Isandra glanced at the mahne again. Even the cover of this copy was different from the one the Magi possessed. It was less decorative, simpler, if that were possible. When she had first seen it, she had questioned whether it was the same, but she had read each page, and it resonated with her the same way that the mahne always had. There was wisdom within the pages and knowledge that came from over a thousand years. It was the foundation of everything that was Magi—and the Urmahne.
“Now that I see it, I wonder why this particular text became the basis for the Urmahne religion.”
“Because it is all that you had,” Rebecca said.
She stood and pulled two books from the shelves, then returned to her seat. She passed the two books over to Isandra. They were both slender but covered with thick leather, and the pages within were nearly as thick as the leather. They were old, that much she knew with certainty.
“Imagine what you would have believed had these books been the founding of your religion.”
Isandra opened the first of the books and flipped through the pages. They were written in the ancient language, and difficult for her to decipher. She wasn’t nearly as familiar with the language as others who studied it more regularly. For the briefest moment, she considered asking Jostephon to translate, but she wouldn’t be able to trust what he told her anyway. “What’s written here?”
Rebecca leaned toward her and tapped on the first book that Isandra held. “This one describes hunting groeliin. It was written by the earliest of my people. The gods tasked us with that purpose. But if you were to read those words, would you believe that you were tasked with the same purpose?”
She shook her head. “The Magi never hunted the groeliin.”
“Are you certain? Your founding took place at the same time as the Antrilii founding. Your ancestors were warriors, much like mine. The threat was the same. The only difference was that yours decided to lay down their arms, and opted for peace, whereas mine continued to fight.”
There was no bitterness in Rebecca as she said that, even though there could have been. The Magi ancestors had abandoned fighting, and in doing so, they relied upon the Antrilii to continue to protect the north, fending off the groeliin over centuries.
The names of those ancient ancestors rolled through her head. They were ingrained to every young Mage. The Founders. Even as she tried to ignore the names that came through her mind, they were there.
“Why do you think the Magi laid down their weapons?” Isandra asked.
“Because the gods asked them to.”
It was a simple statement, and it carried the faith of the Antrilii. Their devotion to the gods had surprised Isandra.
Isandra stared at the book and switched it out, pulling out the other. As she flipped through its pages, she recognized a few more words within, though still did not understand them completely. “What does this one say?”
Rebecca smiled. “This speaks of grain storage.” When Isandra arched a brow at her, Rebecca shrugged. “It is equally ancient and written in much the same hand as the others, but no one would ever worship and create a religion based on what is written in these pages.”
Isandra met Rebecca’s eyes. The Antrilii woman was deeply intelligent, as well as deeply spiritual. In that, they were not so different. She had come north for protection and had found much more than she ever would have imagined.
Endric knew, though.
What would he do when he arrived?
What would she do when the Denraen and Alriyn arrived?
She hadn’t given that much thought. Perhaps it was time for her to do so. She had stayed looking for answers, and now she had come up with some, enough to know that if she were to remain, there were even more answers that she might uncover. But wasn’t it time for her to return to Vasha?
Why was it that she felt a growing reluctance at that idea?
“The Magi have served their purpose over the last several hundred years. It is much like how the Antrilii have served our purpose.”
Isandra sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the books in her lap. There was purpose, but she felt as if there was something else that she had missed.
“You are uncertain.”
Isandra looked up and met Rebecca’s eyes. The Antrilii woman’s sharp mind pierced through the veil of Isandra’s hesitancy. “I am uncertain,” she agreed. “Others from my homeland have been summoned, and…”
Rebecca laughed. It was an easy sound, and full of amusement. With everything that the Antrilii had faced, all the suffering that they had experienced, all the loss, they still managed to laugh easily. “You fear that you no longer belong. That is a common fear. We see that even here.”
“But the Antrilii have a sense of purpose. How could any of your people sense a lack of belonging?”
Rebecca leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “The first time a warrior goes off and battles groeliin, they change. Darkness threatens everyone when they are forced to fight and forced to kill. There is no choice but to change.”
“How do you help your people adjust?”
“We help by supporting them and guiding them through it, showing them how they serve the gods in what they do. It is our purpose to stop the groeliin. That was the request that we were given, the requirement the gods placed on us. That is why we were gifted with the abilities that we have been.”
Isandra held Rebecca’s gaze. “The Magi feel that we have been gifted by the gods with abilities for a different reason. We feel the gods have asked us to establish and maintain peace.”
“Are these reasons so different?”
Isandra laughed this time. “The Antrilii carry swords and fight creatures out of a nightmare. The Magi preach peace and understanding. I would say they are quite different.”
“Only from the way you look at it. The Antrilii fight so that we may find peace. We do not fight for the joy of fighting. The Antrilii do not love the violence and destruction we must live with. All Antrilii long for the day when we will one day be able to lay down our swords, and perhaps join the Magi in the south, celebrating the peace of the gods.” She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Until that time, we are willing to do what is asked of us. It is much like what the Magi have done.”
