“The world is all about balance. Balance in all things. It stems from the beliefs the very gods of this universe have bestowed on us of Zanvia. When you struck at the light as you did, and he opened himself up to you, we know the end result of that action. A temporary warping of reality, where you were able to fall in between that gap between the Shadow and the Light. And here, all is transparent. And once you know the truth and accept it in your heart, you may come and go from here as you please. For you have seen this all before.”
Lenthean stared blankly at his father.
“It is like this: once you have been granted entry to the Nethervoid, you have essentially built a bridge for yourself. You recognize the familiar feeling of being encased in the gap of the light’s light and the shadow’s darkness. You will remember that feeling and be able to travel here with ease. You can even bring others with you through your bridge. Let me show you.” Quynn pressed his hand into the glass floor and scooped white clouds out of it.
Quynn motioned with his head for Lenthean to take a look. Lenthean, with curiosity, peered into the white cloud in Quynn’s palms.
---
“They took Ayla?” Valdorath exclaimed.
“Yes, they took her,” Zuthar confirmed. “It has been quite some time since she was captured. They forced her with this—this corruption thing! They tinkered with her thoughts . . . I’ve never seen anything like it! He put his hands on her head and this white stuff came out of her eyes and nose! She woke up a different person!”
Valdorath and Zuthar were in Lenthean’s childhood home. “This is much worse than I thought. I should have never left that boy on his own. He will most certainly fall to this,” Valdorath confessed.
“You left him? You left my boy? Where?” Zuthar asked.
“On the outskirts of the Everwood. I had no idea this would happen, though. I am such a fool; I should have known better . . . ”
“What does that mean, Valdorath? What does it mean when he put his hands on her head like that? She was a different person! She just walked right out of the door without resisting him at all!”
Valdorath lowered his head. “Erendar is corrupting people’s souls to bid his will. He has been doing this for quite some time now. He plans on using her as leverage against Lenthean. That is obvious to me now with this information.”
“Erendar, that Soul Elementalist guy? Is that who was here? The ruler of Der’ Tanel?!” Zuthar exclaimed.
“Yes. Yes, it was.”
“Oh, my heavens,” Zuthar stated, appalled. “What are we gonna do, Valdorath? We can’t just sit here; he’ll take Lenthean too! I can’t lose my boy too!”
“He most certainly will if we don’t come up with something. We need a plan. I know exactly what Erendar is doing. It is clear as the sun’s rays on the earth what he is doing. He plans on channeling through Lenthean to all the beings of the world. This is why they’ve wanted the Shadow Elementalist all along. And if Lenthean refuses to participate, they will end him. Much like they did his father before him. All that was shrouded in mystery . . . the desire for the Shadow Elementalist’s allegiance all this time . . . it’s all clear now. He’s going to use leverage on the boy to coerce him into participating. Instead of waging wars on people, he will twist their souls into something else entirely. Void of their identities. This is sickening.”
“You know this for sure?” Zuthar wanted an answer.
“Most certainly. He has no other reason to snatch up your sister like that. She was brainwashed, Zuthar. Her soul genuinely believed him and what he told her. That twisted fiend,” Valdorath cursed.
“What must I do? Anything—I’ll do anything to save my boy from harm!” Zuthar cried.
“We need to find a way to . . . A way to . . .”
“What? Spit it out, Valdorath! A way to what?!”
“Have the boy witness truth. Truth for himself.”
“Okay, and how do we do that?”
Valdorath growled with frustration. “There’s no way we’re ever going to be able to pull this off.”
“Valdorath, yes we can! Fill me in! I’ll do anything—anything for my boy!”
Valdorath stroked his thick eyebrows. “We need him to visit the Nethervoid.”
“The Netherwha—?” Zuthar tried, utterly confused.
“The Nethervoid. The barrier between the light and the dark. It’s only accessible if . . . If we . . .”
“What? If we what?!”
“If we cause the light and the dark to collide. And when I say collide, I really mean it. Their physical elements, their Elementalists, their motives . . . We need them at their most opposite to clash with as much potency as we can. I know this, for I have done it before . . . ”
Zuthar laughed and spat a little. “That’s easy! My boy Lenthean is strong! He can do that! He can strike at you with force like you’ve never seen! He’s got quite the slugger!”
“I don’t think you quite understand, Zuthar. We need him to hate. To absolutely hate. To experience unfathomable pain and suffering. Anger beyond comprehension—to the point where the boy is compelled to strike at the light with the intent to end it forever. This is what energy lives within the shadows. It takes a true master of the shadows to be able to feel that without being triggered first.”
Zuthar listened with chills.
Valdorath continued. “And we need me, however, to be humble. To give. To sacrifice. To be willing to love and care for the fate of all things. And to strike back—not in retaliation, but as an opening of my arms to love this hatred for what it is. And . . . And . . .”
Zuthar shook his head, causing his mustache to swing with the movement.“And what?” he asked.
