Book of Seth: Pilgrimage: A Fallen Chronicles Book

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by Dan O'Brien




  Book of Seth:

  Pilgrimage

  Dan O’Brien

  © 2015 Dan O’Brien

  “Would he be a hero or a villain? Would the world bow at his feet?”

  -Musings of the Traveler, Previously of the Blue Hand

  I awoke with a start. A sheet draped over top of me. Pushing my body up as best I could, I felt heat and pressure in my chest. Looking down, I realized that white bandages covered my chest; they were tightly wound from just underneath my arms down over my navel. Breathing out hard, a prickling sensation coursed through my lungs.

  My breath caught and I leaned back with a heavy sigh.

  The far door opened with a gentle sound. A few footsteps later, a face loomed over me; it was a face I knew well. “Seth.” Ryan’s voice was haggard, worn.

  “Where are we?” I asked weakly.

  “Heading back toward Duirin,” he replied as he reached alongside the wall of the infirmary. Pulling a steel chair close to the bedside, he sat down, lounging against the back support.

  “I’m not sure really wanted happened back there….”

  “You crashed into the side of this vehicle and ricocheted back into the tunnels walls. From what we can tell, it knocked you unconscious. You have been out for several hours. It took us that much time to get to the surface.”

  I had many questions, but could not ask them all at once. “How long have I been gone?”

  “Weeks.”

  “Leane?” I saw her face again as I had when I crashed.

  “She’s fine. Probably had the baby while we were gone.” Ryan’s face darkened and his eyes glistened with tears.

  “What is the matter, Ryan?”

  “Summer….” he replied with a hoarse whisper.

  “Where is she?”

  His sorrow was daunting. Ryan turned, remaining silent. Sighing deeply, there was a stutter as he tried to breathe.

  “No,” I whispered, realizing the source of his sadness, of his misery.

  “Culouth mercenaries caught us in the tunnels. We would not have made it if she had not stopped them.” Ryan turned away again.

  “I am sorry, Ryan.” The words caught in my throat.

  “As long as we get what we came south for her loss will not be in vain.”

  He meant the Believer. “We will, Ryan. As soon as I am rested, we will find the Shaman.”

  “I will make them pay,” he replied darkly, his fists clenched. The hatred in his eyes was a contrast to the tears that dried beneath them.

  The interior door slid aside again, though this time I had propped myself up.

  I saw Hugo’s wild mane and smiled despite the circumstances. “The legend awakens,” he called with mirth as he moved forward.

  I extended my hand weakly. “I hope that my brother did not give you grief for leaving me behind.”

  Ryan flashed a surprised grimace at me for seeing through him so easily.

  “He was right. Though it seems you fared well enough on your own,” conceded Hugo.

  “I managed,” was all that I could spare.

  “Chren wanted me to tell you that we will be in Duirin within the hour.” Hugo paused before he continued. “Thank you, Seth. I owe you my life. If you had not…”

  “You are a good man.” I interrupted him. Lowering my neck and back onto the sheets once more, I sighed and crossed my hands on my chest. “The choice was rather simple.”

  “The sweepers will come, Seth.” It was Ryan who spoke these words.

  I would have expected it to escape Hugo’s or Fredrick’s lips.

  “They may. They may not.” I had many other worries.

  “Did Jabo survive?” Hugo still hesitated in speaking the man’s name.

  “No. He is dead, Hugo.”

  “They know Duirin is a safe haven. They will begin looking for us there. You can be sure of it.” Ryan seemed apprehensive.

  “We need to get there faster, warn them of what is coming. Then, we need to leave.” I rubbed my temples.

  “We flee…that is your plan?” exclaimed Hugo.

  “No, Hugo, we do not. Only Ryan and I will leave,” I replied.

  “Do you think the sweepers will just disappear?” Ryan did not sound convinced.

  “No, I imagine there will be quite some pushing and name calling. In the end, they will be looking for me; and I won’t be there, will I? We will speak more of this when we reach Duirin.” I felt a wave of nausea and shut my eyes, the darkness a comfort.

