“This last part I will never forget...for it would be the last time I would ever see anything again. Past Andin’s Shield I roamed, before making for the Barren City; almost with a feeling of ecstasy, of accomplishment. I was sure that I had completed my mission without flaw.
“The dilapidated walls of the Barren City were about me on all sides, and I had come to the old town square of the ruined metropolis. I was surrounded by rubble and decay, and little did I know that it was the hideout of Drevol’s most fearsome ally, one whom I had indeed heard about, yet took no heed of, for reasons unknown to myself, even now. Looking back, I suppose I had to take the chance. This dim place, of deathly bricks and mortar, was home to the plague bringer, the keeper of the damned. It was the residence of Sidell du Pòrveth, Drevol’s very own custodian. You may well have thought that Valstarius was Drevol’s closest ally, but he is merely a puppet; a simpleton that Drevol employs for idiotic tasks. A sycophantic dope. One who wishes to please Drevol and aid him in hope that he would someday share lordship. That day will never come, yet still he persists.
“Sidell, however, is truly loyal to what is evil; expecting nothing in return for her allegiance. Protecting her master from the unseen good of the world, she is a faceless immortal with no features but for her rancid, bloodied eyes. She is suited in armour of vapour and shadow, whilst taking settle upon a beast only remembered from the darker ages; the Behemoth of Gùran. A catlike creature, winged, which stands at the height of two men and walks six long. Two fierce horns jut from its skull, weighing its head to the very dirt as muscles ripple through its grey flesh and flames sprout from its heaving nostrils. Being a descendant of the deep, its fur ever trickles with a coat of seawater, creating that horrid, dripping sound which would turn one’s skin to the tint of snow. This creature is evil most horrid and, only together, do they possess a terrible power. They can govern the souls of those who were doomed to walk the earth after death, the spirits of pillagers, maniacs, and murderers, while also wielding the ability to summon terrible plagues and curses which she could set upon the guiltless at will. Yes, this witch was an enemy to these lands for time out of mind.
“I ran as fast as I could through those empty streets, casting spell after spell at she who pursued from the dark. Yet my pouch was soon empty, and my magic was gone. I then began to slow in my stride, when a sudden feeling of dread came upon me. It was not the fear of her chasing me that did it...it was something else...something inside me. Suddenly I got the overpowering sensation that something was very wrong. Like I was changing. This brought me to a total halt, and I could hear her approaching slowly from behind. I will never forget her black laughter; that haunting chuckle. My eyes felt like they were burning. I dropped to my knees and covered my face.”
As he spoke, some logs collapsed within the hearth, setting free a sparking blaze.
“I could feel the heat from my face scalding my hands. The pain was excruciating. I yelled at her, and threatened her, and even begged her to stop. Yet soon I could see nothing...and I was left in the dark, with no defence.”
Redmun walked back to the fireplace, where he placed his hands upon the mantelpiece, and the flames soothed his icy shiver. Just then Merkel and Ostly entered the room to curl up snugly before the hearth.
“She then came in for a second attack,” Redmun continued. “Blow after blow she hit me, like a mangy, old dog. As this was happening, I could feel the breath of the behemoth upon my flesh and the warm trickling of blood flowing down my face. She left me to my death in that place and, back she went, to whence she first slithered from.
“I could not see anything; only hear my breaths, of which I was sure were my last. I thought I’d see the dreaded skull of death in my dreams. A shrouded, cackling skull who grins upon the souls he’s about to take. But I did not...and I was not sure how I felt about that.
“Hours went by like days, and that was when Merkel found me. A new friend.”
At the mention of his name, the fox glanced up, and Redmun crouched to scratch his nape.
