The Age of Darkness: Wrak-Wavara: The Age of Darkness Book 1 (The Etera Chronicles Series Two - Wrak-Wavara: The Age of Darkness)

by Leigh Roberts

  Chuckling, Ushca came to join her mate at the fire.

  “Why are you laughing?” he asked.

  “I do not know what is up, but Nox’Tor almost ran me over in his rush to get somewhere.”

  Straf’Tor laughed. “He just told me he wishes to pair with Kyana.”

  “He wishes to pair with her? I thought the females had the right to choose,” she frowned.

  “It is time for our culture to return to what it was. We have deviated too far from the old ways, so the females must give up their right to choose.”

  “What about the agreement reached back at Kthama? The trade of females between communities?”

  “And who would we trade with? The Akassa? That was the point of the division—that what is left of the Mothoc blood would remain as pure as it can. We know of no other Mothoc communities. If they exist, they are far out of our reach.”

  Ushca conceded. “You are right, although there are not that many of us. But within time—”

  “Yes, within time. But the challenges of today are sufficient to handle. I will pray that the future Leaders of Kayerm will come up with a solution. When I announce the pairing of Nox’Tor and Kyana, I will also announce my decision to eliminate the females’ right to choose.”

  Ushca was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Straf, I do not wish to challenge your decision, but please reconsider. If you give the males the right to choose, where does that put our females in the hierarchy, considering that the rebel males are also living with us at Kayerm.”

  Straf’Tor turned to look at his mate. “You are right. I almost made a terrible mistake. Until our community is at peace, the females must retain the right to choose. But eventually, I hope to return the choice to the males.”

  Ushca let out a huge sigh.

  Later that evening, Straf’Tor let his son know that he had changed his mind, and for the time being, the females would retain the right to choose. The next morning Straf’Tor called an assembly.

  Straf’Tor waited for everyone to exit Kayerm. He walked up a nearby hillside so they could all see and hear him more clearly. It was just after first-light and cool with the welcome morning breezes of fall. As they assembled in front of them, he noticed the rebels collected off to themselves at the back. Ushca saved me from making a huge mistake.

  He signed for Nox’Tor and Kyana to come forward. Everyone fell silent. “This morning, I am announcing that Kyana has chosen Nox’Tor as her mate.” Then, placing a hand on Kyana’s back and the other on Nox’Tor’s, he drew them to face each other. All those assembled began the pairing chant, words spoken in unison. When it stopped, Straf’Tor turned to Kyana.

  “Do you choose Nox’Tor over all others?” he asked.

  Kyana placed her hand over Nox’Tor’s heart and said, “I, Kyana, daughter of the House of ’Nul, choose you over all others.”

  Then Straf’Tor turned to his son and asked, “Do you accept Kyana as your own, over all others?”

  Nox’Tor gently placed his hand on Kyana’s head and said, “I Nox’Tor, son of the House of ‘Tor, choose you over all others.”

  Nox’Tor and Kyana embraced before turning and smiling at the group. Many congratulated them as they moved out into the crowd.

  Straf’Tor allowed his gaze to flick from his son to the rebels who were grouped together at the back, whispering among themselves.

  With the ceremony over, Ushca joined her mate and followed his gaze. “Trouble brewing?” she asked.

  “I do not think it ever stopped. Even after all this time, they are not merging in with any of the Mothoc, and certainly not with the Sassen. There are still decided lines of demarcation, and as long as Ridg’Sor keeps them riled up, there will never be peace.”

  Just then, Ridg’Sor looked up and caught Straf’Tor’s gaze. A wry smile crossed his lips before he went back to talking with Salus, Laborn, and the others in his troop.

  Later, Ridg’Sor approached Straf’Tor, who was sitting at the evening fire. As the rebel drew closer, Wosot looked over at Straf’Tor, who motioned for him to stay back.

  “Straf’Tor. I would speak with you.”

  “You already are,” Straf’Tor replied. “What is your request?”