Isandra didn’t see it, but perhaps it wasn’t for her to see. “You will welcome other Magi to Farsea?”
Rebecca nodded slowly. “The world is changing, Isandra of the Magi. We have fought for generations alone, and now the Magi have joined that fight once more. What else will change? We have seen how the groeliin have been driven, bred for dark intent, and their magic used in ways to gain power. We must welcome other changes, or we will fall behind what comes to us.”
Isandra marveled at the easy-going way the Antrilii handled everything. There had been changes—enough that the Magi had struggled with it. Not the Antrilii. They recognized that they needed to change with what happened, and they needed to adapt. It was something about their people that impressed Isandra.
“Before the Magi take Jostephon back south to Vasha, we need to understand what the Deshmahne were doing with the groeliin.”
Rebecca glanced over. “You have not discovered this?”
Isandra shook her head. “When I speak with him, he taunts me. He suggests that the gods are something other than what I believe, and makes offers to heal my abilities.”
“I imagine that is compelling.”
“I have come to terms with the fact that I have lost my connection.”
Rebecca studied her, her dark eyes piercing. “You’re head might have come to terms, but your heart has not.”
Isandra looked down at her hands. “Would I like my abilities back?” She fell silent for a long moment, trying to put words to what she felt. “There is an emptiness within me. I feel it when I focus on it. It’s like a memory, something that I know should be there, but is not. I’m thankful to the Yahinv for healing me as much as they could, but that doesn’t change the fact that I long for my con
nection once more. I think of how much I could do if I still had it, and how much I could still fight.”
“We have learned that often the weakest among us with their abilities is the fiercest warrior.”
“But wouldn’t the strongest have a better connection and be able to use that to stop the groeliin easier?”
Rebecca shrugged. “There are times when such combinations come together. Nahrsin is one. He is a fierce warrior, and quite powerful, as well. But that is unusual. Often, when someone has any real abilities, they become reliant on their connection to their abilities, and use that as a crutch, never mastering their other talents.”
“You think I could be a fierce warrior?”
Rebecca laughed, and Isandra tried to hide the hurt on her face.
“From what I hear, you already are a fierce warrior.”
They sat in silence for a while, neither of them saying anything, with Isandra focusing on the crackling of the flames in the hearth. There was something peaceful about it, a simplicity that she had rarely taken the time to enjoy as she should have.
After a while, she opened the mahne once more. Jostephon would answer her questions about the groeliin, as well as what he knew about the way that she’d been injured. If there were anything that could be done, she would learn what it was. She wasn’t willing to trade information, but she was willing to push him, and perhaps she could tempt him by what she had learned.
Rebecca watched her, saying nothing.
Chapter Seven
“The creature continues to grow,” Isandra said.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the newborn groeliin they’d taken from the cave. They kept it in a cell that was similar to Jostephon’s, and much like Jostephon’s, the groeliin’s was surrounded by merahl. Beyond having Antrilii keeping guard, the merahl would not allow the groeliin to escape and cause any damage. They eyed the groeliin with a strange sort of curiosity.
It had grayish skin, and the horrible features of every other groeliin she had ever seen but had none of the dark shadows swirling around it as she had seen from the groeliin while chasing them in the mountains. There was a hint, but little more than that. Even that hint she thought she could explain. The groeliin had been feeding on the destructive teralin when they found it.
Ever since bringing this one from the breeding grounds, they had kept it surrounded by the creative teralin, what some called positively charged. The effect was surprising. There was an animal-like quality to it, but it was not violent, and it hadn’t threatened to attack. It was almost docile. The creature was completely hairless, with strange eyes that looked at her with something she could almost call understanding. It unsettled Isandra.
“It does. The Yahinv feels that we should put it down,” Jassan said.
“What do you feel?”
Jassan shrugged. “The creature has shown no tendency to violence. It is calm.”
The question within him was clear. Jassan, like she, was unaccustomed to the groeliin not attacking with violence. Jassan more than she. The Antrilii had centuries of experience with the groeliin, and this creature was unlike any they had ever seen.
“We can’t put it down until we understand what will happen to it,” Isandra said. Even then, she wasn’t sure that they could put the creature down. If it wasn’t violent, and if it wasn’t attempting to destroy, why would they need to destroy the creature?
They simply wouldn’t.
Convincing the other Antrilii, and especially the Yahinv, would be crucial, but she wasn’t sure how she would accomplish that. First, they had to prove the creature wouldn’t be violent. Then, they could figure out the next step.
“Eventually, we will have to put it down. It is a groeliin. It will develop violence no differently than the others. They are born to it, Isandra.”
She arched a brow at him. “What if it doesn’t? What if the teralin allows it to develop in a different way?”
“Do you really believe teralin will work in such a fashion?”
Isandra didn’t know. Her understanding of teralin was limited, and as much as she wanted to believe that something else could be done, that they might have an alternative way of dealing with the threat of the groeliin, she knew much less than the Antrilii.
