by Travis Peck
Interlude: Part Two
This is one of several notes that Mon Lyzink dispatched with one Master Finnrick, Legate Shavoli’s secretary. It is the last communique from the famed scholar since his, and his apprentice’s, disappearance. Master Finnrick attests that Mon Lyzink was in good health at the time when he was charged to deliver this packet to the scholar’s tower. Legate Shavoli corroborates her secretary’s statements regarding the last known location of the missing scholar and the circumstances leading up to his disappearance. The first portion is apparently intended for eventual publication, but the last note attached describes more recent events. The following has been confirmed to be written in Mon Lyzink’s hand:
Since the publication of this work two years prior, I have decided an addendum was necessary to take into account what I believe to be a serious behavioral shift seen in our subjects. For the many years I have been observing the ravinors’ curious aversion to sunlight, I had not witnessed any events; nor in fact seen, or heard, any reports that would indicate other than what was, up to this point, as close to a natural law as I have seen.
Ravinors do not go out during the day. Period. They are afraid of, and uncomfortable under, the sun and will do almost anything to avoid it. This was my and countless others’ understanding of the matter. However, over the course of the time that the first edition was published, I have seen and recorded observations that will bring the ravinor’s behavior further into the light. Literally.
The first time my apprentice and I had seen a ravinor out in the daylight, we believed it to be an anomaly. It had been an overcast winter’s day. The clouds were dark with snow, so there were virtually no rays of light able to penetrate the darkness of the clouds above. We were observing, from some distance away, by means of a Felradman Eye Glass (Model 23), a flock of ravinors sequestered in a heavily canopied grove. They were beginning to become active because of the unusually dark daytime skies.
Ravinors seem to possess a preternatural sense of time, at least as it pertains to sunrise and sunset. They were clearly agitated, not trusting their internal timekeeping that told them it should be light for candles yet. One of the ravinors cautiously made its way out from the cover of the trees and into the open terrain. Much like a human would test the ocean waves with a toe before daring to dive in for a swim, this ravinor would take a step out then quickly lurch back to safety. After a number of increasingly distant forays into the open, the ravinor was becoming more comfortable with the unusual circumstance it had found itself in.
More of the ravinors joined in with the first, emboldened by their compatriot’s bravery—and its noticeable lack of catastrophic injury. After a candle’s time spent getting used to the idea, the ravinors began to search around for sustenance, as they normally would after sunset.
Equally as rare as the uncharacteristically dark day had been, there was a sudden break in the cloud cover. The sky turned from a dusk-like luminance to a full sunny day in moments. By this point, the flock was a hundred yards from safety, caught out in open terrain. There were some barks and hoots of fear, and the flock pressed into itself as tightly as they could. I have never observed such profound surprise or shock from a ravinor before this incident. It was as if they were waiting for some terrible event to strike them down from the heavens. But nothing came. No vengeful flaming hand of the Giver (or Taker?) had smote them where they stood.
Physically, there was no injury, or even any hint of pain caused from this exposure to sunlight, which certainly disproves some views held by some of my esteemed colleagues. It reminded me of my old schoolyard days during a recess from our studies where the headmistress did not oversee our play. After the first incident went unpunished, or even remarked upon, there was shock. Then the realization of our lack of supervision rendered us immobile. But only for a moment as chaos ensued.
So it was with the ravinors. After their initial shock and hesitation wore off, they seemed unusually exuberant. They did not play or frolic, but there was a certain sense of enjoyment that radiated from the ravinors that I have not seen since.
This was the only example where I observed the exact moment of the realization that the sunlight was actually harmless to a ravinor.
Since that event, my apprentice and I have seen more examples of ravinors out in the daylight, though never again under such unique circumstances. It seems that ravinors still have an aversion to the sun, but if they are properly motivated by virtue of a meal, or exposure to some danger to force their hand, then they are willing to brave the sunlight, at least for a short time.
(For those specific examples where a ravinor, or ravinor flock was witnessed out in daylight, please see Appendix 16-4. I chose not to enter them in this addendum because a full chapter will be added dealing with this new discovery in an upcoming title. I thought it best to get this addendum out into the hands of the reader in the soon-to-be released 3rd edition).
As is so often the case in this field, each discovery made raises more questions. First, we have to ask ourselves if the ravinors discovered their ability to withstand the sun on their own, like in the above example, or was this a discovery that a few flocks experienced then shared with the other flocks across the empire? Was it simply a matter of fear that after having seen some of its comrades live through exposure to the sun that the others became less frightened? Either way suggests some mode of communication over a grand scale. Even more questions are raised with this discovery, as you, the reader, can appreciate.
If ravinors were once physically unable to withstand sunlight before, does this mean that the creatures were now evolving? And did said evolution allow the ravinors the capacity to overcome their fears of the sun after the lack of pain they experienced when forced into such a situation? Or was it purely a behavioral shift? Are there factors that we are not thinking of here that could effect such a change? Perhaps the sun is less bright than it once was, or is there some new element to a ravinor’s diet that is changing their skin so it can withstand the light? More questions—always more questions. It is striking to me how little proven information we have on the ravinor, considering they have been present on this continent for hundreds of years. Equally striking is the fact that we have so many years of study ahead of us before we may finally come to know our enemy.
