Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn

by Tracy A. Akers

“Just stories,” Haskel replied. “Told in some old drawings on the walls of the cave. Eyan found ‘em several months ago and took me to see ‘em.”

  “Stories?” she said. “Why hadn’t you mentioned them before?”

  “Didn’t want to give ye anythin’ else to worry about, what with your children gone and all.”

  “Lord, Haskel. What kind of stories are they?”

  “Stories of the past,” Eileis said. “Maybe even the future.”

  Haskel bristled.

  “You can’t deny what you saw, Haskel,” Eileis said.

  “I don’t know what I saw,” Haskel replied. “All I know is they dispute the Written Word and the Vestry won’t accept ‘em lightly, if they accept ‘em at all.”

  “I agree,” Peadar interjected. “The images could be the ravings of a heretic or a madman.”

  “Or a seer,” Eileis said.

  “Careful,” Vania whispered. She crept to the window and peeked out. “Folks have been comin’ by all mornin’, askin’ Morna and me if we know anythin’. That’s all we need, for someone to overhear us speakin’ of divination.”

  “What do you mean?” Alicine asked.

  “The Vestry is apprehending anyone suspected of the art,” Eileis said. “But I say the Vestry’s nothing but fools. Prophecy is a gift from the Maker. It shouldn’t be hidden away as if it’s something to be ashamed of!”

  “Prophecy is a gift,” Alicine said with a tone of authority. “I learned that in Tearia. But with it comes great responsibility.”

  All eyes turned to her.

  “Dayn’s cousin Reiv had it,” she continued. “He’s a Transcendor.”

  Brenainn leaned in and rested his fist on his thigh. “Watcha be meanin’ there, girl—he’s a what?”

  “A Transcendor. The Word tells us that when we die, if we go to be with Daghadar that is, we gain all knowledge, right?”

  Heads nodded in agreement.

  “Well, Reiv died.”

  “Then how can ye be knowin’ what he knows, eh?”

  Alicine rolled her eyes. “He’s not dead now of course.”

  Brenainn threw his arms into the air. “Would ye mind explainin’ what it is yer tryin’ to explain because I’m sure not understandin’ it.”

  “Reiv drank a potion. It was poison, but he did it to save the life of Kerrik.” Faces remained blank. “Kerrik is a boy who lives on the other side of Aredyrah. He had been injured, and legend said that if someone drank the potion and went to the After Place, they could ask the gods for knowledge.”

  “Gods?” Uaine said in his usual curt tone.

  “Yes, gods,” Alicine said. “So Reiv drank it and died. But he came back to life and when he came back he knew things, all kinds of things. And one of those things was an ingredient that could make a medicinal to save Kerrik.”

  “Do ye think the body in the cave, assumin’ he, or she, was the artist of the drawings, could have been a Transcendor?” Ionhar asked. He had been quiet thus far, but now seemed genuinely intrigued by what Alicine had to say.

  “Perhaps,” she replied. “The drawings indicate knowledge that we are already aware of, but it also suggests things we don’t know, or don’t want to know.”

  “Such as?” Peadar said.

  “There’s no denying the paintings are old. Yet they show things that happened recently, and some that are happening now.”

  Uaine scoffed. “I saw nothing in the cave that depicted any such thing.”

  “What about the people being burned at the stakes?” Dayn said.

  “The very same thing happened after the Purge,” Uaine countered.

  “Aye, tis true,” Brenainn said.

  “What about the migration of the Tearians to the valley?” Dayn added.

  “Who’s to say that didn’t happen generations ago?” Peadar said. “Those could be demons that crossed over durin’ the War o’ Konyl.”

  “But the image showed Reiv leading the people there,” Alicine said.

  “This Reiv person you speak of,” Uaine said. “Why are you so certain the image we saw is of him? Could it not be someone else? An ancestor perhaps?”

  “Could be,” Dayn conceded, “but there are images of him all over the walls. Reiv is a Transcendor, which makes him a vessel of Aredyrian history. If the person in the cave was a Transcendor also, he would have known about the coming of Reiv. And if Reiv leads our world to greater things, isn’t it possible the artist in the cave wanted us to know about it?”

