Journey of Awakening

by Shawna Thomas

  “It’ll take us a several days to reach the Faisach and several more days to the narrowest part. That’s when we cross.”

  She stared at Zeynel. Had he read her thoughts or was it another coincidence? Sara had stopped believing in coincidence. Besides, he’d seen her staring at the great expanse visible between the trees. Never underestimate the power of observation.

  “Zeynel, when are you going to tell me what you know about the stone?”

  “I was merely waiting for you to ask. You’ve been hinting, asking around it like a deer scenting for danger, but never directly.” He didn’t turn around. “Sara, be direct.”

  Sara stared at his back. What in Gindean’s keep? But he was right, she’d been asking about the riddle, about the she in the riddle, but never directly about the stone. Why?

  “Have you determined what’s hindering you yet?”

  “By the gods, Zeynel, half the time, you seem to know what I’m thinking.” Sara stopped. “What are you?”

  He turned, his expression dangerous. “Do not swear by the gods, Sara. I am me. The more interesting question would be: Who do you think I am?” He began a steady pace down the incline.

  Sara followed. “Someone who speaks in riddles.”

  Silence stretched as they marched down the path. Small, stunted scrub oak replaced the towering pines, exposing green grasses and colorful wildflowers. By habit, Sara kept on the lookout for herbs she could use in healing. She caught up with Zeynel. His company was already comfortable, as though they’d been traveling together a long time. She knew this man could answer most if not all of her questions, but she was hesitant. Did something hinder her? She’d had plenty of time to think since she left Shayner. More time than was probably good for her. The journey to the mainland, finding the stones had been more her grandfather’s quest. She’d seen it as an adventure, like something she’d read in a book. Even after her grandfather died and she determined to continue, she’d been propelled by his momentum. Going through the motions. People had died and the quest no longer felt like she was acting out a story; it was all too real and bigger than she was. She’d determined to keep those around her from harm, so she distanced herself from everyone. Make no friends; put no one in danger.

  And then came Zeynel, who challenged her on many levels. This quest required some risk. Some trust and yes, danger. Perhaps that’s why the old peddler irritated her so much. His nature didn’t allow her to go through any motions. He accepted nothing less than honesty, starting with being honest with herself. She’d once said that she’d finish the task or join her grandfather in the deadlands. Did she mean it? It was time to make a choice. Either she put everything she was into finding the Siobani, or she gave up on reuniting the stones and found a nice village, settled down and raised a family. Maybe I am afraid. The idea left a bad taste in her mouth. Damn it.

  “Zeynel, who are your people? How do you know about the stone and the Siobani and what did you mean when you said I called you?”

  “You are learning.” Zeynel met her gaze. “Very good questions. I will tell you when we make camp tonight.”

  Sara stared after Zeynel’s retreating back. Unbelievable. She shook her head and followed him down the narrow trail toward the forbidding Faisach and answers.

  * * *

  Firelight warmed the planes of Zeynel’s worn face. He’d said very little while they made camp and settled by the fire once their evening meal was eaten.

  Without prologue, he began. “My people have been called many things, in many languages, but in my own, we are Shamyrddin-enki. Keepers of the path.”

  “Shamyrddin-enki.” Sara tried the name on her tongue. It felt ancient. She settled across from him, her elbows resting on crossed legs.

  “It has been long since I’ve heard my speech. Thank you.”

  “Keepers of the path? What path?”

  He waved his hand from one horizon to another. “The path. Life. Nature. We move in and through Teann. We breathe it as air, it bathes us as water. I knew of your coming. The great waters dim the stone’s call, but once you started your journey, I heard once again the song of Ilydearta like music on the wind. I felt you use the stone. Ripples in Teann growing, not fainter but strong and deep. I was looking for you when you called me.”

  “Wait!” Used the stone? What was he talking about? “I haven’t used the stone. I don’t even know how.”

  “I am aware of that, and yet you did.”

