by Geno Allen
“It is no gift,” Griss said solemnly. “And I would that he had not returned it to me. It was entrusted to the Ruugaks my first year in Darlandis. Raim Sabbar bade me do so, thus removing the weight of its burden from me. But Seri-Garkan says I may have need of it soon. That may be hopeful... but I will speak of it no further now. It is not time for such things.”
His speech is a riddle... but it’s obvious the gift burdens him. Zam chose to leave Griss his mystery and lead the conversation elsewhere for the time being. “They are called Ruugaks then…? Those creatures?”
Griss nodded. “Many call them Windsong Giants, but Ruugak is what they call themselves.”
That reminded Zam. “Why would he not allow me to call him Seri-Nandel when that is what he called himself?”
The question brought almost a smirk to Griss’ face and seemed to lighten his mood. He half chuckled as he began. “I... do not know. Raim Sabbar once told me that Seri, in their tongue, may be a reference to mortality. Even Raim Sabbar could only speculate. Perhaps they do not like other beings reminding them their lives may one day end.” he chuckled again. “I have yet to learn the reason myself.”
They pressed on and numerous times the path forked and Griss chose which direction they would turn. Zam trusted his judgment. The day wore on. As sunset approached, they had traveled a great distance and reached what they hoped was an opening to the other side. Zam ran ahead, and where he expected to see open lands, he instead saw an enclosed field. It was large enough for a small contingent of soldiers to make camp, empty and flat, but still surrounded by the Lost Hills.
Here they actually looked like hills, gently sloping with soft green grasses growing upon them. Most, however, rose to tremendous height. Both travelers were glad for the open space and the beauty of the clearing after the dull gray of the craggy paths, but they were still trapped.
Griss decided they should make camp for the night. They ate in relative silence and prepared to rest. Griss would stay up longer after dark and watch for any dangers, but there had been no sign of any creatures within these hills, save Zam and Griss.
The night passed without event and both rose with the sun to seek the day’s path. The morning was unusually overcast for this time of year, and Zam did not like it.
They searched about for an hour or so without discovering any path. There were points at which it seemed they could have made their way over one of the hills, but once they had climbed a short way, there would be a rumbling and a shifting and the once-gentle slope proved impassable.
Zam was beginning to lose heart, but there was more afoot than he was aware. If they could have seen with truer eyes, they would have known a dark presence hovered over one of the hills. Could they perceive its thoughts, they would have known it feared the boy at which it gazed—rare for a Seritheen with regard to a human, especially one so seemingly insignificant as Zam—but the Seritheen's master feared the boy, and the beast had tracked him a long time to no avail. The dark one's fear grew, but it did not know why. One with greater vision yet could have seen and understood. These travelers were, in fact, not alone.
The earth began to rumble again, more fiercely than any time before. Zam and Griss ran to the center of the clearing to avoid the large rocks and occasional boulders tumbling down. The Seritheen sensed that a good path would be opened to them, that the hills would not bring them harm, so it worked a bit of rumbling of its own.
The earth shook longer still and the pass they had entered through closed, but this time two new paths opened. Like a breach between the sloping hills, a canyon opened east, delving deep below ground level. To the south a new way opened as well. It was level with the ground and looked out on a simple path toward the river. The travelers would have to make a decision.
Griss looked the paths over from where he stood. For reasons he could not discern he was unable to venture toward either path. Something was amiss. He sat down and spoke these words, “A way goes deep, a way goes shallow; on one there’s life, the other the gallows.” He paused. “Or so the king’s blacksmith in Artolis used to say.” He sighed, feeling foolish.
“I have found my way in many dangerous places, Zam, but I know not which way here. The river—I am sure—is still far below us. That path may lead to its edge, but the climb down will still be perilous. And that dark opening before us does not sit well with me either. I cannot decide a way. Were the hills to begin moving again with us lost in those depths, we may be crushed, or lost forever in abysmal darkness. I am sorry. I can be of no aid in this. I will await your decision.”
The weight of responsibility struck Zam. If Griss is overwhelmed by the decision, how can I decide? Galwen's words returned to him again. “Sometimes, the best course of action may seem, on the surface, the most foolish... but you must know.” I wish you were here, Galwen.
He walked to the edge of the clearing and stood where the new path opened out toward the river. Picking up a small stone, he turned it over and over in his hands and gazed at the path before him, then over his shoulder at the delving breach. “A way goes deep, another shallow; at one there’s life, the other the gallows.” He’d heard the saying before. From somewhere in his past another phrase crept its way slowly through his mind to his lips. “But sorrows come no matter the path; let not fear lead the way. Seek truth and stay the course, no matter how drear the day. No matter how dark, no matter how deep, you will not lose your way.” He looked over at Griss. “That’s the rest of the saying, although I think it may be a song.”
“I believe it is.”
“I don't know how I know it, but I have heard it. I’m certain.” He paused in deep thought. “Stay the course....”
Griss stood, resolve falling over him. “No matter how drear the day.” Zam nodded and Griss continued. “I’d forgotten that part. You've chosen the way then?”
Zam thought about it a moment more and looked to the delving breach.
