The Other of One - Book One: The Lythiann Chronicles

by Brian G. Burke

  Slowly he approached. There was yet another cry, and another bang, which then waned back into oblivion. The door was open just a fraction, and the dust lingered motionlessly within the strip of coming light. William delayed at first, thinking it might be better to just leave and pretend like he was never there. But another part of him insisted that he go in to inspect the goings on, that it was his duty.

  After some quick consideration, he eventually conceded to his conscience. So leaning into the door, he peered through the crack, while making sure to keep as quiet as possible. Strange to say, there appeared to be no evidence of life within. It was as if the screams never even came from there; but they did. Scanning around the room, this is what he saw.

  To the left, a warming hearth was burning loudly, beside which was an old armchair and an end table. In the centre of the room, a high counter was covered in books, paraphernalia, bubbling jars, test tubes and some candles. Redmun’s goggles were there too, strewn in amongst some scattered bits. It was all very cluttered, that chamber, and it appeared quite difficult to move about in, with the amount of books and stacks of parchments that were encumbering it. Were it not for the clutter, he perhaps might’ve been able to see the fine Persian-style rug that was spread out on the floor. Then, under the window at the head of the room, was a royal-looking pedestal desk. To its left, a big corkboard, with all kinds of outlandish symbols and texts pinned to it. Indeed this place had the look of a wizard’s den. Slightly to the right of that board was a large, ancient-looking book upon a lectern, with two candles kindling on either side. The tome appeared to have been opened to a certain page, and William could just about read it. Upon the page he saw a circular graph, with the months of the year encompassing it. Labelled depictions of mythical beasts were allocated to each. Raising gently onto his tippitoes, upon those muttering floorboards, William tried examining the graph further. Beside January he saw a rather ugly Sphinx creature. Next to February there was a beautiful Siren. Representing March was a Man-Wolf and, beside April, there was a—

  Suddenly, as if somehow provoked by William’s movements to further scrutinize the book, the door swung open, and he was pulled into the room.

  “What were you doing, boy? Snooping? Eavesdropping? What?!” Redmun demanded angrily, shaking William like a rabbit out of a trap.

  Draped around his eyes was a strip of frayed, black cloth, beneath which were two patches of gauze, which seemed to be soaked in recent tears. William’s suspicions of those phantom wailings had been laid to rest.

  “I heard someone shouting,” William answered sharply, pulling himself from Redmun’s grip and retreating to a safe distance.

  Furiously, the man strode towards that ancient book and slammed it shut. Meanwhile, William was baffled and outright defensive as to why he was being throttled just for wanting to help. In then considering Redmun’s unusual behaviour, it soon became clear. The man was leaning against the lectern, swaying in small circles in an effort to keep his balance. He was drunk. And now that William was inside the room, he noticed that it was a total mess of empty bottles and goblets. But even with all that, the man wasn’t so intoxicated that he couldn’t talk. In fact, he was as lucid as ever, just more irritable. An immunity derived from years of dependency, no doubt.

  Staggering backwards, Redmun collapsed into his armchair beside the roaring hearth.

  Cautiously approaching him, William asked, “Are...are you okay?”

  Redmun, however, just sat there, burbling tongues to himself. Closer William approached.

  Just then, Redmun blurted out, “If it weren’t for I, these lands would be safe! Safe!”

  “If it weren’t for you? What are you on about?” William asked, quite sharply again.

  I think his time spent with Redmun had, in some ways, managed to rub off on him. Because there once was a time when he wouldn’t so much as dare addressing the man in such a direct tone.

  Pulling himself to his feet again, tentative from intoxication, Redmun swayed back across the room.

  “It’s all my fault!” he yelled, knocking a pile of books off the counter as he went.

  William stepped quietly back, gripping his poker without even realising.

  “Maybe the time has come for me to...to explain?” Redmun grinned mockingly, slouching over the counter.

  He was heavily intoxicated, to an almost unstable state.

  Making for the door, William suggested, “Listen, maybe I should leave. Let you sleep it off.”