“He muzzled my cheek and licked my wounds. Then he urged me to my feet and led me from that place. He brought me by way of some unfamiliar route through the land. Some manner of secret shortcut that only the woodland animals knew of. A way with little dangers which can only be shared with others under the strict approval of the king elk, Mathus Natha, who is adamant about keeping his pass a secret, and his race safe from outside dangers. And who could blame him? Luckily, I was permitted safe passage that day. Yet the journey felt like it went on forever, what with my legs being buckled from the fight and my vision stolen from me by the black arts of that witch. In the heart of our travel, Ostly also came and introduced himself. And, together, they brought me here, to my new home. And here I have dwelt ever since.”
Hobbling backwards a few steps, Redmun bumped into the counter. Whether it was the latent effects of the alcohol or not, William could not say, but he had a look of sadness about him. The burdensome sorrows of nostalgia, no doubt. He began feeling about the worktop, knocking over tubes and jars in the process, in the hunt for more drink. Any dry bottles he found, he just dropped them onto the floor with a grunt. All the while, William watched curiously, with a constricting sense of sorrow in his belly. Redmun continued to scavenge until he found a bottle with a drop left in it. He then wobbled over to his desk, where he fell into his chair with a desolate sigh.
“Leave me be now, lad,” he mumbled. “Leave me be.”
William took his leave. He’d learnt enough that night for him to dwell on.
Just as he was about to close the door behind him, Redmun said, “Boy...” and William glanced back.
Hunched over the table with his back to him, the man said softly, “I did not mean to criticize whatever plans you may have had for your future back home. However, you’re more than you think you are, lad. Believe me! And how can anyone expect to prove their true worth by building onto somebody else’s dreams?”
Pouring himself another goblet, he then rested his weary eyes in his hand. After which, William closed the door behind him, and left him to his thoughts.
That night, young William turned in with nothing on his mind other than what he’d learnt in Redmun’s study. For a time he lay there in the darkness, gazing into the churning shadows upon the ceiling; weighing up, speculating, and fearing details of his past, his present...and his possible future. Eventually, the load of all that burden drew his eyelids to a close. Heedless of the sheer gravity of all that had been brought upon him that night, William’s dreams were at first really pleasant. Brimming with that of Mozart and Vivaldi as he soared over magical green pastures as free as an eagle. Then, as the night gradually crept forth, he came to endure a deep, dreamless slumber, carefree and safe, before awakening to yet another arduous day in Làn Chùrdal.
- Chapter Fourteen -
Insight to the Wrythus
Sunshine had once again returned to the glade, but still the days were chill. William’s only sensation of comfort, however trivial, came from the cloudless blue skies overhead, and the lively songs of the golden finches gathering for their nests.
Training continued, and the time had come for William to study the mindfulness of breathing, and how calmness can often prevail in stressful situations. It was an art of meditation where William would sit cross-legged, straight of back, while focusing all of his attention upon the fine point of breathing. Twice daily he practiced this, both in the morning, and again in the afternoon, for forty minutes at a time. He had nothing other than, what he now considered to be the tranquil ambience of the jungle, to accompany him.
It proved quite testing to begin with, trying to focus on his breath and such, especially with all of those worries buzzing around in his head. Yet he soon managed to become one with it, and grew really quite efficient at it thereafter. Also, as time plodded on, he did find himself attaining some manner of inner serenity. Meditation’s basic principles helped him to keep focused on other aspects of
his life too; granted, it’d take years for him to master it properly. But he kept at it.
To test his skills in this area, Redmun blindfolded him and had Ominix escort him out to the deepest part of the jungle, where there were no trails of any kind for miles. Removing his blindfold for him, Ominix fluttered back into the trees, leaving William to fend for himself and find his way home, alone, without food and without water. He spent days out there, in the loneliness of the jungle. And yet, that’s what he’d been trained for. Staying calm, William made all the right decisions. He first toiled through that mangled scrub until he discovered a higher viewpoint near the lip of a bluff. From there, he surveyed the jungle for indications of a river or stream. Spying a depression in the jungle’s east, he upped and trudged towards it. The closer he got to it, the harder it was to keep track of his whereabouts from deep within the forest boughs. Nevertheless, he stuck with it, remained calm, and kept his direction well enough to happen across a small, trickling brook, which eventually guided him back to the banks of that old muddy river. This then guided him back to the familiar grounds of his jogging route and, ultimately, the cabin thereafter.
