The pack contained two small, tightly lidded pots, one with honey and another with butter, as well as a loaf of bread. There was also a package of cold roast beef, apples, three different cheeses, roast chicken, and three cabbage and goat meat stuffed pitas. Taela stared at the spread of food. “Is this the only bag like this?”
With a wry shake of his head, Kellinar said, “There are two more bags like this one and five full of traveling cakes.”
“How many people did she think we would be feeding for Fates’ sake?”
He shrugged. “She knew it would just be us. It’s just Marda being Marda. Might as well not let it go to waste. Who knows how long this mist will hide the shadow-blasted scenery? We might not feel like eating this way tomorrow. Or whenever it will be when we awake.”
They ate as much of the meal as they could before rewrapping it and returning it to the pack. Afterward, they pulled their sleeping rolls down and settled into them. The constant diffused light and the total absence of the normal nighttime sounds made sleep long in coming. Kellinar shifted several times as if a new position would somehow ease the discomfort that had nothing to do with the strange, spongy-feeling ground.
When they awoke, he had no idea how long they’d slept or if it was night or day in the real world. They ate the remainder of food in the first pack in silence before finally climbing on their dragons to continue their journey to who really knew where.
Two more days passed in the same fashion. Were they really full days or did they just seem that way? The scenery visible through the mist grew progressively slower until it ceased altogether. Even the whispers stopped. Silence reigned so thorough Kellinar could hear his own heart beating. Even the dragons’ clawed feet made no sound against the spongy grass, the sparse thick tufts now a dense, green mat.
On the third “day,” the mist became so thick Kellinar could no longer see the silver thread on the ground. He glanced ahead, an anxious knot in his stomach. Although only a few steps ahead of Shryden, the mist swallowed Paki and Taela.
Kellinar reached out to Paki. “Can Taela still see the line?”
“She doesn’t need to see it. The thread of silver is her magic, she is connected to it,” Paki sent back.
Relief filled him. The last thing they needed was to get lost in this place. “Shryden, can you still see Paki?”
“No, but have no worry. I can still sense her. We won’t lose them.”
Another concern lessened. As much as he looked forward to seeing Anevay again, Kellinar couldn’t wait until they got out of Maiadar.
The mist or fog—whatever it was—continued to close in until Kellinar could no longer see his hand in front of his face. The silence deepened, pressing against his ears. With nothing to see, time and distance took on even less meaning than it had before. Only endless mist that left no moisture on the skin filled the world around them.
Desperate for something to do besides stare at the thick whiteness, Kellinar reached out with his magic. Were there any air currents at all here? After a long search, he felt something but not the same. Instead, it was more like a distant echo of the memory of air currents. After some time, he gave up finding anything tangible to work with and let his magic go. There was nothing to do but endure.
And then, from one step to the next, the mist was gone. Though it still hung around the edges of their line of sight, Maiadar opened up before them in a series of hills covered in new spring grass. Not a single flower, bush, or tree disturbed the uniform greenness. Directly ahead stood a gate glowing faint silver.
Arranged around the gate were eight people. Two of them, a man and a woman, had wizened faces and white hair that hung to their ankles, though their shoulders and backs remained unbent by the passage of time. The other six, three men and three women, appeared ageless, all with hair to their waists.
A man with black hair and eyes, with an air of reverence about him, pulled strands from a massive fabric comprised of glowing threads in more colors than imaginable. He worked steadily, yet carefully. Some of the threads he pulled were no longer than the space between finger-joints, others were much longer. No matter the length, once he pulled them to the edge of the tapestry, he sliced them with a silver blade.
On the other side of the tapestry, working a never-ending loom, a woman with blonde hair wove more threads into it.
The old couple stood before the gate. On either side were two gleaming pools watched over by male and female pairs. A man with blond hair and his red-haired partner watched one pool, while a man with brown hair and a woman with black watched over the other.
In eerie silence, they went about their work. Only the older pair, their hands folded in front of their flowing white robes, took notice of the two people on dragon back.
At their approach, Kellinar and Taela slid from their saddles to stand on the velvet soft grass. The older couple stopped a few paces from them and inclined their heads. The woman, her pale eyes kind, smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. “We’ve been expecting you.”
Her voice was like the chime of sweet bells on a warm summer’s day. Kellinar ran his eyes over the group of people. The younger six never took their eyes off their tasks, not even a flicker of an eye acknowledged the presence of strangers.
“You are not strangers to us,” the blonde woman said without looking away from the threads she wove into the tapestry.
“You have always been known to us and will always be known to us,” the brown-haired man said.
“And who are you?” Kellinar asked, his own voice sounding rough and rusty in contrast to theirs.
The old man spoke for the first time. “We are the Fates, child.”
Kellinar gaped at them. The Fates? They were real? But they were a legend. Of course, Maiadar was supposed to be a legend as well and here they were traveling through it meeting up with a group calling themselves the Fates.
Taela stared at them in wide-eyed wonder. “So the Fates are people?”