  “Ominix...door!” Redmun ordered.

  With that, the bat flapped from the rafters and pushed the door to with his claws before fluttering back into hiding again.

  “Sit!” Redmun insisted, observing the boy carefully with drunken ears.

  His face blushing with frustration, William settled upon a stool. He rested the poker next to it, should he need it again in a hurry. He found that whole situation to be dreadfully uncomfortable. Even so, he was there now, so there was nothing he could really do about it but sit it out.

  “I am cursed, boy!” Redmun said, his head swaying to and fro. “Upon me is the bane of a vicious curse, and I fear I will never be rid of it!”

  “Cursed?” asked William, thinking he was overreacting about something.

  “Yes...cursed!” he shouted, downing a goblet in one go, then flinging it carelessly into the fireplace. “What’s the matter? Are you deaf?!”

  On that remark, the drunkard smirked, while prodding his gauze, as if to suggest some sort of hidden irony which William didn’t find quite so amusing, just awkward.

  “Now, let me tell you a tale, boy.”

  Sliding a bottle off the table, Redmun carried it to his armchair where he sat down, and being a little more earnest about his words, he asked, “Do you know what I am?”

  Unsure of what he was actually asking, William just shrugged his shoulders.

  “I am, what’s known as, an Erethaoí Evolver...or a Warlock—as it is more commonly known to the more distant people of the world. And the Erethaoí are beings who, over the course of time, have the ability to skip generations of evolution until they have reached a more...how should we say...advanced, more intellectual, and an altogether more powerful state of being. A wondrous gift to receive. Full of possibilities!”

  Before proceeding with his story, the man indulged in a long swig. The liquor dribbled down his chin and went all over his vest. Setting the bottle down on the end table, he then wiped his mouth and continued.

  “An Erethaoí is, ultimately, one who practices magic; the arts of spell-casting and illusion. One whose skills develops through age. This is the life which I’ve always pursued, ever since my early days. I always knew that I was to become one someday, ever since the day I came into this world; as sure as you know you are a growing man. I felt it in my bones, boy! I knew I was of that breed. For I was told so by the prophet. That bloody prophet!”

  Once again his face melded to unadulterated rage, at which William stirred readily. The man refrained from unleashing his temper and, with a calming breath, he found composure again, though maintaining a level of unpredictability.

  “The only thing is, I’ve no knowledge of when this transformation will actually take place,” he uttered, rubbing his palms out of frustration. “You see, a long time ago, when my vision was at its best, it became a mission of mine to find out when I was to evolve into the master Erethaoí which I’d so long sought to be. Scrolls had told me of a being far away in the east; one who had the gift of foresight, and who possessed more knowledge of this world than most others. Yet this being was deemed treacherous...therefore, could not be entirely trusted. But I was young and naïve, so both curiosity and foolishness came over me.”

  Grabbing his precious bottle again, he leaned forward.

  “I was too impatient to wait for this new power to be bestowed upon me. So I took it upon myself to seek out this prophet...Vahna Webble! With the appearance of two conflicting life forms—a moral woman and a conniving beast�
��this creature would be the one who’d help me find my way to fruition. Nevertheless, although its human form would see me on the right path, the beast would otherwise muddle the truth to confuse me. But the chance had to be taken.

  “I admit now that it was careless of me to go, as I had already been warned about this mystic. Warned by folk about how they would try to deceive without guilt! I chose not to listen, for I was still aware that the creature also told some truth...and valuable truth at that! I heard tales of people visiting Vahna, and then living out lives of magnificent fortune. But then there were the tales which did not fare so well.

  “And so, I began to travel through the perils of this land, for many days and for many nights, until, after the twentieth day, I finally found them. They resided in an old church ruins, skulking in the shadows for nobody to see. I asked them when it would be my time to evolve. Yet, they spoke to me in riddles, with no elaboration. I was not prepared for this. They said, ‘Once the twins fall...your time will come.’ After which they decided to tell me of the happenings of my past. Matters which were irrelevant to that which I had asked. Yet they proceeded to impart bizarre details of my history. Histories which I myself was never aware of, nor did I wish for them to be true.

