  “Here too, my Princess.” He jumped back a pace.

  Clovis echoed the others in a matter of seconds. Astounded by the discovery, they were momentarily mesmerized. They stood their ground and looked closely at the ice, trying to determine if what they thought they saw beneath it was reality or illusion.

  “Now do you hear the noise, Clovis? It is voices and they are calling out for our help,” Alemar cried.

  The ice was vibrating gently now, as if something were pushing upon it and unsettling it. All three of the travelers felt it simultaneously.

  “Look closely. These are elfin faces below. How can this be?” Giles blurted out.

  “It is the army of Iscaron,” Alemar concluded. “Their spirits haunt the Pass of the Righteous, and with the thinning of the ice, they are trying to get out,” she said, fear replacing astonishment.

  The pounding grew louder and the surface seemed to be moving more visibly now. They could also hear the voices clearly, crying out in the ancient tongue for help. Everywhere they turned, there were frightened countenances staring up at them, their frozen expressions, twisted and contorted beneath the ice. The cries grew louder and louder, and the vibrations grew stronger. The entire landscape was pockmarked with domes of pressure thrusting up from below. The plain upon which they stepped was alive with this grim activity, and the intensity thereof grew with each passing moment.

  “We must flee quickly,” Alemar warned. “If they break through, we’’ll fall into the icy depths ourselves.” Her eyes sought a way of escape. “Come, follow me carefully. Walk your mounts, do not ride them. And tread cautiously,” she advised.

  She directed them to a still snowy knoll, hoping that the ice would be thicker there if it had not yet been exposed to the heat of the air. All around them, they could see the plain rising in convex semicircles, first here and then there, as if it was being pushed upward from below. The dome-like protuberances would last for a moment and then ease back. They could also hear muffled voices coming from all directions, each agonizing in its tone, rising in volume with the caps of ice, and dissipating slowly as they disappeared.

  From the small rise that they now stood upon, the three riders surveyed the entire area around them. As far as they could see, the ice was in motion, burgeoning and slumping, dancing to a macabre rhythm emanating from somewhere below. The ice began to creak and groan with each push from the dark depths, and the discourse grew louder and louder until they were forced to cover their ears to shield themselves from the sounds.

  Giles drew his spear from the side of his saddle and readied himself for a confrontation, though he knew not where or how it would originate. Clovis, too, unleashed his bow and set an arrow to the string. Alemar scanned the area with her strong elfin eyes for a route upon which they could make their escape to the imposing hills ahead. She feared that if they stepped upon the wrong spot, the entire surface would collapse, what with the warmth from above coupled with the spirits from below.

  “Come, follow me. Lead your horses carefully,” she said. She spotted a narrow ridge of ice a hundred yards or so ahead.

  She guided them to the small promontory, stepping gingerly upon the surface only after the pressure from below eased and the ice was flat again. They made their way slowly and painstakingly across the plain, observing the tormented faces pressed against the frozen water, staring up at them through hollow eyes and pummeling for release from their frozen tomb. They listened to the harrowing screams and the sad pleas for aid, hearing of the wives and children and families left behind, of the lives never lived and the futures never realized.

  “It was a horrible death that they suffered,” Alemar said, choking back the tears. “Their spirits have never found peace. Until now, they probably never had a chance to relieve their tortured souls.”

  “What will they do when they break free?” Giles asked, knowing that the answer could never be certain.

  “Where will they go? Back to Eleutheria to find their loved ones?” Clovis speculated as he watchfully sidestepped a newly formed bulge, concern mounting for his own family, innocent and unaware back home in the city of ice.

  “Or will they march against he who imprisoned them to begin with?” Alemar suggested.

  “How will they know that Caeltin was the cause of their demise?” Giles asked.

  “They will know,” Clovis asserted. “That is not something that they would be mistaken about after all their tiels of imprisonment.”

  “We cannot imagine what the spirits feel or know,” Alemar surmised. “We can only hope that in the world of the phantoms and wraiths there is communication of some sort. We will surely find out on our return, if we ever make it across this plain of misery,” she said ominously.

  As the time passed, the sun grew hotter and the air moister. The surface was slippery and treacherous as pools of cold water formed in many places, as the snow slowly melted and gathered in the hollows of the plain. Soon, they were unable to even hear one another speak, the moans and cries had grown so loud. The ice muffled the noises and made them seem incredibly deathly and even more detached from the world of the living, yet strong and deafening nonetheless.

  “Look upon them no longer. The agony in their eyes is too much to bear,” Alemar shouted. “Beware that the undead do not capture you with their heartache and draw you too deeply into their sorrowful world.”

