"My Lord Jesolin," came the slowly sensual voice, "you look, distracted. Are you still convinced you wish to continue with our morning session on this day?"
Making a smooth transition between then and now, Jesolin responded in a controlled and succinct voice, "Let us begin."
"But My Lord, should you not draw your sword first?" Vismorda taunted with a dripping sarcasm. Jesolin could tell she and Mordin held the power of the dark fountain. He sensed it within them. He held it as well, but he was shielding their perception of it, a tactic he had not revealed to them, and had no intention of revealing.
"Let. Us. Begin." Jesolin said with emphasis given to each word.
As fast as lightning itself, Mordin let fly the dark liquid in the form of a mental dagger aimed at the calmly advancing Jesolin. Mordin had grown strong. His dagger struck the defenses Jesolin had prepared with enough force to pause his concentration just long enough for Vismorda's timed strike to nearly connect with its intended target of his left leg. Paused, but not shaken, Jesolin parried both the physical strike by Vismorda and Mordin's mental onslaught. Allowing them to press the attack and exercise their offensive capability, he sank into the rhythm of the battle allowing his mind to drift and indulge.
Dodging the attack by the second archer, Jesolin extended his hands and disarmed him of his sword. As he did, he spun around and impaled the first archer square in the stomach right down to the hilt. Leaving the sword where it was, he picked up the bow and with the speed of the legendary Elven Red Legion, fired two arrows, one dropping the guard assisting Captain Vulin, and the other dropping the first archer. He tossed the bow to the ground to observe the scene of the Captain continuing to fend off the controlled guard.
"First Rank Mensin, this is not you. Can you not see he has control of you? I do not want to hurt you," the captain was saying between moments of pause during the fight. It was clear the Captain was more advanced with the sword and had no intention of killing the guard. As Jesolin realized this, he sent a command to the guard carried by the dark liquid bond. The guard stopped fighting, took three steps away from Captain Vulin, and waiting while still holding the weapon at his side.
"What have you done to him?" asked Captain Vulin between short, sharp breaths attempting to regain his lungs.
"Nothing I cannot do to you," Replied Jesolin in a voice of calm confidence.
"Why are you doing this? Those guards all had families. They were all good men. All we wanted to do was keep you safe," said the captain as he watched Jesolin and the controlled guard warily.
"Because he bids it," answered the boy, void of emotion.
"Who bids it? What are you talking about?" asked Captain Vulin.
"I am talking about the end of it all, my dear Captain. You see, nothing, not you, nor your good men, nor their families, not even myself actually matters. The only thing that does is following him."
"Following who? Who is doing this to you?"
"Captain Vulin, you are mistaken. It is not he who is doing something to me, but I who am doing something for him," Jesolin said as he allowed a small, devious grin to mark his lips.
The guard, still patiently waiting with sword in hand, reversed his grip and raised it high in the air. "What is he doing? Wait, what are you making him do?" said the captain who's attention had shifted and taken on a more desperate countenance.
With an inverted grip, the remaining guard placed the tip of his sword against his abdomen.
"First Rank Mensin! You do not have to do this! Think of your family!" Turning toward Jesolin he continued with his pleas, "Please, make him stop. This will not help your cause at all. If you stop, I will let you go free. Please, he is a good man."
Seeing the finality in Frist Rank Mensin's eyes, and seeing the small grin upon Jesolin's face, Captain Vulin knew there was nothing that would stop this horrible scene. So he tightened his grip on his sword and lunged for Jesolin with all the reserves of strength, breath, and hope he had left. Jesolin deflected the blade with a small motion of his hand. In that instant, he extended a tiny stream of dark liquid into the mind of the Captain as he had done with the guard, holding the captain in place only inches from himself. With the captain suspended in the grip of the dark liquid and under Jesolin's control, all he could do was watch as Jesolin mentally instructed the guard to slowly push the whole length of the blade into his gut. Slowly, inch by inch, the guard obeyed Jesolin's command without any hesitation or visible show of pain.
As the fallen guard's body ended its reflexive twitching, Jesolin turned his eyes upon the Captain and spoke in a horribly soft yet forcefully driven voice resonating within the center of fear inside the captain, "There is nothing you can do. All is inevitable. And all will yield. Feel the depth of me.”
At the conclusion of this last word, the captain was made to focus upon Jesolin's eyes, although he tried to resist. His mind and very soul plummeted for what seemed to be and endless duration of time. All around him was blackness, darker than any night he had witnessed in his forty five years of life. It was so dark, so complete, that it drank all the light around it, including all the light within him. Ages he fell through this abyss until he saw, in a time period far distant from him now, a single point of light. This point came rushing up toward him, growing in presence, size, and color. The light was now a dark blue, almost indigo, but certainly blue. As it approached, it engulfed the entirely of his existence allowing him to distinguish a flame at its center. The flame not only failed to produce any heat of its own, but it seemed to drink all the heat around it. Cold. He was beginning to feel cold and understood this flame of midnight blue was pulling the heat from his body. Colder he became. As the icy progression continued, he also began to feel hollow, as if his very soul was being sucked away. Fear. He now understood. This flame, this ever burning, ever freezing flame was consuming his soul. He was not just dying, he was ending. Black. All he could see was black and all he could do was fade into the inevitability of his end.