  “Are you not feeling well?” asked Ryan.

  I dare not open my eyes. I knew that the light would just bring more pain. “I need more rest. I have to be ready to go south soon.” I could feel the walls closing in on me, bringing with it a sense of overwhelming claustrophobia. I opened my eyes slightly; the light was too powerful now. “Wake me when we reach the edge of town. I wish to be coherent when I see my child.”

  THE EDGE OF DUIRIN came quickly. Ryan was above me, shaking my shoulder lightly, calling my name. I shook my head, pushing away his hand with a wave of mine. Wiping at my eyes, the dryness was irritating. I pushed myself to a seated position, gripping the sheets in a tight bunch.

  “Already, huh?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “Are we within the walls now?” I asked, pushing myself from the bed. The headache remained.

  Ryan moved close to the rear panel; a tinted strip shielded what little light came through. He gestured with a wide arc of his hand. “Have a look.”

  I looked out through the back panel and watched the streets of Duirin, realizing for the first time that it was a rather large place. Buildings stretched far into the distance. People wandered the streets. “This place truly is a safe haven.”

  “Leane will be happy to see you.” His words were hollow.

  “She will be happy to see the both of us, Ryan.” I tried to sound reassuring.

  Ryan shook his head. I felt the Series 4500 come to a stop, the suddenness of it forcing me to my feet. I flashed a tight grimace at Ryan. “It appears we are here,” I mused, trying to sound as jovial as I possibly could.

  “It would appear so,” replied my brother as I moved past him.

  A door opened into a corridor. The metallic hallways were a dull color and the sound of our footfalls against them echoed in my mind like the pounding of a hammer upon an anvil. I saw Fredrick, Hugo, and Chren standing near the bay doors. Their faces were a mixture of uncertainty and joy. I nodded as I passed. The light that emerged from the open doors intensified the dull ache in my head. Raising my hands, I shielded my eyes. It was far brighter than I had anticipated. The throbbing in my skull increased exponentially and my stomach churned as I walked down the ramp. Pedestrians watched us for a moment and then carried on. Their faces blurred together until I saw Dean by the infirmary. He waved at us and I moved toward him, my right hand still held shielding my eyes.

  “You have returned to us,” he spoke.

  “In so many pieces,” I mused as best I could.

  Chren and Hugo moved out from behind Fredrick and caught Dean’s attention immediately. “You have brought some friends?” he queried.

  I turned, gesturing to Chren and then to Hugo. “Chren helped maneuver this monstrosity here to get us to safety. This old man is Hugo, my wayward cellmate at the Citadel.”

  Dean nodded to each in turn, albeit hesitantly. He looked at me intently. “Please speak to me alone, Seth.”

  “What?” Anger seeped into my voice.

  “Please.” His eyes pleaded, as did his voice.

  I moved aside, nodding to the others.

  “You would bring these strange men here�
��”

  I interrupted him. “These men helped me escape. They need a place to hide.” He tried to object, but I silenced him with a wave of my hand. “They are after me. I will be far from these walls when the sweepers come looking.”

  “I mean no disrespect, Seth. I just worry for the people of Duirin.”

  “Where is Leane?” I snapped. I had waited so long that it felt as if nothing else mattered.

  “Three buildings down, the one marked 514. It has a green door with white trim,” he replied quickly.

  Looking down the street, the green door immediately stood out. “I see it. Dean, do me favor…”

  “Of course, Seth.” He interrupted me. “What can I do for you?”

  “Find a place for them. They need shelter.”

  Dean nodded as I moved past, not bothering to speak to me again.

  I moved along the hard-packed road of Duirin. Then, all of the weeks melted away and I stood in front of her door. The faded numbers were cracked. For a moment, I felt a flush in my stomach. It was a strange feeling. I didn’t know whether I should just open the door or knock. Her sudden presence inside the doorway startled me and I felt the flush again. I was embarrassed despite my better judgment.

