The Bearer of Secrets (Dark Legacy)

by Kyle Belote

  A wispy strain of honeyed hair unfurled, dropping between her eyes. The weight of the now-silent voice shifted, sliding down her chest to her stomach, seizing. The sound of smacking lips reached her ears and she wet her own with a darting tongue. The voice wanted to watch her suffer, to squirm; perhaps in her misery, the voice would find solace.

  Standing silent, eyes roving over her, he had yet to move. Still, cold, coarse, unyielding as stone. His burning eyes lanced her, looking past her robes, imagining her flesh beneath. She couldn’t discern if his gaze meant there were sexual vulgarities he wished to explore or the yearning to feast on her flesh.

  Both would be bad, but which is worse?

  His gaunt face with deep depressions between prominent cheekbones tightened, his eyes and the shadows around them darkening, as if trying to slip back into the animal beneath his current masquerade. Dark, slicked-back hair matched his dark eyes, both stark against his pale skin. He spat his words at her in near-visceral screeches. “Another upstart waltzing through. Why should I grant you passage?” The man’s voice coupled with a beast’s groans and grunts, primitive, a coexistence of wizardkind and beast.

  Goosebumps sent shivers down her arms and legs. “I wish you no harm,” came Julie’s soft reply.

  His head rolled back with laughter, a deep and menacing sound, similar to a dogs’ warning when a stranger trespasses. “Nice is charming…and weak! Shall I stand aside simply because you smile?”

  “No, but it’s the right thing to do.”

  His chuckle rose, a rumbling in his belly. “Politeness goes a long way, so I will let you pass.” He held up a finger, a condition. “Let me taste of your flesh, my sweet.” He smiled, and his face transformed, the monster bursting forth. “Let me devour your ripest meat!”

  Jaws agape, drool fell from his mouth. Long, spindly fangs glistened, saliva stretching like a delicate web between the tips. She shuddered, lanced again by the intensity of his eyes.

  “No. Please? Don’t.” Fear crept into her voice, her eyes going wide. An involuntary step backward. The sudden change between man and beast rivaled the speed of a humming bird’s beating wings. A quick glance over her shoulder told her what she already knew. She found no trace of her master.

  “The more you shiver, the sweeter you’ll be.” A long tongue lashed out against his teeth. “I don’t think you have a choice, do you?” the vampire taunted her, edging closer to his prey.

  “No,” she tried to sound defiant, in control.

  “That was weak. Surely you could do better? Make me believe.”

  “I said no!” she said, her voice hardening but lacked the robust and ringing command of authority.

  “Better,” he giggled, his voice high and child-like, and then dropped, “but not good enough!” He danced closer, a sinister sparkling in his eyes. A smile split across his face, stretching unrealistically at the corners of his mouth, baring more teeth, showcasing his ivories.

  “No!” Julie barked, desperation pounding through her as the beast drew closer. The rising panic sparked an ember of anger within, but not enough to overwhelm her dread.

  “Not too good, was it?” he sneered. His grin split wider, the slit of his mouth stretching up to the temples of his head. His jaw dropped awkwardly, and his mouth opened wide enough to swallow her head whole. The beast was almost upon her.

  She cowered away but for a moment. Through her fear, anger blazed. Realizing what the vampire had been doing all along: intimidate her into submission. She vowed to fight it off. Judas told her once before that magic came from the power of the mind, and she had forgotten. By cowering in submission, she closed her mind off to the ability to call her essence and craft magic. Spine straight, she stood with renewed confidence. Wand extended towards his head; she summoned up her wrath, fear, and stubbornness to live. “NO!” she screamed. A vast light poured out of her wand. The luminance so pure she turned to shield her eyes.

  The radiance faded, revealing a vanquished foe. No trace of the vampire remained. Judas stood where the creature had been, his fingers interlaced with each other, a solemn look about his face.

  “What happened?” he asked, almost in a whisper.

  “I don’t know. I was afraid, but my rage fueled my confidence. I remembered you saying the mind being the gateway to magic,” her answer meek. “Or something like that,” she added quickly and shrugged.

  “And how did you find that confidence?”

  “I thought … of you!” she said, astonished by the revelation, her eyes betraying her inner confusion.

  “What about me?” His face rippled with perplexity.

  “I thought of what you told me. If I am scared and can’t think, then I can’t act. But my life was at stake, and so I acted as my life depended on it–and it did.”

  “Good! You did well. Just remember not to give into your emotions always. Sometimes, it will help you stay alive, but other times the anger will consume you,” he praised her, a smile breaking on his face momentarily before he turned serious again. “Can you tell me the meaning of the lesson? There are several.”

  “Well, besides the power of the mind, I would have to say … courage.” She spoke evenly, assured of her answer.

  “Close.” He paced around her. A brief pang of crestfallen entered her eyes, but either Judas ignored the look or failed to see it. “This lesson taught you to stand up for yourself. Now, you understand the meaning. No one else can do it for you–and even if they could, they couldn’t as well as you. Do you understand?” his ever-soft voice inquired. He had a way of lecturing without seeming so. Julie didn’t appreciate how he managed it until now. The twinkle in his eye returned, one that she spotted many times before.

