The Branches of Time

by Luca Rossi

  “As you know,” Miril continued, “the priest has left us, unfortunately. If I had been the one officiating the wedding, he would have been spared. But that's not the way things went.” Miril seemed to be sincerely saddened by the death of the priest, although this meant she herself had been saved.

  “You may have noticed that the priest and I never left this Temple together. Energy balances are very important. Since our people first stepped foot on this island, the priestly class has always had the duty to protect all of its inhabitants. In order for that to work, there always need to be at least two priests. Both receive the same teachings, so that they can work in unison and in symbiosis in order to perform the necessary rituals. Most importantly, so they can perform the protection spells.”

  Lil had actually never thought about why there were two priests.

  “Do you know how a new priest is chosen?”

  Sure, of course. It was the highest honor for a family to have a child chosen for the priestly life. Not only would the infant's destiny be changed forever, but the position of the entire family would rise to the highest level of the island's hierarchy, and the head of the family would be admitted as a member of the council of Elders.

  “Of course. When a baby is born, the priests go to see it during the first few hours of its life and decide if it's going to become one of you.”

  Miril thought of how to make her explanations more accessible to the young woman. “You see, Lil, every child has their own energy current, an inherited trait and a predisposition that may be perfectly suited for the major powers and responsibilities that come along with the priestly life. Becoming a priest is not just a high honor, but first and foremost a heavy burden. The life of all of the inhabitants of this island depends on the protection provided by magic. If the priests fail, if they don't fulfill their duties, the consequences may be very harsh indeed.”

  So then it's their fault if...Lil started to wonder.

  Once again, it seemed as if Miril could read her thoughts: “Lil, I can assure you that neither I nor the priest were ever distracted from our duties. What happened can't in any way be connected to a failure on our part. There must be another cause and, one way or another, I'll figure it out.”

  Is that a desire for revenge in Miril's eyes? Lil wondered.

  “In any case, Lil, we will need to attend to many things over the next few days, including finding food, taking care of the animals and the fields, and checking the houses of all those who have left us. But the most important thing is that we need to be sure that the magical protections of the island are not interrupted, ever, for any reason whatsoever. In order for this to happen, there need to be two priests once again!”

  Bashinoir! So that's why they were sitting in the kitchen, near the warmth of the hearth, the table laden down with all those delicacies. The priestess was trying to tell her that her husband would become a priest. But priests...don't have wives! They don't sleep in the same bed as women. They dedicate themselves to the Temple, to the rites, to magic. They have practically no ties to their family of origin. So the priestess was trying to tell her that her husband would no longer be her husband.

  Her mouth hanging open, Lil observed the woman sitting in front of her holding a mug of milk in her hands. She couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy. Miril is so gorgeous!

  Tall and regal, Miril had a timeless beauty to her. She had always seemed so natural while performing the rites, her movements graceful, as if she were a creature of pure spirit. Even during those sacred events, Lil hadn't been able to take her eyes off the elegance of her gestures, made even more fascinating by the white veils of her tunic.

  No, that can't be it. My husband is a clumsy lumberjack. Bashinoir could never take on such a role! But then, why was Miril talking to her about it? It wasn't at all necessary to ask for her permission: on that island, the law was written by the word and wishes of the priest, nothing more and nothing less. That was not about to change, even if there were only three of them left now. Or maybe Miril is only trying to be nice to me, asking me kindly to step aside?

  The two women sat in silence for a few moments. Lil was caught up in her thousand and one thoughts. Her fingers lingered near her mouth as she nervously bit her nails. The priestess, from time to time, glanced over at her, smiling, a knowing look in her eyes.

  “What do you think?” Miril asked her.

  “Priestess...I mean, Miril, I...I really don't know what to say. Of course, your will shall be done, I mean...what you say goes. If you think Bashinoir should become a priest, I will accept that and I won't get in the way.” A tear made its way down Lil's young face. “Yes, I'll accept it. As you wish, priestess – I mean, Miril.” Now it all made sense for Miril to be telling her all of this: she wanted Bashinoir to be free from distractions, and that she, as his ex-wife, would prepare him in the best way possible to start down that spiritual path.

  Miril smiled yet again. “Lil, Bashinoir will not be the new priest. You will.”

  14

  The wizard Obolil staggered through the magic laboratory, leaning on a walking stick. His face wore a grim expression as his eyes darted quickly from one point to another. “Ah, Aldin, that fool! Look what he's done to this place. I wonder how anyone could get anything done with all this junk everywhere,” he wheezed.

  The apprentice Ilis stood in the center of the room, embarrassed, unsure of what to say, where to move, if he should sit or start cleaning.

  “Absolutely nothing. He understood absolutely nothing, from everything that I taught him. Look at what he surrounded himself with. And he thought he could break the barrier with this?” he said, sweeping his arm along the table and knocking off a bunch of precious objects. “Throw it all out in the garbage! I don't want to see any of this crap any more!”

  “But master...”

  Obolil turned around to look at the boy, his angry eyes framed by dark circles.

  “You'll speak when you're spoken to, boy. Do you understand me?”