“We need more time,” she said.
Jassan nodded. “The Yahinv have granted you more time. If they hadn’t, the merahl would already have destroyed this creature.”
Isandra glanced at the three merahl positioned around the cage. Would they attack if the Yahinv asked it of them? The merahl were not commanded. They hunted groeliin, and they did so of their own volition, but there was a partnership between them and the Antrilii. It was that partnership that she would have to delve so that she understood what the Yahinv had planned for this creature.
“You continue to bring it fruits,” Jassan said, nodding to the basket that rested near her feet.
Isandra looked down. She had collected fruits from outside the city, gathering them so that she could offer something else for the groeliin to eat. So far, it had consumed water, and it seemed to feed somehow on the positively charged teralin, but it hadn’t eaten much. Eventually, she suspected the creature would have to eat something. She would rather that it ate fruit than anything else.
“You would have me bring it something else?”
Jassan shrugged. “We have other options. There is beef, and pork, and venison…”
Isandra smiled. “I know what types of meat you keep in Farsea.”
“Feeding this creature meat would not turn it into a carnivore. It was born that way.”
She wondered. Was it born that way? Were groeliin inherently destructive and evil, or was it what had happened to them over the years that made the creatures evil? She thought of men who had turned to darkness, even Jostephon. They were not necessarily evil at birth, but they had progressed into it.
“I find it hard to believe the gods would allow such a creature to exist. The gods want us to maintain peace. I can’t believe that they would create creatures like that, creatures that would be born to destroy what they had created.”
The alternative was even more troubling. The alternative meant that perhaps the gods had not created the groeliin, that either something else had, or they existed outside of what the gods have made. She didn’t think that possible, which meant that there had to be hope for the groeliin.
“You continue to surprise me, Isandra. You show tenderness and compassion with these creatures. You know what they have done, and what they would do if they were freed. You have nearly died facing them.”
She smiled at him. “You do yourself a disservice. The Antrilii allow this creature to remain near their homes. That alone tells me that your people have greater compassion than anything I could ever imagine. You have faced the groeliin for far longer than any other. You have suffered in ways that others cannot even understand.”
“Perhaps it is foolish to do so, but there is a part of me that hopes you will succeed. If you can find some way of calming the groeliin, of settling them so that they do not continue to attack, perhaps we will not need to continue our fight.” He smiled and shrugged his broad shoulders while gripping his sword. “Short of that happening, I’m prepared for what we might be asked to do. If we must fight, that is the task given to us by the gods. I am ready.”
Isandra lifted the basket of fruit and carried it toward the cage. The groeliin had never threatened to attack, and she didn’t fear to approach. The bars of teralin were different from those they used to contain Jostephon. With Jostephon’s, it was neutral teralin, the kind that had not yet been charged in either fashion, but with the groeliin’s, they intentionally had used the positively charged teralin, though it was less for containment and more about trying to influence the creature in such a way that it would not harm them.
She chose one of the fruits, this one an elongated fruit with a thick hide, and placed it between the bars, shaking it toward the groeliin. The creature watched her, it’s da
rk eyes penetrating in a way that told her it understood more than what the Antrilii gave it credit for.
“This is fruit,” she said. “Food.” She pulled the fruit back and bit into the skin. Juice dribbled down her chin, and she wiped it away. It had a sweetness to it that mixed with a hint of tart in a not unpleasant fashion. “You should try it,” Isandra said. She had attempted the same before, but the groeliin had never responded.
This time was no different.
Isandra sighed and placed the fruits so they would be in reach inside the holding cell. She considered taking the one that she had bitten into, but decided against it, and put it among the others.
“There may not be a way to reach the creature,” Jassan said.
Isandra looked back, shaking her head. “I have to think that there is. If the groeliin feed on the destructive teralin at birth, but for this single groeliin, we got to it in time… What if there is some way that we can salvage this one? And if that happens, can we salvage others? It’s like you said, if we can prevent those attacks, and if we can find some way to change the groeliin, the Antrilii might finally be able to rest.”
Jassan tipped his head. “We will continue to hope for peace, but prepare for battle. It is what we have done for centuries.” He smiled. “It is good that you search for hope. Without hope, those who search to destroy already win.”
They exited the cavern that held the groeliin, and Isandra stood in the sunlight, letting the warmth press upon her face. She was dressed as she usually was since coming to Farsea, in a heavy cloak, as well as the thick wool that the Antrilii preferred. She was comfortable in the clothes, and they suited her, especially the her as she was now. When the summoned Magi came, she knew she would have to decide whether to return to Vasha or remain with the Antrilii. The longer that she was here, the easier it was for her to stay.
The low howl of one of the merahl caught her attention, and she looked along the foothills, searching for a sign of the creature. There was nothing other than a call for companionship within the cry. It was echoed by another, and then another, the merahl announcing their presence, and Isandra smiled to herself.
The Last Conclave (The Lost Prophecy Book 6) Page 6