by Jacob Cooper
Next he injected a piece of himself into the tree that was nearly as old as Våleira itself. Under his hands, the bark of the tree started to harden and turn cold. Its lively light brown tint turned gray. Great cracks and snaps were heard within the mighty Triarch, as if explosions rippled through it as it fought desperately for life, but the Dark Influence was too powerful for the tree’s Light. The change spread out from Tyjil’s touch, down to the roots and up the trunk until the branches far above with their wide-spread leaves all petrified. A loud creeking sound filled the night, the tree’s final breath of resignation. The radiance of the Triarch leaves faded and the effect spread to three other trees whose roots were directly intertwined with this now dead tree, but did not spread farther.
Shilkath smiled so big they could actually see his teeth through his thick beard. He clapped once and said, “Ha! Good trick!”
“This is only a small example,” Wellyn told him. “Tyjil will be able to force this Influence through vast portions of the forest when the time comes.”
Tyjil stepped back from the petrified wood and found himself exhausted. The dark harmony that played in his mind was fading away as the power receded. When he glanced up, he was met by various looks ranging from fear to utter disbelief, save for the chase-giver. Rembbran’s gaze was elsewhere, fixated upon what only appeared to be darkness.
Noticing the chase-giver’s attention, Wellyn came to his side.
“Fear,” Rembbran growled.
“I don’t see anything, your Grace,” a mounted Khan offered. His horse whinnied.
“Not surprising,” Rembbran scoffed.
Tyjil was still weak from his demonstration but this did not stop anxiety from pooling inside him. We cannot be discovered! Not yet!
“Are you certain we are not alone?” the High Duke asked.
“Quite so, my Liege.” Tyjil could hear the anticipation in the chase-giver’s answer. A predatory smile spread across Rembbran’s rune-pocked face.
Do it! Tyjil pleaded inwardly. Charge him!
High Duke Wellyn did Charge the chase-giver. Rembbran shuddered as he prowled toward a specific spot but found nothing. His nose gills flared and he snapped his head north.
“Female,” Tyjil heard Rembbran say to himself. “Succulent.” And then the Helsyan was gone, tearing through the forest as the great devourer his kind was born to be.
SEVENTEEN
Lord Thannuel Kerr
Day 22 of 3rd Low 400 A.U.
9 Years Ago
THANNUEL KERR SLAMMED HIS FIST down hard against the beast’s head, but it stubbornly held on to his right forearm with its jaw locked. Jayden nearly cackled with laughter and pride. This wasn’t the first time Lord Kerr had moved too slowly while sparring, underestimating his opponent. He cursed himself for not setting a better example as all his men looked on anxiously while their Lord took his turn. Both soldiers and hold guard stood intermixed as they shouted their calls of encouragement, and Thannuel felt abashed as he heard some cheering for the wolf. Wood-dweller he was, but the wolves’ skills escalated the more they trained against Thannuel and his men. As Lord of the Western Province, Thannuel had ultimate command of the army of the West but interfered little with military leadership. He trusted the men he appointed over the army and focused more on his training of his hold guard, who were with him day and night.
“Thannuel, you dolt! I should have left you on the shores of the Runic Islands! Don’t embarrass me, now!” Colonel Roan teased.
“Perhaps you can do better, Antious?” Thannuel asked.
“Of course, my Lord. As soon as that beast lets go of your arm I’ll be happy to show you!”
The men looked forward to these long excursions to the Gonfrey Forest to train with Jayden’s packs as sparring against only one another had become stale, producing little benefit. New opponents were needed to keep a soldier sharp. Bringing in soldiers from other provincial forces proved dull and unproductive to the army of the West, although it was priceless training for those sent. Lord Calder Hoyt of the Southern Province seemed to send in an increasing number of his men to train with the wood-dweller army, but winning all the time in sparring did not hone the skills of the victors.
Jayden’s packs, however, had shown the wood-dwellers a new challenge. Thannuel thought it was a curious proposal from Jayden when he received it at his hold the previous year but decided nonetheless to pursue the offer.
