They continued to look around the small clearing and near the banks of Lake Iris. They noticed horse-tracks upon the sandy bank of the lake, indicating that more than one person were accompanied by a horse. They then decided to take a short rest, refilling their canisters with the fresh lake water and stretching their limbs.
“We must make a camp soon, Sire, the night comes soon,” Sir Hawkington said as he took a swig of some water.”
“We’ll continue south for a little while longer, then make a camp. The wolves may come back here in the night,” King Julpen said as his eyes wondered across the rippling lake. The lake was calm and dark.
“Yes, Sire,” Sir Hawkington said as he rubbed his hand over his bald head.
He made his way to the other men who were sitting and talking amongst each other. They all appeared weary and insensible, like drained shadows. Sir Hawkington announced to them what their plan was and to get themselves ready. The men got up to get their things together, then they were off to make their way further towards the south.
CHAPTER 17
The Book, The Tree And The King
As the hidden sun made its slow path across the sky, Lord Fernund paced back and forth in the dimly lit study-chamber of the castle. Many thoughts passed through his head as he dwelled on the kingdom’s current state. He hoped that his daughter and the princess were safe and found—and that King Julpen would return back to the kingdom safely. Lord Fernund already held the stress of the kingdom on his shoulders while the king was away, and he didn’t think he was mentally ready for anymore bewildering uncertainty.
He had just come home from a long journey of selling and buying goods a couple of days prior and was now in a precarious situation. He was the Marquis of Minslethrate by noble blood and a very wealthy business man—he had no idea how to rule a kingdom… The people of Minslethrate respected him greatly because of his blood-line and the large amount of money and land he possessed.
The Ducre’ family was very powerful and wealthy and one of the richest families in Minslethrate. But even though he was just a wealthy business man and traveler, he wanted to do something to help the king and the kingdom of Minslethrate—even if that was to be a temporary sovereign. But impermanent is what Lord Fernund hoped it was.
“Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs it down—but encouraging words makes it glad,” a low and kind voice said from behind Lord Fernund. It was Master Odwa.
The old man smiled lightly amongst his long white beard. He was hunched over slightly and walked with his hands behind his back. His long white beard went to his waist and his glistening white hair was topped with a chaperon hat. The dark-blue fabric of the hat was piled high on his head which shadowed his face. His long dark robes dragged on the tiled floor and seemed to just hang from his small frame.
“And what would those words be, Master Odwa,” The Marquis said as he turned towards the old man.
“…Strength. I see strength in your eyes. Love—I see love in your heart. Love is light—light is God.” The old man said as he walked towards Lord Fernund.
Master Odwa was old and frail and kind. His words were always filled with knowledge and uplifting kindness. And even though he was ancient, his senses were like that of a young man.
Lord Fernund nodded at his answer, then looked out of the massive windows which looked out to the castle gardens.
“It is strange how during these troubling and dark times—that even the smallest glimpse of light yearns to exists—like a small flame in the darkest of night,” Lord Fernund said, still looking out into the gardens.
“He uncovers deep things out of darkness, and brings the shadow of death to light…,” Master Odwa said as he placed his frail white hand on Lord Fernunds shoulder.
Lord Fernund turned to the old man, looking into his old gray eyes.
“How do you stay so positive amongst these uncertain times—as if no bad can happen? Your tenacious words never falter. The clouds out there in the sky grow thicker and darker at every growing moment and it is as if you do not see it,” Fernund said, looking away from the light-filled old man. “Can you not see what is going on in this kingdom—in this world? Can you not see the state of darkness that we all are in? What do you know that I do not?”
Master Odwa was quiet for a moment, then looked out of the great windows beside Lord Fernund. The view of the garden was grim, but beautiful—like a winter’s afternoon. They both stood for a moment, viewing the nature like a mysterious painting.
“…Such a man will not be overthrown by evil circumstances. God’s constant care of him will make a deep impression on all who see it. He does not fear bad news nor live in dread of what may happen, for he is settled in his mind that the God of Light will take care of him… That is why he is not afraid—but can calmly face his foes…,” the old man said in a low and peaceful tone.
Just then a blue bird perched on a marble statue that stood near the window. The vibrant blue color of the bird stood out amongst the gray atmosphere like a blotch of blue color on a shadowy painting.
“Do you understand Lord Fernund?” the old man asked, watching the bird.
Lord Fernund was just quiet.
“Do you see that blue bird perched on the statue?” Master Odwa asked, standing still with his hands placed behind his back.
The bird flew from the statue to the ground, pecking at something in a twitching motion. It hopped around the earth a couple of times, pecked at it some more, then flew off into the sky—free spirited with no worries of that gray day.
“This bird—it does not sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns and yet the Father of Light feeds it… Are you not of more value than it?” Master Odwa glanced at him, his countenance did not seem as stern and anxious as it did when Master Odwa first arrived into the room. “The stress that you carry on your shoulders, Marquis, should not destroy you… Do you think that the God that takes care of that blue bird cannot take care of your worries? Do you think that our God of light that cares for that small blue bird, will not take care of our kingdom—or us?”
