Cathadeus_Book One of the Walking Gates

by Jeff J. Peters

  “If you will not return with me, you will die,” Kael continued. “You cannot win.”

  “I will kill you and destroy your accursed forest!” the dark elf yelled, attacking again.

  “Then you have made your choice,” Kael said sadly.

  The Blademaster attacked, moving around the Dark Child in a dancing blur that Braxton could barely follow, jumping and twirling as he struck repeatedly at the evil elf. Each time, Kael penetrated his opponent’s defenses before being deflected away, nicking him here, scratching him there, as if the superior elf was almost playing a game with his younger foe. But the Dark Child was well-trained, and he held the power of all the dark emotions of an entire race awakening within him, strengthened now by the spirit magic stolen from Braxton. He too moved in fluid motion, attacking at every opportunity, forcing Kael to give up one step for every few gained. For a long time, they fought, each attacking or defending in response to the other. But Kael was the Blademaster, and his skill was unsurpassed. With a sudden flurry of blows, he forced the dark elf to block and give ground completely, pushing him back across the clearing. Then, inexplicably, he stopped, ceased his offensive, and retreated. He looked at the setting sun, turned to where Braxton lay watching and nodded, barely enough for him to notice.

  The Blademaster leaped forward toward his adversary with a speed that was uncanny, as if he simply disappeared from where he had stood a moment earlier and reappeared in front of his opponent. It caught the Dark Child by such surprise that he barely had time to raise his weapon. Kael anticipated his response and pushed upward with his own blade, catching the movement of the other by the hilt of his sword. He held the dark elf in place, the two combatants mirroring the frozen statues surrounding the clearing. Then, ever so slightly, Kael lowered his wrist. Braxton felt a deep, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The Dark Child reacted instinctively to the vulnerability. In one fluid movement, he stepped back, pulled his weapon free, and thrust forward. The blade disappeared into Kael’s stomach, reappearing an instant later, curving up out of the Blademaster’s back.

  “Kael!” Braxton screamed, tears flooding his eyes.

  The Dark Child grinned wickedly.

  But the fight wasn’t over. The Blademaster dropped his weapon and grabbed his opponent’s wrists, locking down upon them with a vicelike grip. For a moment the Dark Child hesitated, surprised by Kael’s reaction. Then he tried to pull his sword from Kael’s body. But the Blademaster held him firm, unflinching, his eyes focused on the dark elf’s face.

  Now! came Serene’s sudden and unexpected voice in Braxton’s mind. Her energy shot through him, healing his chest and renewing his strength.

  Scrambling to his feet, Brax recovered the Unicorn Blade and rushed toward the combatants still locked together. He yelled as he ran, gripping his weapon in both hands and raising it high above his right shoulder. Reaching the two elves, he struck with all his might, simultaneously focusing the spirit magic into the blade as he brought it down upon Kael’s opponent. It hit the Dark Child’s collar squarely, sliding through as easily as a stick might pass through water. The momentum of his charge took Brax past the two fighters, and he stopped several paces away, his back toward them. He stood there for a moment, hunched over, breathing hard, the tip of the Unicorn Blade touching the stone floor. Even before he turned, Braxton knew he’d found his mark.

  He looked back and rose to his full height, taking a deep breath. The two opponents were frozen, like the statues around them, facing each other—the Dark Child and the Blademaster. A gust of cold wind blew across the clearing, whipping Braxton’s cloak around his feet and swirling the leaves about him. His skin prickled as a chill ran over him, warning of some unseen evil. Then a deep silence fell across the ancient sanctuary, as if some unknown source had suddenly sucked all life from the world. Slowly, like watching in a dream, the head of the Dark Child tumbled to the ground.

  Braxton ran to Kael, dropping the Unicorn Blade and grabbing his elven mentor, his teacher, his friend, the man he’d come to love and respect over these past few weeks. Brax stared into his deep-blue eyes, and the Blademaster smiled back weakly. Kael glanced down to see the hilt of the sword still penetrating his stomach, then looked up and nodded.

