The Hands of Ruin: Book One

by Peters, Dylan Lee

  The old woman laughed. “I know you’re a hermit, child. They’ve all told me as much. Never mind them, I say. I don’t talk to many other people either. Not enough people worth talking to, if you ask me. However, here at the end, I wanted to see you, to speak to you, and to hear you.” The old woman looked deep into Ah’Rhea’s eyes. “I don’t know how much you know of me and my life, but I’ve paid some attention to yours. Forgive me, but I can’t help but see in you a kindred spirit.”

  “I have heard a great deal about you, Zul Master,” Ah’Rhea said. “I’m honored you chose to speak to me now.”

  Sigrid Sif reached out one tiny hand from under her blanket and grabbed Ah’Rhea’s. “That’s good, child. That’s good.”

  Just then, a call came from the entrance to the cave. “Is everything all right in there? I saw the flames and thought I should stop by.”

  Sigrid furrowed her brow in anger, and as if in response, Minas leapt from her perch and darted toward the man who had poked his head into the cave. The jawhar screeched loudly and chased the man away. Ah’Rhea looked back to Sigrid in shock.

  “That bastard is the nosiest damn neighbor I’ve ever had,” Sigrid grumbled. “If I’d wanted him to stop by, I’d have used his color sequence in the flames.”

  “He sounded concerned,” Ah’Rhea said.

  “I hope Minas puts her claw marks across his fat ass,” the old woman said emphatically.

  At this Ah’Rhea burst out laughing, and Sigrid smiled wide. The thought of the jawhar chasing the plump man down the path while the little old woman cheered malevolently caused Ah’Rhea to laugh harder than she had in a very long time. Sigrid was aware of the humor in the situation and was just happy to see Ah’Rhea had been entertained. The women shared a moment of mirth, and it seemed as though they could now move forward as friends, for however brief a time that might be. As the laughter died down, Sigrid sighed.

  “Now, where was I?”

  “I believe you were suggesting we were kindred spirits,” Ah’Rhea reminded the woman.

  “Ah, yes. So I was. I have things I’d like to share, child, and yours is the mind I wish to share them with. Tell me, how do you feel about using zul to see?”

  Ah’Rhea immediately thought back to her moment of weakness at the lip of the chasm, after having received Orman’s letter. It wasn’t the only time she had used zulis to look into the past—or to look into the future, for that matter. However, it wasn’t a practice she saw a great deal of value in. She had learned to do it, for the principal of knowledge, but she knew looking into the past could become a life-wasting obsession, and looking into the future often yielded imprecise visions and unnecessary fear. The future was never written; it could sometimes be predicted, but nothing was set in stone.

  “It’s a fine practice,” Ah’Rhea said, not wanting to insult Sigrid. “I’ve done it before with mixed results. I wouldn’t say I’m particularly good at it.”

  “I’ve always thought it was a bunch of nonsense,” Sigrid said. “You can’t look at a moment in the past without already knowing a good deal about it, so there’s not much value in the way of study, and as far as gazing into the future, I’m not sure I hold to the concept of fate. However, I’ve dabbled in the practice more in the last year. I think I knew things were winding down for me, and my brain got greedy. I wanted to know more than what I had earned the right to know.”

  The comment struck Ah’Rhea as quite interesting. The thought that someone could or could not have the right to information and knowledge was attractive to her. She liked that a person somehow had to earn the right to know things through work or discipline. Sigrid continued.

  “So I used zul to sate my curiosity, or as much of it as I could. I want to talk to you about some of the things I saw. I know I have no way of knowing whether they will come true, or whether I divined the visions correctly at all, but I want someone to know what I saw.”

  “Why me?” Ah’Rhea said quietly. “I’m sorry, Master Sigrid, I don’t mean to insult you in any way. As I said, I am honored you chose me to be here, but the curiosity is too much for me. Why I am the one you chose to tell these things to?”

  The old woman sighed and looked away from Ah’Rhea, giving Ah’Rhea the distinct impression that Sigrid was embarrassed.

  “I think as I share my visions with you, you might come to understand that a little further, but honestly, child…” The woman paused again as if the words were stuck in her throat. “I can’t help but see myself in you.”