  “Seth.” Her words were gentle and filled with emotion. She moved out from behind the cover of the doorway; cradled in her arms was a small child––my child. Brown hair covered his pale head; and as he tilted his head to stare at me, I saw the pale blueness of his eyes.

  “By the Believer,” I whispered.

  Leane looked at the baby boy cradled in the crook of her arm. She smiled. “This is your son, Seth Armen.”

  Moving closer to the child, I reached out to caress his cheek. “He is beautiful, Leane.”

  “He has your eyes,” she spoke with a glimmer in her eyes.

  “And your hair.” The baby had not made a noise since I had walked to the terrace. He continued to just stare at me with wide eyes, transfixed by my face. “What is his name?” I whispered. I did not wish to raise my voice and disturb the child’s peaceful, though unrelenting, gaze.

  “I had not named him yet. I was waiting for you to return,” she replied.

  I looked up with surprise. “That is something every great man needs.”

  “Please come inside, Seth. You standing out here is chivalrous and polite, but we have much to talk about.”

  Grinning and bowing my head slightly, I walked inside; she shut the door behind me. The room was far darker than it had been outside. The walls were painted white. They appeared to be constructed of wood and stone. Leane came up beside me, still gingerly holding the child. She looked at me with glassy eyes.

  “I didn’t think you would return,” she cried. Her voice trembled as she lowered her head. A tear traced her cheek and landed on the wraps that held the child.

  “I could not leave you alone,” I replied. “I thought of you every moment. I could not rest until I knew you were both safe.”

  She looked back up at me, her glassy still running with tears.

  I touched her face with my dirty hands and stroked her cheek. Her eyes closed. She nuzzled toward my touch as I wiped away the tears.

  “Would you like to hold him?” she spoke softly.

  As she opened her eyes, I pulled my hand back. Looking at the child was one thing, but to hold him was something else altogether. I was scared. “Will I hurt him?” I asked awkwardly.

  “No, just hold your arms out and cradle his neck,” she replied.

  I did as she said and felt the weight of the boy. He was like a feather in my arms. Looking down into his wide blue eyes, I knew that I had to keep him safe. “He is so light,” I marveled, holding him gently. My back arched; my muscles were tense. I looked up to meet her eyes and saw the comical look on her face. “What is wrong?”

  “Don’t be so tense. You look as if you are ready for him to jump from your arms,” she teased. “It was the custom of my family for the letter E to be placed before the name of the first male child.” I saw sadness in her eyes, a longing to return to a home that no longer welcomed us.

  “Do you wish to place an E before his name as your father would have done to his son?”

  “Yes,” she answered quietly.

  “What shall follow?”

  “It should be something from your heritage, your family line,” she responded.

  Sitting back against a comfortable-looking chair, I contemplated this. Her words brought forth an image of my father and the words he had spoken of my grandfather, of the warrior Malkai. I knew that another Armen should carry his name. “Malkai.”

  She looked surprised, as if she had never heard the name.

  I looked back at her, still holding the boy gently in my arms. “It was my grandfather’s name, my father’s father. He was a great man, a warrior of legend.”

  “E’Malkai,” she spoke absently.

  Hearing the name spoken, I knew that was what he must be called. I turned and paced, gently rocking E’Malkai in my arms and whispering his name like a mantra. “My son,” I spoke as I stopped.

  Standing at my full height, I looked down into his innocent and trusting eyes. At that moment, looking down into my son’s eyes, I knew that there was no time left. I had come to the edge of the cliffs, to the crossroads of my life. My face must have mirrored the sudden change because Leane was immediately at my side. She placed her hand on my arm, the gentle touch a comfort. “What’s the matter, Seth?”

  “I have to leave.”

  She looked at me sadly. “You have just come back to us. I cannot lose you again.”

  I took another look at E’Malkai, trying to imprint every curve of his face. Handing him back to Leane, she accepted him with a frown.

  “We journeyed south for a reason.”

  “You have another family now. Your place is here with us.” Her eyes pleaded though her voice was strong and even.

