Heart of Time (Ruined Heart Series Book 1)

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Heart of Time (Ruined Heart Series Book 1) Page 11

by Skye MacKinnon


  “I felt what you tried to do, yet I do not know why it didn’t work. Maybe I have to do the same myself, to be able to slow down time together.”

  He paused, then closed his eyes. His brows were pulled together into an intense frown; I could feel his concentration fill the room. I waited, but nothing happened. After a while, he opened his eyes again. I could see from his expression that he had not expected to fail. He took a deep breath, then smoothed his face. Instantly, the anger and frustration had vanished. I envied his self-control.

  “I would like to try it one more time, but this time, I want to link minds with you to see exactly how you do it. I won’t touch you, so you should be able to succeed. I will be a, let’s call it a silent passenger, and will only observe, not meddle. Is that agreeable to you?”

  Unsure about what I was committing myself to, I nodded my head. When he closed his eyes, I did the same. First, I felt nothing out of the ordinary. Then, I began to notice a tendril of awareness that was extending itself in my direction. My first instinct was to reject it, to pull up my walls and hide behind them. But it was only Lassadar, he was not my enemy. If I wanted him to teach me, I would have to trust him. I opened myself to his fumbling mind. He came closer until our minds met. I knew then that he was too close, that he could invade my mind without having to fear my resistance, but when he stopped, hovering at the edges of my consciousness, I pushed away that thought. He would not hurt me; he was only here to observe. He lingered there, bound to my mind by only a small link, small enough for me to ignore.

  Once again, I drew energy from the cold lake only to use it to put shackles on the hands of the big clock I imagined in my mind. This time, they put up no resistance. Time slowed down to a trickle, and the air thickened around me until it had the consistency of syrup. It was a warm blanket which I pulled around me like a cloak until the syrup pressed against my skin. Clutching time to my chest, I moved around the room, taking the time to look at everything my eyes fell on. It was a tidy study, without any clutter filling the surfaces as it would have had it been my room. Books filled the shelves lining the walls; a large bureau covered with a range of quilts and ink pots occupied one corner of the room, the folding screen Lassadar had changed behind earlier another. Opposite the only door was the fireplace that contained the elvedritsch’s cage. She was looking at me. While I moved towards her, she cocked her head to one side, as if wondering whether I was worth her attention. I looked at the lifeless figure of Lassadar, still standing in the middle of the room, next to where I had been when I stopped time. He was not moving. Yet the elvedritsch hen was staring me straight in the eyes and began to give off a clucking sound, as if to prove that she was not affected by my magic. I went to my knees in front of her and opened the hatch of her cage. With a quick hop, she jumped out of it and lay her head on my lap. Still, she was cackling, as if trying to tell me something. Until now, I had thought her as mindless as any other chicken, but the look she was giving me now told a different story. With her head, she motioned me to look at her egg, at least that’s what I thought she was trying to communicate. When I stretched out my hand, there was a tug at my mind, but I slammed up my defensive walls and ignored it. Cautiously, I lay one hand on the crimson egg. Warmth shot through my arm and straight into my heart. I gasped and pulled back my hand, shocked by the intensity of the sensation. Lassadar’s tugging at my mind became stronger, but when I turned back to look at him, his body was still standing in the same position as when I’d last seen him. Instinctively I repelled him, just as I had done with Lor once. The pulling stopped, I had rid my mind of his presence.

  Without regret over the lost connection, I once more turned to the egg. This time, I carefully placed both hands on its sides. It had grown so much that my hands did not meet on its opposite side. Again, warmth spread through me, filling my entire body. My hands vibrated slightly on its humming surface. Last time, the effect had not even been close to the strength it now showed, but I didn’t know whether that was due to the egg’s growth or the stopped time. A wave of tiredness suddenly washed over me, reminding me that my energy reservoir was close to being depleted. Still, just another moment alone with the egg. I extended my senses towards it, but this time, instead of a brightly burning flame, I only felt the guarded walls of a consciousness that were beyond that of a simple elvedritsch. There was something else sleeping within this egg, something intelligent.

  Before I could investigate further, my energy ran out and I was pulled back into the present.

