Nyx was shocked. “The other tribes never rose up against this?”
“All the tribes in the known world signed onto the great pact,” Zedne said. “So they could not do anything since the Dar’kar had violated this most sacred treaty. Of course, there have also been wild rumors of renegade families living by themselves out in the wastes, siring both male and female Vis users. The Magi sent many patrols to root out those that did not sign the pact.”
Nyx remembered Miri’s earlier tale about the origins of the Gorgons. No wonder the Magi were trained as warriors. “But since the patrols stopped so long ago,” Nyx said. “How do the Magi know if any child of the tribes would still exhibit the Vis now?”
“That is a question that I do not know,” Zedne said softly. “Our tribe is fortunate, for no male child has been born a Magus since the patrols stopped. As for the other tribes, assuming they still exist, I am fearful of what has happened.”
Nyx scratched the back of her head. “So if the Magi do not patrol the tribes anymore, what happens to the male children of Vis then?”
“According to the great pact, they must be taken to the nearest citadel if the Magi do not come for them,” Miri said. “If that is not possible, then the child is put to death.”
Nyx let out a deep breath. “By the gods! That is a horrible fate!”
Miri held out a hand and gestured at the younger woman to lower her voice. “We have had no contact with the other tribes since the patrols ceased as well. So perhaps the Magi stopped bothering with us simply because there have been no male children born with the Vis in our tribe.”
“But how would they know that we do not have any?” Nyx asked.
“That is the question that has yet to be answered,” Zedne said. “Though I think the other explanation is more likely- that we are the last remaining tribe out here, and the Magi have been corrupted.”
“We may need to find out. If the boy is a Magus, I do not wish death upon him if the Magi no longer exist,” Miri said. “Mother, where is the closest citadel that we could journey to?”
“The citadel of Doss, many days travel to the west of here,” Zedne said. “I know of no one who has journeyed in that direction since the day we found you, child. Elder Devos the teller probably has an old map to guide you, should you decide to travel there.”
“The hunting party was ranging out in the western area when we encountered the dargon,” Miri said. “It is entirely possible that the boy and those that were seeking him might have come from that place.”
Nyx had been listening intently. All these tales were new to her. This was something that wasn’t taught by the tellers and the elders. “Pardon me, but what lies beyond that citadel?”
“Barren hills and the remnants of the city of Ceorath,” Zedne said. “I was quite young when I visited that city, and it was already decaying. So few inhabitants were left in there. I would imagine that the entire settlement would have been a ruin by now, unless the gods somehow blessed it and it would thrive again.”
“Do you think it would be worthwhile if we investigate that citadel? Perhaps the answers that we are looking for might lie in there,” Miri said.
Zedne smiled as she placed a wrinkled hand on Miri’s cheek. “You are the protector of this tribe, child. It is up to you if you feel that such a place needs to be explored. But if the boy’s story is true, then it seems the Magi of that place are doing strange, evil things to children in there. If you were to ask for my counsel, I would say be very cautious. We do not know what the Magi are up to these days, and you may be heading into a trap you cannot escape from.”
Miri smiled. Elder Zedne was always a fountain of wisdom. “Then let us err on the side of caution for now. What I would like to do is to try and probe the boy’s thoughts and gleam any additional information on this enigma.”
Zedne nodded as she turned and headed for the healing room. “Wait here, I will see if the boy has gone to sleep.”
While the elder went into the other room, Nyx stood beside the protector. Her excitement was at a fever pitch. “Miri, if you will travel to that citadel, can I come with you? I have never been out more than two weeks away from this village.”
“If I do make the journey to that place,” Miri said. “Then it will be a dangerous one. It is best that you remain here, your Vis is not yet strong enough to withstand the rigors of battle, should it come to that.”
Nyx was crushed. “Miri, please! I have never made a long journey, it will be an adventure for me. I am tired of sitting around in this village, it is the same thing over and over again. This last hunt was the greatest thing that ever happened in my entire life!”
Mir held her hand up again. “Calm down and lower your voice. The village is safe, we have sentries guarding the outer perimeter so there has never been an attack against us since I became protector. If you go out there without any experience, you will be easy prey for the beasts and men who wish to do you harm. Have patience and do not be so brash. Your time will come, just focus on getting better with your Vis.”
Nyx turned around and walked to the other side of the room as she began to sulk. Zedne came back out into the main chamber and walked over to Miri. “The boy is asleep now. Our questioning must have placed a lot of strain on him,” the elder said.
“Alright, I shall attempt a mind probe on him,” Miri said as she walked towards the other entryway. “You might want to console Nyx, she is pouting again.”
As Zedne went over to the teen girl in order to cheer her up, Miri opened the leather flap and stepped into the healing room. She could see the boy sleeping on the bed. Standing over him, Miri began to refocus her Vis. Although she believed the boy was telling the truth about what had happened to him, she wanted to see if he might have withheld any crucial information that could shed some light on how he escaped and what the situation was with the Magi.