During his time alone out there, William lived on berries and water, where he could find it. He slept where he could; in shaded areas, preferably away from the forest floor itself, for fear of toxic insects and raids of fire ants. Three days was how long it took him to get back to the glade, and our William appeared just as healthy as when he had first set out, save for some minor cuts and bruises. Throughout that time, his study of meditation was indeed a lesson more valuable than even gold itself; teaching him to ignore, and disempower, all of his intrusive thoughts and anxieties. However, some select few were slightly more taxing to discount than others.
William also had the opportunity to see more of his friends in those later days. More often than not, it was just Khrum, Icrick and the Dullahan. Wren was elsewhere. Redmun had allowed William this extra ration of time each morning before dawn as a reward for his outstanding progress. So, every morning, his friends would come out to greet him and they would laugh, and joke, and tell stories, before William went for first teachings.
While they were catching up, Redmun had Wren out to do a few errands for him. She didn’t mind, though. It was the least she could’ve done in return for the food and board which he had so graciously supplied them with. He just gave her small tasks, such as resetting the traps in the jungle and the likes. Nothing too demanding. Aside from that, she spent a good deal of her time with Jimzin (after Redmun had granted him safe passage into Làn Cùrdhal, that is). The dragon never dwelt in the jungle for too long, mind you. He simply collected Wren on occasion, and they would fly off to explore the countryside and, moreover, spend some time together.
William wasn’t without some minor disappointment when he did not see her as much as the others...though he hid it quite well. As for Icrick, Khrum, and Crosco, they too were rather sad to see Wren leaving the jungle whenever she did, because they’d gotten to know her fairly well and had accepted her, whole-heartedly, into their little circle. But she always returned and, even in spite of her absence, the others had a good chortle amongst themselves nonetheless.
By that stage, the Poppum was also out and about with them too, fully mended and well. Little Pew had a fantastic time scuttling in through the brushwood, sniffing around and investigating. He also had an especial fondness of butterflies, and giving them the chase. It was quite the environment for such a little fellow, being as inquisitive as he was. Never had he known such fun; free of danger, just flapping from tree top to tree top and scavenging a nibble where he could find it. But he did have some oddities, in certain respects, which none of them could really understand. For instance, whenever he went outside to explore, he’d often have a habit of scurrying around to all the trunks and rocks, rapping on them with his knuckles, then giving them a listen. Very peculiar behaviour, as far as the others were concerned. Day after day he’d scamper into the glade, and dash from trees to rocks, all the while knocking and listening with a careful ear. And if he ever heard something to his distaste, he would scowl, give the tree a swift kick, and hop over to the next one. Truly bizarre, I can tell you, but loveable all the same.
Within the guest cabin, Icrick had laid out a basket beside the fire, in which Pew slept each night. Khrum, Wren, and the Grogoch had all the time in the world for him, whereas The Head was somewhat repulsed by the look of him, always referring to him as a member of the rat clan or branding him a ‘squeaky little weasel.’ Pew took no notice of him, though. Actually, if the others didn’t know any better, they would’ve said that Pew was quite fond of The Head, constantly sniffing at him as Crosco lay idly upon a table or chair, sometimes even giving him an affectionate lick or running his brow adoringly along Crosco’s cheek. But I’m sure you can already guess The Head’s reaction to all of that, without me having to tell you. He was very displeased indeed. Or else he was playing a proficient role at appearing so. For there were times too when he didn’t seem all that troubled as the fleecy little critter showed his endearing affections. It was only when he got apprehended by another did Crosco start spitting, and spluttering, and giving out, as if to maintain his rigid repute. One could but wonder.
One morning, William and Icrick met up in the glade and they got to talking. Khrum and the Dullahan stayed inside and were stuffing their faces with bread and honey, but they weren’t long finishing up.