  Ah’Rhea smiled and nodded, feeling a compassion for Sigrid she hadn’t anticipated. Ah’Rhea had lost both of her parents long ago and never saw them grow to such an advanced age, but in some odd way, she looked at zul master Sigrid Sif as a motherly figure.

  “You honor me,” Ah’Rhea said. “I’m sorry I interrupted. Please continue.”

  Sigrid turned back to Ah’Rhea, and it seemed as though the old woman’s embarrassment had been fleeting. She widened her eyes in an almost-childlike fashion and then spoke quietly, as if divulging the great secrets of the universe.

  “I used zulis in its concentrated form for these visions,” Sigrid said. “So many visions of the future came to me. At first it was overwhelming and difficult to pin down exactly what I was seeing, but as I repeated the zul, day after day, the picture became clearer. I want you to listen closely, child, because I believe I saw your possible future.” At this, Sigrid strained against the mattress, trying to lift herself up into a sitting position. Ah’Rhea stood and helped, propping the old zul master up with the pillow. “The chiefs,” Sigrid began again. “In my visions, the chiefs are all gone.”

  “Did your visions foretell a great war?” Ah’Rhea asked.

  “No,” Sigrid answered. “I do not know exactly how the chiefs fell, but in all my visions, a strange thing was present, a power I do not recognize. In all my years as a zul master, I never came across it. In all my years of study and pursuit of knowledge, I never saw this thing detailed.”

  “What?” Ah’Rhea asked, leaning forward, the old master’s cryptic words enticing her. “What did you see?”

  “Butterflies,” Sigrid said. “Black as coal, thousands of them besiege the land, killing everyone they touch. It may be these butterflies that kill each of the tribe chiefs.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ah’Rhea said. “How do butterflies destroy the chiefs? What power do they hold, and where do they come from?”

  “That I do not know. I have theories, but…” At this, Sigrid seemed to become reticent and paused. Then the woman continued without explaining her theories. “The only reason I know the chiefs die is because my other visions have shown the new leaders that are chosen in the aftermath. This is the piece of my vision that has to do most directly with you, Ah’Rhea. It may come as some shock to hear, and obviously there is no way to know whether these visions will come to fruition, but after the deaths of the tribe chiefs, Ferren elects to appoint no new chiefs. Instead, it is decided that zul masters will lead.”

  Ah’Rhea leaned back and narrowed her eyes. “Are you telling me—”

  “Yes, Ah’Rhea. You will be appointed as a leader. Tiber master Ah’Rhea Eneoh. Doesn’t sound so bad off of the tongue, does it? You see, after the butterflies terrorize Ferren, it is understood zul is the true savior of the people, and the logical conclusion is that those who are most adept with zulis should lead. The tribes choose the four masters who have jawhars to fill those positions. You will take residence in Tiber Palace with your dog, Reego. Guillermo Ado and his great lizard, Sungazer, will lead Andor tribe, and Roth Norling will lead Zehnder tribe with his squirrel-like jawhar, Tassel.”

  “And you will lead Whiteclaw tribe?” Ah’Rhea asked.

  “No, child, it will be a miracle if I live to see the sun rise tomorrow. At this time, it is unseen who will lead Whiteclaw tribe.”

  At this point, Ah’Rhea stood from her chair and paced the room. Sigrid wondered whether she had upset Ah’Rhea, but in truth Ah�
��Rhea didn’t believe the visions at all. She was pacing the room because she was struggling to keep her disbelief hidden and didn’t want to insult the old master. It was not hard to see Sigrid Sif was not long for this world, and it was now apparent to Ah’Rhea that the woman’s mind was faltering in her final days.

  She will obviously need someone to care for her until the end, Ah’Rhea thought. It must have taken all her energy just to start the fire outside of her cave.

  In that moment, Ah’Rhea made the decision to listen to Sigrid’s stories and patronize the woman as much as she could. Dying was a terrible thing, and dying alone was more terrible still. She could tolerate as many days of ridiculous stories as was necessary. She wanted to be there for the old master.

  “I’ve upset you?” Sigrid asked.

  “No, no, no,” Ah’Rhea said and sat back in the antique chair, placing a hand on the old woman’s shoulder for reassurance. “You’ve just given me so much to think about. That’s all.”

  Sigrid smiled. “I haven’t even gotten to the mysterious parts.”

