Lands of Dust (The Dying World Book 1)

by John Triptych

  The Magus tilted his head back and closed his eyes for a few seconds as the boy’s potent blood seeped through his body. He had just started ingesting Rion’s blood since early morning, and already he could feel a tingling where his loins once were. Soon enough, he knew he would be a whole man once again, it was just a matter of time. All his life he hated being emasculated, it was a rage that boiled inside of him for as long as he could remember. Slane used his shame as motivation to fuel his extraordinary rise through the ranks of the Magi order. Now that there was no one left to stop him, he would forge his own way across the barren lands, perhaps he would even found a mighty empire of his own.

  Rion whimpered as the pain in his chest began to subside. Within minutes the wound had sealed and all that remained was a few drops of dried blood on his chest. Slane looked at the boy’s torso closely while running his hand along where the wound used to be. He could not even see any scarring. It was like the work of the gods. This boy was truly special.

  Slane rubbed the dried blood on his gauntlet. “See? Your gifts are a blessing from the gods themselves. Your very blood is potent enough to restore my loins and keep me young forever. With your capabilities and my Vis, we can rule this world together!”

  Rion frowned and shook his head. “You are an evil Magus! I do not want to go with you.”

  A flash of anger surged in Slane’s mind as he grabbed the boy by his throat once more. “You have no choice! You must either learn to respect my wishes, or you will face a life of endless suffering.”

  Rion clenched his teeth. If all he could hope for was a life of a being slave at this man’s side, then he preferred not to live at all. The boy’s thoughts turned from fear into anger. Suddenly he felt time slowing down as something began to stir inside of him. A new sense of awareness began to manifest in his own mind. A power that had previously been dormant had now arisen. Rion could now perceive the directional shifts of the invisible winds around him. His consciousness traveled all along the entire hull of the sand sail. Rion could feel the hundreds of metal nails and screws holding the vessel together. The rolling wheels along the soft sand began to sing out to him, the leather sail high above felt like a living being. All he had to do now was to talk to them, and they would do his bidding.

  Slane noticed that the boy’s eyes had a blank look to them. His eyebrows furrowed in a brief flurry of confusion. From his own experience, he knew that only the ones with the gift of Vis could have such a faraway look. “What are you thinking about?”

  The boy didn’t listen to him as he began to gather up his own Vis. It was like scooping handfuls of ether and tightly rolling it up until the whole bundle became more powerful. His first impulse was to try it out. Rion focused his energies on the knots that Slane had tied around the mast to keep the leather ropes fastened. Using his awareness of each time the lines had been twisted together, he used his mindforce to untangle the closest ropes.

  After a few seconds, the vessel suddenly began to veer off to the side as several lines that held the sail had unexpectedly uncoiled. Slane stood up in surprise and he nearly fell off the platform before grabbing at one of the metal support struts along the sides. He glared at the boy. “You! You are doing this! Cease your actions or I shall slay you!”

  Rion closed his eyes and concentrated once more. He sensed a slightly loose pin along one of the axles that held a portion of the wheels along the side. It had been pounded in by hammers long ago and even though it was slightly unhinged, it would take a powerful amount of force to remotely dislodge it. Rion gathered up his reserves of Vis and consolidated it all before unleashing it against the metal pin. The sand sail abruptly started to shake as the pin was loosened.

  Slane grabbed at the loose lines and gathered them before attempting to knot them back to the mast. Just as he was about to tie them together, the entire ship suddenly tilted sideways and he was thrown onto the dusty flats below. The Magus instantly reacted, grabbing at the rope still in his hand as he was dragged along the ground. He had been in a relaxed mood since that morning and he had not prepared a reserve of Vis. Slane roared with rage as he held onto the ropes to give himself a bit more time.

  Rion had seen what had happened as he used his mindforce to tilt the sail into the wind. He could see a number of rock outcroppings ahead and it was clear that the sand sail was on a collision course. All he had to do now was to keep the Magus distracted, and he could make his escape.