  “And I called you? How?”

  “Yes. With the stone.”

  “But—”

  “I realize you do not know how you did it. We will leave that for another day. I do not want you to try to use it again.”

  “How am I supposed to not use it when I don’t know how I used it in the first place?” She tried and failed to keep frustration from her voice.

  “That—” Zeynel peered back at her, “—is a very good question.”

  Sara didn’t quite stifle the sigh. “Getting answers from you is like pulling teeth.”

  “Answers are more appreciated and better remembered when they’ve been worked for.”

  “Have I worked hard enough yet?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Listen, Zeynel.” Sara threw a small stick into the flames, absently noting the sparks that ascended into the night. “I may not have understood this task from the beginning. I don’t know why this stone came to me in the first place, but people I love have died because of it.” She swallowed past a lump in her throat. “You said my first task was to learn to use the stone. If you can teach me, then teach me. I want to find the Siobani. I will do whatever is necessary to accomplish that and be done so the deaths of my loved ones haven’t been in vain.”

  “Do you think they died in vain?” His voice softened. “They did not.”

  “They were innocent.”

  Zeynel nodded his agreement. “It’s not always necessary to completely understand the why of something. This is the first lesson you must learn. Some things are beyond reason, at least yours. Their deaths had a purpose just as their lives did.”

  “How can death have a purpose? They were slaughtered. That doesn’t make sense.”

  “From your perspective, perhaps. How can you see all angles when you are limited to your own?”

  Sara snorted. “Are you telling me to have faith?”

  Zeynel’s laugh once again rang through the forest. “Faith? Perhaps not with the meaning you give it. But yes. Some things require faith. Especially those things that reach beyond our understanding—or did you think you were the most powerful or knowledgeable force in Anatar?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself either. You have the potential to be powerful.”

  “But I don’t want—”

  “Life is seldom about what we want. Haven’t you learned that yet? And as far as reading your mind, I can’t. Let’s just say you remind me of someone I knew a long, long time ago.”

  Sara sighed. He hadn’t exactly answered her original questions, but at least they were getting somewhere. “You were looking for me?”

  “Yes. Does that surprise you?” He stared at her, one eyebrow arched, losing itself in silver bangs. “My people were given this task long, long ago. The balance of Teann has been broken. The three stones must be reunited, or the land will fail.”

  Sara gazed around her. “I’ve heard that, yet I’ve been wandering the land for some time and it looks pretty healthy to me.” Maelys had mentioned a sickness too, but Sara had never discovered it.

  “You are judging by what you see with your eyes.” He rose to his feet and beckoned with his hand. “Let me show you something.”

  She stood and followed him a short distance to a towering tree.

  “Place your hand on the tree.”
/>   She followed his instruction. The rough bark bit into her palm. Zeynel gently placed his hand over hers. Warmth seeped through his touch, heating her hand and moving up her arm. Her hand began to tingle slightly but appeared unchanged.

  “Close your eyes, Sara. You rely too much on sight.”

  After a short hesitation, Sara complied. The tingling increased and slowly she realized the warmth wasn’t from Zeynel’s hand but from the tree. The sense of something ancient and regal sent a jolt of awe through her body. The tingling subsided, replaced by a soft pulse of energy. Waves of serenity washed over her. It was the life beat of the tree, ancient beyond her understanding. It reached down into the earth, drawing life and returning it to the heavens as part of a greater cycle. Completion. Life. Purpose. Tears of happiness filled her eyes.

  Then the pulse hiccupped, jarring her. A shudder racked her body and unease iced her limbs. Her hand began to shake. Darkness wove through the green and golden images that had filled her mind. The light shrank away from the darkness but eventually succumbed. A sob escaped Sara’s throat.

  “Enough.” The voice was quiet but heavy with command. Sara’s hand fell from the tree.

  She wiped her eyes, surprised to find her face wet with tears. “What was that?”