  They followed the ridge of ice as far as they could, and the travelers eventually found themselves very close to the edge of the rocky hills that would lead them up to the Caves of Carloman. The noise subsided here somewhat, as they were no longer surrounded by ice on all sides, but the eerie gloom persisted, blanketing the entire area, and it weighed heavily upon their souls.

  “They had come so close,” Giles observed, as the surface even this near to the rocks still bulged and pulsed.

  Alemar frowned. “Yes, it seems. Iscaron must have suffered so deeply. What tragedies some are compelled to endure. But, had not Caeltin been cast out, Alicea would probably have died. It is said that he first infected those who were loved the most dear
ly as he prepared to enter our world. Such is the way of evil. The greater the loss, the greater the pleasure.”

  “This must have been where the advance guard of the army was when the ice shattered,” Giles surmised, noticing that they were now standing upon the area closest to the rocky hills that was still inhabited below.

  “Iscaron must have fallen near here,” Alemar replied, scrutinizing the surrounding terrain. “He would certainly have been in the forefront of his army, if legend has depicted him accurately. He was not the type to allow others to risk more than he would have himself.”

  They finally reached the safety of the escarpment of rock that abutted the frozen sea. With tremendous relief, the three riders guided their horses off of the slippery ice and onto more solid footing. The crescendo of noises still reached their ears, and from the rocks, they could see just how treacherous their journey across the Pass of the Righteous had been. Silently, Alemar, Giles and Clovis gazed back upon the land they had just traversed. The surface continued to rise and fall as if it were alive, the ice continued to groan and creak in response and the bloodcurdling wails and ululations pierced their ears unceasingly.

  “We must face this once more when we return,” Alemar said, breaking the pregnant silence.

  “If they have not already broken through, and encountered us in the caves,” Giles warned.

  “Then we will face the danger as it meets us,” Clovis said.

  Alemar raised her chin high. “We must, my friends, or our beloved Eleutheria shall melt away into the void and be no more. May the First guide us through the caverns and lead us to the answers that we seek.”

  “Aye to that, my Lady,” Giles and Clovis echoed.

  “Come quickly. Let us be off. The heat builds even as we speak,” the Princess said, glancing askew at the burning sun. “Perhaps the caves will provide us with a means of stemming the red tide that is lapping upon our shores,” Alemar concluded, as she mounted Shira once again and led her up the narrow path through the jagged rocks, leaving behind the woebegone undead writhing and screaming and pounding upon the weakening ice.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “You are fortunate sister, that we happened upon this spot at just the right moment,” the Wizard said. “I dare not contemplate what would have become of you and your pony had our timing not been quite so opportune.”

  “I am very grateful to you both,” Tamara responded, unsure of just whom she was addressing. “I agree. I do not know what would have occurred had you not arrived when you did.” She walked over to Hector and calmed him with her gentle strokes. “What brings you here, sir, if I may be so bold as to inquire?” she asked, while she backed up slightly, creating some distance between herself and the others.

  “Many things, sister. Many things,” he responded evasively, it seemed to her, and he was clearly aware of her discomfort.

  “If you do not wish to confide in a stranger, I can understand that,” she commented. She had never been a woman who remained silent about her feelings. “May I go then?” she asked.

  Premoran laughed quietly.

  “Why would you think that you are not free to do as you please? You are a bold woman. Why do you fear me, my child?” he asked, his thick eyebrows raised high.

  “I do not even know your name, but I do not feel that you will harm me. I have very good instincts. You did not save my life just moments ago in order to sacrifice me. Yet you could not have spoken truthfully before, and still not be a danger to me now,” she said carefully.

  Premoran gazed upon her quizzically .

  “I will not harm you. Of that you can be assured,” he said smiling. “And my name is Premoran. You were referring to my reference earlier to my brother?”

  “I am Tamara,” she offered, though she suspected that he already knew that. “And yes, I was. It is certainly untrue, as I suspected at once,” she assured him.

  “No, in fact it is quite true,” the old man replied.

  Tamara jumped back a pace, shocked by what she just heard. “You are kidding? Are you not?” she asked, on edge.

  “No, I am very serious.”

  “How could my senses have deceived me so? You do not feel evil to me.”

  “But, dear woman, I most certainly am not.”

  “I am sorry, but I do not understand,” Tamara said honestly. She was thoroughly perplexed, though she still was not feeling any sensations of danger. “How could that be possible?”