  Slane cried out in pain as his body was dragged through the dusty flats. He had taken off his armor and stored it in the vessel’s cabin. As he tried to climb up the hull using the ropes, his right boot was torn away by the increasing speed of the sand sail. Slane slipped and was nearly dragged underneath the stone wheels while he held onto the ropes for dear life.

  Rion stood up and used his mindforce to untangle his restraints. In a few seconds, the leather straps that had bound his arms behind his back fell to the floor in a tangled heap. The boy concentrated on keeping the speed of the vessel up when he noticed that Slane was only a few feet away from being caught by one of the wheels. The boy held out his hand and used his Vis to push the Magus down. If he could shove him just a few feet further along the sides of the hull, then it would be a sure death for his enemy.

  Just as Slane used his Vis to leap up into safety, a counter force suddenly drove his chest back down onto the side of the vessel. He had to bend his knee in order not to get caught by the massive stone wheel just less than a foot away from him. He looked up and saw the boy’s eyes and he knew. “Curse you! I shall make you suffer before you die!”

  Rion was using all his power, but he could feel that the Magus was overcoming his Vis. He tried to keep Slane pinned down along the side of the ship, but his enemy had more experience using his own mindforce, and the boy could no longer hold him. Slane roared with rage as he overcame the power holding him down by sheer force of will, his body now slowly rising up into the air, away from the spinning wheels and slowly levitating towards the boy. Slane snarled as he unsheathed his sword. Rion realized he could not do battle with the Magus directly so he used his remaining Vis to dislodge the ropes that tied the sail to the mast. As Slane got to within striking distance, the sail suddenly unfurled and the land ship plunged headlong into the side of a boulder jutting out from the ground in front of it. The front part of the hull collapsed inwards and both man and boy were thrown violently from the platform and onto the surrounding rocks nearby.

  For what seemed like an eternity, all she could feel was the cold stone ground beneath her back. Was death nothing more than a long sleep, or was it merely a prelude to a heavenly afterlife that the gods had promised? The answers were not forthcoming as her senses slowly began to instill awareness back into her tired, injured body. In time, the coldness of the stones was replaced by waves of heat that cascaded along her sides. She sensed a painful tightness in her abdomen when her sense of touch returned. Her ears soon began to tell her that there was someone nearby, shuffling back and forth. Her sense of smell indicated a blending of sickly sweet algae and fungi, the kind of things that Elder Zedne used to prescribe when someone in the tribe was sick or injured.

  Miri opened her eyes and saw the glowing embers of a small fire being tended to beside her. She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in her stomach kept her lying on the ground. Crouching nearby was a figure wearing a crimson robe, the shadows keeping its true form hidden from her view. She was in a stone room, and the glyphs on the walls seemed to indicate she was still somewhere within the Black Redoubt. The area had large windows that revealed the night sky. The robed figure sensed that she had finally awakened, and started shuffling towards her.

  Miri’s memories quickly came back. Her eyes opened wide. Nyx had told her that she dreamed of a red robed man out in the desert. What Miri had never told her was that she had the exact same dream as well. She tilted her head and found that the stranger had knelt down beside her. When Miri spoke, her mouth was dry and her voice raspy. “Who a-are yo
u?”

  Two leathery hands pulled back the crimson hood, revealing an old woman’s wrinkled face. Wisps of silvery hair hung limply on her head. She gave Miri a toothless smile. “I have come by many names. If you must call me something, then I go by Neth.”

  “I thought I was dead,” Miri said before grimacing from the sudden jolt of pain in her stomach.

  “You must lie still for the time being,” Neth said as she held her right hand a few inches above Miri’s torso. “Your spine was nearly severed, and I needed to rest before resuming the final part of the healing ritual. We might as well finish this now.”

  Miri was confused. “What?”