  “How do you know I am going to ask for something? You assume much.”

  “I assume you are going to ask me for something because that is always why you seek me out. It has been the one constant since we came here. You wish for some further adjustment to the rules, I assume?”

  Ridg’Sor kicked away one of the firepit stones. “And why should I not? You came here and took over. This was our home first, and now you give us no consideration at all.”

  “Kayerm was never yours. Kthama’s scouts discovered it when we were overrun with our numbers because of the males’ inability to control their mating practices. It was open to the Mothoc and now to the Sassen. We have been willing to live with you in peace, but you seem unable to accept your position.”

  “My position is Adik’Tar. You are the intruder.”

  Straf’Tor sighed. He picked up a stick and started poking the fire. “After all this time, still the same complaint; I am tired of this. Make your request or leave. Now.”

  “We need access to females.”

  “The females live among us as they have for centuries. They are no longer living in a separate cave system as they were at Kthama. I do not see your problem.”

  “They will not have anything to do with us.”

  “And you cannot imagine why. Very well, let me make it clear. You have as much of a chance to woo a female as any male, and always have had. It is the female’s choice with whom to pair. If you and your males do not have enough sense to know how to be pleasing and helpful to win their hearts, then there is nothing I can do to assist you,” Straf’Tor said.

  “You have warned them off of us.”

  “I have done no such thing. They do not need me to warn them away from you. Anyone can see how angry you are. Females desire a pleasant mate. One who can provide, who has a reasonable personality. Who will make her feel safe in the world and look after her offling. I see none of those qualities in any of your males. Oh—and clean yourselves once in a while. You stink something terrible.”

  “‘Rok you,” shouted Ridg’Sor.

  Straf’Tor stood to face Ridg’Sor. “Lose your anger. Accept my rule. Accept the Sassen. Make the best of the situation. The path you are choosing leads only to conflict and more division. There is nowhere else for you to live. The sentries scouted the entire area long ago to find this place, but if you are krell-bent on leaving, then go. I certainly will not stop you.”

  “Qa!” spat out Ridg’Sor and stormed away.

  Wosot had sat silently watching, and he now stood up.

  “He will never accept you as his Leader. Why do you not expel or kill him? Perhaps with him out of the way, the others will back down.”

  “There are so few Mothoc left. We need as many of us as we can gather. Even the loss of one would diminish our ability to diversify our bloodlines. You are right; he will never back down. But should it end up being a fight to the death, he will become a martyr to his followers and inflame their anger more. Come,” Straf’Tor continued. “Sit back down with me. The evening is still young, and the stars are just starting to come out. Let us forget our troubles for a moment and give thanks to the Great Spirit for the blessings we do have.”

  Ridg’Sor had stormed into Kayerm and called out for his group. “Salus, Laborn, Ser’Hun, Kaisak, Gard, and all the rest of you. Meet me at first light down by the Great River.”

  The next morning, Ridg’Sor stood on the river bank waiting for his group to join him. The sound of the water rushing by, the damp smell of the leaves, the calls of the songbirds—all were lost on him; his mind was elsewhere. He turned as he heard footfalls.

  “Gather round; I will be quick. I am done waiting, and I have a plan.”

  Chapter 8

  Pan bounced Liru on her knee, causing t
he tiny offling to burble with delight. Then Pan set her down on the floor, and Liru scampered as fast as she could toward E’ranale, who grabbed her and kissed her little belly over and over, which made Liru giggle more.

  “She is such a happy little thing. She brings me joy each day,” said Pan. “Well, and challenges too. I have had to move everything up and away now that she is so mobile.” Pan fell silent. “Mother, this makes me want my own offling. But how would I ever be paired?” she asked.

  E’ranale smiled at hearing this from her daughter. Finally. The role of the Guardian was demanding, and having a mate would lighten the load.

