“Me an' Yan, see... when the fools finally managed to sink us, we were th' only ones to escape! We crashed on the shores o' Mythigrad, and says to ourselves- 'Whoe'er these blaggards be, they've already invaded the city, an' won't be watchin' out fer an attack on their ships, will they?' So we crept along quiet-like... snuck aboard one of those golden ships, killed the guards, an' took it for ourselves!”
“Just two of you?” Lauro asked incredulously.
“Well,” Berne admitted, “we happened upon some Frost Striders in the fight- they'd had something of the same idea, methinks... they 'elped us win th' ship, an' let me tell yuh, was they something!”
Yan, the first mate, had been standing quietly in the corner for some time. Now he spoke up, curiously solemn. “They could do more with Striding than anyone's ever seen, but they were barely able to control their powers.”
“The time is coming,” Traveller lamented, “When all Striders will feel this power. It is only beginning... the closer we come to the Day of Norne, the more powerful every Strider shall be... and the less predictable... the less in control. The world is preparing to tear itself apart.”
Yan looked graver than ever and fell silent. Berne cursed. “Well, whate'er it be, those Striders 'ave 'elped me more than any spirit e'er did. We captured this metal ship, see, and rammed a few more before any o' the enemy could sense what 'appened. When they did, o' course, we was dead... or so I thought. Suddenly they fled away up north, every one o' 'em, ignorin' us completely and leaving Mythigrad behind in flames!”
“Wait,” Gribly interjected, “I'm not sure I understand...”
“I do,” Lauro said. “They must have been summoned to help their master. This rogue Aura has an army at his command... and they're probably heading this way, now.”
“No indeed,” Berne argued. “They're gone as summertime... I'd the same thoughts meself not long ago, when we began roundin' up the survivors o' the attack. This ship had had so much damage, I 'ad the Frost Striders and some other Reethe fix 'er up with pieces from any sunk ship they could find. When we did, th' Cleric o' Mythigrad showed us 'ow to make our boat into what 'ee called an 'Under-Mariner'... ship that can go under th' water for a short time, to hide or surprise th' enemy. It's done with Wave Stridin' and Frost Stridin' together, but one o' the Reethe seems t' be able to do both, now... he's joint captain with me, so tuh speak...”
“Who? Who can do both? Is he here now?” Lauro asked in a stream of excitement.
“Course 'ee is, young prince,” the Captain said, chuckling. “Could we run this 'ere ship underwater right up to yer noses without 'im?” Just then, a heavy knock came at the door, and a somehow-familiar voice Lauro couldn't quite recognize called through.
“Berne? Are you in there?”
“Come in, come in!” Berne laughed, leaning even farther back in his chair. “There's some old friends I'd like yeh to meet!”
With an oily grinding, the cabin door swung open and a tall, shaven-headed nymph walked through. Lauro's mouth opened, then closed, and Gribly laughed aloud.
“I suppose we should have expected you,” Lauro said, finally managing a grin.
Karmidigan bowed low in a flourish of white robes, smiling. “Welcome aboard the Invincible, my young friends. Surprised to see me?”
“Not really,” Gribly snorted, “I wouldn't be surprised if my Pit Striding brother turned up at this point.”
“Brother?!” both nymphs gasped at once. Lauro couldn't help himself- he laughed at them.
“Looks like we've all got stories to tell,” the prince said.
~
When their various and sundry tales had all been shared, Captain Bernarl made the most startling proposition possible. “You want to get the girl back, do you? Well, I'll take you to her, then!” His voice was curiously absent of his usual accent.
“NO!” said Traveller forcefully. “He must stay here.”
“But-” Gribly began, but Berne waved him silent.
“With all due respect, My Lord Aura... I'm a pirate, as is this young hero's father. Crazy stunts like this, here... they're in our blood. You say you've lost the one young woman who can unite all our tribes, do yuh? Well then, I says, we need to get her back! If Gribly wants to come, it's his affair and not yours. Besides, I've been a'thinkin'... and I see a war comin'. Those ships that attacked Mythigrad, now... where be they? Not with this Sheolus fellow. They're getting' ready to attack! War's coming, and I don't think thirty golden ships is the limit of this blackguard's strength, do you?”
Traveller frowned, but he shook his head and said nothing.
“Well,” Berne said. “This's what we'll do. We'll give chase up these Grymclaw rivers, up n' down n' up again. There's a lot of 'em, we've found- that's how we got in. Maybe we'll catch the demon and his ship, and maybe we won't. But if we reach the open sea, there'll be the Alliance to call on for help. Every port in Vastion and the lands beyond has rogues an' brigands from the Alliance: we'll raise the alarm! Pirates and thieves'll unite for the first time in a hundred years! And here's the last thing we'll do, if Gribly comes with us...”
His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. For better or worse, Lauro realized, he had them under his spell.
“If'n he comes, we'll send word to Gram, Rogue Lord o' the South. Once he hears his long-lost son is still alive, he'll be likely to do anything for us!”