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “That is the biggest problem with society today,” he continued as if he had forgotten his internal musings were audible. “If people would just do things themselves and make a stand instead of expecting others to do it for them–” He broke off and blinked at her. “Sorry, I can get carried away sometimes.”

  “That’s alright; I don’t mind you talking. Better than listening to voices in my head,” she chuckled.

  A dark, concerned look flashed across his face before dismissing whatever thoughts he clutched. “Good,” he said. “Remember this: the Corridor is about the power and stability of the mind. It’s up to you to decide when your mind is strong enough and when you have enough will to end the escapade. Now, let’s travel a bit further and then we can rest for the evening.”

  She watched him turn on his heel, retreating down the mountainside. Julie noticed the look on his face when she mentioned voices and again he refrained from saying anything.

  What secret is he holding? What did I say that made him grow pensive and concerned? I am starting to hate this.

  Chaffed by his lack of communication and praise, but grateful she escaped an admonishment, she reluctantly followed him.

  ***

  Chapter 23 : Judas

  Night fell, soothing the humidity to a tolerable level. Huddled around the small, bright fire, Judas sat across from Julie. In the muted darkness, his back slouched against a fallen log, his knees high with feet planted firmly on the ground. He used his legs as a makeshift podium, a book laying against his legs. A bead of sweat trickled slowly down his left temple, unnoticed. Lost in his thoughts, the book lay forgotten.

  Why is the Corridor presenting her with such rigors? She is but a novice. Is it basing itself on her power or somehow latching on to mine? It shouldn’t, otherwise we would be tasked together.

  He could not deny the troubling possibility. He would watch for more signs that the passageway could not distinguish between the two of them. If it became too difficult, he would step in and stop her progress. The thought chaffed him. Interfering may do more harm than good, but if the erratic behavior continued around her, he would be left with no choice. A dilemma he had never faced before.

  Another troubled aspect was Julie’s magical control. At ti
mes, she snatched her essence with ease, and in the next few moments, it evaded her like it never existed. Granted, she lacked the luxury of growing up in a magical world and learning as a child. What she grasped came in spurts.

  She lacks the control directing her aura. I need to find a way to unlock whatever is blocking her abilities.

  He knew it couldn’t only be the Corridor, but recognized it was part of the problem. Her troubles started at the beginning when she first attempted to harness her essence. It was only explanation he considered, at least, one he was willing to admit.

  Another factor he failed to include, perhaps the fault did not lie with her, but with him. Though a master many times over, this was the first time he failed to find a connection with someone new. The blame, theoretically, lay at his feet. He thought back to Meristal and how she seemingly taught her with ease, the lesson coming to Julie almost immediately. The staggering majority of magic wielding civilization derived from the Plotus branch of magic. Her inability might stem from her focal point: her wand. If she didn’t make significant progress by the time they reached Wizard’s Pass, he would reevaluate her and see if she was an Owlen mage destined to use an orb, or a Mussari user befitting a staff.

  I don’t understand. A child should be able to go through here, has gone through here.

  Taking part in this mental bombardment to strengthen her mind was the pinnacle of their journey. He hoped the rigors would churn her mind, enhancing her abilities, and the prowess to call upon them.

  If she truly is the one in the prophecy and to have a steadfast chance against Xilor, this unfortunate place is a necessity.

  Without this abhorrent place, the Dark Lord would tear her mind apart on a mere whim, regardless of magical abilities or lack thereof. Judas still wasn’t sure he believed the whole prophecy, but he wouldn’t deny the possibility either, a reality he hated to admit.

  Sighing in frustration, he closed the book propped against his legs. He was no closer to understanding the secrets of the book, the Corridor of Cruelty, or Julie’s inability to harness her essence. He scoured the contents for years, Ages, and no closer to achieving an understanding than the day the book was pressed into his hands.

  False nightlife filled the background noise in the stretching silence between master and apprentice. The faint sounds were both irritating and a welcome relief against nothing.

  Judas tilted his head back and looked at what few stars gleamed through the dark shroud of clouds. Julie stirred uneasily in the silence. He felt her disappointment and frustration roiling off her, nearly palpable. When the need for small talk arose, Judas usually left the task to someone far more elegant than he: Meristal. He searched feebly for any subject to talk about, and when he failed to find a suitable topic, he returned to the last conversation they had.

  “Have you given any thought to what I said earlier? About standing up for yourself?” he asked, his eyes still gazing upwards at the stars. His throat constricted, and he couldn’t help the mortification of his insecurity.

  “No.”

  Well, at least, she is honest. “No? Why not?”

  “Well, I haven’t been thinking of that at all, but on what you said about society expecting things to be handed to them.”

  “Oh, and?”

  “Well, all told, I think you are right. There are some people who want things given to them. They would rather take what isn’t theirs than earn their keep like everyone else. I don’t know as much about Ermaeyth as I would like. I haven’t heard anything to make my next statement false, but if I am wrong, I am sure you will correct me. The elyves still work and do everything for themselves even after the goblins attacked them all those years ago. I mean, if anyone deserves something handed to them, wouldn’t it be them? They were innocent and yet attacked because–I don’t know why. They could have sat back and demand retribution for the past war crimes, but they didn’t, which reflects greatly on their society. I do, however, think the goblins should pay some penance.”