  Behind me, Lassadar moved. Time was flowing normally again. “Why did you break the link? Didn’t you feel me nudging you?”

  Without knowing it, he offered me a way out. I chose ignorance. “I didn’t feel the link to you anymore just after I stopped the hands of the clock from ticking. I must have used too much strength and severed the link by accident. I’m sorry, I will have to practice my self-control more.”

  Not sure whether he would believe me, I put on an innocent face. “Did you manage to see how I did it? When did the link break?”

  “I more felt than saw anything. I will try to replicate your method another day, it’s getting too late. I will see you to your room and we will continue our lesson tomorrow.”

  For some reason, I was glad that he hadn’t seen me investigate the egg.

  The ship was sailing through the night sky reflected on the sea’s calm surface. Stars made way for its wooden body. The slapping of the waves was the only sound far and wide. I stood on the bow, looking out over the sea before us. The absolute darkness was frightening and calming at the same time. Suddenly, the ship rocked to one side, and I fell to the ground, scrambling to find something to hold on to, but there was nothing but air beneath my hands - and suddenly I was flying, the wings on my back were beating strongly, and I went higher and higher towards the stars and –

  “Wake up, miss.” A thin voice was beside my head. I was so tired, I needed sleep. I sank back into the warmth embrace of my dream, but the wind I was flying with suddenly shook me, until my wings hurt, and I had trouble staying in the air. It shook and shook until the dream left me awake. I sat up, looking at a small boy, his face lit up by the torch he was holding. “You are to come to Lord Lassadar immediately.”

  I yawned and threw the duvet to one side and got out of bed. When I stepped to the chest that held my clothes, the boy called, “There’s no time, miss. He said you have to come now, without delay.” His voice shook with fear. I sighed and turned to follow him.

  Lassadar’s study was brightened by several torches and candles. The window to my left was open and I was shivering in the cold air in my thin night clothes. I was kneeling on the floor, staring at the crimson egg that was lying between me and Lassadar. He had removed it from the elvedritsch cage and placed it on a heap of soft fabric to secure it in an upright position. The elvedritsch hen was circling her egg, rubbing against it with her right wing. There were some thin cracks on its top, from time to time I could see something press against them from the inside.

  “Have I told you that I don’t even know what will hatch from this egg? I’d be very surprised if it was another elvedritsch, as it is well known that they cannot produce live offspring. Maybe a normal rooster impregnated this elvedritsch hen, but what the product of that union might be, I have no idea.”

  He was interrupted by a tiny wet nose breaking through the cracks. The elvedritsch mother was cackling excitedly and tried to break off the shell pieces around the little snout. Lassadar shooed her away, but said kindly, “Let it do it for itself.”

  Spellbound, we watched the black nose appear again, pressing against the hard shell of the egg. This time it was strong enough to completely break through its confinement. Below the black wetness of the snout’s tip, there was red fur, soppy from the egg’s fluids, end then the eyes, dark and big in the small face. With another push, the head was out of the egg, looking around its new environment. It was a deer’s head, yet instead of brown, the fur was as red as the s
hell from which it had hatched.

  “A deer!”, Lassadar exclaimed astonished. “How does a deer get into an elvedritsch’s egg?” I had no answer for him, I was just as surprised. Of all the possibilities I had come up with, this was not one of them.

  The elvedritsch cackled questioningly at her young, and it turned its head to look at her. They stared at each other, and the young deer stopped his efforts of trying to escape his confinement. Then, the elvedritsch bowed her scaled head and began to pick at the egg’s shell. This time, Lassadar left her to her task. Once she had a piece of shell in her beak, she pulled at it with a powerful movement of her head, until it broke free. Piece for piece, she helped make a larger opening for her child, until it was big enough for the little deer to climb out.

  It pushed to one side of the shell until the egg keeled over. The deer emerged from its shell.