“And to be willing to give the boy a chance at the truth. Even if that means the end of me. Just to care enough to simply give the boy a chance.”
The room was still and quiet.
Zuthar broke the silence. “In order for the boy to find the truth, we need him to hate the light and want to end it?”
“Yes, otherwise, the boy will blindly follow Erendar. Deceived. Perhaps for all time. And the world’s souls will be subjected to maniacal manipulation for Erendar’s twisted ideologies. Because if the boy realizes what he’s actually doing, Erendar will already have him beat. He will threaten to harm his mother. And Lenthean, unfortunately, has a heart of gold. He’s a good kid. He will not let harm befall his mother. Erendar already has him pinned. Zuthar, this issue is bigger than just Ayla. The fate of the world rests on this situation.”
Zuthar looked down, shoulders slumped.
“Will you die?” Zuthar asked, not looking at Valdorath.
“I am afraid it is what must be if we wish the boy to have that chance. Else the world will be soul-less and left in despair.”
Zuthar rose from his chair. “I love that lad. He’s my boy. And I will do anything for him. Anything to keep him from being this tool for Erendar’s plan of controlling the world. Valdorath, I have a plan.”
“And what is that plan, Zuthar?”
“If we need the boy to hate the light, let me go with you. Let me fall, Valdorath. My boy will—”
“He’ll what?” Valdorath interrupted.
“He will hate the light then. He will hate you then. If you kill me, Lenthean will surely strike at you in this way you describe. With hatred!” Zuthar confessed.
The two stared into each other’s eyes.
Zuthar continued, “I hate to hurt the lad, but if it means saving his life, the world’s lives, I will do whatever it takes to give him a chance. Take me to the end. Take me to the end with you. Valdorath, let me fall. He will surely strike at you then.”
Valdorath rose from his chair. The two gripped each other’s forearms firmly. “For the lad,” Valdorath said. “To my Shadowling.” Valdorath put a strong arm on Zuthar’s shoulder. “Together, Zuthar, this will not be the end. It will be the beginning.”
---
Lenthean fell to his knees. Guilt, shame, and anguish
consumed him. “They knew?” Lenthean said. “They gave their lives because of me?!” Lenthean cried.
Quynn placed a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. “There is no need to feel shame, my son. They gave themselves freely so you could have a chance to see the world for what it really was. They wanted you to see the world through an unfiltered eye. Without the humans telling you to believe their way . . . without the Der’ Tanellians to believe their way . . . whatever people it may be, they wanted you to see it for yourself. In hopes you would see truth, and with it, decide what you wish to do for the world.”
Lenthean pulled away from his father and walked away. “Can you not see?!” Lenthean shouted. “Can you not see they died because of my naivete? Because I was a fool? I was too STUPID to realize what was actually happening around me? Am I blind?”
Quynn trudged toward his son once more. “My son, they both knew . . . they both knew what they were doing. And they willingly did so. For you. And now here is your chance. What will you make of it?”
“I’ll kill him,” Lenthean growled.
Quynn turned his son to face him. “I am not here to tell you to be here nor there. But you must know, no one has an evil heart. No one.”
“Are you joking me?” Lenthean barked. “Erendar and his insane brothers have wicked hearts! They’re the most evil of them all! Invading, massacring, soul-corrupting deviants! They’re as evil as they come! Every last one of them! What Valdorath told Zuthar in that memory was true; Erendar already has me beat. What am I supposed to do?”
Quynn still held the white mist in his hand. He motioned his son to take another look. “Come, I have one last thing to show you.” Lenthean peered into the mist once more. “What do you see?” Quynn asked the boy.
“I see . . . I see a . . .”
“What is it you see?”
“I see a boy.”
“Yes, go on.”
“A young boy. He’s scared.”
“And what else?”
“He’s . . . He’s getting hit.”
“Mmhmm.”
“He’s bleeding. And he’s . . . He’s protecting someone. He’s protecting two people, actually.”
“And how old would you say they are?”
“The boy looks . . . perhaps twelve. And the other two are younger than that. But not by much.”
“And who is hitting him?”
“Five older boys. Much, much older. They are probably my age. They look . . . They look . . .”
“Wealthy? Entitled? Human?” Quynn added.
“Yeah. Yeah, they do.”
Quynn asked, “Who do you think this is, Lenthean? Who do you think the twelve-year-old boy is in this memory?”
“I really couldn’t say,” he replied.
“This is the memory of Erendar. And there he is, protecting the ones he loves from harm. His two brothers—Aderan and Gargonath—are in the back. They quiver in fear. But Erendar, while outmatched, does whatever he can to protect the ones he loves. We all come from the same roots, Lenthean. Not a single heart is evil; some are only torn or broken. Do you understand?”
Lenthean pondered his words. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I do.”
Quynn smiled. It was genuine and warm. Quynn’s Elementalist armor faded into thin air, and his clothes appeared on his body in all silky-white. He was barefoot now, and his hair slowly changed hues to strawberry blonde from its original pitch-black. The black tattoo on his arm dissipated in the light.