  “We will ask your father to speak with the Leaders’ Council. They are in charge of pairings now. As a Guardian, you might not be bound by their selection, but they might have an idea of some suitable males for you to consider.”

  “I may not be bound by their selection?” Pan asked.

  “The council has decided that Leaders are allowed to choose their own mates. And I think it is appropriate that the exception should also apply to a Guardian.” E’ranale stood and put Liru on her hip. “Coming?”

  They found Moc’Tor outside Kthama, overlooking the verdant fall landscape that stretched out to each horizon. He turned as he heard them approach, and reaching out, he gave his mate a kiss on the cheek.

  “Your daughter has an announcement,” she said as she kissed him in return.

  “Oh?” Moc’Tor smiled, realizing by their actions that this was good news.

  “Having Liru to raise, I know now that I wish to be paired.”

  Moc’Tor exchanged a quick glance with his mate, and seeing the smile on her face made his own heart soar. “This is a big decision, Pan. Congratulations. Do you have a male in mind?”

  “Mother and I were just speaking of this. Am I not bound by the Leaders’ Council’s choice for me?” Pan asked.

  “I do not believe that applies to you. How would you like to proceed?” he asked.

  “Mother suggested that perhaps the council Leaders might have some suggestions from their own communities—for my consideration.” She let out a little chuckle.

  “I will bring it up at the next meeting. I promise.”

  Pan threw her arms around her father’s neck and whispered in his ear, “Thank you, Father. I love you so much.” She took Liru from her mother and practically skipped away.

  Once Pan was out of earshot, E’ranale said, “That is a relief, yes?”

  “Yes. Not only will she have the help of a mate, but she may indeed produce offling.”

  “Surely not another Guardian?”

  “There is no telling, E’ranale. The Great Spirit seems to be full of surprises lately. I am proof of that. We have centuries to live yet, as does Pan, and who knows what the future holds. In the meantime, let us cherish today.”

  Moc’Tor pressed a small red rock into E’ranale’s hand.

  “What is this for?”

  “Just something I found. I thought you might like it.”

  “I do, thank you,” said E’ranale. “It is a piece of red jasper, is it not?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oragur taught me that this stone represents the heart of the Great Spirit and assures us that we are loved and cared for,” E’ranale said with a smile, then her face crinkled up.

  “What is wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Just a little pain. It is gone now.”

  “We have no Healer, and you are in pain? Tell me where.”

  “Moc’Tor, it was a slight twinge, probably a touch of indigestion, which is not unusual,” she answered.

  “Since when?” he asked.

  “Since I am seeded again!” A huge smile crossed her face.

  Moc’Tor took her up in his arms and hugged her. “That is wonderful,” he exclaimed. “You had me worried there.” He placed her back on her feet again.

  “I am glad you are happy, my love. So am I,” she said. “We will have a new offling by the warm weather!”

  Months passed, and it was time for the Leaders’ Council to meet again. Moc’Tor opened with an announcement that his mate E’ranale was with offling, then continued with his daughter Pan’s request.

  “On top of my joy at my mate’s seeding, my daughter, Pan, has stated that she desires to be paired. She is raising Lor Onida’s offling, who was rejected by her father, Oragur, when Lor Onida died. I believe that has helped Pan realize what a great blessing a family is. Although as a female she has the right to choose her mate; she did say, however, that she would be interested in beginning by meeting any choices recommended suitable by the council.”

  The Leaders exchanged glances and nodded. All saw the logic of allowing a Guardian to choose his or her own mate.

  “I am happy for you,” said Cha’Kahn. “But in this circumstance, I assume the male of her choosing would have to relocate to the High Rocks?”

  Moc’Tor nodded. “Yes. She is still undergoing her training, but, regardless, the Guardian must remain here at the High Rocks,” he said. “A Guardian’s duties are tied to a vortex. Although there are others across Etera, there are none as strong that we know of.”

  The other Leaders nodded in understanding.

  “I have several in mind. Would you object to her traveling to meet them?” asked Hatos’Mok from the Deep Valley.