  Neth gestured at her to be quiet. Miri tilted her to her chest and gasped as she saw a raw, gaping wound in the middle of her stomach. The old woman closed her eyes and murmured a chant in a long dead language. Miri’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as she saw droplets of blood seeping out of Neth’s outstretched fingers. The drips of crimson floated in the air and soon became a trail of fluid as it slowly flowed down into Miri’s wound. The Striga suddenly felt light headed as the old woman’s blood mingled with her own, repairing torn muscle, organs and tissue. Neth looked to be in a trance as her blood continued to sew up Miri’s stomach until all that was needed was to close the torn skin on the wound. As the fire began to die down, Neth opened her eyes once more and turned away, her heavy breathing indicating exhaustion. Miri looked at her stomach and was astonished to see that the wound had somehow completely healed. She wanted to thank the old woman, but her eyelids suddenly felt heavy and sleep quickly overtook her.

  When Miri woke up once more, it was nearly morning. The fire was still smoldering as she sat up and noticed Neth sitting cross-legged nearby, doing a meditative ritual. Miri tried to stand up and nearly fell back down on her first try. Her legs were still weak and her mind was unfocused. She gathered up her Vis, and used it to instill discipline in her body’s coordination. When she tried standing up a second time, she succeeded. Looking around, she noticed her backpack was lying on the ground nearby.

  Neth opened her eyes but remained seated. “The boy is not far from here. He has finally used his Vis, and he is hiding from the little Magus.”

  Miri looked at her arm. The gash from Slane’s sword had also been healed, leaving a faint scar. The third wound in her leg was also fully healed. “Why are you helping me?”

  “You are no longer the protector of the Arum Navar. You are now the protector of that boy. You must get him to Lethe, for it is fated that the great change cannot come about without him. The child is not a mere Magus, he is something more.”

  Miri began to sob as she sat back down. “I am no one’s protector. I have failed my tribe, and I have failed my friends. Nyx, Jinn, and Devos are all dead because of me. My mother is dead because of me.”

  “This place has not had any visitors for almost two thousand cycles,” Neth said. “Your party was the first, then the Magi came after you. You led a long journey across dangerous lands in which many have tried before and failed, for that you are to be commended.”

  Miri shook her head slowly. The tears continued. “I led them all to die. How can you extol someone who did that?”

  “Do not let their deaths be in vain,” Neth said. “You have come this far, it is not too late to fulfill your task.”

  “My task? All I did was to follow in the footsteps of an old legend, a tale that might not even be true! And now my friends are dead, and the boy I was tasked to safeguard is in the hands of my enemy. How could I possibly do anything else?”

  “The tale of Kaelr was not a mere legend, it was based on events that really happened,” Neth said. “Before he ventured onwards to the last city, he left me here, for he knew I could no longer be by his side.”

  Miri was shocked. “What?”

  “I am sure you have listened to many tales about him, but there were many stories that were never written down,” Neth said. “So many memories, all lost through time.”

  Miri crawled forward, closer to her. She looked at the old woman closely. “Y-you knew Kaelr the Magus?”

  “I fought against him once,” the old woman said wistfully. “I had nearly killed him. Just as I was about to deliver the deathblow, I happened to look into his mind just to understand why he would even dare to initiate the great rebellion. What I found astonished me, and I spared him.”

  Miri’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You are a Gorgon, are you not?”

  Neth turned and looked at the smoldering fire. “I was one of the first three. We ruled the world for countless generations. They say that you get wiser through time, but that is not true. Memories fade, days simply come and go. In the end, it is but a grey, dreary existence. I can no longer count the passing of cycles. The world is nothing but blinding dust and lifeless stone. My one longing was to be reunited with him, but he told me I must wait. I had to stay here until the child and his mother crossed the silent lands and ventured forth into this forsaken place.”

  Miri remembered Devos’s final tale. “The teller of my tribe said that when Kaelr had died at the gates of Lethe, he had foretold of a boy and his mother would come and succeed at the task he had set out to do. But he never mentioned what that task was.”

  “You must take the boy to the Maker of Entropy,” Neth said. “For he lies beyond the last city.”