The old woman spoke again, “Hardly, my child. We are of all worlds and of none. We appear in the most acceptable form to your eyes. I am Serendipity.” She extended her hand toward the old man. “This is Consequence. And these,” she indicated the six younger people, “are our children.” She pointed to the blond man and red-haired woman standing watch over one pool. “Chance and Choice.” She motioned toward the black-haired woman and brown-haired man standing watch over the other pool. “Providence and Impetuous.” She waved toward the blonde woman and black-haired man by the loom. “And Existence and Demise.”
“Each of us watches over the worlds to the best of our ability,” Consequence said.
Kellinar stared at the massive tapestry as Existence wove in bright, new threads, and Demise snipped the dim threads off the other side. He swallowed hard, afraid to ask the question forming in his mind but unable to refrain. “What are those threads made of?”
Serendipity looked at the tapestry, a mix of joy and sorrow on her face. “They are lives. Each new glowing thread represents a birth somewhere. Each dimming thread that is snipped represents a death.”
Anevay’s thread had once been woven into that not so long ago. Demise had held Anevay’s dimming thread in his hands and sliced through it with the silver-bladed knife. Kellinar couldn’t help glaring at the man. “How can you so calmly cut those threads, knowing the devastation it will bring to the living?”
Without looking up from his constant work, Demise answered calmly, “All life must end so there is room for new threads. I do not make the decision on who lives and who dies. I merely remove the threads that grow dim, which signifies the ending of a life. I do not even know why the life has ended. Some threads end after a long lifetime, others end before they have barely been woven.”
Kellinar’s eyes traveled over the others gathered around their pools. Serendipity laid a warm hand on his arm. “Allow me to explain, so perhaps you can find some peace.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He tried to shrug her off, but her hand r
emained firmly on his arm.
“No, child, you are not.” Guiding him over to the tapestry, she pointed at one of the thin threads. It glowed dark purple. “This is your thread. You are still in mourning, the color blue. And you carry a measure of guilt and anger within your heart, dark red. Hence the color of your thread.”
Turning him toward the pools and their watchers, she said, “These four watch over the pools of life, in your world and all other worlds simultaneously. Choice and Chance offer exactly what their names imply. Chance offers situations for every soul living in a corporeal form. Choice allows them to think through the possibilities and paths offered by Chance. Which way the soul goes is purely up to the soul itself.”
Leading him to the next pool, she gestured at the remaining two people. “Providence offers wisdom and prudence so that souls may find the best way. Impetuous offers freedom and spontaneity to the souls so that life is ever-changing and full of color for them.”
Serendipity turned to face him, her eyes soft, and her expression kind. “We do not choose to end a life. We offer many paths and free will to the souls so that they may find their own way. Choice, my eldest daughter, has the most difficult work. For every choice that is made there are consequences involved, both good and bad. There is a balance. There must always be a balance. Choice is able to see what the consequences will be for each choice she lays out, yet she is powerless to steer the soul away from paths that will lead to the knife of Demise.” She smiled gently. “Your Anevay was given many choices. She was offered wisdom and prudence in her decision. Her path was hers alone.”
Choice, her long red hair hanging over her shoulder, didn’t raise her eyes when she spoke. “My sister, Existence, has told me you struggle with the way events revealed themselves at the place called Trilene. I would like to ease your conscience. I laid many paths for you to choose from. All but the one you chose led to darkness and despair such as you have never known.”
Kellinar shoved down the emotions welling up in him. Now wasn’t the time. They were here for a reason, and he didn’t want to talk about this right now. “Will you let us pass to find Anevay?”
Serendipity turned to those watching the pools. For several long moments they studied the shinning water. Finally, Choice answered, “It is highly unusual to allow the living to cross through here. Along the edge in the place of waiting is one thing, this goes well beyond that. However, it is the only way. If we turn them away, the balance will truly be tipped and darkness will claim their world. The last time the balance was tipped in this manner, we lost a world completely.”
Consequence picked up where she left off, “The inhabitants that still remained within the balance were forced to flee to other worlds in hope of finding peace.” His pale eyes studied Paki and Shryden. “That is how you have dragons, Nagas, and Nagi in your world.”
He turned and flowed to the gate, the ends of his white hair drifting around his ankles. With a deep sigh, he placed a hand against them. The silver glow surrounding the intricate iron bars brightened as they opened. “Perhaps this time, we can prevent the loss of all. However, be aware, not even we know the endings until they happen. Even with this, the balance will not be made right.”
Taela whispered, “Thank you.” And then passed silently through.
Kellinar glanced again at the Fates. They continued their unceasing work with the movements of those who never hungered and never tired. With a quiet sigh, he passed through with Shryden on his heels.
The land on the other side rolled on in gentle green hills. These were dotted with flowers and the occasional tree. Thankfully, the trees and flowers all stayed put. None of the unstableness that afflicted the edge of Maiadar was present.
“Where do we go from here?” Kellinar asked, looking over at Taela.
Serendipity appeared at his side. “Her strand does not flow through here. I will lead the way.” She pointed at the smooth path that led along the base of the low hill, following the natural curves. “Follow me, it will not be long.”