  Braxton knew what he had to do. He placed his hand on the handle of the Dark Child’s weapon. An icy-cold malevolence met his touch, and he released his grip as if bitten by a viper. Looking back at Kael, he saw the elf’s normally strong eyes reflecting a fading light. In one movement, Brax grabbed the handle and pulled backward, drawing the sword from the Blademaster’s body and throwing it away.

  Kael exhaled sharply as the blade slid free. He closed his eyes and swayed. Brax helped him to the ground, leaning the elf against a block of broken marble of some long-forgotten warrior. Pulling off his own cloak, he tucked it under Kael’s head, cradling him gently in the small of his neck.

  “I’ll get some water,” he said, but the elf grabbed his arm.

  “Time for me to leave this world,” he replied, smiling weakly.

  “No, Kael!” Braxton shouted, shaking his head. “You cannot die!” Tears ran down his face, and a lump filled his throat.

  A slight frown crossed the Blademaster’s brow. “Why do you seek to keep me here when you know my time has come? Do not weep for my passing, Braxton, for I return to the spirit world. My journey here complete.”

  “Don’t leave me.” Braxton’s voice broke.

  “Death is but a doorway through which we all must pass. I go to see the one who walks with you, who put you in my charge. May she look fondly upon my deeds of late.”

  Braxton nodded, unable to speak. His throat was so dry, and his remaining resolve was failing rapidly. He tried to smile at Kael, but choked.

  “Open the Gate, Braxton. Help my people win this war.”

  “I will. I won’t fail you.”

  Kael smiled again. “Would you do one last task for me?”

  “Anything.”

  The Blademaster raised his left hand and weakly began untying the knot of the red ribbon of Balen-Tar from around his other arm. Braxton cried as he watched the elf undo the cloth.

  “Take this back to King Eilandoran. Tell him I have regained my honor.”

  “I will,” Braxton managed. “I promise.”

  The elven warrior seemed to draw comfort from Brax’s words. He took another ragged breath.

  “Thank you, Braxton Prinn. It was a privilege to have known you and an honor to have served you.”

  “The honor was mine, Kael.” But the elf had already closed his eyes.

  There was a calm, almost peaceful look on Kael’s face. Then the Blademaster was gone.

  Chapter 31

  Braxton sat crying next to his elven master’s body, closing himself off within his emotions, shutting out all other sounds and feelings except the long and endless pain he felt at losing the Blademaster.

  When he’d cried himself out, he took a deep breath, stood up, and looked down at the face of the elven warrior. “Goodbye, Kael Illyuntarie,” he said. “May you find peace.”

  He watched the elf. Then he closed his eyes and focused his mind, bringing up a barrier of spirit magic around his thoughts, shutting out all feelings and emotions. Delving deep inside himself, he summoned the energy.

  What are you doing, child?

  But he pushed Serene away, blocking her behind the barrier he’d created in his mind. He focused on gathering the energy, drawing it to him completely from every part of his existence, his very being, until he held a great sphere of spirit magic within him. He could feel his body reacting to what he’d done, pulling at the energy, calling to give back the strength necessary to maintain its life, requiring it, pleading for it. But he rejected its calls, cutting the tendrils in his mind that it sent looking for the life force it so desperately needed.

  When he was sure he’d pulled from every part of himself, from every corner of his body, until there was nothing left to give, he opened his ey
es. Walking over to the platform, he shot the spirit magic out through his heart center and into the Gate. The portal burst in a brilliant golden light that encircled the little shrine, forming the Walking Gate. It shone brightly in the fading sunlight, then began to flicker as the life force from which Braxton drew his strength diminished. He stepped closer, thrusting at it with all his might. Every ounce of his mind and body focused on maintaining the Gate, on that one single thought, drawing energy from his very frame, holding his breath. But the strength needed was more than he could give, and his body began to fail, weakening as its parts shut down. He held the connection for a few more moments, watching the golden light within the Gate dance upon the platform, then collapsed to the floor.