“Are you sure this is wise? Why would someone raise wolves?” Aiden had asked. “Personally, I would somewhat question the old woman’s sanity, my Lord.”
“I am certain she has her reasons,” Thannuel offered. “But I have heard she is no reed in the wind. It would be likely unwise to presume too much.”
As Thannuel drew his fist back again for another blow, the wolf decided to spare its cranium another lump and released Thannuel’s forearm. Lord Kerr quickly inspected his wounded right arm and found the wolf had not sunk its fangs deep. The punctures were only superficial but enough of a reminder to stay focused. The use of his primary sword hand did not appear to be hindered. Primary was indeed the correct description, for Lord Thannuel Kerr was almost as skilled in steel with his left hand as his right. Contrary to the belief that one had to be born ambidextrous in order to achieve the skill Thannuel possessed was the truth that it was simply a reversal of balance. Imagining oneself fighting as a reflection in a mirror was often all the mental exercise required to begin to learn the steel katas in the opposite hand. Imagining each fluid movement with enough concentration could prove more effective than the physical practice or outward action.
The wolf backed up and lowered its head and front legs, taking a stance from which it could easily attack or defend. Stepping back, Thannuel found his footing and launched forward, jumping upward from tree trunk to tree trunk, higher and higher, until he reached the top of the trees and was directly over the wolf. Without stopping, he dove down through the air and raised his sword above his head. Seeing the attack coming, the wolf launched toward Thannuel, meeting him in the air. It dodged the strike from Thannuel’s sword and found his neck with its jaws as they hit the ground entangled with each other.
“Enough!” Aiden called out. The wolf snarled. Thannuel was…laughing. Though the deadly jaws of the large white wolf were lightly clenched around Lord Kerr’s neck, the point of his short blade rested solidly between the wolf’s third and fourth ribs. Both blows would have proved mortal.
At Aiden’s command, the match was over.
Ancients, that boy is protective! Lord Kerr thought as he looked to Master Aiden.
Thannuel and the wolf released each other and backed away. With a smile on his face and a little winded, Thannuel bowed to the wolf cub that already outsized any other of the pack.
Jayden clapped her hands in front of her mouth in elation. “Have we finally found a match for you, Lord Kerr?”
“More than a match,” Thannuel said. “A true training companion, I think. The skill set required is very different than fighting a human. It is new territory for us.”
“This one is Elohk,” Jayden said. “He is unique of our most recent litter. He is pure white without blemish, as you have no doubt surmised. Size and strength are unequaled by any I have ever raised. And there’s something else…” Jayden considered for a moment, deciding if she should continue.
“Well?” Thannuel asked, still with an impressed smile upon his face as he wiped his hands clean of ice and mud. “I must know the one who bested me.”
“Yes.” Jayden seemed to be pondering the right way to explain what she meant. “Elohk understands,” she finally said.
Thannuel’s impressed smile turned to a quizzical look. “Understands what?”
“You,” Jayden said simply. “Me. Your men.” She paused for a moment. “Us. He understands us, our language, our way. At first I thought it to be instinct…the way an animal knows when it will rain or when the earth will become unbalanced and the ground and mountains rend. But I know it
is more than this. Elohk appears gifted.”
“Well, that’s just perfect,” Aiden scoffed. “A beast that can speak our tongue. What next? Squirrels that cook and clean up after our meals? Birds that serenade me to sleep?” Several of the men laughed at Aiden’s facetious jabs until Jayden snapped at them in a cracking voice.
“I did not say he spoke our tongue, only that he understands. Are your ears stuffed with moss, boy?”
“All right,” Thannuel interjected. “Let’s prepare for the evening meal. We’re concluded for today.”
The men started making their way to the makeshift barracks that contained a dining hall. The wolves barked and playfully snapped at one another as they ran back to their kennels. Thannuel remained for a moment contemplating Jayden’s words.
“Are you coming, my Lord?” Antious Roan asked. His purple cloak, that of a Colonel, had snow upon the shoulders.
“Antious, how many times have I told you there is no rank between us when we are alone?”