  “So what you’re sayin’ is this Reiv fellow could be headin’ our way as we speak?” Brenainn said.

  “And bringing demons with him if the images are to be believed,” Uaine said.

  “I told you,” Dayn insisted. “There are no demons. If Reiv is leading people to the valley, then his reasons are peaceful ones.”

  “Dayn,” Alicine asked anxiously. “Do you think something bad has happened in Tearia?”

  Dayn shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope not, but—”

  “Well something bad is happening here,” Eileis interrupted. “The mountain’s awakening, and people are dying for it.”

  “If something similar is happening in Tearia,” Alicine said with concern, “then Reiv and his followers might be trying to escape a similar fate. He knows of the valley; he’s the one who told us about it in the first place. Could they be seeking refuge there?”

  “When we left, everything was calm,” Dayn said thoughtfully. “The Jecta were at peace with Tearia, and all Reiv wanted was to lead a normal life. We haven’t been away that long. Could so much have gone wrong in such a short time?”

  “They’re just drawings!” Uaine stressed.

  “And the Written Word is just words,” Eileis said. “Who’s to say there’s more truth in one than the other?”

  Uaine’s face grew stern. “Watch what you say! The Vestry could tie you to the stake for it.”

  “And who’s going to tell them I said it? You?” she countered.

  “Enough,” Peadar ordered. “It could take decades to interpret those images, just as it took decades to interpret the Written Word.”

  “Don’t forget,” Dayn said. “Whether the Written Word was given to us by the Maker or another source, the words were still set to parchment by men. They were interpreted by men and transcribed by men. You know there are passages that were not included in the final texts. There were many versions until the Vestry settled on the one we study now. Who’s to say it’s the one true version.”

  “And who’s to say the drawings in the cave aren’t lies?” Uaine replied.

  “No one can say,” Eileis agreed. “So that is the point we must argue with the Vestry. We must ask them to open their minds to other possibilities. Our world is changing; the mountain will see to that. And we must change too if we are to survive.”

  “Reiv told the Tearians the same thing,” Dayn said. “It was the Jecta, the outcasts, he told first. They were the ones in the most need of understanding. At first they were skeptical, but before long they knew what he said was true.”

  “So what you’re sayin’ is that one fella had enough charisma to spirit his people away from their beliefs?” Brenainn said.

  “Charisma. He does have that,” Dayn said with a laugh. “Have you ever met someone with hair the color of fire and a tongue to match?”

  “Well, I did know a woman once with a temper that would singe the hairs off your balls,” Brenainn reminisced, “but—”

  “Enough,” Eileis said with a wave of her hand. “The Vestry meets tonight. Are the implications in the cave enough to sway them? Probably not, but it might at least give them pause.”

  “I, for one, am willin’ to present to ‘em what we found,” Peadar said. “And if they wish to see it for themselves, they’re welcome to the land of the Aerie, but only for that purpose. With all the clans still gathered here, I doubt they’d try anythin’ foolish.”

  “We’d best be callin’ the plenum to order then,” Brenainn sa
id, rising from the bench. “Cos if we’re gonna settle the issue with the clans and reach Kiradyn by nightfall, we’d best be quick about it.”

  All agreed, though Uaine was skeptical, and headed out to call their clans to the Plenum of Four. Within the hour all were gathered within the circle. The evidence found in the cave was presented, and Dayn’s and Alicine’s story about their trek to Tearia was revealed in full detail. The topics were hotly debated, but after some time it was agreed that the Chieftains, along with Haskel and Eileis and several bodyguards, would leave immediately for the Vestry. As almost an afterthought, Eyan was accepted as a member of the clan, but throughout it all, Dayn’s thoughts were elsewhere—on the Well of Wishes and the girl who would hopefully be waiting for him there.

  * * * *

  It was mid afternoon by the time the mounted delegation departed for Kiradyn. Every member of the party was a skilled horseman, but none of them dared ride too swiftly. Eileis was amongst them, and though her spirit may have been as strong as a warrior’s, her brittle bones were not.