Closing her eyes, Miri began to expand her mental presence. Her senses became highly acute as she became aware of the slightest pressure in the air, the subtle changes in temperature and the smells of oil, fermented algae, and dried urine. She could soon hear the boy’s light breathing as her mind hovered over him. Soon enough, her Vis began embedding itself into the boy’s head. At first, Rion’s thoughts were merely blank since his mind was resting in a deep sleep. Miri went past his dormant surface cognizance and began to enter Rion’s subconscious, the place where he stored his memories.
The images that began to flow through her mind were in fragments. It was like brief snippets of flashback, short recollections that had branded themselves into the boy’s memory. Miri refocused as she began to sort through the cascade of images, sounds, smells, and past feelings. She needed to carefully arrange them into a coherent set of senses in order to understand any of it. The discipline required intense concentration as any lapse in her Vis would throw the whole thing into a jumbled, incomprehensible mess that would take a long time to sort out.
The first reminiscences were of Rion crying in the dark. The boy was held down tightly, unable to move his arms and legs. He was bound naked on a slab of cold stone. Then a blinding light hovered over him, like a small sun. The boy blinked as he tried to turn away from the intense radiance that was practically blinding. Then she saw shadows looming over him. Hushed whispers, even an occasional laugh was heard. Rion cried out, begging to be let go, but they ignored his pleas. Miri felt the boy’s pain as metal needles were inserted into his arms. Rion’s screams intensified when his limbs began to feel numb. He turned his head, and Miri saw a strange sight: all along the boy’s arms were transparent, ropy material, like crystal worms that snaked around his arm. The needles embedded in his limbs were drawing crimson liquid from his body. Miri gasped. The end of the glass tendrils led to a strange contraption, a box made of dark metal with strange, glowing symbols that was draining Rion’s blood. Just as the boy began to pass out, the painful needles were removed, leaving a red welt along his thin arms. The boy began to whimper, the pain and the weakness
continued. Another shadow stood over the child. One set of eyes looked at him, only this time it showed a modicum of pity and sadness.
“No one will hurt you any longer,” the voice whispered in Rion’s ear. Then the boy felt the straps being removed from his arms and legs. Rion moaned as his rescuer threw a cloak over his bare body and lifted him up. More darkness. The sensation of being carried through a twilit corridor. Then the sudden gust of wind in the night air as the man who carried him ventured into the outside.
Miri opened her eyes. As she adjusted back into her own thoughts, she nearly lost her balance. Reacting quickly, she held onto the side of the wall at the last minute, which stopped her from falling onto the floor. She was breathing heavily. Refocusing her own mind back into place took longer than usual. The horrific memories of the boy being tortured like that were still quite vivid in her mind. She silently chanted her meditation mantras while the foreign memories bled out.
As she ventured out into the main chamber, Elder Zedne walked over to her. “I sent Nyx back to her home, there was no point in her brooding around here,” the old woman said. “Did you glean anything useful?”
Miri nodded. She was exhausted. “He has been through a terrible ordeal. I think it is best that we go slowly with whatever needs to be done. The Magi were doing some sort of ritual on him. He spent most of his time lying on a stone slab as they would drain his blood. Those evil men only stopped because he was near death, then they would wait and do it all over again as soon as he had sufficient strength for another bloodletting. To what kind of nefarious end all that torture was about, I have no knowledge. Much of his memories seemed to have been burned away, or suppressed so deep that not even I could fathom them. He must have learned how to speak the trade language from somewhere, but all his recollections are about the agony he endured and escaped from.”
“Better we wait,” Zedne said. “If his pursuers were both killed, then we are reasonably safe here. I would suggest we treat the boy as a foundling for now. We can have Elder Devos instruct him in the tales of our people. Perhaps with a stable life with the tribe, his full memories will reveal themselves in time, and then we could act on it.”
“Agreed,” Miri said. There was something else about the boy. Rion didn’t seem to be just any sort of Magus, for there was nothing special about a Magi’s blood. She sensed that the boy might be someone even more special, but she needed to know more before deciding on anything else.
Chapter 5
Once the day’s teachings were over, the other children got up and left the teller’s hut. The younger ones were on their way home to their mothers, while the older ones would go out and play. Rion wanted to learn more about the stories the teller told, so he volunteered to stay behind and help clean the teaching room. It had been days since he recovered from his ordeal in the desert and his fear and suspicions were replaced by an innate curiosity, a trait common with every child. His mental sessions with Elder Zedne and Miri were of great benefit to him, since it helped to lock away his bad memories, though he would still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, when the dark recollections entered his dreamstate.
Elder Devos placed the stone tablets back into the bone shelf. He glanced at the boy who was sweeping the floor with a hair broom. Rion had only started the teachings quite recently, but he was a fast learner. The boy had a quick mind, and seemed to be able to learn the chants and songs after just listening to them but once. Devos had been looking for such a child with a talent like that, for he needed to train a successor soon.
Rion stood to the side and looked at the results of his handiwork. The floor was smooth once more, the loose dust finally swept into the depressed entryway. He placed the broom to the side of the wall, near the shoe rack, then turned to face the teller. “Elder Devos, I have finished cleaning the learning area. Do you have another task for me?”