  “Please continue,” Ah’Rhea said and smiled, hoping Sigrid would see her grin as politeness and not the sign of amusement that it was.

  “After piecing together all those visions of the future,” Sigrid said, “I pondered the butterflies, and the thought struck me to hold them in my mind as I used zulis to see into the past instead of into the future. I was unsure of what effect doing that would have, but I hoped it would lead me to forgotten knowledge of these creatures, where they come from, or how to destroy them. I hoped for some piece of information to pass along before I die that could help. Alas, I don’t believe I discovered anything that will help, or at least if it is something that will help, I have no idea how.”

  Ah’Rhea’s mind wandered as the old woman rambled. It seemed as though she was saying a great deal of words that amounted to very little in substance. Ah’Rhea found it to be intensely annoying and wanted to shout, “Get to the point!” at the woman. Yet she reminded herself she was in the presence of a once-great zul master, a poor woman who was dying, and this woman deserved respect and dignity, even still in her diminished state. So Ah’Rhea nodded as the woman spoke, half listening enough to interject with agreement at appropriate times or a surprised look when it was necessary. It was sad to see someone obsessed with fantasy, and Ah’Rhea hoped she was not seeing an example of what her last days would be like, alone and lost in a haze of zul-induced visions. Ah’Rhea found herself thinking of him again, her Orman. She wondered whether the pain would ever go away.

  “And the Exiled One was always there, no matter how many times I looked back,” Sigrid continued.

  “Wait,” Ah’Rhea broke from her reverie. “Did you say the Exiled One?”

  “Child, have you not been listening?” Sigrid seemed hurt. “Yes, the Exiled One. That’s what I’ve been talking about. Every single time I looked into the past with the butterflies in my mind, I was shown a moment in the life of Gokul Malhotra, the Exiled One. You have heard of him, haven’t you?”

  Of course Ah’Rhea had heard of Gokul Malhotra. Every single person in Ferren had heard of him. He was the only zul master in the history of Ferren to have been exiled for practicing illegal zul. It had happened before Ah’Rhea had been born, but the quick version that everyone knew was Gokul Malhotra had been raising the dead with zulis. The tribe chiefs discovered what Malhotra was doing, and it was decided he would be banished to Earth, where, it was thought, he would never be able to get his hands on zulis again. As assurance, Malhotra had been threatened with death if he ever returned to Ferren.

  However, what had shaken Ah’Rhea when Sigrid spoke of the Exiled One was the fact that her Orman had been obsessed with him. Not always, but in the days leading up to his jump into the chasm, Orman had talked at great length about the Exiled One. It had disturbed Ah’Rhea that he had been so interested, but it wasn’t as though he was trying to replicate the man’s practices. He had just become interested in knowing all he could about Malhotra’s history. They had argued about it, Ah’Rhea telling Orman he shouldn’t wish to know so much about a man who was so plainly evil. She argued it might get Orman into trouble and it wasn’t worth his time or the risk. But Orman hadn’t listened to Ah’Rhea. It was a true obsession. Hearing Sigrid talk of the Exiled One while Ah’Rhea had been thinking back on Orman sent a chill up her spine.

  “I have heard of him,” Ah’Rhea answered. “And I was listening. I just wanted to make sure I had heard you correctly.”

  “Oh,” Sigrid said. “Well, I’m not sure it matters, honestly. I never found any evidence of a connection between the Exiled One and the butterflies. I thought it was strange that he was continually appearing in my visions, though. Possibly the zulis was showing me other examples of evil. I don’t know. I just thought I should tell someone.”

  Ah’Rhea nodded. “Of course. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  At that moment, Minas returned to the cave. She glided in and landed on the footboard of the bed. Tucking her elegant wings, she looked down on her zul master and cooed softly. Sigrid looked up into the jawhar’s eyes and smiled. The bond between them was evident, and Ah’Rhea suddenly realized that soon Minas would be alone. For the first time, the reality of her own situation struck her in the heart. She would die one day, and Reego would be left without anyone. Her chest drew tight at the thought, and she tried to push it from her mind.

  Sigrid yawned and looked at Ah’Rhea. “Would you help me to lie down, child? I feel very tired all of a sudden.”