  It wasn’t a deer after all. Its head was that of a fawn, with large eyes and ears, between which I could already see a hump where antlers might sprout from in the future. On its back, the red was patchy, with yellow spots shining through the crimson fur. Its upper body also resembled that of a deer, yet its hind legs looked like those of a rooster, with scales resembling those of the elvedritsch hen and claws that gripped the floor where it lay. But the most astonishing characteristic of the young fawn were the red wings that were folded together on its back. They were wrinkled and as wet as the rest of its body, yet when he tried to stand up, he unfolded them and let us see their beauty. Thousands of tiny feathers made up the wings, their orange, red and yellow shades made it look like a fire was burning on them. The more he stretched, the more the wrinkles disappeared, leaving a smooth surface. The little fawn staggered onto its legs, stood for a second or two, then the unequal legs gave way under him. He lay on the ground, his little snout on the floor. He was breathing quickly, his belly showing the movement of every breath. After taking a moment to recover, he tried it again, this time first erecting his forelegs, then lifting his hips and stretching his hind legs. He stood, swaying, until he took a first wobbly step, which left him lying on his belly once more. This time he stayed there, moving his legs under his body to make himself more comfortable. His mother lay down next to him, warming him under a scaled wing, a proud look in her golden eyes.

  “A peryton! Of all the magical beasts there are, this is the most elusive, the most mythical of them all! I didn’t think they existed! There are a few legends and tales, conflicting and inconsistent, yet they tell of a beast combining the physical features of a stag and a bird. Never did I think that this bird might be an elvedritsch!” Lassadar’s voice was full of awe and wonder. Inside, I agreed with him. The little thing was astonishing. At the sound of Lassadar’s voice, he opened his big eyes and looked up at us. First, he turned his head to the man opposite of me, then he shook his head slightly and turned to me. The huge brown eyes looked straight at me. I stared back. I saw an intelligence waiting behind those watery pupils. This peryton was not simply a beast like any other. It was more than that, though I could not say what brought me to that conclusion. His look was firm and steady, and when I cautiously smiled at him, he inclined his head.

  Hello.

  9

  King Gynt the First (the Wise)

  Second son of King Fer. He was born to King Fer and his wife Queen Lucia in the first year after the end of the Fifth War as their second son and third child. Despite being a younger son, he was raised in the same way as his older brother, the Crown Prince. He was educated in diplomacy, foreign languages and the customs of other countries, as well as in physical skills, where he excelled, and the arts. Early on, he was known for his quick witted tongue, his excellent swordsmanship and the ability to lead others and form them into an optimal team.

  When his father, King Fer, died, his older brother Fran was crowned the new king of Fer. Yet his reign was short, only lasting a score of days, until he died, some say under mysterious circumstances. Prince Gynt ascended the Fer’an throne immediately and has ruled Fer ever since. He has initiated several important changes in the Kingdom’s laws, including the founding of the Blue Militia, the appointment of Lord Lassadar as his top advisor, as well as the so-called ‘choosing’ of talented young people to join his staff and household. It is rumoured that his title, ‘ King Gynt the Wise’, has been a product of Lord Lassadar’s influence over bards and poets, who are paid a certain sum of money for each time they add ‘the Wise’ when the king is mentioned in their songs and poems. However, this has not been proven to be fact.

  - A History of Fer, Jonas de Tourtur

  The little peryton had fallen asleep. His legs were hidden under his small body; his head was pressed on his flank. From time to time his ears, looking too big for his head, twitched. In the fireplace where the elvedritsch’s cage had stood, now a lively fire burned. The flames danced around the room, being reflected on the scaly hind quarters of the little peryton. I was tired, yet too excited to go back to sleep. I was sitting on the floor, as I had when the peryton had hatched and leant my back against the front of the armchair behind me. Its wooden frame pressed against my spine, yet I accepted this as the price I had to pay for staying awake. The first morning light flowed into the room, its pale orange light painted the eastern window frame. Soon, the new day would arrive, letting the long night seem like just another dream. Birds began to sing softly in the distance; a lake gull cried her joy over the breaking dawn.

  The elvedritsch was laying on the floor, warming the peryton’s tiny body. His fur was no longer wet, now it stood in all directions. I longed to touch him and run my hand through his fur, but I was afraid I might wake him. He was simply beautiful, with his scarlet fur and scales, his large eyes, his dark little nose. Only his hind legs looked out of place, with their claws and thick upper thighs. With his dissimilar legs, it was admirable that he had even managed a single step earlier.