  He lay facedown on the hard, cold stone of the Dragon’s Head, convulsing in pain. His stomach threatened to retch, and he was shivering uncontrollably, but there was nothing left. He was totally spent, broken from inside. He could hear the sounds of a battle in the distance, but didn’t care; he knew it was over for him.

  “Brax!” Phinlera called out. There was fear in her voice. She dropped down and put her arm around him.

  He turned slowly, just enough to look into those eyes. Even now he admired her, the beauty of her face showing through the sweat on her brow and the small trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. She had a deep wound in her left shoulder, a cut above her eye, and her clothing was damp and torn from fighting.

  “Hold on, Brax, it’s going to be all right. Help is coming, just hold on.”

  But the pain was too much, more than his body was designed to endure. He knew he’d pushed too far, that he’d gone beyond his breaking point, beyond the bounds from which anyone could return. He’d been damaged from the inside as a result and knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

  Smiling weakly at Phin, he closed his eyes.

  “I love you, Phinlera,” he said quietly. “I love you.”

  Braxton didn’t know if she’d heard him as he began to drift, falling into a deep sleep, gradually letting go of his body. The bonds that held him to the earth broke free, their weight falling away, and he floated.

  * * *

  The rhythmic motion of a horse’s movements slowly crept into Brax’s senses, the softness of the animal’s muscular neck pressing against his face. He was hunched over, as if having fallen asleep while riding. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying a calmness he’d forgotten existed. His body felt light and whole again, the pain gone, and the energy of the spirit magic returned to its source. He breathed in the scent of jasmine mixed with a morning rain and opened his eyes. The blurry form of a green field passed beneath him, small white flowers interspersed among the grass, their centers bursting with purple. He watched them going by before noticing the glow from the horse he rode. It took him a moment to realize where he was. Then he sat up, recognizing that he was riding Serene.

  They were in an endless land of vibrant green, sprinkled liberally with the wildflowers, their white petals a vivid contrast to the rolling emerald sea. A clear, midmorning sky extended to the horizon, and the sun’s light was warm and uplifting.

  Good morning, child. The clear sound of Serene’s voice entered his mind.

  Brax closed his eyes and breathed deeply, giving himself over to the calming sensation that her companionship provided. Her movements quickened, and Braxton’s heart flushed. Reacting to his emotions, her pace increased, and he took another long breath. He sat up straighter, feeling the sun on his face and Serene’s spirit magic strengthening his body. She was galloping now, the rushing air breaking upon him like waves of life. Raising his arms to either side, he tilted his head toward the morning sun and drank in its radiance.

  When he opened his eyes again, she began to slow, coming to rest next to a small pond. Brax looked down into the tranquil blue waters.

  Sunlight sparkled across its surface, and a breeze created little waves of color that swirled in its midst. The pond calmed and his mom’s face appeared, bright and smiling. She was singing softly, cradling his infant form in her arms. She stopped and looked up, seeing him watching her for the first time.

  “Come back to us, Braxton. It’s all right. We’re here. Come back.”

  He shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the pain of losing her, waiting a while before looking again. His dad was in his workshop, hammering on their anvil, the sound ringing in his ears. He struck it several more times before stopping, becoming aware of something, and looked up at Braxton. Dark circles surrounded his eyes. His face was creased and his hair streaked with white. When he spoke, his voice was old and rough.

  “Don’t let go, Brax.”

  The scene changed again. Penton was there, then Bendarren, then groups of elves, and even Ruskin. Each one looked solemn and drawn, calling to him, asking him to return.

  “What is this place?” he asked. The images continued to change, showing those he’d once loved or lost.

  They are calling to you, wanting you to go back, asking that you not let go of them. Serene’s warmth washed over him, easing his pain as he watched the unfolding scenes.

  Some are with your body, the body of your human experience. Others are with the memories you left behind. You have a choice to make, my beloved child. Your actions at the Walking Gate demanded a great price from your body, and its light is fading. You must decide whether to go back and save it, or to let it go and stay here with me in the spirit world.