  “I must do one more thing to keep us all safe.”

  My words drew only a stern gaze from Leane. The sadness just below the surface was like a raging fire. “You would keep us safe by remaining here.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she waved away any words with a swipe of her hand as she continued. “However, it is apparent that you shall not. E’Malkai is a gift.”

  “I know that.”

  “Is it truly necessary that you go? Couldn’t Summer journey just as easily?”

  “The dreams would say otherwise,” I replied. I paused, wondering how to explain what happened. “Summer has fallen.”

  Leane gasped. She stared at me with wide eyes and placed E’Malkai into a crib to her left. The interior was coated in delicate fabrics that covered all sides. There was a swollen pillow for his head. “How? When?” she asked.

  “It happened in the tunnels east of here. They were ambushed by a legion of mercenaries.”

  “He must be devastated,” she whispered. Falling into a seat beside me, she rested her hands on her lap. “These dreams you speak of….”

  “They began before we left the Fallen.”

  “And they continue still?” she questioned, concern evident in her eyes.

  “I had another on the way back. A being called Culouth spoke of the real truth of the Armen line….” I trailed off.

  “What truth?” She turned toward me.

  I sighed, not wishing to speak of the inevitability of things. “I saw my father. He spoke of my grandfather, Malkai, and how he was a changed man after returning from the south. He became a man consumed by energy and power.” I hesitated before continuing. “My father told me that it was necessary for me to go south.”

  “By the Believer,” she whispered.

  “They are only dreams, Leane.”

  “You still travel south?” she queried with a tight smile.

  I stood and moved toward the covered window, pulling aside the dark material that masked the sunlight. “This is something I must do.”

  She moved towards and wrapped her arms around my waist. Then, she l
eaned her head against my shoulder. I found that I wanted her to be there; her presence made me more comfortable than I could have imagined.

  “I understand, Seth.”

  I turned, pulling her closer into my arms. Her head rested on my chest; she closed her eyes. I could feel her tears through my faded wraps. As she pulled away, I lifted the ragged ends of clothing and smirked.

  Despite the tears in her eyes, she cocked her head mockingly. “I love you dearly, but I have to say…” she began, pinching her nose between her forefingers. “You smell something fierce, even for a seasoned warrior.”

  Together we laughed, our voices fading with the light of the day giving way to the night.

  DAWN CAME SOONER than I would have wanted. I watched Leane sleep. The time spent here in the Duirin had watched her hair grow long, far down her back. I touched her hand lightly, drawing a hushed murmur form her lips. I pulled back instinctively, not wanting to wake her when she slept so soundly. I wished to stay there and look at her for all eternity, until the skies crashed down upon us.

  Our night together had been everything that I had hoped for; still, I felt cheated that I would not have it forever.

  I swung my legs over the bed as nimbly as I could, looking down at my pale torso in the burgeoning morning sun that crept through the tinted windows of the home. Scars traced my chest and along my ribcage. I ran my fingers over them, the darkened outlines a reminder of the past. Fresh wounds, bandaged and healing, joined the violent mosaic. Pushing myself from the bed, I was upon my feet. I replaced the sheets over Leane’s frame, making sure she kept the warmth near her.

  I looked down at her until I could no longer bear the sight. Knowing that I must leave, I grabbed a shirt from beside the bed. I pulled the pants over my legs and then the dull-colored boots over my feet. The laces were made from a coarse material. I closed my eyes; the urge to return to her, to forget about the dreams and the Believer, was overwhelming.

  Bending down, I kissed her on the forehead. I walked into the common room, fighting the emotion that threatened to overwhelm me. The picturesque beauty of my child distracted me. E’Malkai was a gift. His bright blue eyes stared back at me as clearly as the morning sky and his tiny hands reached up to me. He did not cry out as some children might; instead, he regarded me with a curious intelligence. I reached down and he gripped my finger in his entire fist. All I could do was marvel at the child who would someday become a man, an Armen.

 

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