  Dayn had paced the floor until the group finally left. The instant the flank of the last horse disappeared down the road, he grabbed up some flint and one of Eyan’s bows from the barn and headed for the woods.

  “Dayn!” Eyan called at his back. “Wait. I’ll go with ye.”

  “No,” Dayn said over his shoulder. “I think I’ll go by myself this time.”

  Eyan caught up to him. “But if we both go,” he said, “we’ll bring back more. Mother says we’re nearly out o’ meat.”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t go hunting, Eyan,” Dayn replied impatiently. “I just don’t want you to go hunting with me.”

  Eyan’s face fell.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Dayn said, trying to sound as though he meant it. “I just have a lot on my mind and I want to be by myself, that’s all.”

  “Well, I’ve a lot on my mind, too,” Eyan said crossly. “Or have ye forgotten? It would be nice to have someone to talk to.”

  “Well that someone is not going to be me,” Dayn snapped. “Maybe later.” Then he marched down the path and toward the forest, leaving Eyan behind.

  Dayn veered off the path and into the trees, navigating the woods as quickly as he was able. He knew the tangle of undergrowth would slow his pace for a time, but it was only a temporary decoy. He would detour onto the main road further down, then fork off toward the Well of Wishes.

  It was said the well could grant a person’s deepest desires. To make a wish, one only had to throw a coin into it. If the coin made a sound when it hit the water, the wish would be granted. But if there was silence, well…better luck next time. The well had once been a place for parties and celebratory gatherings, but over time it had dried up, and few visitors went there now. Dayn had heard rumors that lovers sometimes still met there, but most people stayed away. If wishes were no longer granted, it was just a long walk to yet another pile of rocks.

  As Dayn marched in that direction, he wondered what he might wish for if the well still held its magic. At this point, a conversation with Falyn would suffice, but considering the way he usually behaved around her, he would more than likely end up stammering at his boots. It occurred to him that he hadn’t stammered at all when he confronted her father that night at the springs. He had, in fact, acted rather bravely, he thought. Falyn, however, might not have thought him brave at all. Perhaps she thought him a fool instead and was inviting him to the well to tell him that very thing. As for her brother—why, he probably hated Dayn more than ever, especially since Dayn had seen him naked and vulnerable. But Sheireadan was not someone Dayn wanted to think of at the moment. He shoved the boy’s scowling face from his mind and replaced it with one far more pleasant: Falyn.

  He envisioned her standing before him, her almond-shaped eyes staring into his, her lips inviting him for a taste. Would she allow him to kiss her? he wondered. He had only ever kissed one girl, and that had been Jensa. As he thought back on it, he recalled how nice it had felt, but it had also alerted him to how easily a kiss could lead to more. And it was the “more” he truly wished for with Falyn.

  He glanced around him. The forest was darkening with elongated shadows. How long had he been walking? He was confident he was on the right path, he had long since forked off the main road, but he had not expected it to take this long. The sun was setting behind the trees now, darkness would soon be upon him, and with no moon to light the night sky, he would have only the stars to guide him. With luck, no clouds would roll in to obscure them, but he had brought flint just in case, and could fashion a torch if need be.

  A clearing up ahead caught Dayn’s attention, and he realized he was nearly to the well. He could just make it out through the foliage; it was centered on a grassy knoll that was dotted with rocks and tumbled old ruins. But then he realized the area surrounding it was illuminated. He ducked behind a tree and peered around it toward the knoll. A lantern could be seen resting atop a crumbling wall, and next to it someone appeared to be leaning over the well. From where Dayn stood, it was difficult to determine whether they were friend or foe, but when the person straightened up, he realized it was Falyn.

  Dayn’s insides fluttered like a thousand butterflies. In his eyes, Falyn looked like a fairy in a dream. But surely that was what she was, for never had he seen anything so beautiful. His heart danced with fear and anticipation. This was it—the moment he had been waiting for—the chance to finally tell Falyn how he felt about her. But then a disturbing thought shoved its way in: What if he didn’t like her response?

