Incarnation: Wandering Stars Volume One

by Jason Tesar

  The wind rushed by Sariel’s face and blades of grass whipped by only feet below him. His great wings propelled him forward, requiring just the occasional downward thrust to maintain his speed. With both hands he gripped the primitive spears he’d taken from the Chatsiyr village; their fragile weight balanced in his palms, adjusted for wind resistance.

  Rising slowly over a low mound, he banked slightly to the west and rounded a stand of trees to obscure the sight of his approach. Under different circumstances he would have enjoyed feeling the air move across his wings; the graceful way his body cut through the air above the fields of grass; the way his wings expertly flexed to maintain lift as he banked. But he was not flying for pleasure. It was revenge that fueled him now. A desperate need to bring a violent and swift end to anyone who would dare harm Sheyir.

  The stand of trees slid to the right and out of his vision leaving an empty field with a crude circular fence at its center. The two hundred foot diameter was only sufficient to enclose fear-stricken human women, but its height failed to shield the upper body of the single Anduar sentinel standing guard in the middle. Sariel straightened his heading and dropped lower until the blades of grass struck his chest and arms. He covered the expanse of open field in just a few seconds, unseen. At the last possible moment, he adjusted his elevation to glide just over the rim of the fence. In the blink of an eye, the Anduar guard was visible and Sariel thrust the stone-tipped, wooden spears downward. The impact ripped the weapons from his hands and he had to tilt his wings to keep from being pulled down. Just as he passed over the opposite rim of the fence, he started to bank to the left and glanced backward to see the Anduar fall.

  Completing his turn, he now approached from the north and could see that Tamael and the others, still in their animal forms, had torn down the south end of the enclosure. The human captors ran in fear from the broken structure and into the fields, leaving their captives.

  Sariel slowed his speed and dropped his elevation until he came to a gentle landing in the grass on the south side of the prison. Though he wanted to take the lives of the human men running in retreat, he restrained himself.

  They’re only acting out of fear of Semjaza!

  “I’ve never seen an Iryllur kill an Anduar before,” Tamael said, now wearing his angelic form.

  Sariel walked passed Tamael and into the prison without a word.

  Scanning the groups of women tied to the perimeter of the wall he could tell in seconds that Sheyir wasn’t among them. With a sigh, he stooped to the nearest woman and began to untie the rope around her neck.

  She flinched; her eyes wide with horror.

  Sariel let go of the rope and put his hands up. “I’m not here to hurt you. You’re safe now.”

  Tamael, Jomjael, and Batarel followed his lead, walking around the prison and untying the women.

  As Sariel moved from woman to woman, he asked, “Do you know Sheyir?” He only received blank stares, but he kept working, freeing the women and repeating his question in as many human languages as he knew.

  When all were freed, Sariel walked to the center and looked down at the dead soldier. He lay on his side with his legs splayed. One spear had gone through the middle of his chest, while the other hit higher toward his neck. His blood darkened the earth and grass beneath him. It was the first time that Sariel had ever killed someone other than a demon.

  “You were looking for someone in particular?” Tamael asked quietly as the others joined him.

  Sariel nodded without looking up.

  “And she’s not here,” Batarel stated.

  They stood in silence for a moment as Sariel considered what to do next.

  “Semjaza?” a quiet voice asked from behind.

  Sariel turned around quickly. “What?” he replied in the Chatsiyr language, only now realizing that none of the women had left the enclosure. They remained huddled around the perimeter of the wall. Most were standing while a few were still sitting on the ground.

  “Semjaza,” a woman repeated.

  Sariel now saw who spoke and recognized her from his time at Bahyith, though she probably didn’t recognize him in his angelic form.

  “A dark one came. He had wings like you,” she said, pointing. “He took Sheyir and said Semjaza will want her for himself.”

  At once, hope and rage collided in his heart. Sariel closed his eyes and clenched his fists until he composed himself. “Thank you,” he finally said to the woman, then turned back to the Myndarym.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Tamael said quickly. “And it’s not possible.”