  “‘You have already lived out the course of two lives, Redmun. You are now in your third and final course,’ they told me, and they uttered in the most wicked of voices.

  “‘In the first you brought a terrible curse upon the land. In the second you lived for great purpose. Whereas, in the third, you live for redemption. The purpose of this final incarnation, as the magician you are now, is to give aid to any who require it, and attempt to redeem yourself for the hurt that you have once caused. It is a curse which you must honour,’ they told me.

  “These tidings fell upon me like a hail of poisoned arrows! The fact that I’d summoned some unknown curse to innocent lands was not the news I wanted to hear. Yet there was so much wickedness in existence that I was compelled to believe it!

  “‘Soon you will aid the right person, and it will be by the course of this path that you will be carried to your destiny of evolution, and the curse will no longer be yours to bear. Through this evolution you will become more powerful...you will become the Erethaoí! And it will then be up to you, if you wish to utilize this new power for what is good or what is evil,’ they said, with that horrid laughter. Oh...that laughter! How it burned into my very soul!

  “Not a day went by that this tale did not haunt me. The vision was so vague; leaving it up to the conjurations of my idle mind to shed some light upon what it could be, striving to figure out what wrong I’d caused in that first life of mine. I was told nothing of the second embodiment...nor do I care to know. For the burden of two was enough for me to carry! However, maybe over time, when the moment is right for me to learn of it, I will. Alas, the very notions terrifies me.

  “Over the years I tried to study and research my past. I came to many theories and connections, but each was as devastating as the next. I had come to one particular conclusion which I hoped not to be true.

  “Then, one night in a dream, Vahna somehow returned to me and said, ‘It was not you who was evil in that initial existence. It was a brother who betrayed you. And only for your innocence do you get this second chance to make things right, for the wickedest of people are never so fortunate!’

  “They then departed my dream, and finally I knew who I once was. Latent visions rekindled from my past after what they’d told me. Visions of a brother, a woman...and of a child.”

  Redmun poured himself another goblet and downed it all before proceeding.

  “I was once named Belenathus, boy. Brother to the magician Belenathor,” said he, and with that, William gazed at him with an eye which spoke of sheer incredulity. “It is because of me that this creature roams the lands and takes the lives of those who deserve to live. It is by fault of my ignorance that so much blood has been spilt over the years. Many great heroes have fallen by my carelessness, and now it is up to me, my curse, to try and remedy that which I’ve done.”

  Drawing himself from his bewilderment, William said, “But it was Belenathor’s fault...not yours!”

  “I refuse to shift the blame, boy,” said the man, hopelessly downing his gaze. “Had I once been stronger, I would have denied his will.”

  “But, Redmun, you were a completely different person!” William protested. “A reincarnation! How can you take the blame for what Belenathus did? It’s not as if you, Redmun, had any power over it! It was him...just him.”

  “I appreciate what you are trying to do, lad. But our ways differ greatly from yours. And now that I am aware of me being partially the cause of this, I cannot let it go.”

  Resting back into his seat, William let the man proceed with his story. But in seeing Redmun this way, he could not help feeling pity for him. He appeared fragile; believing so blindly that he was the cause of so many innocent deaths.

  “But still, I found hope,” Redmun said then. “Legend has it that Belenathus was father to the great warrior, Mysun Margyle. I have read all about the rebirth of this paladin and how he would someday return in the form of a boy. A boy who could be distinguished by the symbol of the Margyle’s lost diamond shield!”

  “The symbol of his...shield?” William asked, wondering what it meant.

  “Yes, it was his first and only shield. When he was a boy, Mysun made it himself, with the help of a blacksmith he knew. And on it, he engraved a symbol. Nobody really knew what it was. Not even him, according to some. They just took it as it was, a child’s drawing of him and his shield. But it was later discovered to be a code. A puzzle, waiting to be solved.”