The last several pages of the message delivered by Master Finnrick is an accounting of Mon Lyzink’s most recent observations of ravinors being active during the daylight. These events took place shortly before the scholar and his apprentice crossed paths with Legate Shavoli in the village of Glennin….
Chapter Eighteen
LERIUS BOLTED AWAKE WITH sudden fear. Liselle! He had forgotten about his sister during all that had happened. He had to make sure she was safe. Then he remembered. He thanked the Giver that his sister and her new husband had gone south to Aerilyn to celebrate their nuptials with the groom’s side of the family, who all lived in the bustling capital of Kharisk. She was safe. Relief flooded over him as he lie on the hard, cool ground with nothing but a horse blanket for comfort. He and Hossen did not have a chance to prepare much in the way of supplies during their frantic escape from the fallen village of Deepbrooke. They were just happy to make it out at all. Many others had not been so lucky, judging from the number of newly turned ravinors pursuing them.
They had ridden hard well past dark; a risky maneuver, but less of a risk than losing any ground to the several dozen ravinors that had been pursuing them. Once their horses tired and were stumbling from fatigue, they had decided that it was more dangerous to go on than to stop and rest.
From the moon’s position high in the clear night sky, Lerius figured he had only slept two candles. His heart was still racing from the bolt of panic that had struck him with concern over his sister’s safety. He would not be able to sleep any more this night, no matter how badly he might need it.
“Can’t sleep? Me neither,” the innkeeper said in a whisper. Even if the two humans couldn’t sleep, Hossen kept his voice
low to ensure that their horses were not disturbed and got as much rest as possible. It would be another long day of riding, and they—and their mounts—would be up well before dawn.
“I slept some,” Lerius answered. “Not much, but a little.” The two men were silent, and the only sound they heard was the heavy breathing of their two exhausted mounts dozing nearby.
“Where do you think we should go?” Hossen asked, still whispering.
Lerius considered the question. Aerilyn made the most sense, but it was a week’s travel away. He worried about how much longer the horses could keep up the grueling pace. Ravinors were easy to outrun over short distances on horseback. But, over long distances, they had excellent endurance and would push them the entire way, likely overtaking them if they could not find fresh mounts soon. Unfortunately, they couldn’t go to just any farmstead that they came across to find sanctuary. That tactic would end in disaster for whoever lived there. They had to think of a place that was well defended, and one that could repel the ravinors chasing them. It would be nice if they had horses they could purchase, too. Purchase on credit, that is.
Lerius voiced his concerns to Hossen.
“I know a place a few days away.” Hossen speculated as he shifted underneath his blanket. “Lord Geryn’s estates are fairly close. He’s the wealthiest man in Styr, or one of them at any rate, so he must have guards and such.”
Lerius nodded before realizing that it was too dark for Hossen to see his gesture of agreement. “I think that might work. If nothing else, he will have horses to sell, and it would put us that much closer to Aerilyn.”
He felt better having a destination in mind, albeit one he wasn’t familiar with. Now that he had a goal, it would make the exhausting days ahead more palatable than wandering blindly around the countryside hoping to come across a garrison or outpost that could give them refuge. Then, once they got out of this mess, Giver willing, they could search out Mon Lyzink to tell him what they had discovered.
For the rest of the night, neither man slept longer than a candle, and they were both eager to be away as soon as they had enough light to see by.
“Not much to pack up,” Lerius said, joking feebly as he folded up his horse blanket.
Hossen chuckled in return as he did the same. All that remained was to ready the horses.
The two mounts were reluctant to resume travel again and snorted and stamped their hooves on the hard ground in protest. But, despite their display of discontent, soon they were saddled and ready to go, if not eager.
Looking back over his shoulder at their back-trail, Lerius saw no sign of pursuit, but he knew that they were not far behind. He gave a sharp flick of the reins to set the pace. He would start their horses out slow to give them time to loosen up their muscles before he increased their speed. After a candle, the group happened across a road leading to the south. That would save the horses a lot of trouble without the need to deal with the difficult terrain. But the ravinors could find the road as easily as they had.
The region south of Deepbrooke was flat. The land was mostly heath, but it had rocky ground interspersed throughout that could easily snap an unwary horse’s leg if they weren’t careful. The healer was pleased to see that this road was well made and reasonably well maintained. Lerius knew from his healer’s circuit that there were no farms or villages along this road for another day or two, so they would not be drawing ravinors to an unsuspecting and vulnerable farm.
After tomorrow they would have to abandon the road regardless of the terrain, but, by then, they should only be a day of hard riding from Lord Geryn’s estates—according to the innkeeper. Lerius had not gone farther south than the village they would be bypassing tomorrow, so he knew little of what obstacles remained between them and their hoped-for shelter. Hossen had told him that he traveled this way whenever he made the trip to Aerilyn. That eased the healer’s mind, somewhat.