  “There is much that we do not understand,” he answered. “Colton is my brother as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow morning,” he continued. “We are as less alike as any two living things could be, though. He may be my brother in blood, but our commonality ends there.”

  This was all very difficult for Tamara to absorb in such a short time. She was unaccustomed to being outside the walls of the tower to begin with, and the events of the last few hours should have caused her more concern than they seemed to be causing. For some unknown reason, she was dealing with all of this very calmly. Yet to be standing before the brother of Colton dar Agonthea was almost too much to so readily accept.

  “I feel like a child who cannot fathom the conversations of the adults around her, though I am strangely undisturbed. Perhaps it is simply foolishness on my part and I am not bright enough to understand the consequences of what you say,” she said. She still felt totally comfortable in the stranger’s presence, despite his astounding declarations.

  “You are more astute than you give yourself credit for, Sister,” the wizard replied. “It would require more time than either of us presently have in order to satisfactorily explain these revelations to you. Perhaps another time,” he said.

  “I look forward to such a moment,” she responded, though still bewildered.

  The strange man-boy that arrived with him was wandering around while the two adults conversed. He seemed interested in all of the leaves and debris that lay upon the ground, more so than he was in the conversation. His body was delicate and his skin appeared almost translucent in the late afternoon sun. Tamara could not help but stare in wonder at the gossamer folds that lay beneath his arms, barely visible to the eye, yet there nonetheless.

  “I have never seen such a one as he,” she said to the wizard, gaining confidence with each passing moment. “Where does he hail from?”

  “He comes from across the great sea. But do not be deceived by his youthful appearance,” Premoran said, glancing at his friend. “Teetoo is older than you would imagine.”

  “He looks like a child,” she commented.

  “He is a child. Still, he is not young. The different races measure time otherwise than we might.”

  “Where are you headed, sir?” she inquired after mulling upon his answer for a moment.

  “To Seramour, my dear. And we have tarried here longer than we should have,” he replied without any hesitation this time.

  “I am going to see the great Lalas, Oleander,” she stated, and she lifted her chin proudly.

  “Ah, are you now?” Premoran replied, not surprised by her declaration. “I would love to accompany you, but it seems that there are others who need me more right now.”

  “So you knew already where I was headed?” she asked, blushing.

  “Yes, I did. Rest assured, you do not need anyone’s assistance on your journey,” he responded matter-of-factly.

  “Would that I had the confidence in myself that you seem to have in me,” Tamara replied, arching her eyebrows and sighing a deep sigh. “What else do you already know about me, may I ask?”

  “All that I need to, and no more,” he replied.

  “You speak like one of the Sisters,” she laughed.

  “It is an art, my dear. One learns with age how to say as little as one must and no more than one should. The fabric weaves of its own will. It is not for me to alter the pattern unnecessarily.”

  “The hour grows late. I really do not wish to be traveling during the evening, yet I must reach my destination as quick
ly as possible,” she realized, her concern growing with the fading sunlight. “Will you leave for Seramour immediately?” she inquired.

  “I must,” the Wizard responded. “My ‘suspicions’ have been confirmed regarding the need for my presence there. I have really lingered here far longer than I should have.”

  “Well then,” she said, reaching out her hand to the old man. “Perhaps we should be on our separate ways?”

  “Aye, we should,” he answered. He held out his hand and clasped hers firmly within it.

  Immediately upon coming into contact with his skin, her entire body warmed considerably, and she felt a wave of comforting sensations waft over her. Although she never really had any doubts about this strange man and his beautiful friend, Tamara was now absolutely certain that she was correct in her prior assumptions.

  “Goodbye,” she finally said, and she reluctantly released his hand. She felt strangely less fatigued now than she did only moments ago.

  “Farewell, good Sister. May the Gem of Eternity guide you through the darkness always,” he rejoined.

  Tamara gently climbed atop of Hector’s back and clicked to him to walk ahead. The obedient pony immediately started forward. She turned around to watch the two strangers as she walked, but to her great surprise, there was no trace of them anywhere any longer. They had both vanished as if they had never even been there to begin with. She bade Hector to turn around, and then she scanned the entire area with her eyes, searching the terrain for a sign of the wizard who had saved her life and the strange boy who accompanied him.

  “May the First help me if I imagined all of this,” she said out loud as she shook her head back and forth, though she knew in her heart that she had not. For some reason her eyes drifted upward and she saw a small speck high in the southern sky. She watched it as it moved rapidly away from her. Tamara rubbed her eyes with the backs of both of her hands, shrugged her shoulders and then proceeded on her way.