“I don't think he will,” Traveller sighed. “Perhaps you do not know him as I do... or once did.” The Captain gave the Aura a questioning look- almost sympathetic, Lauro thought- but no explanation was forthcoming. “I think,” Traveller continued, “that it is up to the prophet to choose. I have given what advice I may, but until the appointed time it is not my place to interfere with the mortal world... unless called upon by the Creator or his chosen one.”
“Gribly?” Lauro asked in the silence that followed. “Will you go?”
Nothing. No response. The prince frowned- Gribly was standing against the wall, his eyes closed and an unhappy look on his face. Had he fallen asleep so quickly? They were all still exhausted, but...
The prophet's eyes blinked open, and his face became deathly calm.
“I will go,” he said. Leaning forward off the wall, he stepped to the center of the room. “Whether for better or worse... for victory or defeat... I will go.”
“May the blessing of the Creator and the protection of His Aura go with you, then,” said Traveller wearily.
Everyone was silent as the gray Aura walked towards Gribly and placed a hand on his shoulder. His other hand gripped his gnarled staff, the tip of which touched Gribly on the heart. Traveller leaned forward until his forehead almost touched the young prophet's, then breathed out a long, slow breath on the boy.
As one, the eyes of Traveller and Gribly glowed with a golden light that flashed once and promptly disappeared.
Gribly looked up, and Lauro saw a wisdom and resolve in his eyes that had not been there before. “Thank you,” he said. “I will do my best to uphold my destiny.”
“I do not doubt it,” smiled the Aura, and, with a rueful but pleased expression picked up his staff in both hands, handing it carefully to Gribly. “I have given you all the blessing I may,” he said. “Now take this gift as well, and may it serve you as it has me: unerringly, and unfailingly. May you never stumble.”
“I... I can't thank you enough,” Gribly said, tears welling in his eyes. Lauro kept watching with a stunned silence, as did Karmidigan, Berne, and Yan.
“Go with the Creator at your side,” Traveller told him, then turned to the prince and nodded. “Come. It is time.”
Epilogue: The Path of Destiny
As the Invincible headed off upriver, sails billowing and smoke chugging in unlikely tandem, Lauro and Traveller watched it go. Dawn had passed, and the sun was out in its full, golden glory.
“You could have gone with them, you know,” Traveller said. “They offered. Why didn't you?”
Lauro smiled sadly.
“You know why already, don't you?”
“No,” Traveller said simply. Lauro shrugged.
“Fine, then. I looked into Wanderwillow's book, before the battle started... and I saw my future.”
“Ah,” Traveller breathed.
“You knew, didn't you? You all know- all the Aura, I mean. You know I'm going to fail.” Lauro's voice took on a bitter tone.
“Did the book say you were going to fail?”
“No. But it showed me what would happen... what I can't stop.” Lauro turned to look the gray Aura straight in his eyes. “It showed me who I would become, Traveller, and it said I could do nothing to stop it.”
Traveller bowed his head. “It was... foreseen. Some things were not meant to be, Lauro.”
“No, they weren't,” the prince agreed. “But you know what else it predicted? It predicted that I would be the one to save Elia, and Gribly would be the one to unite Vast.”
Traveller met his gaze again, and his eyes were shining. “What?”
“But now our roles are reversed. He's going to save her- oh yes, I know he'll do it. And he won't end like the book said I would, because he's not me.” Lauro could feel the excitement at finally being able to put into words what he had hidden since the Forest of Foretelling. “I broke the prediction, Traveller! I can seal my own fate... or I can make myself something new.”
“Prince,” warned the Aura, but Lauro didn't let him speak.
“I will prove myself to Father, Traveller. I will save Vastion- and what's more, you know how I can do it... don't you?”
Traveller sighed. “It will cost you your life, Lauro.”
“I don't care. My life means nothing against my kingdom.”
Traveller turned away, clasping his hands behind his back and gazing out over the wasteland of the Grymclaw and the golden sun beyond. Lauro said nothing to urge him... he knew an answer was forthcoming.
“The Red Aura,” Traveller said at last. “He is a maker of artifacts and weapons such as have not been used since the Eleven Aura united and cast the Legion out of the heavens. It was he who made the sacred bone dagger Sheolus now carries.”
“What about him?” Lauro asked, pulse pounding with anticipation.
“If you truly wish to take this destiny upon your shoulders, Prince... You must find him. He will forge you a weapon greater than any mortal or immortal has yet seen. With it you may banish the threat of the Legion once and for all.”
Lauro's eyes gleamed with desire and purpose. Lightning flickered across his brow from the intensity of his thoughts, forming an ethereal crown.
“Tell me what I must do.”
To Be Continued...
CAST of CHARACTERS in SONG OF THE AURA
Allfar: One of the legendary Aura. Not much is known of him, but he is commonly associated with Wind and Sky elements, in the old rites. Spectansis is his Nymphtongue name.
Alwene: Mother of Gramling and Gramlen, wife of Gram. She died in the first burning of the Gray Cathedral.
Argoz Greenwood: The Cleric of Ymeer. Also succeeds Ymorio Highfast as the Dunelord of Ymeer.
Amarand: The cleric of the Zain tribe, and master to Variand, the Zain scribe.