  “Why?” Sariel probed.

  “Because he has an army and a fortress. And you’ll never get to her. You don’t understand how dangerous he is.”

  Sariel remained silent and let the words hang in the air for a moment. There were so many responses running through his mind. But only one that would bring him closer to the one he loved. “Then take me there and make me understand.”

  “He’ll kill us before we get within miles of the place,” Tamael countered.

  Sariel nodded slowly, and could feel the skin on his forehead tighten. “Does he ever leave the safety of his fortress?”

  Tamael paused for a moment. “Yes. I guess he does. For years, he used to roam throughout the land, hunting as the Kahyin do. But he tired quickly of that. There are not many things on this earth to serve as a worthy opponent for him. Now, the only time he leaves is to Khelrusa, the capital city of the Kahyin. He likes to personally check the progress at the mines and to maintain his god-like status among the humans.”

  “How often?” Sariel asked.

  “Since we left? Monthly. But he is always accompanied by his personal guard—two Iryllurym and two Anduarym.”

  “I can handle them,” Sariel replied with confidence.

  “I doubt it,” Batarel said in a low voice.

  Sariel noticed that the women still hadn’t left the enclosure. “You’re all free to go.”

  “We have nowhere. Our villages are destroyed. Our men are dead,” the Chatsiyr woman responded quietly.

  Now Sariel finally understood the expressions on the faces looking at him. He had been blinded by his own emotions. But now he understood why they weren’t leaving.

  “We could take them back to our city,” Jomjael offered. “They would be safe there.”

  Sariel slowly nodded in agreement as he plotted his next move. “Yes. You should do that.” Then he turned to Tamael and Batarel. “And we should go to Khelrusa.”

  “Alright,” Tamael agreed. “We’ll take you there. But I can’t promise you anything.”

  Sariel turned and walked closer to where the women were gathered, then knelt. “If you are willing, Jomjael will take you to a city. It is a far journey, but you will be safe there.” He repeated this phrase in different languages until he saw recognition on every face.

  “Thank you, O Excellent One,” one of the women replied.

  “Call me Sariel,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “I knew it was you,” said the Chatsiyr woman. “I could tell by your eyes.”

  Sariel just smiled. “Go with him,” he said, tilting his head toward Jomjael. “And do whatever he asks of you.”

  Then he stood and turned to Tamael and Batarel. “Take me to Semjaza.”

  CHAPTER 19

  KHELRUSA

  The home of the Kahyin people was a sprawling city that couldn’t have been called a village, even in the first years of its founding. What had once appeared as an ambitious project of human construction now bore signs of angelic influence. Intermingled with elaborate wooden structures, built from timber harvested from the towering forests nearby, works of stone were also beginning to appear. Situated between two intersecting ridges of the mountain of Murakszhug, the capital city of the Kahyin was protected by the landscape on three sides. To the northwest, the land sloped downward toward the Great Waters and a massive wall of timbers spanned the widening vale. One either si
de of the road that passed through the wall, pillars of stone had been erected to form an entrance. Spreading outward from there, it looked as though the timber was being steadily replaced by the quarried material that was sturdier, and required greater skill to craft.

  Sariel was perched in the shadow of a cleft, high on the mountain above the city. In their own tongue, the Kahyin called it Mountain of Watching. Sariel smiled at the coincidence, for though it was the place where their gods had first appeared, coming down from their heavenly place of observance, it had now become the vantage point for Sariel’s reconnaissance. And so far, it seemed that the gods had become accustomed to looking down on humans. They never thought to look up.

  “Seven of each,” Batarel growled.

  “I thought you said two Iryllurym and two Anduarym?” Sariel countered, turning to Tamael who was just approaching from the west.

  “Perhaps he has more to fear as the days pass.” Tamael’s feline form moved silently over the rocks and sparse vegetation that struggled to grow at this elevation.