  He shrugged. “There is no name for it. Discord, disharmony. It is what we struggle against. One of the stones is being used to increase this destruction.”

  “If we do not find the other stones, this...discord will take over nature?”

  “Yes, but again, you do not see the whole picture. It is not just the trees, the animals, the land that suffers. Men are also part of nature. Hearts are turning ever more to seek the good of the individual. Men do what they like with no regard to anyone else. Certain men become powerful and seek to rule others.”

  “But there have always been rulers...”

  “Yes, but a true ruler is a servant to his or her people. Not one who seeks power for power’s sake or the luxury it provides.”

  “If I find the other stones, and reunite them, the...the discord will stop.”

  Zeynel hesitated. “It is the beginning. Yes.”

  “You’re going to help me?”

  “Our quests are of like purpose, yes. Mine is to find and prepare you. Yours is to reunite the stones.”

  “You are my teacher?”

  “Yes, and you are mine.” Zeynel’s gaze was steady. “My task, one of them, is to teach you the language of Teann. Once learned, it will be up to you to listen, or not.”

  “But how did I call you?”

  “That stone you have, do you know what it’s for?”

  Sara hesitated. “No, not really. Grandfather searched, but couldn’t find much information beyond a few sparse legends and what my father had told him.”

  “I’m not surprised. What was has been lost or destroyed.” Zeynel stared into the flames before continuing. “If there is a way, Ilydearta will find it. A way to understand, a way to learn, a way to heal.” He paused. “You wanted someone to teach you of Teann, no?”

  She nodded.

  “Ilydearta found a way and our paths crossed. Have you, since you’ve acquired the necklace, had stronger intuition? Have you expressed a need for something, and discovered a way was opened for you to acquire that very thing?”

  Sara swallowed, remembering when she’d first heard about Maelys. Puzzle pieces slotted into place so rapidly she felt dizzy. Sara had wanted to find someone who might know about the Siobani, she found Maelys. She had wanted a way to cure Pierric, she found one. Even in the ocean, half-drowned, she wanted to find land. A way. If there is a way, Ilydearta will find it. She took a few cleansing breaths. “It’s like if I capture one of the hidden people, an Airydh. I make a wish and it comes true?”

  “If I understand you, it’s not quite as simple as that, and real Airydh are not all that compliant, captured or no.” He smiled. “Ilydearta harmonizes with Teann. It uses the keeper’s skills, intuition and knowledge in accordance with Teann to create balance. However, the opposite is also true and much discord can come from misusing a stone.”

  “Maelys said Teann was neither good nor evil. It could be twisted by the one using it. The stones are the same? Each can be twisted by its keeper?”

  “Yes. Further, each stone was created to work with one another. Apart, their power is diminished, balance interrupted. That is one reason they must be reunited. You are Ilydearta’s keeper. The first in many, many seasons. Indeed since the Siobani held the stone many lifetimes ago.”

  “Is that what you meant when you said ‘You are she’? You think I am this Wanderer in your poem who will rescue Anatar?”

  “I don’t think anything, and I never said you could rescue Anatar. You are right, no one person or stone can do that.

  Sara laughed.

  “What is so funny?”

  “I am no legend in a poem. I’m a simple girl who was raised on an island away from everyone.”

  “Do you think anyone who has done anything great is born knowing they will one day be a legend, or even seeking that end?”

  “Well...no.”

  “You were protected on the island and that protection may have saved your life. But it is time. You are ready.”

  Sara shuddered. Her words, spoken so often to her grandfather and now thrown back at her. “I’m not so sure I’m ready.”

  “You are the keeper of one of the Triune Stones, a master of Shi’ia and skilled in the healing arts.”

  She was tempted to remind him she wasn’t a true healer and he was more a master of Shi’ia than she’d ever be. She took a deep breath instead. “So why don’t you want me to use the stone, and how am I supposed to learn to use it unless I do?”

  “Because the other stone wearers can sense you. When you use the stone, it becomes a beacon.”