  Taking a leather-bound, dog-eared tome from beneath the end table, Redmun leafed through it until he came to the right page. This is the symbol that it showed:

  “Returning to my studies, I uncovered some ancient writings long since forgotten. ‘Twas said, by the cryptologist’s theorem, that if any emblem comes accompanied by black dots, such as the two we see here, it means two things. One: that the insignia itself hides a code...usually a name or a title. And two: that sections of it will need to be separated in order for it to be reassembled in its secret form. In our case, we have two dots. One on top, one on the bottom. Therefore, this means that two portions of the emblem will need to be detached, in two moves only. Fortunately for us, because the whole insignia is already split into two individual pieces—the dots notwithstanding—the difficult part has already been done for us, in that all we need to do now is split the top and bottom portions, using one move for each.”

  He then waved his hand over the page to show William what he meant, when the two markings magically separated lengthways. The diamond at the bottom was thus carved in half, making two sideways V’s. The X on top divorced completely in two, resulting in the very same. Now there were four V’s on their sides, each mirroring the ones opposite.

  “Next, I’ll ask you to notice the two sets of diagonal notches which are scratched into the upper leg of the lower left V, and the lower leg of the bottom right. Those suggest that both those very portions need to be inverted accordingly.”

  Passing his hand over the image a second time, the shapes moved as the Erethaoí had said.

  Gesturing at the tiny lips on the lower leg of the top left V, and the one on the upper leg of the bottom right, he went on. “This thus leaves us with four independent V’s. All that’s left now is for us to adjoin the ones above and below, using these notches.”

  Again, employing his sorcerer’s wave, both segments connected, thereby moulding two letters...

  “Lastly, we place the right letter on top, and the left on the bottom, so we can read them as the theorem had intended. And, now, if you can decipher this symbol for yourself, you’ll notice that it shows two letters. The letters W and M. Your very own initials, boy! It’s all written right here in these pages if you do not believe me.”

  William was indeed taken aback when he saw t
his. He was actually being shown some form of written proof. Naturally, it made everything all the more intimidating for him, reminding him of what he had to do; of this treacherous journey which had evidentially been appointed to him and him alone.

  “And that’s not even the most amazing part,” the man said fervidly, scooching in. “Do you see that small hook that looks like a hand, protruding from the left corner of the W? Well, this means that the letter can be inverted again, to reveal yet another relevant truth.”

  For the last time, he swiped his palm across that weathered page, so that the letter flipped over on itself, revealing an M.

  “Now you understand?” he asked excitedly. “You too have lived another life. The life of Mysun Margyle! You see, this proves it. It is you I seek.”

  By now, poor William was silently battling, within himself, a skirmish of mixed beliefs and draining emotion. Leaving the book aside, Redmun stood before the heat of the fire, where he lingered for a time. Eventually he uttered words, so tenderly, that you would hardly believe it was him saying them.

  “In another time, lad...I was once of Mysun’s very blood. His kin. I can still hardly believe it. Such staggering notions, yet trivial compared to all that I must yet tell you.”

  Nothing of what he was hearing seemed in any way impossible to William. There was no reason for it to be otherwise. And yet so much was happening that hour that he felt like his head was going to pop, and the idea of hearing any more was only crippling his already jaded wit all the more.

  Getting up, and almost to the point of speechlessness, he answered wearily, “Listen, Redmun, I understand. But all o’ this is a bit too much for me right n—”

  Suddenly, the man turned to him with an abrupt, drunken rage, and barked, “I know it’s a lot to take in, boy! But you must learn of it whether you wish to or not! It is too important to be brushed aside like some meagre irrelevancy. I wish to teach you of your life. Your history. Your past. Do you understand? And you must recognise your past to conquer any inhibitions, and thus triumph in your future. If you do not do this, then your ties with this cause will be fruitless, indifferent, and all that we cherish will be at an end. Worlds will crumble, and any life that was ever worth a damn will be lost. Filth will crawl from the abyss until all has been consumed by its malice.”