  For weeks, Sariel and his companions had watched the road leading away from the city toward Mudena Del-Edha, waiting for some indication that Semjaza was on the move. Finally, earlier in the morning, they spotted him coming into the city. But he traveled with two Anduarym to guard him on the ground, and two Iryllurym who flew circles overhead as he moved.22 There was no opportunity for Sariel to get the Pri-Rada alone. Instead, they watched helplessly as he entered the human city, then they took up a new observation point on the mountain above. But when Semjaza reached the mines at the base of Murakszhug, another five Anduarym and Iryllurym were waiting. Now, there were a total of fourteen soldiers surrounding him. The odds were moving in the wrong direction.

  Sariel peered down through the quickly fading afternoon light. “I can see the road, but the entrance to the mines is obscured.”

  “It’s there,” Batarel assured him. “All but two Anduarym accompanied him into the mountain.”

  Tamael nodded in agreement, having observed the same from the western slope.

  “How long does his inspection usually take?”

  “Perhaps an hour. Sometimes—”

  “Wait,” Sariel hissed, squinting. “There he is. He’s come out already.”

  “But it’s not dark yet,” Batarel growled low in his throat.

  “This is my only chance,” Sariel said with resignation. The situation was less than ideal, but he felt a gnawing panic that the time to act was slipping away.

  Tamael was now standing close. “This whole effort was a suicide mission anyway,” he whispered. “Whether he’s alone or guarded, I fear it will not go well for you, my friend.”

  Sariel kept his keen eyes fixed on the figures moving hundreds of feet below, but he wondered if this was the last time he’d see the Shapers standing next to him. “If I survive this, I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point. Thank you both for your help,” he said, then leaped from his hiding place.

  Gravity threatened to take control, but his bent wings caught just enough air to steer his silent form between the jagged boulders on each side of the shallow ravine. Hidden in the shadows of the fissure Sariel gained speed as he descended. Seconds later, the walls of rock on either side began to widen and the terrain below changed from boulders to loose gravel. In the pale light of dusk he shot out of the canyon with blinding speed, adjusting his approach as the angle of the slope lessened. To the north, the smooth, dark soil seemed to end abruptly. Somewhere on the other side of that cliff, unseen, was the entrance to the mines. Banking to the right, Sariel followed the contours of the land as it dropped off another steeper slope to the east. He maintained this heading for several seconds, passing to the east and below the mine entrance as he flew parallel to where the road should be. Suddenly, the crevice that he’d spotted earlier came into view. He banked sharply to the left and into the narrow corridor, coming to a landing as quietly as possible on his hands and knees. In the jaws of the earth it was completely dark and he had to scramble upward through the crevice, picking his way across sharp rocks and dirt before he reached a position where he could see the road through the opening on the other end. And there, he waited.

  Long moments passed. The sky overhead slowly transitioned from deep blue to black. Cramped into an awkward space, Sariel watched the stars come out and wondered if he’d made a mistake. Perhaps Semjaza went back into the mines. Perhaps he waited at the entrance. Either way, he and his guards should have passed along the road already.

  Unless they spotted me.

  Sariel quickly ran through the scenario in his mind, picturing the Anduarym moving into position on either end of the crevice. If he were organizing the attack, he’d have the Iryllurym drop in from above.

  Looking up, the sky was clear and only the stars were visible.

  A faint sound drifted to his ears. Then another. And another.

  Footsteps!

  Seconds later, three massive figures passed along the road. The two in front carried torches which cast a sudden, flickering light into Sariel’s hiding place.

  Sariel quickly dropped his head and held still. The moment passed and darkness returned. Then, from the corner of his vision, two silent forms glided through the sky and disappeared behind the north wall of the narrow ravine. Their silhouettes would have been invisible, but for the faint light of the stars.

  When only the receding sound of footsteps could be heard, Sariel knew it was time. Easing out of his contorted position, he crawled toward the road.