Accutsio (Abduction).
“Zyn. Zyn. Wake up, we need to go soon and you still have to get your hunting gear ready. You are not going to slow me down,” he said in a hushed but firm tone.
He was still annoyed at his mother’s insistence from their initial conversation wherein she stated the necessity of bringing his younger sister. This was not the weekly hunting trip they would take within the boundaries of Twin Oaks, the preeminent hunting province of the Silver Empire. No, this trip was entirely different and entirely unknown. Though at sixteen years of age, his younger sister had developed into an excellent hunter, possibly rivaling his own ability when he was the same age, she lacked one virtue that was preventing her from progressing. A virtue he repeatedly, and at great length, lamented upon to her – patience.
“Zyn! Zyn! I said to wake up!” he more loudly insisted as he began to shake her out of her slumber. “You said you were going to listen to me. You even promised our Drashin remember?” He had hoped that invoking the ancient name of Drashin instead of mother would inspire a greater reaction born from a greater sense of urgency within his sister. Yet her instinctive reaction of grabbing her covers and more tightly winding them around her shoulders was all his formality and urgency were able to produce.
Preceding her verbal protest with a loud groan, she whined, “I still do not know why we need to leave this early, Rony. Wherever we are going will still be there if we leave now or a couple of hours from now. Let me sleep.”
“Zyn. Zyn. Zyn,” he repeated in rhythm with his now more vigorous shaking.
“Rony! I said Let me sleep!” Her emphatic statement carried with it a degree of warning.
“Ok, Zyndalia,” he used her full name to carry his increasing annoyance. “I will let you sleep. But I am not waiting. If you want to come, you had better be ready when I am.” And with that, he stopped shaking her, stood up, and exited her chambers.
"You see, Drashin, this is why I had hoped you would let me go alone. Sh
e is going to be like this the whole time and will just slow me down," he said in the hope that his mother would finally relent to his initial request. But he knew she would remain solid in her conviction that his sister must accompany him. "It is already past when we should have left and we are wasting the better portion of the day waiting when I could have already been well on my way."
"Yes, Rony. You could have been on your way, and yes, you will travel more rapidly without your sister, but who will be there for you if something happens? When you need help, and you will, who will be there if you are alone? No, this is much too important to let you undertake on your own," she continued with a quiet forcefulness that surprised him.
"Yes, Drashin," he though better to relent to her quiet authority than to continue with his challenge.
About ten minutes later, though it felt more like ten hours to Rony, partly because of the urgency he felt, and partly because he and his mother were waiting in challenging silence regarding how long it would take her to emerge from her room, Zyndalia slowly and deliberately walked up to the two of them and said, "Well, what are we waiting for? Let us depart brother of mine. We have much to do and I cannot be left waiting for you every step of the way."
Her mother smiled and almost chuckled had it not been for the dismal expression on her son's face. Because most of their emotions were felt and expelled last night on the porch, there was not much left to be said or done between the three of them except to embrace for one final time. As they did, some small tears were produced, but nothing like the deluge from the previous eve. All three of them wiped their eyes and hung upon the moment in an attempt to freeze their picture and have it painted upon their hearts forever, or at least until they were reunited.
In unison, Ronialdin and Zyndalia departed by making a slow turn away from their mother, walking toward the northwest, the direction they had all decided would produce the greatest chance of finding a new home. Before reaching the forest and thus, the limit of their mother's sight, Rony had looked back twice, and Zyn twice as many. Each time they did, they saw their mother standing in the exact place where they had left her. Right before they entered the forest, they both stopped and looked back one additional time. Again, standing as firm as an ancient oak tree, their mother, who had shouldered the burden of raising them alone for so many years, remained a silent force and ever present influence for each of them. And then, after entering the forest, she was gone.
The first day saw their journey begin as quietly as the rising sun. Though this silence was broken by the normal chirping of the birds and wind through the trees, their footfalls and occasional deep sighs were their only infringement into its peaceful beginning. They were not sad, but they did carry their new found weight with different yet equal emotional significance. Ronialdin, who was accustomed to carrying burdens, did so with a muted numbness allowing him to compartmentalize the emotions of leaving his mother and focus on the greater task at hand. And while this was extremely beneficial for the speed with which they traveled, it was less so for their overall morale. Zyndalia, on the other hand, dealt with burdens very differently than her older brother. She tended to shed them, rather quickly, through a honed dismissal process perfected in response to her brother's perpetual, incessant, and unending lessons on life.
But today saw her unable to dismiss the longing she had to remain in the peaceful and familiar confines of her home, her room, her bed, and most importantly, her mother's arms. She had become so desperate for the familiarity of routine that she was beginning to desire one of her brother's long winded instructions on any one of the mundane life lessons of his choice. To that end, she had attempted on several occasions to gain her brother's attention and draw him away from the silent focus consuming his intent. Whether it was stepping too loudly by breaking a twig on the ground, or grunting as if she had fallen, or coughing, her attempts were unsuccessful at producing her desired result.