As they walked, bird song greeted their ears. A pack of wolves and a herd of deer lay within two paces of each other atop one low, gently curving hill. Serendipity followed Kellinar’s gaze to the gathering. “There is neither strife nor privation here. No need to hunt, no need to flee the predator. Peace is all that you will find when you pass through the Gate of Maiadar.”
The ambient light was brighter here and while there was no breeze to speak of the air felt fresh. It was neither hot nor cold, humid nor dry. They rounded another hill where a large cougar lounged on the soft grass as several rabbits hopped around it.
Kellinar glanced at the old woman as she strode just ahead of them with sure steps and the gait of one much younger than her appearance. Her pure white hair hung down the back of her robes until it nearly touched the ground.
“What did you mean when you said the edge of Maiadar is the place of waiting?” Taela asked.
“When souls have darkness in them, they must first find their own peace before they can pass through the gate. Along the edge where the whispering souls reside is the place of their waiting. When they find peace from what stains their soul with darkness, they are called to the gate and given entrance.” She sighed. “Not all will find peace and will remain forever in waiting. It is their own choosing. For those that are given entrance, they will spend time recouping their soul’s energy and reuniting with those left behind. After a period of time, their souls will be rewoven into the tapestry as another lifetime.”
“How long does a soul remain here before it’s rewoven?” Kellinar asked, his eyes on a multitude of flowering trees that covered one hillside.
“Many mortal lifetimes will come and go before a soul is rewoven.”
They rounded another hill and came upon a meadow ringed with every tree Kellinar had ever seen and many that he hadn’t. Serendipity smiled. “And we are here. I will wait and give you some time. You do not have long, so do not tarry. The living cannot remain long in Maiadar without damage to their mortal selves. I will come for you when it is time to leave.”
Kellinar looked from her to the empty meadow. She gestured, encouraging them forward. They left her behind at the edge and walked farther into the tree-ringed space. When they reached the middle, a movement in the trees at the far side stopped them.
Anevay, in long white robes, entered the meadow and walked toward them. Kellinar watched her, his heart swelling and breaking at the same time. Anevay’s form wavered and swam, then the tears in his eyes fell. Taela took a shuddering breath that verged on a sob.
When Anevay came to a stop in front of them, her face revealed no pain; only utter serenity. Her dark eyes shone with the light of her soul. Kellinar stood rooted to the ground as every moment of their life together flashed through his mind, ending in that tragic moment when she passed beyond his touch.
And then she held out her arms. He was only a step behind Taela in clutching his lost bondmate to him. He sensed the threads that had woven them together in life reconnect and fill the void death had created.
Shryden and Paki rumbled a greeting. Kellinar looked over Anevay’s shoulder to see Latia enter the meadow, her scales vibrant yellow. The six of them crowded around each other trying to take as much in as possible.
Finally, Anevay and Latia stepped back. Taela wiped her face and took several deep breaths. Kellinar sensed her struggle to bring her emotions under control. He wasn’t having much success himself. Here, they were all connected again. How could he bring himself to walk away from Anevay and Latia?
Taela scrubbed her hands across her cheeks one more time. “It’s beyond wonderful to see you again. I never thought…something like this would happen.”
“It is good to see you four as well. I have…” A slight frown marred the serenity on her face. “...Missed you.”
Kellinar glanced back at Serendipity. The old woman stood with her hands folded inside the wide sleeves of her robes. “She said we don’t have much time.”
He turned his attention back to Anevay. “Maleena sent us for the rest of the weave you were working on.”
Confusion filled Anevay’s eyes. “I never finished it. I don’t have the rest of it. I have no magic here; there is no need of it. How can I finish it if I have no magic?”
Kellinar’s heart sank. “Then all of this was in vain and all is lost anyway.”
“Is there nothing you can do?” Taela asked, desperation in her voice.
Anevay stared at the ground for a time, her brow creased in concentration. “There is…a possibility. I cannot guarantee it will work, but I can think of nothing else.” She raised her eyes to Taela. “I can try and transfer it through the bond. We are connected here, and your magic still works. Take my hands. I will go over how I planned to finish it several times for you. You will have to ‘see’ it in my mind and memorize it. This will show you what it’s meant to do, how to make it, and how it should look when finished.”
Taela immediately took her bondsister’s hands. Both closed their eyes. For several long minutes, they stood like that. How much time passed in this timeless place, Kellinar didn’t know. However, Serendipity was edging closer. It was nearing its end.
Finally his bondmates broke apart and Taela gasped, staring wide-eyed at Anevay. “That will…that will…do you realize what that weave will do?”
“Yes.” Anevay nodded, the peace returning to her face. “I’m well aware. It’s the only way. You will have to give that weave to Maleena. She is the only one I can think of who is strong enough to wield that much energy.”
“But that’s just it.” Taela shook her head. “She isn’t strong enough. No one is. Not even the two of us linked together would be. There would have to be someone as strong as she linked with her. Maleena has been to the lake. She’s ran through every possible future it had to offer. I had hoped your weave would offer something different.”
“A choice will have to be made,” Serendipity said, standing next to them.
“A choice?” Kellinar looked at Anevay then the old woman. “What are you talking about?”
Ashes And Spirit (Book 3) Page 11