  “You make some good points, all worth taking into consideration, but there are those who think the opposite and people deserve hand-outs. Most of us, including historians, agree the goblins were the aggressors. Some still believe they should be given money, positions, and power, simply because they think they were acting out at the injustices we placed upon them. That is the root of the problem. They are only the way they allowed themselves to be. Tell me, should we let you be the queen of the Ralloc Domain because we exiled your ancestors so long ago?”

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes. A quick dart of her hand pulled back a loose tress of honeyed hair behind her left ear.

  “No, of course not! The crimes committed by the exiles is not my fault nor is the punishment they received was meant for me. It was just an unforeseeable side effect. I didn’t do the crime, so I shouldn’t be punished. You rectified the situation: you brought me over and tried to make things right. My ancestors, though, that is different. They deserved the punishment, for whatever reasons those may be. Why should I reap the punishment of someone else’s crime? Besides, I shouldn’t take advantage of someone else’s labor. You and Ralloc did just fine before I got here, so why would I rule? That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

  He smiled to himself, evaluating her argument built on sound logic. “And there you have one of the greatest arguments in history,” he instructed. “Traditional people who are conformist prefer the longer view of life; then you have open-minded people who prefer the short-term view and are most generous with other peoples’ time and hard-earned money. It’s hard to find a perfect balance between opposites, but to achieve such admirable results, you need both. I don’t condone people starving, and I think they should be helped to a degree; but if a man doesn’t work, then he shouldn’t be allowed to eat at another man’s table or by another man’s ingot.”

  “Why are we talking about this?” Julie pondered. In the darkness, the firelight flickered across her face, her brow nettled.

  “Well, you brought the subject up by admitting you haven’t been thinking about what I said earlier, but in a way, you have. By not thinking of yourself, you thought of others. I was curious as to how, what, and why you would think it. If I can understand those things, then I can understand you.” He paused to give her a long, measured look. “You grasp modern society ‘the pulse of the people,’ as the younger generations say,” he waved his hand for emphasis, sharing a smile with Julie. “Let me ask you a question: if you received a million ingots and told to spend it how you see fit but for the good of the people, how would you carry out such a task?”

  “I don’t know!” she sputtered. “Certainly on something they needed. I don’t know the specifics of how your school works–Divinity Enigumas–but I would build another one, closer to Ralloc. Maybe for specialized study, for those who graduate the regular school?”

  Divinity Enigumas? I don’t remember telling her about the school.

  He sifted through the short time they had spent together and found no recollection of telling her of the school. A cold suspicion settled over him. The only plausible explanation was the books he used during her Essence of Transference which only made him wonder what else managed to slip through undetected. The notion bothered him profoundly. He had not been as careful as he thought. What other subjects managed to find their way into her mind because of his carelessness?

  The warlock found his voice. “So, in other words, you would build a school for higher learning and education, where people could go to learn more in-depth on particular subjects? Sound about right?”

  She nodded.

  “How would the school make money? Remember, we aren’t giving you money to run it each year, so how would you sustain the school without funds?”

  Julie delved deeper into her musings. “I don’t know,” she said, put off by his sudden curiosity. “Probably a pay-as-you-learn deal. That’s the only thing I can think of. Why?”

  “I just learned something else about you by the way you t
hink,” he said, smiling. “You would build a school for the betterment of the domain, and for the individual who chose to go there; but you didn’t say you would force anyone to attend, and you didn’t make the service without strings attached. You gave everyone something for their use and could improve or enhance their stature for jobs and the community. Very good.”

  “Why? What difference does it make what I would do with the ingots?”

  A gleam came to his eye, one he did not hide nor would he want to. He changed his posture, sitting up straighter. Regardless of the politics in the capital, he genuinely cared about the people of the Realm. He wanted to help, inspire, make society a better place and he hoped he could arouse Julie’s interest in his personal beliefs and devotions. Though made an outcast and feared by an underprivileged community, he cared for them and hoped to inspire others by leading the way. He embodied the change he wanted to see in the world but terrified of his eventual failure. Trying everything in his power to avoid defeat, he’d give up hope long after others would lose their way. Judas hoped she distinguished his care for her wellbeing like everyone else’s. If he fostered this passion for the people who feared and rejected him, how would he feel towards her–someone who hadn’t rejected him?

  He answered her. “Some people would do the same as you and build something for everyone to use if they chose to, but there are those who would hand the money out, and let people spend their boon as they saw fit. In their defense, it wouldn’t necessarily be bad, but what long-term good would have come? What can people learn from having money just given to them? Sure, some businesses can turn more profit with extra funds, and some people could start their own business or plant more crops or sell more goods at the markets; all based on the assumption everyone would turn around and put their new-found money back into the economy. Not everyone does, so it doesn’t do any good in the distant future. It’s just a short-term, temporary thing. A quick fix, if you will.”