She always found it difficult to connect with her brother on any other level than student and teacher; yet this was the only connection she did not long to have with him. To her, he always seemed hard, like steel. He was always focused on what had to be done and never enjoyed actually doing it. She vaguely remembered when they would have fun together as children, but that changed quite rapidly after their father had been killed by the bear. Watching him walk, she considered how this must have affected him by throwing him into the male leadership role of the family. She knew her brother very well, and knew he carried a burden preventing him from being the fun older brother she now vaguely remembered. Yet, in a sense, she did need him to be the driven individual he had become. She knew herself too, and as such, relinquished the idea that she would have been able to develop her talents fully without the presence of her older brother. The truth is, she always listened to him, and always heeded his words. She just did so in her own way. As it was, had he not been as insistent on her being diligent with her training and all the benefits therein, she would not have spent half as much time developing her sensitivity to the vibrations all around her.
And it was recently, through the dedication instilled in her from her brother that those vibrations were becoming more and more vivid during the times she was not intentionally focused upon them. Though her brother was very adept at covering the source and display of any sadness he was now feeling, his vibrational state was impossible to conceal. He felt sad, the same as she.
"Oh brother of mine, do you remember the time when that dark haired older woman came up to you and bought one of our pelts at last year's festival?" she said in an attempt to draw him out of his solitary induced intent.
"What are you talking about now, Zyn?” he replied with a slight edge of annoyance.
"Do not tell me you do not remember. I do not think I have ever seen anyone turn the deep shade of red as you did," she added in a playful tone.
"What? What woman? And what does this have to do with anything we are doing right now?" her brother retorted, increasing his level of annoyance.
"I know you remember her! She bought three things from you at three different times! She clearly wanted more from you than just our furs to help her stay warm," again she said to poke more fun at her brother attempting to lighten his mood and engage him in conversation.
"There were a lot of people who bought things from us that day, Zyn. Why should I remember any one of them above the others?"
"Because you did not watch any of the others walk away! I nearly spit the water I was drinking when she caught you looking at her! You were so embarrassed you did not know what to do! Oh boy did she smile at you though!"
"I do not know what you are talking about," he stammered.
"The great hunter became the hunted! And you ran like the little prey we hunt!"
At hearing his younger sister below laughter from behind him, he very deliberately stopped, turned around, and found her gaze. Or at least tried to, but she was currently in raptured hilarity while doubling over with her hands on her knees for support. In a very flat voice he asked, "Zyn, what are you doing?"
"What do you mean, brother of mine?" she said between breaths.
"I mean this," he paused to gesture toward her and continued, "this story, this laughing, this remembering. What is its purpose if not to slow our progression toward getting back to our Drashin?"
"No purpose, Rony. I just wanted to laugh. And laughing at you is always easy," she said as she continued to struggled to regain her breath.
"That is your problem, Zyn; you are always looking to find ways to prolong what must be done. Now let us continue with as little delay as possible. The sun is beginning to set and the only suitable place to camp for the night is beyond The Hill, and we are still a good distance away."
"Oh Rony," she said, finally able to stand fully upright after recovering from her self-induced fit of laughter, "You are always so serious. Do you not ever want to have any fun?" She walked to stand right in front of him and placed her hands on her hips in
a mocking challenge.
"I do not have time for fun, Zyn. Now let this be done so we can continue and reach the other side of The Hill before night fall. The forest seems to have grown," he paused looking for the right word, "tighter since last I was in it this far."
"Tighter? Are you wearing one of the branches as a belt and pulled it too much? What do you mean, tighter?"
"I do not know," he said while looking around. "I have been in this forest hundreds of times and I do not recall it feeling like this. I do not know. It just does not feel right."
"You know what else does not feel right, Rony?" she stated as she too looked around but more slowly than he to stress her seriousness in the moment.
"What?" taking a step closer to her sister.
"This rock in my boot! It has been aching me ever since we first entered the forest," she stated as she lifted her leg up and hopped on one foot to take her book off and empty its contents.
"Zyn!" her bother exclaimed. "Why do you always do that? Why do you make light of everything I am trying to do? You have done that to me your entire life!"
As Rony stood there, expecting an answer, Zyndalia finished putting her boot back on, tied the laces and straightened her clothing. "Because, brother, life is more than just doing this and doing that. It is about talking and feeling. It is about sharing and being there for each other. And believe it or not, it is about having fun!"
"I cannot have fun! I do not have the time to have fun! It is a luxury I am not able to indulge in."
"Why?" Now Zyndalia was beginning to show the years of frustration with her brother. Perhaps it was all of the emotions released over the last couple of days, but she lacked the fear to address him in this moment.
"Can we just go? We still have much ground to cover and the two of us arguing is not going to make it go any faster," he said as he turned around and began to walk ignoring his sister's question.
Convergence (The Dragon Within Saga Book 1) Page 24