  “If you were one of the first Gorgons and Kaelr started the rebellion, why did you help him? What thoughts did you discern from his mind that made you change your ways?”

  The old woman smiled. “Love. When I delved into his mind, I realized that he rebelled out of love. It was in that instance I joined his cause and fought my other sisters. I helped to make him a better Magus, and he aided me to become a more powerful Gorgon. In the end, we vanquished the others, but we both knew there was one final task to be done.”

  Miri was still trying to piece it all together. “What task was that? What could this Maker do?”

  “The Maker of Entropy is the key to restoring this world to its former splendor,” Neth said. “The lands around us were once covered in oceans of water, teeming with life. The dry areas were fertile, with beasts and plants. There was food for all and people would thrive. A great catastrophe had happened, and its true cause was lost in the eons of time. The world must be reborn again or else the remaining ones will die.”

  “So that was why Kaelr decided to travel to Lethe after winning the great rebellion? To restore the world as it was?”

  Neth nodded. “But we knew he was not to be the chosen one, it would be someone else. Kaelr tasked me to await the mother, while he went ahead to prepare the way. I have been here ever since.”

  “Were you the one in our dreams?”

  “In a sense, it was I who had guided you to the Black Redoubt,” the old woman said. “I used my Vis to send messages into your dreams. I stayed hidden away when you battled the Magi, and waited until the remaining one took the boy. Now that I have restored your broken body, my task is done.” Neth began to shudder, and she fell over by her side.

  Miri cried out as she quickly moved over to where the old woman lay. She used her mindsense to try and probe for any injuries, but her mental tendrils were telling her that Neth was already dead, it seemed that her body functions had ceased a long time ago, and it was only the Gorgon’s Vis that had somehow kept her alive. “Wait,” Miri said as she cradled Neth’s head in her arms. “You cannot die! There are still so many questions I must ask you!”

  Neth’s eyes opened slightly. Her lifeforce was slowly draining away. “At last I shall join my beloved Kaelr. It has been far too long. Our lives have been separated by uncountable cycles. It is good to finally let go. I do not know what lies beyond the black entryway, but I go with no further regrets.”

  “Please,” Miri pleaded. “This Magus I fought. He defeated me with ease. I-I am not sure I could prevail against him and save the boy.”

  The old woman smiled faintly
. “Your own strength lies within you. The full power of Vis is largely untapped among its practitioners. Let it flow through you like the wind, and you will find a way. Do not let the limits of your body distract you from your discipline, for the mind is always superior to flesh.” With a trembling finger, she pointed to the far side of the room. Miri turned and saw a spear lying against the wall. The shaft of the spear had a smoky grey color, while the blade and tip were inky black. “That was Kaelr’s weapon. It is made of a substance called korban firb, a material whose manufacture was lost through time. It will neither rust, nor break. A final gift to you. Use it wisely.”

  Miri held her breath. The spear seemed like it was made from another time. From her vantage point, it looked like the weapon’s shaft had some sort of coating on it. “That was Kaelr’s spear? He left it here for me? But how could he have known?”

  But when she looked down, Miri realized that the old woman was already dead. With trembling lips, Miri gently placed Neth’s head back onto the ground and pulled back the hood to cover her face. She knelt down and said a silent prayer to the gods as the sun began its ascent over the horizon. The fire had also burned out, leaving only faint traces of ash.

  Miri stood up, walked over to the side of the room and picked up the spear. It was slightly longer than what she was used to, but it also seemed lighter and more maneuverable. Strange glyphs were carved along the shaft and the flat part of the spearhead. Taking the spear with her, Miri bent down and picked up her backpack before leaving the room.

  The place seemed familiar to her now as she walked down several flights of stone steps, back to the ground level of the redoubt. It was there that she walked into the hallway where the previous battle had taken place. Miri walked over to Nyx’s body and knelt down once more, carefully arranging the girl’s arms and placing them together. She then took one of the tattered cloaks on the floor and placed it over the body. Miri made a second prayer to the gods before she finally left the pyramid for good.