  “Of course, master,” Ilis responded. He went to get a broom and dustpan in order to sweep away all of that crap.

  Watching the boy leave the room, Obolil gave him another order: “Then come right back here.”

  Reluctantly, Ilis threw out everything that had been so carefully collected over decades of research and returned to his new master, moving towards the table Obolil had, in the meantime, taken a seat at.

  “Sit down!”

  Ilis obeyed.

  “Give me your hands.”

  Obolil took Ilis' hands. The boy had to stifle a wave of disgust. The old wizard's body, despite having had a few days to refresh and reenergize, was still frightening,

  His eyes were sunken in their dark sockets. His face, hands, wrists and every visible patch of skin was covered with scars. Only half of his right eyebrow remained. His fingernails were broken, split or completely missing. A segment of the pinky finger on his left hand was missing, just like his right earlobe. The wizard could not hold his body up straight. Even while seated, he slouched so badly that the top half of his chest was nearly parallel to the top of the table.

  “Ah, I disgust you, don't I? Look at what our dear king has done to me! And that's the man I now have to serve. The man who rules over both of us, and he won't think twice about doing the very same thing to you if you don't give him what he wants.” Obolil spoke in a very low and hoarse voice, interrupted frequently by short coughing fits.

  “As for me, boy, I may not be here for very long. So if you want a different fate, you better be able to learn quickly.”

  Obolil closed his eyes, although his left eyelid remained open. He breathed in heavily: the air seemed to hesitate before entering his lungs.

  “Do what I do. And stop staring at me with those frightened eyes.”

  “Yes, master.”

  Ilis bent his head down.

  A few seconds later, a powerful energy began to flow from his right to his left hand. The sensation caught the apprentic
e unprepared, and he moved as if to withdraw his hands.

  “You didn't even get to this level? Poor Aldin. He'd have been the last child in the world I would have ever chosen for an apprentice, if I hadn't screwed his mother!”

  The energy flowed with an even greater intensity. Ilis felt himself catapulted into a vortex of emotions which inspired, alternately, happiness, fear, pure terror and joy.

  “Surrender, boy. Don't try to resist.”

  Ilis tried to do as he was told but his body only stiffened further.

  “I told you to surrender!” Obolil yelled at him, panting. Ilis thought the wizard was almost about to faint, so he tried to put into practice everything he had learned over those years. He relaxed his muscles and mentally recited a few formulas, releasing as much resistance as he could. The vortex of energy reached an unparalleled intensity. Suddenly Ilis found himself watching himself from above.

  What in the...?

  You've never done this before? Obolil asked him.

  You can...

  Read your thoughts? Of course! But only when we're out of our bodies.

  Ilis felt himself getting sucked back down.

  No, don't be afraid. Fear prevents you from advancing.

  Master I...I don't feel ready.

  Nonsense! I'm the one who decides if you're ready or not.

  What do you want to do?

  Obolil's voice came through clear and strong, his words articulate. Ilis realized that he respected that voice.

  They tortured my body, but they could never touch my spirit.

  Ilis felt slightly ashamed.

  We need to try and work together so we can find more information. The island is the problem. Aldin could have spent the next few centuries digging around for precious minerals and still never have gotten anywhere. The barrier is fed by the rituals on the island.

  But master, we used all the energy we had to create a cataclysm that would exterminate all of the inhabitants of the island. The master...I mean, Aldin personally went there to make sure his operation was a success.

  Oh really? Let's have a look. Visualize yourself near the Tridis reef, on this side of the barrier.

  Ilis tried, though he had never seen that place.

  Concentrate. You don't need to focus on the place. Simply think that you are there.

  Suddenly Ilis found himself above the sea. Hundreds of feet below, a reef was bathed in the foam of the waves. Obolil was at his side, incredulous and smiling.

  Aldin, that poor idiot! Can you feel the barrier?

  Ilis had no idea what to do.

  Don't look so sad. You don't feel it because it's not here anymore. But if you concentrate, you can feel the weak force left. Follow me.

  The wizard flew ahead, over the waves, followed by Ilis, euphoric with the emotions of being free in the air, with the wind and the light that crossed through his essence.

  Obolil stopped. And now?

  It's the barrier! It feels like a giant invisible wall is in front of us!

  Very good. You're less dumb than I thought you were. That charlatan of a wizard thought the barrier was no longer here. Poor idiot! If he were at least as talented as a court jester, he would have realized that it hadn't disappeared, it had only shifted. He stayed silent for a few seconds, lost in his own thoughts. But this is a good sign, because it means that whoever is still keeping it alive is not strong enough to push it very far North. Ilis, under no circumstances must you ever try to travel further South than this point here, or the barrier will decimate your spirit.

  But after the last ritual, Aldin swore that he had succeeded! He said he had even travelled down to the Southern lands.

  Aldin was a fool. He probably didn't even manage to travel through the astral planes. Back when I was around he was never able to, and I doubt he was able to learn by himself after I was gone. He probably only imagined that he had. Simple self-delusion. Besides, if he never taught you how to do it, it's probably because he couldn't do it himself.

  So is that why he died on that ship? Did he think he had eliminated the barrier and travelled to the Southern lands, when in reality, he hadn't?