Lord Fernund glanced at Master Odwa again, pursing his lips.
“True faith is so strong,” the old man said, “like a mighty river. Nothing can stand in its way—not even the highest mountain or deepest ocean… Faith is that small flame you mentioned—that yearns to burn even in the darkest of night… Faith is my secret… That is why those dark clouds do not fluster me—that is why I am not frightened by the current situation that the kingdom is in… Come with me Marquis,” the old man said as he silently began to walk away with his hands still behind his curved back. “I shall show you something that should never be kept a secret…”
The Marquis watched the old man as he walked away, but then began to follow him. They walked quietly through the dim halls of the castle to the great library. There was no one around the dark and gloomy halls. Usually the castle would be bursting with busy servants but that day the castle was dead. The stained-glass windows did not pour in the colorful light of the day and even the stones of the castle were not as bright as they would be on a normal day; the gloominess of the castle colored them dark. Everything seemed dead, as if the world and everything upon it had changed. But the old man seemed to be the only light in the dark castle. Dead and silent was the atmosphere all around them. The only noises were that of the sounds of their footsteps bouncing off of the cold stone walls and the crackle of the torches they passed.
They entered into the grand library, passing through a great archway. The magnificent archway was guarded by two statues which stood on both sides of the library entrance. The marble statues were tall and elegant and appeared to be scribes, looking intensely into the large books that they held. Walking into the library was like walking into a whole other world in the castle. The ceiling of the massive chamber was tall and constructed of beautiful arches. The arches went so high that they almost vanished into the tops of the now darkened chamber. Many different sorts of books consisting of many different siz
es lined the walls and rested on tall ornamental book shelves. The massive walls contained beautiful balconies which were lined with many more books and finely crafted book shelves. The large candelabrums that hung from the ceiling were not lit, and silently dangled like giant spiders from thick cords.
The only sources of light was that from random lit torches that stuck out from the walls and from the soft gray light that was filtered in through the massive stain-glassed windows. They stood tall, the beautifully crafted windows, directly across from the entryway of the library, consisting of many warm-colors. The image of a great leafless tree was crafted in the central window. The span between the entryway and the windows was vast, seeming to go on forever. Lord Fernund silently followed Master Odwa towards the attractive windows, seeming to be transfixed by its colors—especially the magnificent tree that stretched out its jagged limbs. The tree stretched its leafless branches all throughout the glass, sectioning off the many different colored pieces. The tree had two main arms that stretched out from both sides and a central trunk that went from the roots of the tree to the tops of the window. If the sun-light were to shine through it, one would be blown away by the image of a great jagged tree with mighty arms, shrouded by the colors of warm amber and golden light. The colors would have shown through brightly, flooding the library with a soft orange glow and would pour onto a small table which held a large book.
“Do you know what this is?” Master Odwa said in a low voice as they approached the small, tall standing table.
The table sat in the center of the large central window and had a large book sitting on the top of it. The book appeared to be ancient and worn. The book’s cover was blank and the old pages were bound in old brown leather.
“It is a book,” Lord Fernund said, staring down at the unattractive thing.
He did not look impressed or interested.
Master Odwa was quiet as he placed his frail white hand on the dark-brown cover.
“This, Marquis, is not just any book. This relic contains the secrets of life… This book contains words of truth—these words are what makes faith grow and the flame of the heart to become a great fire—if you allow it to do so. This fire will become stronger than any light.” The old man began to become slightly excited as he spoke. “This is The Legendary Book of Light,” he said as his slanted, old gray eyes sparked open as if he had electricity running behind them.
Lord Fernund quietly came closer to the book, examining it as if he was in disbelief. The book did not look exquisite or important at all, and looked rather unsightly compared to the more attractive books that sat on the shelves all around them.
“I do not know much about this book—but I imagined it to appear more powerful than this,” Lord Fernund said as he slowly opened it.
The opened book released the scent of ancient, stale pages. The book creaked slightly as he split the book in the center. The pages were thin and of the color of golden wheat and the words were old and hand-written. The writing was not blotchy or poorly written, but neat and perfectly spaced out, perfectly aligned.
“Power is not in its appearance—but in its message,” Master Odwa said as he pointed to the ancient Minslethratian writing that covered the old pages. “Power is not the book—but rather what will happen when you dwell on its words. This mysterious book was written in two parts by many great men. The first half is called the Ancient Light and the second half is called the New Light. The Ancient Light was written by many great prophets and leaders about their righteous walk in life and the laws of light that they followed. The New Light was written about The Great King of Light and his existence and walk upon this earth—it teaches how to live a righteous life—and how the blood of Christ, The Great King of Light, saves us…”
The words in the book were old and unrecognizable, used by the ancient ancestors of Minslethrate.
“Many years ago, during the rule of the late King James, I assisted his majesty, as well as many eager scribes, in the production of the numerous copies of this book,” Master Odwa said as he gently rubbed his old hand across its smooth old pages. He then slowly closed it, doing the same thing to the rough leather cover. “It took the scribes many years to translate this book—and after it was done, the copies of the book were built…” Master Odwa paced a little as he spoke, with his hands clasped once again behind his curved back. “You may have been too young to remember this, but these glorious copies were burnt in great angry fires—by the late King James’ wife—Queen Karnidge, after he died.”