The day passed slowly despite the knowledge that their unseen stalkers were somewhere behind them. Lerius alternated the pace between a fast gallop and a steady trot, depending on the rise and fall of the road. He would gallop their mounts on any descent and slow them down to a trot whenever they climbed in order to conserve their energy. An old merchant’s guard had taught him that one; Hossen did not gainsay his methods, so he figured the man had been right. It seemed the horses were still willing to carry him and his companion, but maybe they knew how close the ravinors were and were simply saving themselves.
He checked to their rear countless times throughout the day and had yet to catch a glimpse of the pursuing creatures. He just wished that he could count on the creatures to follow rather than attempting to cut them off somewhere up ahead. With the way the ravinors had acted at Deepbrooke—waiting to ambush them if they left the inn—the healer suspected that they should err on the side of caution and act as if there was a band of human thieves after them.
For the time being, they would travel along the road as fast as they could. Eventually, they would need to give up their easy mode of travel and venture into the less forgiving heath. Other than one short stop when the group happened upon a stream to get water, they carried onward at as brisk a pace as they dared; thoughts of a ravinor flock, or two, behind them constantly spurred them on.
Lerius’s stomach rumbled insistently, yet again. Neither he nor Hossen had eaten anything since their last meager breakfast in the inn’s attic before their frantic exit from Deepbrooke. The lack of nourishment was beginning to wear on them. Unfortunately, neither of them possessed any talent for woodcraft, which would have proven useful in obtaining food and shelter. As a healer, Lerius did have some knowledge of herbs and certain berries, but that was for medicinal purposes, little help in their current situation.
By the look of the dark clouds forming in the sky, it would be raining all too soon. Lerius did not relish the thought of adding a miserable and hungry night on top of the existing ravinor threat that hung over their heads like an executioner’s axe. But unless Hossen was hiding secret woodsman lore—uncommon for an innkeeper—then they were going to have a dastardly time of it.
At least their goal of reaching the Geryn estate in the near future helped push them forward. He could put up with any discomfort in order to avoid occupying a ravinor’s belly. He had to keep reminding himself of that as his stomach rumbled again and a fat raindrop landed on his forehead.
Within half a candle, the clouds opened up, and the two riders, and their mounts, were being properly doused. They could do nothing more than keep plodding along the now muddy road. The rain was coming down hard, and Lerius had to keep his head tilted downward just to be able to see the road ahead. It had been about time to take a bath anyway, he thought.
He and Hossen were soaked to the skin almost immediately. They had no cloaks, or any other protection from the rain, and now, even the rank and musty horse blankets were as sopping wet as they were. We’re lucky to be alive. We’re lucky to be alive, Lerius repeated in his mind. It was true, of course, but it was remarkable how quickly his euphoria of escaping Deepbrooke had worn off. Traveling with the ache of hunger gnawing at his stomach and being faced with such miserable weather had coupled to dampen his joy of survival that had been buoying his spirit.
He realized that Hossen was talking. Both men had been silent since the rain had started to fall and had kept their heads down as low as possible to avoid the rain—as if that were possible—so he hadn’t noticed his comrade speaking. He finally caught on to what the innkeeper was saying through the driving rain. “The ravinors will have trouble tracking us in this!” Hossen had finally resorted to yelling to be heard over the rain.
Lerius realized this was true, and it helped, a little, knowing that their misery might just purchase them a reprieve from the ravinors. He nodded at Hossen and could only hope the man saw his gesture through the downpour. He was actually able to gulp down a mouthful of rainwater simply by looking up for a few heartbeats with his mouth opened wide. Another advantage of the d
riving rain. He gave a short bark of laughter. He turned to look at Hossen and said, “I remember doing this as a child.” The innkeeper gave him a blank look so he demonstrated his method of getting a mouthful of rainwater.
Hossen understood readily enough and followed suit, nearly choking with the rapidity at which his mouth filled with water. “I never remember it raining hard enough for this to do more than wet your tongue,” he said between mouthfuls of rain water, grinning all the while.
Suddenly the rain did not seem so bad. Laughter always helped take the sting out of whatever the Taker threw at you. And there was no way that the ravinors could follow their scent now, even tracking dogs would have a rough time finding them in this.
He was going to suggest to Hossen that they should leave the road to ensure that they wouldn’t be followed, but the words died on his lips. He saw a campfire in the distance, at the far edge of his visibility in the rain. He saw only a quick flash and flicker of flame. He could not make out the smoke through the torrent. Lerius was beginning to doubt that he had seen anything when the aroma of cooked meat wafted through the air. His stomach responded immediately with an intense cramp, longing for whatever was cooking.
Lerius reined in his horse sharply and exchanged a look with Hossen. As hungry, cold, and wet as he was, the fire was like a siren tempting a sailor to stare into the deep water to his doom. And he felt the same way. Something was wrong here. He knew it all the way to the core of his being, but he was baffled as to what was making him feel this way. Hossen gave him an odd look that told him his companion did not agree with his assessment of the situation. But the innkeeper still stuck by him.