“I’ve lost count, my Lord.”
“I’m going to stick that beast of a wolf on you if you keep this up.”
Roan sighed with a half smile. “You know, I didn’t save you just so you could get shredded by some wolf, Thannuel.”
“He seems more than just another wolf. Wait until your turn comes. You’ll see.”
“You actually believe that old windbag?” Roan asked.
Thannuel shrugged. “At least your men have a better challenge here, yes?”
“No doubt. If Lord Hoyt sends one more group of Southern soldiers to train with us I might have to be rude and take a limb or two by accident.”
“Calder’s a good man, Antious.”
“Right, as you say.”
Thannuel became more serious. “I have thanked you, I know. But I will never tire of it. I owe you my life, Antious.”
Roan looked away, obviously uncomfortable. “Regardless, you saved the Realm. You won that war. There’s no disputing this point. You fought as if you were in our own forests, with the same sensitivity and agility. It was almost as if the Ancients had returned, as if—”
Roan broke off and was silent for a minute. “Well, I’ll never understand how you did that.”
Thannuel did not understand then either, but he did now. “We all just did our duty. Sometimes the cost is high. No one gave more than you.”
“I’m still alive though, am I not?”
Thannuel knew Antious referred to his internal battle that never ended, though the Orsarian War had seven years ago. He never forgave himself for surviving when his battalion, including General Korin, Kalisa’s father, had not.
“Colonel, I know of no one who more fully lives and exemplifies the Arlethian Warrior’s Creed.”
Roan did not respond.
“I’ll join you and the men later. I’ll just be a few more minutes,” Thannuel said. “And see if you can teach Master Aiden a thing or two about showing respect for our host.”
Colonel Roan walked off to the cottage.
His mind returned to Jayden’s words about Elohk. Even if they are true, it’s simply a fascinating occurrence and nothing more. He sat down upon the frozen ground, his cloak bearing his house’s sigil of a single Triarch leaf sewn in the back spread out around him, and closed his eyes to meditate and center himself after the sparring matches. He reviewed in his mind every move of his and that of his opponents, every step and movement, with unforgiving analysis and criticism. Aiden had promise and served loyally as the newly appointed master of the hold guard. If he could just mind his tongue! Thannuel mused.
He felt a tremor. Slight, yet distinct. “You’re still here,” he said aloud. It was not a question. Thannuel opened his eyes and scanned the snow-covered ground around him. The tremor came again, ahead of him ten paces and slightly to the right.
“If you’re looking for a rematch, I’m sure that can be arranged.” Thannuel sat more still than a stone, fixated. Then suddenly behind him, he heard something emerge swiftly from the snow. He leapt to his feet and spun in the air, his cloak catching the wind as a sail on a ship. When he landed, he was crouched with his sword placed horizontally between him and the wolf just below his chin. Elohk faced him, snow clinging to his white fur, giving the appearance of an extra coat. His fur was the whitest Thannuel had ever seen, nearly impossible to discern from the snow. Thannuel wasn’t surprised that it was the wolf, but he was astonished that it had moved so stealthily behind him without him sensing it.
Elohk did not attack, but stared into Thannuel’s eyes. It was penetrating and Thannuel saw fathoms of intelligence therein. He lowered his sword and stood up from his crouch. An understanding passed between them in this moment.
“Is it true?” Thannuel asked, feeling a little foolish talking to an animal. “Do you understand my words?” Elohk did not turn away but continued to stare. Thannuel sighed and thought this was all ridiculous. He might be very skilled and full of uncanny instinct, but of course he doesn’t understand my words.
“How about a small test, yes? A simple experiment. With which hand do I draw my sword?” Elohk continued to stare at Thannuel and then looked away and huffed, as if insulted by this simple-minded game. But, he played along and obliged Lord Kerr. He stepped closer to Lord Kerr and nudged his right hand with his wet nose, then stepped back. Thannuel laughed.