“I have. The river path leads south, and I was told to go north. It seems to me that east is closer to north than south is.” He tossed the stone down the path toward the river. With a snap, a rumbling began as it tumbled. The rumbling lasted a moment only and the rocks of the river path closed with such speed and force that a rush of wind struck Zam, nearly knocking him over. The stone he had thrown was gone, crushed between the walls of rock.
A whining cry could have been heard on the wind were one truly listening, but neither adventurer heard it. Instead they both marveled at the trap that had been laid before them. Both wondered also whether the delving breach might lead to a similar end.
Zam shook off that concern. “Let not fear lead the way.” He turned, walked toward the delving breach, and entered. There was no snap, no rumbling, just cold shadow and chill air. Griss followed.
The dark presence moved from the hilltop toward them with great speed. Neither was aware of its approach. It sped toward them with death in mind, but stopped cold at the breach and wailed. Could they perceive its thoughts they would have known the tremendous fear the dark being felt. It could not enter the pass. Something would not suffer the creature’s entry, and for reasons beyond its understanding the boy was out of its reach, for now.
Zam halted a moment and listened. “Did you hear that?”
Griss looked about and listened. “I hear nothing but the breeze.”
“It was like a far off cry… in fear… or anger.”
“I have only heard the wind, Zam. Don’t let the darkness of the path play tricks on your mind.”
He listened again, but heard nothing. “Don't worry. I won’t.”
They set their minds to the path ahead. It reminded them of the pass they had taken from Rendift to Vendill. Every wall looked the same as another, but here there was little light, which left the way not easily discernible. Many times they came to what seemed an end, but feeling along the walls they would find an opening their eyes had not perceived. Around noon there was a break in the clouds, which filtered in light from above, and they
walked the pass more easily. The walls of this path stretched hundreds of feet above them. It was a dizzying, fearful, and awe-inspiring thing to behold.
With the light as their companion for a time, they made faster progress, but the clouds began to fold in again and the pass was once more shrouded in deep shadow. Only a short while later, to their delight, they found the end of the deep pass.
Once they left the delving breach behind they found themselves in another clearing, surrounded by more hills. Here they found also a structure of hewn stones, intricately crafted. Many images were carved along its eaves and walls. A large door opened east, if one could open it, and runes were carved at intervals around the entire structure.
The place was long-since abandoned, but a weathered flag still flew. Time had worn all color from the cloth, but the material held firm even still. When the sunlight hit it just so, Zam could see gold thread woven through the flag, forming two Fierisen leafs bound by a chain. Suddenly it dawned on him. “This place belonged to one of the kings of old, Rivelin or his predecessors. See the flag there?”
Griss nodded. He had not anticipated finding any structures amidst this forsaken land.
Zam continued. “That symbol is the chain that binds my cloak... Rivelin’s chain.”
Griss looked over the structure. It was not fortified and thus could not be a military outpost. It was the right size, but too grand to have been a home. And the carvings upon it were wrong for a tomb. He could only make out a few of the words at first. One phrase in particular leapt out at him: “Place for Our Scrolls.” He said then corrected himself. “No... Place of Scrolls, if I read it rightly.” He mused on that. “This is too grand for a library… and I would say the location is most unfortunate.”
Zam's interest was piqued. He made his way to the door and attempted to open it. It was almost twice his height and shut fast. “Griss, help me here. I want to see inside. We're probably the first men to discover this place in a thousand years.”
Griss approached, trying his best to discern the meaning of the figures and runes that lent the place its mystery. “If we are the first in so long a time, there may be a reason for that. I would like to study the writings here before we wantonly decide to open so mysterious a structure.” He traced the words on the stone door. “It will require a key. My strength is not great enough to open a door as skillfully crafted as this.”
He set to deciphering what runes he could, and Zam continued to prod the door, looking for anything that would tell him how to open it. Amidst the symbols he found a carving like that of the chain Bondur had given him to wear upon his cloak. He ran his fingers across the image and dust fell out from between the carved edges. Beneath the dust was gold. The leaves themselves appeared to be separate from the rest of the stone door.
Zam thought of the many stories he’d listened to Barea tell Laise, Tannis, and the others during his time in Rivertowne. Often the tales held secret places with mysterious treasures, grave dangers, or both; places that could be opened only by the one for whom they were intended. And Zam, humble shepherd turned adventurer, wearing the chain of an ancient king—the very symbol engraved upon the ancient door—had found this place. Perhaps I am intended to open this door.
Griss was slowly working his way around the structure examining every marking.
Zam unclasped the chain from his cloak and held the leaves up to the engraving. They were identical in size. He pressed the leaves into the door's carved counterparts and was rewarded with a stony clink! as if something inside the door had given way. The soft sound of air escaping from somewhere met his ears. The golden leaves began to turn by themselves and became locked fast into the door. Zam was suddenly afraid the chain would not come free, so he gave a sharp tug, attempting to dislodge it.