  Braxton closed his eyes.

  He lifted his face to the sky and bathed in the warm sun. Breathing in the scent of the wildflowers, he savored their intoxicating aroma, listening to the sounds of songbirds in the distance. He drank in the feeling of Serene’s energy, enjoying the wonderful exuberance of life that his joining with her provided.

  “How can I go back?” he said at last. “How can I return to that world and look in their faces, knowing that I failed them? That I wasn’t strong enough to control my emotions or open the Gate? That I couldn’t do what they asked?

  “It’s so beautiful here. The warmth of your presence, Serene, and the soothing beauty of the spirit world is beyond compare. Beyond anything that awaits me back home. I’ve done my part. I tried and failed. I cannot return. I don’t want to go back.”

  There is more there that awaits you than you know. Look again.

  Reluctantly, he looked into the waters, and his heart jumped. Phinlera was walking in the fields outside of Oak Haven on a summer’s day. She hummed to herself as she went, smiling at the thoughts he couldn’t see. His stomach turned with that same nervous excitement he always felt at seeing her, and smiled despite himself. Watching her flowing movements and graceful youthfulness, she jumped and skipped here and there, enjoying the sunny day, happy to be alive.

  Then she stopped and looked at him, and he could see that she’d been crying. Braxton wanted to shout, to jump off Serene and leap into those waters—to hold Phinlera close and tell her it would be all right. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He could only sit there and stare at the scene. He forced his eyes from hers and followed the outline of her face, admiring her smooth, soft skin. Her flowing black hair had been pulled to one side and hung down onto her chest. He remembered its scent. Placing a hand to her lips, Brax felt her brush against him, as though she’d somehow reached across the barrier between their worlds and touched his skin.

  “I love you, Braxton Prinn,” she said slowly. “I’ve always loved you.”

  He closed his eyes. The warmth of those words washed over him, uplifting him, and he listened to her voice echo in his ears.

  I love you, Braxton Prinn. I’ve always loved you.

  He replayed it over and over in his mind, drinking in the measure of what that meant to him, surrendering himself completely to it.

  If you stay here, you will never again hear those words, or smell her scent, or feel her touch, Serene interjected. You will only ever look upon her from afar, watch her conceive children with another, and grow old without you. But if you retu
rn, my child, you have a lifetime together.

  Braxton didn’t answer. He kept his eyes shut for what seemed like hours, repeating Phinlera’s words in his mind.

  “Then you think I should go back?” he said at last, looking down into the waters.

  That choice is yours alone to make, Braxton. I cannot tell you what to do. You must choose it freely for yourself.

  It was the first time Serene had ever used his name, and he held onto it like a blanket.

  “If I return, will you go with me?”

  For a time. While you carry my sword, we will always be connected.

  He took another long, slow breath and closed his eyes again. He sat there for a while understanding the choice before him. He knew the failure he’d have to endure if he returned.

  “Then I choose to go back,” he said. “To be with her.”

  Chapter 32

  Braxton Prinn floated through an ever-changing memory of time spent with Serene, and Phinlera and Kael, moving from one experience to the next in an endless array of images, thoughts, and sounds. Sometimes he participated in the events he saw, while in others, he just stood there watching, an invisible bystander to some elaborate play. Each felt like something he’d experienced once and yet different somehow, as if not quite the way he remembered it.

  Throughout the experiences, he heard the sound of elves singing nearby but never saw them. He was running, through a dark wood on an island that seemed stranded in an endless sea. Gnarled branches tangled with thick, thorny vines ripped at his clothing. Something was chasing him, something dark and evil that he couldn’t see. The elves’ song changed to spoken words and became louder as he ran. He was searching for them, he realized, for some memory of the light he once knew existed but now could no longer find. The evil was so close. His mind screamed for him to get away. Where were the elves? Something cold touched his arm, and he pulled away, yelling.