  Ah’Rhea stood from the chair and helped to ease the old woman down onto her mattress, tucking the blanket around her. Sigrid fell asleep almost immediately, her breathing so shallow it took a moment of silent observation to notice the slight rise and fall of her chest. Minas slowly lowered herself onto the mattress with Sigrid, setting down in the nook behind the zul master’s legs. The great red bird laid her neck over Sigrid’s legs and likewise fell into slumber. Ah’Rhea watched them silently, and her heart ached with happiness, with sadness, with complete emptiness—she could not tell.

  The great questions of life bring with them emotion both weighty and confusing. Time passes, unimpeded by anything or anyone. Are we the fortunate witnesses to the majesty and immensity of its power, or are we merely forced into suffering a journey of hopeless ruin? May truth be it’s both?

  After a few minutes of watching over the old zul master and her jawhar, Ah’Rhea decided to leave Sigrid in her peaceful sleep and return to check on her later. If truly there was nothing she could do other than provide the woman with company, that service would not be of use now. Ah’Rhea left the cave and decided to take a stroll down to the lip of the chasm. As usual, she wanted to be alone. The day had been most strange, filled with moments of intrigue, happiness, peacefulness, oddity, and sad truth. Yet as the zul master walked down the cliff path, half dragging her boots through the red dust, the sadness was what stuck with her. She did not know how old Sigrid Sif was. It was possible she was close to her one-hundredth year, or maybe more. Ah’Rhea would have to review the records to know for sure, but that wasn’t really the point. Sigrid had lived a full life, by all accounts a good life. She had been a zul master, one of the few to have her own jawhar. She had been an important and respected Ferrenite for many, many years. She had lived the life Ah’Rhea wanted to live. Sigrid had lived the life Ah’Rhea was living. But she couldn’t help but wonder how Sigrid felt about it, now that she was at the end.

  Ah’Rhea was lost in these thoughts as she walked down to the chasm, the sun dipping toward the horizon. Once she reached the crag, she sat down and let her legs dangle over the edge. She stared down into the darkness and pondered it. She didn’t regard it in the physical sense but in the abstract. Ah’Rhea stared into the darkness and imagined that it had consumed her, that it had become all that was in existence for her, forevermore. Ah’Rhea stared down into the abyss, and she considered her own death, an infinitesimal grain of sand falling
through the neck of an hourglass. The zul master leaned forward, closer to the thickening depth below, pressing her hands against the lush green grass at the lip of the chasm, and then she felt something brush against her side.

  She opened her eyes and looked to her right to see the eyes of her soul staring back at her. She could see love in their depths, and fear. Reego brushed his tail against her arm, leaned forward, and licked her on the cheek. Ah’Rhea threw her arms around her jawhar’s shoulders and cried. She knew she would have to leave him someday, but it was not this day. She would not do that to him.

  What happens to you when I go? Ah’Rhea asked Reego with her mind.

  I do not know, was the answer.

  We should find them, she thought. The forgotten jawhars.

  Reego licked her face and then nuzzled his snout against her neck.

  X

  Echo stayed at Rainart’s house over the following days. After a lot of sleep, and a lot of grumbling, Rainart was back on his feet, though his health was still not where it had been. His limp was far more pronounced, his cough persisted, his daily energy levels were substandard, and he was constantly complaining that Echo wouldn’t let him have a glass of wine. The twins were thankful she had stayed and helped, but at times it seemed she was much more interested in Rainart’s help than in helping Rainart. There was a lot of talk about a new mission and someone named Jeseph Arcadia. The twins caught only fleeting moments of Echo and Rainart’s conversations. Talk on the issue stopped whenever Zigmund or Zerah entered the room.

  Zigmund hadn’t said another word about running away, and Zerah wasn’t sure whether he was biding his time or his opinion on the matter had changed. She didn’t talk to him about it, as her mind was consumed with other things. She felt as if in the span of just a few days, she had changed so much. She had gone from being a normal fourteen-year-old girl who didn’t have much luck or skill at anything to being one of the few people in the world who could…well, she didn’t even know how to qualify what she could do. Was it magic, or was magic just the only concept her mind could find to explain her current situation? The truth was Zerah had discovered something amazing about herself, and this something was going to change everything she had previously assumed about her life.