To his surprise the door swung easily open. Griss was still around the far side of the structure, intrigued and unaware the door had been opened. The air that greeted Zam was stale. It was dark inside. Forgetting his chain for the moment, he stepped into the ancient room as if drawn to do so. He could see little at first, perhaps what looked like a bookshelf... and then he saw less. The door swung shut with another hollow sounding clink and Zam stood in pitch black.
He turned to the door and pressed hard against it. It did not move. Air was making its way around the door, but no light. Slowly a soft sliding sound drew Zam's attention. Fear leapt into his mind and heart.
“Are there snakes in here?” He asked himself, blinking again and again, hoping his eyes would adjust to the dark, but there was no light in this place. If there were snakes, they would be on him in an instant.
Unable to see and not knowing a safe direction he stood awaiting the horrible pain that would likely come. A moment passed, and no snakes. The sliding sound continued. Zam took a less fear-driven approach. If this place has been sealed with no air passing through for a thousand years, how could any snakes survive? It’s a foolish fear, Zam. He recalled the air escaping when he unlocked the door and suddenly realized the air he first felt coming in around the door was gone. Just then the sliding sound stopped with a lighter clink.
His fear of the snakes dissipated, leaving instead a fear of being trapped in this dark place without air, if indeed that sliding sound was the room being sealed off as he supposed. “Elyon,” he said. “I cannot remain trapped here and also accomplish my quest.” He leaned against the door, pushing. It did not budge, and there truly was no wisp of air entering. Zam slid to the ground in frustration, waiting in the dark. “Please, Griss, find the chain and open the door.”
“It cannot now be opened from the outside.” A voice said from somewhere in the dark. A soft light slowly began to illuminate the room. “You are doing well, Zam, but perhaps a bit more caution would be in order.” There, where the light began, stood a warrior clad in similar garb to Graffeon, though seemingly younger. He turned and lit a lantern, adding more light to the room.
“You’re an Argolen!” Zam said.
“I am. My name is Angeon. You have grown up fine, Zam.” There was a fondness in the Argolen’s voice, a familiarity. “You were a babe when last we met, though others of my kind have watched over you at need.”
“We've met?”
“Indeed we have, under grave circumstances. You may know that when you were a babe your family was killed. You also would have been killed, but Elyon bade me rescue you and place you with the farmer, who should have raised you as a son. That you have never hated him or his wife for denying you a father and mother is a sign of greatness. So, as I said, you are doing well, Zam. But this is not why we are here.”
Zam merely stood there, stunned at what the Argolen said. Angeon's voice grew more serious. “Time is short, and I must be on my way. You, however, must continue east for a time. That road will lead you farther afield than your current path, and for that reason you must make haste. Sleep within these walls tonight and upon the morrow head east. The hills will accommodate you. At times you will feel as though you are traveling the wrong way, but trust that you are not. When you reach the river, do not cross. There is danger there. Await one called Fraegrel. He will aid you in reaching the Great Bridge. Though, you will face another test before your paths will cross.”
“The test Raim Sabbar spoke of?”
Angeon crossed the room to Zam. “Aye, Zam.”
“But what is–”
Angeon smiled. “There is no time. Inform Griss he is to take with him one scroll from this place, and one only. If all goes well, you will come to this place again one day, as will he. Now, Zam, trust not to your strength or skill, nor only to the wisdom that has been given you, but trust that you are on a quest set by Elyon, and whether strong or weak, you will succeed only in following his lead.”
The words burned into Zam’s heart and mind. “I will do my best.”
“I believe you will, Zam.” Angeon smiled again, causing strength to course through Zam. “Now I must be off. Though few Seritheen inhabit these hills, one has made a goal of
stopping you. You heard his cry in the delving breach when he was not allowed to enter after you.”
“That’s what I heard?” Zam asked amazed. “Griss couldn’t hear it.”
“Not all can. Keep your ears open to such things and you will hear. Griss sees to the heart of things, that is his gift. You will see much as well, in time, but for now listen, and do not forget the book Graffeon gave you.” Angeon turned suddenly as if hearing some danger. “I must see to the Seritheen that stalks you, and any others he may have gathered. They must fail in their desire, and so I leave you. Always remember, Zam, Elyon will decide.” Angeon walked toward the wall and began to pass through.
Zam called after him, “Wait! How will I get out of here?”
“Through the door.” was the reply, as the Argolen smiled and disappeared. Zam turned and saw in the now well-lit room that a simple bolt held the door shut from the inside. A lever above opened and closed a vent that either kept out or let in air. He looked about. Every wall had shelves floor to ceiling, filled with scrolls and books. Zam pulled at the bolt on the door and it opened easily.
Evening was pressing on and the last sliver of sun was working its way toward the horizon. Zam reached for his chain, and gave it a tug with the door open. The leaves turned and slipped from the door. He clasped the chain to his cloak again and marveled at this most recent encounter.
Just then, Griss made his way back to the door side of the structure. His eyes grew wide. “You’ve gotten it open! How did you...? Never mind. Tell me later. Do you know what this place is?”
Zam answered. “I believe it is a library from ancient times.”
“In a way you are correct, but it is even more–” Just then Zam heard a war cry in the distance, followed by a fearful and fearsome scream. The scream was moving toward them at great speed.