  The thought made Ilis shiver. He remembered how proud his first master had been when he had announced that he was able to do what no wizard at any point in time had ever been able to do. But Ilis felt his heart ache for the fate of the poor boys who had left on those ships. The best soldiers and finest sailors in the kingdom had been chosen, and they were given the honor of sailing on the first ship that, after so much time, would take off to seek new lands and meet new people. Some of those boys had even been his friends.

  Concentrate, boy! Even if we can't move beyond this barrier, we can still detect the presence of the energies on the island from here. Don't imagine you're on the island, or else you won't make it out of this alive. Instead, try to feel the energies, even the most subtle ones.

  Ilis had no idea how to create such a connection to the island. He knew very little about these kinds of magic; Aldin himself had only understood a few basic notions. But he was certain that at least part of the ritual the deceased wizard had performed was successful. He could feel the movement of the material and, right after, the blood, the dismay, the shouts, the screams, the confusion...and the death.

  Obolil's shadow in front of him started to waver. He reached a level of transparence at which he was indistinguishable from the surrounding air. Then, suddenly, he became denser once again.

  Hmm. I see you've stayed behind to wander through your useless thoughts. Learn how to concentrate, because we need to come back often if we want to learn something more about our enemy.

  Our enemy? They're not all dead?

  The island seems to be deserted. I guess Aldin wasn't a total failure after all. But although it's well concealed, the energy of the Temple remains strong. And that's what emanates the protections that keep the barrier active. Not even I can perceive what hides inside of it, but if the Temple is able to diffuse such strong energy, there must certainly be somebody in there.

  So what can we do now, master?

  We can wait for them to leave. They can't stay hiding in there like little mice forever. But for now, let's go back. Show me if you've learned how to move through the astral planes, boy.

  Ilis visualized the laboratory they had left. He felt himself being sucked back down and a few seconds later returned, next to his own body. The transparent, ethereal image of Obolil appeared at his side. Yet again, he couldn't help noticing how different it was from the crumpled up creature flopping over the table down below.

  In the astral planes, we project the image that we feel of ourselves. If you think you're a white bear, that's what you'll appear as. But now we have other matters to attend to. Do you know how to go back to your body?

  No, master. I've never tried before.

  That dimwit should have at least taught you the rudimentary theoretical elements.

  Such criticism made Ilis feel rather uneasy. He wished he could perform some magic action that would impress the wizard, but he guessed that no matter what he did, he wouldn't receive anything but criticism. For the moment, he decided it was better to resign himself to that.

  15

  2000 years earlier

  Moltil, Brunus and Zalbia ran breathlessly along the wall of the palace perpendicular to the sea. The three children had no idea where to hide. The soldiers had left their flying ships and were now everywhere. Below them, a cluster of foot soldiers appeared in the courtyard. They were wounded. Some of them struggled to stay on their feet. They looked for a way out but, before they could take another step, two enemies appeared at the end of the courtyard. They moved forward calmly, unhurried.

  One of the soldiers encouraged his comrades: “For the Kingdom of Isk! For our king! For our homeland!” The soldiers pounced upon the two coming towards them, who placidly lifted their fingers and, with a single gesture, emitted a beam of light which, in a flash, dematerialized their assailants.

  T
errified, the children watched the scene unfold as they tried to remain hidden. Zalbia, however, couldn't contain a moan of horror and disgust. Moltil quickly covered her mouth with his hand and held her close to him.

  One of the two enemies looked up in their direction, but luckily didn't see them; they were shielded by the barriers of the walkway.

  “Hunter to ship. The courtyard is clear. How many are left in the palace?” one of the two asked, directing his question downwards.

  Moltil looked out, spying on them. They were standing straight, looking around in their purple uniforms. The one that had spoken wasn't holding any sort of communication device.

  “Another thirty-five,” his partner said, “hiding in the kitchens, in the dungeons, the tunnels underneath the palace and in the rooms of the upper wing. And there's still another ninety-eight outside. Let's go, the earlier we finish, the quicker we can go home.” The two swiftly left the courtyard.

  Moltil motioned for Brunus and Zalbia to keep quiet and follow him. The three children slunk along the wall and into a guard tower. Before going back in, Zalbia glanced out at their flying ships, anchored a few hundred yards from the coast and a few dozen feet above the surface of the water. They shone in the sun, grey with a large, upside-down purple V on their sides.

  Once in the tower, Moltil headed down the spiral staircase. Zalbia tugged at his arm: “Where are you going?” she asked in a whisper.

  “We need to get out of here. They're crawling through the palace,” the boy responded.

  “But didn't you hear what they said? There are still a lot outside who they want to eliminate. They're practically done here. If we stay inside, they won't find us, maybe we'll survive.”

  “But Zalbia, my father's armies are outside. If we join together with them, we'll be able to fight them.”

  “Moltil! Can't you see what they have? All they need to do is raise a finger and whatever's in front of them disintegrates. How can the soldiers fight against that?”

  Moltil felt defeated: “Zalbia, we have to try. My father raised me to be a king. I can't hide like a little flea!”