  * * * *

  Azael was the first to see the intruder. With black feathers and skin almost as dark, he excelled in the nighttime environment where others struggled. His red eyes were more effective at piercing the shadows than any of the other soldiers that Semjaza had under his command. As he circled back toward the south along his regular search pattern, he noticed something moving out of a crevice along the road. It was behind Semjaza and far too slow for an attack. But its proximity to the road and the fact that he hadn’t seen it until it moved, told Azael that it was an enemy nonetheless.

  “PA VAKT!” he shouted, alerting the others.

  In an instant, he retracted his wings and dropped from the sky, landing swiftly on the road between the threat and his superior.

  As the Anduarym moved into position behind him, also putting themselves between the threat and their Pri-Rada, Azael could see the orange light of their torches illuminate the land to the south, as well as the intruder who now stood in the middle of the road.

  The sight of an Iryllur was surprising. He was pale, with white and brown coloring, flecked with gold. His eyes were quick and flashed with blue as they reflected the torchlight. His build was thin, but efficiently muscular. Azael could discern from the little amount of movement he’d already observed, and now by the way the intruder stood, that he would be almost an equal match to himself.

  Although, the paler ones are weaker in spirit!

  A second later, Parnudel dropped to the road behind the intruder, silent until the moment his feet touched the gravel. Although he couldn’t see as well at night, his softer feathers and mottled brown coloring made him nearly undetectable by sight or sound, which had proven useful on many occasions.

  Now they had the intruder surrounded.

  “I apologize for my abrupt entrance,” the intruder said, a little too casually. “But your … hospitality was in question.”

  Azael moved slowly forward, seeing that Parnudel was doing the same. “What is your name, soldier?” he demanded, instantly hating the stranger’s attempt at humor.

  “Sariel.”

  “Stand down!” Semjaza ordered, pushing through the Anduar guards.

  Azael stopped, and relaxed his grip on the hilts of the vaepkir attached to either side of his breastplate at the small of his back. He didn’t understand his superior’s order, but reluctantly obeyed.

  “The Sariel?” Semjaza asked.

  “Yes,” came the simple response.


  Azael took note of how the intruder stood with his body slightly turned, keeping Parnudel in his peripheral vision.

  “What do you want?” Semjaza asked.

  Azael could hear an unusual curiosity in the Pri-Rada’s voice.

  “Just to talk,” the intruder replied.

  Suddenly, they were interrupted by a rush of wind as five other Iryllurym passed overhead and doubled back, coming to a landing near Semjaza. Then, the irregular beat of numerous footsteps was followed by the appearance of five more Anduarym, joining Parnudel on the south side of the intruder.

  When the commotion subsided, Semjaza’s mouth curled upward at the corner. “I hope, for your sake, that you have something very important to say.”

  Azael watched Sariel hold up his hands in a gesture of peace and move to the side of the road so that he was in the best position for escape. But there was no use. If he chose to flee, he’d be cut down in seconds.

  “I think there has been a misunderstanding,” Sariel began. The smug humor was gone from his face. Instead, he looked desperate. “My woman was taken from her village several weeks ago. Of course, you had no way of knowing that she was spoken for. So, I came to get her back.”

  The fact that this Iryllur was standing here revealed that he knew, at least in part, what they were doing with the humans. Azael looked to Semjaza who was now fully smiling. He’d seen this look many times before and it wasn’t from joy. It was from amusement at someone’s stupidity and usually preceded a violent outburst.

  “There are many women,” Semjaza said calmly.

  “I would be glad to point her out,” came the quick reply.

  “Yes, I’m sure you would. Tell me. What is a soldier with your reputation doing in this realm?” Semjaza probed, changing the direction of the conversation.

  Azael saw the briefest flicker of Sariel’s frustration, then it disappeared behind a mask of control. With every passing second, he hated this intruder more and more.

  “The same as you, I assume,” Sariel replied. “There is more work yet to be done here.”

  “Mmm,” Semjaza mumbled. “Well said.”

  “So, I came to—”

  “I could use someone with your considerable skills,” Semjaza interrupted. “There is indeed much to be done, and much that we could share.”

  Azael could see Sariel’s frustration mounting, and he was enjoying every second of it.