He smiled once more and waved to Lenthean then turned and walked down the infinite corridor.
“Wait, Father!” Lenthean called out. Lenthean ran after him. Even though the boy ran, his father’s pace took him into the distance faster than the boy could ever run.
Lenthean’s heart was filled with anxious energy. “Where are you going, Father?” the boy cried. His father was quickly fading in the distance, waving goodbye as he moved away. And before he knew it, his father vanished in the light of the Nethervoid. “Dad!” Lenthean called out one last time as he came to a halt.
His father was gone, just like that.
His father’s words and his entire experience in the Nethervoid made Lenthean realize what Valdorath and Zuthar were trying to achieve for the boy all along. With this, he said aloud, “I know what I need to do.”
37: The Great Peace-Keeper
Dust filled the air. The battlefield in the distance was quiet. The sun scattered behind the cloud of floating debris. Dirtied people emerged from the crumble, coughing and wheezing. Ayla did too, nearly choking on the thickness of the air, for the taste of dust stuck to her tongue like glue.
Ayla rose to her feet and stumbled forward. “Lenthean?” she called. There was no response. Wood beams and tiles began to shift and shudder as various people began to claw their way out of the debris. Erendar’s head came out of nearby rubble, quickly followed by his ring-adorned hand. He gasped for air and spat repeatedly to clear the mud from his mouth. Other Der’ Tanellian soldiers emerged one by one, and they limped their way over to latch onto Ayla so they could hold her captive again.
Erendar’s hoarse throat let out an exasperated shout: “SHADOW ELEMENTALIST! WHERE ARE YOU?!”
As the dust settled more and more, a silhouette in the fog took shape. His back was turned. Fists were clenched. His physique was that of a teenager.
“My son! You’re alive!” Ayla called out.
Erendar spoke out too. His tone suspiciously shifted from demanding to calm and endearing—much like what the lad had become familiar to before. “Lenthean, my son,” he said with dusty arms outstretched. “We are eternally grateful for you and your sacrifice. You have saved the world single-handedly. Just like you always wanted. With the Elementalist of Light gone, we can save the world from itself and purge the world from greed. We can still make our plan a reality, my son.”
The boy did not speak back to the Soul Elementalist.
Erendar chuckled, almost with nervous energy. Almost. “Lenthean, my son! Do you not see? We did it! Together! We saved the world from violence, death! Greed. Perhaps even sin!” Erendar began to walk toward Lenthean. “Lenthean?” He tried again. Erendar was now within arm's length of the boy. He reached his hand out through the thick, dusty air to rest his palm on the lad’s shoulder. Erendar’s eyes were wide with shock as his hand fell directly through the boy, for Lenthean was not there. The dark, misty form was nothing more than a shadow-trick in the dust.
“It’s a trick!” Erendar announced. “It’s the boy’s shadow! Where is he? Find him!” he commanded his troops. “Grab the mother!” he barked.
Troops scattered in all directions, seeking out the boy. Erendar whipped his head around to find Ayla was gone too. “You IMBECILES!” the Soul Elementalist shouted. “YOU LET THEM ESCAPE! Right out of your own HANDS!” Erendar slapped the two guards across their faces. “FIND THEM!” he shouted, pointing his finger.
“You all right, Momma?” Lenthean asked. The two were pressed up against the wall of a home in an alleyway.
“Yes, I’m all right! It just hurts to walk,” she said.
“I will help you. They won’t be able to find us in air this thick. We need to get out of here, fast!” Lenthean instructed.
“It’s thick . . . that’s a fact. I can hardly breathe,” Ayla told her son.
Through the smog, Lenthean scanned with his eyes as well as he could. He noticed glowing white eyes form just outside of his vision in the midst of the rubble and fog. They were white with a hint of blue to them. Then he noticed another pair of eyes. Then another. Then another. And another.
Down each alleyway, in fact, eyes were appearing. Unblinking as well as intent. They were moving in. Closing in on their targets. Getting closer and closer. The only sound that could be heard was that of pattering footsteps closing in on their position.
Lenthean and Ayla cowered in fear as they were slowly surrounded. The boy looked directly up at the shattered rooftop. Der’ Tanellian guards stood menacingly above them
with white, wispy, glowing eyes. They all had unnatural white fog seeping from them. A booming echoey voice channeled through the corridors of the city.
“Lenthean!” it boomed. It was Erendar, the Soul Elementalist. “You cannot hide. Not even all the shadows of the world can hide you. I will always see you. For I see through all of them.” Civilians and guards of Der’ Tanel were nearly at point of contact now. Their jaws were clicking in an unholy fashion, and they were walking with possessed movements.
“I cannot allow you to shy away from saving the world now, Lenthean,” Erendar declared. “We will save it together. It is for your own good, for Zanvia’s own good. We are so close . . . Don’t let the greed corrupt your soul as it has for so many others.”
Elementalist: The New Inheritance Page 25