Aura, The: Eleven ancient spirits sung into being by the Creator when he fashioned the world. They are the guardians of the many races inhabiting Vast and the lands beyond; however, in recent days belief in their existence has wavered. They now rarely show themselves to mortals, and only three have been reported to still frequent Vast at all.
Avtar: A silverguard of Ymeer, who accompanies Gribly and Lauro on their journey to the Inkwell. Presumably killed in a Sea Demon attack.
Bernarl: A Zain ship’s captain and former pirate, once an ally of the mysterious King Gram, the Lord of Rogues. Possibly the only exception to the general lacking among the Zain of a Second Form. Commonly called “Berne” by his friends and allies. By all gathered accounts, there is more to this sailor than meets the eye.
Bonedale: A dark falconhorse, raised in the pits of Blast, currently serving the Pit Strider Gramling.
Bwether: Master of the Haedi working under Wanderwillow at the Swaying Willow inn.
Byornleo “Byorne” Hallifar: One of the oldest and deadliest rangers, and a friend to Old Murie. He frequented the fight pits of Ymeer, where he was known as “Longstrider.” His fighting prowess put him at the top of the pack, and in a perfect position to spy for Vastion. He was killed by Gramling, the Pit Strider.
Calloway: Also known as “Cal.” He is a young boy of the Grymclaw’s South Village, who gave vital aid to Gribly and Elia in their time of need.
Cramner: A young boy of South Village, and friend of Calloway.
Creator, The: The God of all worlds, Whom is responsible for the world of Sceptre and everything in it: Vast, Realm, Rune, Nation, and all the lands beyond.
Crutus: A bouncer at the Old Pickpocket’s wine-shop, who also deals in the slave trade. He is the brother of Shele, a fight pit contestant.
Donovan: An Elder of South Village.
Elia: A Sea Nymph female of the Treele Tribe. She is an incredibly powerful Wave Strider; so much so that it is possible she has transcended Wave Striding and begun to master Sea Striding.
Golden One, The: Master of Pit Striders. Possibly an escaped member of the Legion.
Gram: Self-styled Pirate King of South Vast. Also known as the Lord of Rogues. He is the founder of the Alliance, a loosely-bound brotherhood of miscreants spread throughout Vast.
Gramling: A Pit Strider, and brother to Gribly. His master, the mysterious Golden One, has tasked him with either converting or killing the young thief.
Gribly: A street thief formerly of Ymeer. He has manifested extraordinary abilities in Sand Striding and Stone Striding, and is rumored to be the Prophet of the Aura. He is revealed to have originally been named Gramlen by his mother, Alwene, and his father, Gram.
Karmidigan: A prodigiously powerful Reethe Frost Strider
Kell: A silverguard of Ymeer, who accompanies Gribly and Lauro on their journey to the Inkwell. Presumably killed in a Sea Demon attack.
Larion Vale: King of Vastion, the last surviving kingdom in Vast.
Lauro Vale: Prince of Vastion, and Gribly’s uneasy friend. He is seemingly on the run from his own father.
Leafly: A Haedus in Wanderwillow’s entourage at the Swaying Willow inn.
Legion, The: Nine Archdemons bound in the underworld of Kerbus at the beginning of time. They were once Aura, but became corrupted with pride in their own power. They wished to rule the world, and were banished for it.
Lithric: The nymph cleric of Mythigrad.
M’tant, The: A mysterious tribe of Wood Nymphs residing in the Blackwood, Northeast of the Grymclaw.
Margry: A female Elder of South Village.
Marmat: A silverguard of Ymeer, who accompanies Gribly and Lauro on their journey to the Inkwell. Presumably killed in a Sea Demon attack.
Murie: A Vastic Ranger stationed in Ymeer. Called “Old Murie” by most of the inhabitants, she disguised herself as a gypsy to blend in, allowing her to care for and protect Gribly as he grew older and learned to use his gift.
Old Pickpocket, The: A former thief and black market trader specializing in strong drink. He is crippled from the waist down.
Patnel: A Reethe nymph in charge of guarding Mythigrad’s armory. Secretly a Frost Strider.
Ranathin: Also known as “Ran.” Grandson of Elder Donovan, and friend to Calloway and Cramner.
Reethe, The: The northernmost of the three Sea Nymph tribes. Their Second Form resembles the icy snow they inhabit. It is stronger than the Second Form of the Treele, and most often used in combat or in the harsh winter storms that often lash the Inkwell.
Roko Smallword: Head Cook in Vastion’s capital city.
Shele: A mysterious woman living in the underbelly of Ymeer. Her brother Crutus pressured her to put her martial skills to use in the fight pits, which she reluctantly agreed to. Her recent losses have put
the freedom of her only daughter at risk. She goes by the alias “Shadow.”
Sheolus: The cursed name of the Golden One.
Steamclaw: A pit draik of Blast. Called Nebulekef in the Nymphtongue.
Traveller: One of the many names taken by the Gray Aura. Commonly called Viator among the Sea Nymphs of the Inkwell.
Treele, The: The easternmost of the three Sea Nymph tribes. Their Second Form is watery and translucent, much like the waves they commonly inhabit.
Grym Prophet (Song of the Aura, Book Three) Page 17