Devos looked at the boy and smiled. Unlike the other men in the village, he had a full growth of beard on his chin and it extended down to the middle of his neck. However, since his only child had passed away from the great fever of forty cycles ago, Devos’s unique gift would soon be lost once the wastes reclaimed him. “Come over here, child. Would you like to eat something?”
“No, thank you,” Rion said as he walked over and sat down on the floor beside the teller. “Elder Zedne makes a very thick soup, full of green algae and shrooms. She forces me to eat it every morning before coming here.”
Devos laughed as he sat down in front of the boy. “Do you reside with Elder Zedne for now?”
The boy nodded. “I sometimes stay at the protector’s house if the healer needs to treat anyone. Elder Zedne says that it is best to keep away from the sick, lest I catch whatever it is that ails them.”
“Protector Miri must also be kind to you,” Devos said. “In all my cycles of life here, I feel that she is our most powerful protector. The only one that comes close to her was a male protector named Lakajan. He was a Magus who completed his training at the citadel and returned to us, for he was once born here. Of course, all this was many cycles ago, I was but a boy your age back then.”
Rion’s blond eyebrows shot up. “Oh? I thought only Strigas could become protectors.”
Devos shook his head. “No, child. Anyone can be a protector. Even those that are not blessed with the gift of Vis can be elected by the council of elders to defend the tribe. The protector is usually the best fighter. Many hunters have been elected to the title.”
“I see,” the boy said. “I have another question. You and the others sometimes remark about Vis as a goddess, while other times you use the word to describe the power of the mind. Are there two meanings to it?”
“You are very perceptive,” Devos said. “We consider Vis as a deity, and yet we also call the gift that she bestows in her own name as well. The power of the mindsense and the mindforce are but manifestations of Vis. Other children have a slight difficulty in grasping this, but you seem to have understood it at once.”
Rion listened intently. “The one thing that confuses me is that some in the village call Vis a man, yet others refer to him as a goddess. Which is it?”
“An astute observation,” Devos said. “You see, the Magi consider Vis as a male god, for their powers are derived from the aspect of the god’s manly side- his loins. Strigas consider Vis as a goddess, they believe that she is not a man, but is in fact, a woman.”
“So which is the correct belief?” the boy asked.
“They are both right. The tales tell of Vis being part man and part woman. He or she can assume a different form, depending on who channels her power. If a man uses her gifts, then he receives the male aspect of the god. If it is a woman with the power, then Vis shall also become female to accommodate her.”
“It somewhat makes sense,” Rion said. “So the gods can change their gender?”
Devos smirked. “It depends on who you ask. The Magi believes that Vis is exclusively male, while some Strigas consider her wholly female.”
“What do you believe?”
“I do not believe in absolutes,” Devos said. “No one is truly right or wrong. The gods are mysterious and their goals are hard to understand. The best we can do is not to displease them.”
“So does the tribe worship Vis then?”
“We venerate Vis, but she is not our primary god,” Devos said. “Our tribe primarily worships two other gods. Duun is the god of the wastes, and his wife, the goddess Karma, she who controls fate.”
The boy nodded. “I have heard some of the hunters whisper a prayer to Duun as they stand guard on the outskirts. Is he a kind god?”
“He can be,” Devos said. “Though he can also be harsh if the situation demands it. We must respect Duun and his ways. He provides us with the sun to grow our algae for food, yet his gift of heat and light can also spell the doom of the unprepared who venture out into the wastes. If one is without proper tools or is lacking knowledge on how to navigate the harsh lands aroun
d us, then Duun will take their lives. To acknowledge Duun is to respect the land, we hunt only to provide enough food to feed the tribe, never for trade. If we were to hunt as many beasts as we wanted to, then Duun will punish us by no longer providing any animals for the people to hunt and we will ultimately die. If we disrespect his gifts, then we will incur his wrath, it is as simple as that.”
“What about the goddess Karma?”
Devos laughed a little. “Karma is very much like her husband. She decides the destinies of men. Like Duun, her ways must be respected. Karma teaches us we must value each other, and our words must all be promises and always the truth. If one disrespects the goddess of fate by becoming destructive with such acts as stealing another’s possessions, lying, or murder, then the offender shall incur her wrath. When Karma gets angry, she sends curses and a dark fate awaits those who have offended her. Karma’s way is that of divine retribution upon those that break their vows and murder one another. Her justice is implacable, and it is best to stay clear of those that have violated her commands.”
“I somewhat understand why they are husband and wife now,” Rion said. “One compliments the other. Duun teaches us the way to survive the wastes while Karma teaches us the proper ways to interact with one another. If either god gets disrespected, then the cosmic order goes awry. Did I get that right?”
Devos beamed as he leaned forward and ruffled the boy’s blond hair. “You are very perceptive! You have completely understood what has been taught to you right away. I foresee a great future ahead for you, Rion.”
The boy blushed. “Thank you, teller. I still have much to learn though.”
“Feel free to ask me,” Devos said. “I will tell you everything I know.”
“Is there any other gods that the tribe worships?”
Lands of Dust (The Dying World Book 1) Page 6