“That was too easy. You managed to bite that arm today thanks to me underestimating you. There’s no way you could manage that again now that—”
Before Thannuel could finish, Elohk launched himself forward and closed his jaws around Thannuel’s right forearm. Again. Then he released the arm almost as quickly as he had attacked. He did not clamp his fangs down with enough pressure to break skin, but just enough to prove himself. Thannuel stood stunned wearing a mask of incredulity across his face. Then he laughed out loud, a heaving, bellowing laugh nearing hysterics.
“Do it again!” he commanded. The wolf cocked his head to the left and then seemed to shrug as if to say, “Oh, very well,” and launched once more at Thannuel, mouth agape. Thannuel was indeed prepared this time, and Elohk found nothing but air filling his maw. He skidded to a halt and turned around to face Thannuel with alacrity.
“Again!” Thannuel commanded.
They circled each other slowly and locked gazes. Elohk sprang forward but Thannuel deftly stepped aside and landed a palm heel to the wolf’s right side, sending him in a new direction in mid-flight. Elohk landed without any trouble and refocused his gaze on Thannuel.
“Again,” Thannuel said in a more serious, focused tone. They sparred into the night and across the forest. The minutes turned to hours and evening to full night. If Thannuel lost sight of Elohk for a moment, the wolf would silently bury himself in the snow and wait for an opportunity. While intensely focused, however, Lord Kerr honed in on the distinct signature of vibrations Elohk emitted, making it near impossible for the wolf to succeed in another surprise attack. Conversely, the agility of a wood-dweller to spring from tree to tree at speed greater than a human could track and pounce down upon an opponent proved less and less effective as Elohk learned to counter this move. For hours, neither was able to touch the other or land any attack as they danced around each other throughout the forest. Finally, as they once again faced off and held each other’s gaze, Thannuel raised his hand and said, “Enough, Elohk. It is enough.”
The wolf refused to relent for a moment and then in a sluggish movement, let himself fall to the earth and give out a small whine.
Thannuel nodded. “I completely agree,” “For the past hour I’ve been completely drained, running on pure adrenaline. I just couldn’t let you know I was wearing down.” Thannuel hunched over and took in a few deep breaths and then lethargically made his way to where Elohk prostrated himself on the earth. He heard the wolf’s heavy breathing and sat down next him. The wolf was longer than Thannuel was tall. The night chill finally hit him as he lay down, some miles from Jayden’s cottage where his men slept i
n the barracks. It was late in the second moon’s cycle and dawn would greet them soon. I may not move for several days after this night of training.
Thannuel felt the large wolf inch closer and bring its body against his own, adding welcome warmth that his cloak alone could not provide. Just before sleep overcame him, Thannuel found his mind wandering upon deeper concerns.
Is it truly coming? He wondered. Will we be prepared enough? Will the people rise up as we hope? Will they even understand? He did not know, but he hoped. He hoped, mostly though, that his children would not have to stand against the Dark alone. The foreboding upon him he knew was more than his imagination. It would be impossible to shield them completely, but he prayed he could at least stand by them when Noxmyra rose with the Ancient Dark in her wake.
THE END OF PART 1
PART 2
FRACTURE
The air above soiled damp—
Indifference dripping,
Pooling to vats of rancor;
Broken! Rent! Fractured line!
— 17th Stanza, The Passages of Tunginorr’ah
The fever of recreancy gropes my heart, boils my blood. Where hides my relief, my remedy, to change what I have become to that which I have lost?
—The Erynx Fragments, recovered by Obred
Thulin, a Terranist, circa 134 A.U.
3 leagues outside the East’s state city of Erynx
EIGHTEEN
Honleir
Day 19 of 4th High 412 A.U.
KEARON EXISTED, BUT DID NOT LIVE. Or so the saying was in the Realm. Without any lands or true citizenry, most Kearon kept to the far reaches of the Realm, those parts in which others had little desire or concern. Their songs and poems recanted of the blessing and curse granted them of life after defeat by Oliver Wellyn and his hordes. Many houses had been gathered in league with House Kearon against Wellyn and their allies; yet, those permitted to live in defeat were known simply as Kearon, no matter their lineage. They were not distinguished as part of their lasting shame and punishment.