  Moc’Tor signaled for Dochrohan and asked him to fetch Pan.

  After a while, she arrived, Liru on her hip.

  The Leaders stood as Pan entered, and the act of respect was not lost on Moc’Tor.

  “I am very sorry,” she whispered to her father. “I could not find anyone to take Liru.” Pan had never attended a Leaders’ Council meeting, and she looked out at the group and the faces staring back at her, some older, some younger. It must be peculiar to them to see two Guardians at one time, she suddenly realized.

  “I have put to the council your request about suggestions for a possible mate. They have questions, and I could not presume to speak for you,” he answered. “Are you willing to travel to meet prospective males?”

  Pan nodded and stepped forward. “Greetings, Council members. Thank you for allowing me to speak with you today. Your question is fair, and I thank you for your help. From growing up witnessing the blessing that is my father’s union with my mother, I see that not to pair is to miss much of the sweetness of life. But I also know that selecting the right mate is of the highest importance in achieving the kind of bond and mutual support that my parents enjoy. I am willing to travel to meet any suitable males you suggest. I do prefer to start with the Deep Valley and the Far High Hills.”

  “Thank you, Guardian,” said Tres’Sar. “I will send word as soon as I have news.”

  “So will I,” said Hatos’Mok from the Deep Valley.

  “Thank you.”

  As Pan left the meeting, her mind was full. Was she really going to be paired? Have offling of her own? How would she know if he was the right one? How would she select him? A bad pairing could ruin someone’s life—her mother had said it many times— just as a good one could make everything easier. If she could find someone to love who would love her just as it was between her parents— But how? And how much would her stature as a Guardian affect it?

  Before long, word came that both the Far High Hills and the Deep Valley were ready for Pan’s visit. She made arrangements for Liru and prepared to set out.

  “This is your first trip away from home. Do you not wish for one of us to go with you?” asked E’ranale.

  “I saw how they looked at me at the council meeting, Mother. For the first time, it sank in that I have an obligation to meet. It is time I stepped out on my own and started acting like a Guardian,” said Pan. “But I am concerned.”

  E’ranale waited for her daughter to continue.

  “What effect is it going to have that I am a Guardian? When I saw the reaction of the Leaders, it seemed they were almost in awe of me. I do not want my situation to entice someone to pair with me on that basis alone.
”

  “You will know, Pan. Trust yourself. Trust your heart and your guidance. If a male is not what he seems or is concealing his true motives, you will know,” said E’ranale. “And you do not have to decide on one trip. Perhaps if you narrow it down, it would be wise to have them come here to visit before you make a final choice.”

  “How did you know that Father was the one for you? Were you swayed by his being a Guardian?” she asked her mother.

  “His being a Guardian actually made it harder. I knew that, as a Guardian, he would outlive me by centuries. And that as a Guardian, he would have obligations requiring his focus to be on more than me and any family we might have. Add that to his being the Leader’s heir, and it was a difficult decision. Except—" and her voice trailed off.

  “Except what?” Pan asked.

  “Except that despite all the reasons not to pair with him, I could not get him out of my mind. Just being in the same room with him made my heart race. I knew that, despite all the reasons not to accept the offer of being his First Choice, if I refused, I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

  The next morning, Pan set out along the pathway at Kthama’s lowest level, through which the Mother Stream flowed. The exit for each community was well marked, and cozy nooks and alcoves were situated where she could stop for a while as needed. She passed the marker for the small community from which Tarris’Kahn hailed. Story had it that this was the origin of the contagion, which, centuries ago, had nearly wiped out all the Mothoc and had driven them to breed with the Others. As a result, its name had long been struck from mention. Even those who lived there merely referred to it as home.

  Eventually, she reached the exit to the Deep Valley. She followed the path to the surface and looked for the tree breaks that would show her the rest of the way. As she neared the cave entrance, two sentries greeted her.