  A flash of Maelys’s face when the healer told her Pierric and Nolwen had been killed crossed her vision. “I know. The red man,” she whispered. “He slaughtered an entire village looking for me.”

  Zeynel was next to her in a heartbeat, his face urgent. “Have you seen him?”

  “No. Only his silhouette, and only in my dreams.” Unease crept over her limbs. “And once in the stone.” Did she tell Zeynel of the strange attraction she had toward the man? That she almost missed the dreams? The idea of voicing it aloud filled her with shame. Don’t say anything, Sara.

  “He shields himself from you.”

  She looked up to see Zeynel’s blue eyes searching her face. Goose bumps covered Sara’s arms. “Teach me to shield myself like he does.”

  “I will, but I don’t want you to use the stone until you learn to shield yourself. Once you learn, your task is twofold. First you must learn Ilydearta, then you must learn Teann.”

  “And then I need to find the Siobani?”

  “That will happen after you’ve completed the first two tasks.”

  “I see. Easy as waking in the morning.”

  Zeynel stared at the stars for a moment. “The One preserve me,” he muttered. “Let’s begin. Close your eyes and imagine yourself, sitting here. Re-create as much detail as you can. Try to remember every rock around you, how your hair flows over your shoulder. Every detail counts.”

  Sara did as she was instructed, but when she focused on one detail, another faded away. She’d never before taken the time to imagine her own appearance, the exact color of her hair or the way she dressed. She washed, dressed and braided her long hair and then disappeared from her own thoughts.

  “It will take time, but one day you will be able to see yourself behind your lids in perfect detail,” Zeynel said.

  Yeah, right. Maybe in two hundred years. Once she had a reasonable representation of herself fixed her in mind, she said, “Okay, now what.”

  “Build
a wall around you and the stone.”

  “A wall? With what?”

  “Excellent question. The choice of material is up to you.”

  Without opening her eyes, she examined the surroundings. Tall trees disappeared into a sky filled with stars and the occasional cloud. Bracken littered the side of the path, no doubt hiding myriad of tiny creatures. Her gaze settled on the large rocks near the path. In her mind, she rose and began to collect the rocks, placing them in a pile. Once she had a collection, she began building a wall around her, stopping only when she could no longer reach the top.

  “Good. What did you use?”

  Sara opened her eyes. “Stone.”

  “Interesting. Why not wood?” Zeynel’s blue gaze regarded her steadily

  “I don’t know. Should I have chosen wood?”

  “No. As I said, the choice was yours. Wood is a bit more flexible. Stone is solid and sturdy. Visit this wall every morning to make sure it is in good repair. This will help to hide Ilydearta and you from prying eyes, even when you use the stone.”

  “Are walls like these why I can’t sense the other keepers?”

  “Yes. Now will you tell me how you came by the stone?”

  The change of subject shocked her to silence. Sara cleared her throat then relayed the story her grandfather told her.

  “Interesting, very interesting.” He gazed somewhere in the distance.

  “You said your people were appointed this task. Where are they now?”

  He stared toward the horizon his face a mask, blue eyes guarded and quiet. Finally Zeynel turned, his gaze heavy.

  “I am the only one who remains.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sara sat against a stunted tree, its lower branches a handbreadth above her head. The vast wasteland of the Faisach stretched out before her. The golden expanse broken only by ochre and deeper brown, jagged rocks. The sun set far to the west, tinting the sky in vivid reds and orange. As far as she could see, the tree she was leaning against was the last they’d encounter on the Faisach.

  Zeynel had suggested they make camp early and set off into the Faisach in the morning before the sun rose. Sara had agreed. She glanced to their packs and did a mental inventory. Dried fruit and dried meat, enough to last for several weeks, oiled canvas, plenty of fresh greens, a few tubers and her medicine pouch. She had her weapons, Zeynel carried his staff and his own sword, but amid their combined possessions, they had only one water skin.