“Redmun told me more about Mysun...and about a thing called the Symphogram. He showed it to me,” William said to the Grogoch.
“Oh, the Symphogram,” Icrick gasped, with a great deal of mystery on his face.
Reading his reaction, William said, “Wait...you knew about this?! Why didn’t you tell me? According to Redmun, this thing is really important. And, to be honest, I’m inclined to agree with him, after everything he told me about it. So why didn’t you say anything about it, Icrick?”
Young William wasn’t angry at the Grogoch for not mentioning the Symphogram as such, but he was curious as to why he’d kept such a significant detail so very secret.
“Anun assured us that you would find out about it in due time,” explained the Grogoch, in a fidget. “We presumed that she’d let you know at some stage and that it wasn’t our place to tell you.”
Meanwhile, Pew came springing out of the scrub in pursuit of a brilliantly coloured butterfly. His attention was quickly diverted by the sight of his friends chatting, so he came scampering over to William, in comical bounds, and leapt into his arms.
“Hello, Pew,” said William, stroking the Poppum’s fuzzy head, drawing his eyelids back over his scalp. “Well, sorry to say, Icrick, but Anun never told me anything about it.”
“Oh, dear! Well I can see how that would be troubling for you,” replied Icrick. “But Anun is wise, William. Sounds to me like she was biding her time, waiting for the right moment. Anyhow, you found out about it eventually, didn’t you? For all we know this could very well have been how she intended it to be!”
Happening on a valid point, William asked, “How could she intend for me to find out about the Symphogram by warning me away from the very person who actually had it?”
“Presuming she even knew he had it in the first place, you mean?” Icrick pointed out to him. “Besides, she merely offered you the choice, William, remember? And, in hindsight, I think maybe we were better off in Redmun’s hands than in the clutches of that Valstarius brute! Much better off. So, when you think about it, you chose quite wisely. Your mind is sharpening.”
“Never thought about it like that,” said William distantly, feeling a bit of an eejit for getting all worked up over it. “She did tell me that my choices were important to my progress...or something along those lines. Makes sense, actually. Sorry, Icrick. Head’s a bit scattered.”
“As would mine be if I had to deal with all the things that you’ve had to,” said the Grogoch.
“Yeah, stress is all it is.” The boy nodded. “
Tiredness! God knows I could use a bit of a sleep-in one o’ these mornings. So, what do you make o’ Redmun, then? He’s been teaching me a lot.”
“He does seem decent; giving us food and board and the likes,” replied Icrick, considering the man’s cabin. “Indeed, you are learning from him, too. And yes, had it not been for him, you wouldn’t have learned of the Symphogram when you did...or gotten away from the centaur, for that matter! Yet, I shall remain vigilant. Just in case. Though I shall keep it subtle and stay courteous.”
“I’d appreciate that, Icrick, thanks,” said William with a smile, and dwelling upon an idea, he said, “I see how it must be hard for you to understand him, because you haven’t spent as much time with him as I have. And I know you’re only honouring Anun’s wishes by being cautious and that, which is fair enough as well. But, you know, for whatever reasons she did want us to steer clear of him, I think she might’ve been...well...overreacting a little.”
“I’d sincerely doubt that, William,” the Grogoch insisted. “Initially, though her guidance may seem somewhat vague, or perhaps overzealous, it does eventually lead us to the answers that we seek...in one way or another. And only then can we truly see how her counsel has aided us. Trust me! I’ve seen it happen over and over again with Anun. She has perfectly good reasons for how she approaches things, William, honestly, even though she may not always use the direct approach.”
“So, what you’re saying is, Redmun could still be a threat to us?”
“It’s hard to say. Maybe not intentionally...no. But perhaps he has yet to do something which may not exactly work to our favour. However, please do not quote me on this, as I don’t know for sure. I’m merely guessing, William...that’s all. Anun’s advice could mean many different things. As I said before, her counsel works in very strange ways.”
The Other of One - Book One: The Lythiann Chronicles Page 39