Master Odwa glanced at the Marquis every now and then as he spoke.
“I vaguely remember… I spent most of my young life at the manor—my father had me sheltered most of my life…,” Lord Fernund said in a low tone, as if he were ashamed.
“Aye, Marquis,” he said with raised eye-brows, “you would have been the same age as his majesty, King Julpen. I was a young man, about the same age as King James, and was there assisting his majesty every step of the way... I was here in the castle when King James died… He was a mighty king and friend. And I was here, when her majesty, Queen Karnidge, took the crown… She had me imprisoned and beaten during her reign. My life began to hang on by a thread during those times—but my faith and heart beat fierce and free. She tried to smite the light within my heart—her majesty wished to suffocate my soul… So during her short five years of her reign, I was imprisoned for my strong beliefs. You see, Marquis, she could not break me—the light within me was too strong and I was protected. I had faith in my God, the great God of Light who could move mountains—and still does…
“I still assisted the young prince Julpen as he snuck deep within the jail-cell chambers of the castle to see me—to give me a drink of water and bread to eat.” As Master Odwa spoke, he looked up into the beautiful stain-glass window. “God put it in my heart—I wanted so strongly for the prince to be influenced by His words—and that he did…
“When King James died, I instructed the young prince to bury this book deep within the castle gardens—and he did—to hide the book from the wicked queen. I remember so vividly how a being of light came to me the eve of King James’ death—and informed me that Queen Karnidge would begin the burnings of the books that following morning. The being of light told me to instruct young Julpen to put the original book into a small chest and bury it beneath a certain tree deep in the castle gardens. For five years this book rested beneath the earth, and after the death of Queen Karnidge, we dug it up—and had it restored…” A small smile crept over the old man’s face.
“It is an intriguing story indeed—but why do you tell me this?” the Marquis asked, looking at the old man.
“…I tell you this so that you can see how strong faith is… This book has been through many periods of devastation—and still you see it here, right before your eyes. This book is meant to be spread—like fresh and living water amongst a dry field. These fields are so thirsty for a drink—and dying. These fields are men and this living water is God...,” the old man said with passion in his eyes. “This book is the very word of God. This book is a constant reminder that The Great King of Light is the light of the world…
“During those black days when Queen Karnidge burned the many copies of this book, as well as innocent light-loving people—she was fooled. You see, many hidden copies traveled out, away from Minslethrate and her evil grasp… Those copies were carried by mighty men who traveled to great cities like Troaaz and Masedonnia, which lay on the boundaries of far off lands—also to nearby kingdoms like Hanon. Those copies are planting seeds in the hearts of man…
“And strangely I was fortunate, only imprisoned and beaten and not burned to death like the many innocent people of those days… My life was spared—by the mighty hands of God! I was sentenced to death after I was imprisoned for those many years. I still remember how the queen told me that she wanted me to know that I helped kill the innocent people by helping in the production of this book. That is why she only had me imprisoned—so that I wo
uld be constantly told by her every day, how many people were burned, how many people died because of me. Then after five years of this emotional torment, I would be burned myself. She told me that she had won… But you see—she has not. My God has won! Yes people died—but the faith they dwelled on opened a door for them to live in constant light… Queen Karnidge strangely became deathly ill after five years and died.
“So you see, this faith is so strong, that even the darkest hands of evil cannot smite it… The God of light is so magnanimous that even in the midst of darkness—he will reveal something that must be made known—just to remind us of his greatness…” Master Odwa grew quiet for a moment as he watched Lord Fernund go into subtle thoughts.
Lord Fernund was still quiet, turning to the old man. “I understand,” Lord Fernund said as he continued to peer down at the old book. After a moment of silence, he looked back up to the stain-glass and gazed at the mighty tree. “You, Master Odwa, are a great man… And I am pleased to know that our king has been influenced by such a mighty man of our God of Light.”
“It is the God of Light—who influences me,” Master Odwa said, looking back at the old book.
“There have been many insidious acts that have attacked this castle and our kingdom,” Lord Fernund said in a low tone, “they are relentless and yearn the day when all of man will submit to darkness… There have been so many attacks by shadowed spirits that it seems that his majesty should have gone mad. But now I know why—because our king is blessed.”
“His majesty is truly blessed, but his heart still continues to become shrouded by sadness and silent anger,” Master Odwa said. “Darkness still continues to cover his heart. The darkness will try to devour what it is intimidated by. Over the years I have consoled him—but his faith is still growing and his spirit is still mending from his devastating childhood. One must be vigilant and steadfast—strong-hearted and true. One must have total faith in the God of Light. Because you see, darkness and evil can become so strong, that it will deceive you and inundate you. One must be strong… The light in your heart must be strong and must be kept full of His precious oil…”
The Last Legend: Awakened Page 30