  Courage, Dayn whispered through gritted teeth. He pulled in a steadying breath, determined not to waste a moment more, but then he realized he should give her a hint of his presence at least. He thought to whisper her name or clear his throat, but before he could do either, another worry entered his thoughts. He’d received many a black eye, or worse, for a single step in Falyn’s direction. Sometimes, if he’d been lucky, he’d have gotten a smile from her, or maybe a word or two. But smiles and words were no longer enough, his heart demanded more, and if he failed to convince her tonight, he knew the pain of that would be far worse than any beating he had ever received.

  He watched her for a long moment. She was leaning over the well again, gazing into its depths. Her long, black hair had tumbled over her shoulders, obscuring her face. Dayn felt his hands begin to tremble. How he longed to run his fingers through that hair, to pull her into his arms and press his mouth to hers. Don’t be a fool, he told himself. She’ll toss you into the well the minute you try. He thrust his hands into his pockets and stepped slowly toward her.

  Falyn’s eyes turned to his. She straightened up and took a startled step back. “Dayn,” she said.

  Dayn tilted his head toward the well. “What were you wishing for?” he asked.

  Falyn fingered her skirt nervously. “I was wishing that you wouldn’t come,” she said.

  Dayn grimaced.

  “I didn’t mean it like you think, Dayn,” she said anxiously.

  “How did you mean it then?”

  She stepped toward him, but Dayn made no move to tighten the distance. He could not trust himself not to grab her and pull her into his arms.

  Falyn stopped. “I only meant that it was dangerous for you to come. I should never have asked you.”

  “There is nothing I wouldn’t give you,” he said, gathering his courage.

  “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “So what is it you want?”

  Falyn grew quiet, as if playing his question in her mind. Then she said, “I want you to leave and never come back.”

  Dayn laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Not without you.”

  “You said you would give me anything!” she said, her face reddening.

  Dayn’s laughter faded. “Do you hate me that much?”

  “No. It is because I…do not hate you that I am asking you to leave.”

  �
�I’m going to need more of an explanation than that.”

  “Please, Dayn. Father will not rest until he sees you brought to justice. He’s talked to the Vestry about it more than once and with each member individually, but tonight is when they will decide what formal action to take against you.”

  “Against me? What action will they take against him?”

  “None. That is why you have to leave.”

  Dayn eyed her cautiously. “And just where would you like me to go?”

  “To wherever it was you hid before. Otherwise Father will find you.”

  Dayn felt his anger flare. “I’ll not run away like I have something to be ashamed of! If anyone should be ashamed, it’s him. He has no right to treat you the way he does.”

  “You’re wrong,” Falyn said. “He has every right.”

  “Then come away with me,” Dayn said. “I’ll take you to a place where we’ll both be safe.”

  “There is no such place.”

  “Of course there is,” Dayn insisted. “I’ve been there.” Then he hesitated. How in the world was he going to explain Tearia and the valley and all that he had learned since running away all those months ago? Would Falyn think him a liar, or even worse, a heretic? “Falyn, please listen. When I left, I wasn’t hiding in the clan lands.”

  Falyn cocked her head. “Where were you then?”

  “Alicine and I went into the cave; it took us beneath the mountains.” Falyn gasped, but Dayn continued, the pace of his words quickening. “We got lost and ended up on the other side. There’s a whole other world there, Falyn. It’s called Tearia. That’s where my real parents live; that’s where I’m from. I met my cousin Reiv—he was a prince, but was disowned and became a Transcendor—and there were people there called the Jecta and the Shell Seekers and there was a battle and—”

  “I don’t believe you,” Falyn said.

  “It’s the truth, Falyn. I swear it. You know how the mountain spewed rock and smoke recently? The people in Tearia were affected by it, too. That’s why Alicine and I came back; to make sure Mother and Father were all right.”

  “Father said it was Daghadar punishing the Kiradyns for their wickedness,” Falyn insisted. “As soon as everyone began tithing additional coin at Service, it stopped.”