  While I was looking at his sleeping form, I was debating whether I had just imagined him saying hello in my mind. I must have. There was no way a deer, peryton, whatever he was, could break through my mind’s walls so easily. I had gained in strength while I’d been a guest of Lassadar’s. He had shown me a way to access my own power resources without having to rely on sapping energy from plants. He had pulled me out of the dungeon, where - had Lor had his way - I would surely have starved or died from sickness. I owed him so much. But now he was looking at me with a deep and critical look, one that made me avert my eyes and look somewhere, anywhere as long as it was not his accusing face. I had done something wrong, yet I could not remember what this had been. When I tried to grasp it, the memory slipped through my hands, disappearing into the unused corners of my tired mind. Maybe I was just too tired. Yet at some point, Lassadar would confront me. Better to get it over with then. But I was lost for words.

  Sleep, a voice told me impatiently. No think.

  And I was happy to comply.

  At the beginning, there was thought. And hunger. Slowly, the hunger subsided. I floated, drifting in the darkness. Dreams came, fantasies of worlds long lost. Memories that were not my own. They flowed through me, saturating me with knowledge I had not learned, places I had not visited, friends I had not met. Suddenly, I was not alone. There was First, who had been an accident of nature. He was new, unplanned, unaffected by the past. Everything he did was something that had not been done before. He experimented and created his own habits. The next ones were the opposite, relying on the life First had lived. They took his memories and used them for their own gains. Then, there were those that tried to separate themselves from the burden of a shared past. They were unsuccessful. The next ones learned from the mistakes of everyone before them and through that became better at being themselves. Then, there was me. I was at the end of a long line of beings, and their memories all culminated in myself. While I was being washed over by new waves of memory, I decided that it was a heavy weight to carry. Then there was silence. The flow of memories subsided. I could not move, yet my mind w
as busy exploring itself. There were fragments of other lives mixed with my own unsure thoughts. Had it been me who flew over the ocean until there was a new, undiscovered land where I had found a plentiful place, one that later became the mingling grounds for others of my race? Had I carried the young, blind prince of Elasia on my strong back, telling him of the beauty of the nature that surrounded us? Had I stood under icy waterfalls, looking up at the night’s sky? The water had been cold, yet refreshing, washing away the sweat on my fur and the dust on my scales. It had been a moment of beauty, the stars twinkling in the high up sky, the water rushing over my ears, eliminating any other sound that might fill the night, drops of reflected moonlight dripping down from my antlers. Suddenly, I felt someone calling me. With a sigh, I left the memories behind and sent out my awareness, looking for the mysterious noise that had startled me. I found nothing. Again, I felt around, looking for another consciousness. And suddenly, it was there, right in front of me, so close that I could hardly believe it. Like a great balloon, the mind was floating upwards, leaving behind something that I could not grasp, something essential. I heard a heartbeat, getting slower, fading away. The mind bubble was disappearing, and somehow I knew that it mustn’t. It felt so familiar, so close, so like me. I wrapped myself around it, hugging it closely and carefully began to nudge it back into the body that was lying there all alone. I whispered to the awareness, calming it’s red fears, soothing it gently. Yet suddenly it began to struggle, breaking free from my grip. Don’t. Please, don’t, I asked it, but there was no reply. I kept my hold on it, not letting the mind escape, even though it fought to disappear. The closer I held it, the more I felt it. The walls around it were crumbling, and I could see inside, watching pictures unfold, a child running over grasslands, an old woman standing beside a golden chair, a young human chasing a dark figure over snowy fields, there was a sense of urgency, this person had to be stopped, and I spread my wings and followed the pair, getting closer, until I stretched out my claws and lifted the black man up into the air, flying away - with a large effort, I stepped back into myself, leaving the dream that was not my own. The mind balloon was floating upwards; I had lost my grip on it. Again, I extended my awareness and wrapped myself around it, again and again, until it could not escape. Still, it fought me. Stop, I told it, and the struggling ceased. Gently, I pressed it downwards, into the body. With a snap, it was gone, one with its host. And I was alone again.

 

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