Nidic Waq’s smile broadened, lending Darr a small bit of courage. “It’s enough for now that you simply begin. The rest, as I said before, you’ll learn along the way.” The white robes closed tight about Nidic Waq’s frame as he rose. “As for your fear, remember this--we feel fear when we’re alone, when there is no one to help us. You are a Summoner, and as such, you’re never alone because you will always have a foot in the Currents. The spirits will aid you, if you listen carefully to them. The spirits will never abandon you.”
The prophet brushed past Darr and patted him lightly on the shoulder. With long strides, he went to the door. He reached down for the handle but stopped as if catching himself in mid-thought. “Remember the lesson of the firehound,” he said, his tone dark. “The Currents are severly disrupted as the Light of the Sephirs are draining away. Elementals like the firehound are a spontaneous effect of the failing Sephirs. They can break free anywhere, but they will be drawn to Spirit Summoners when we’re in the Currents. Always be wary of the bindings of the elements around you.”
The prophet nodded at Darr before he straightened his robes one final time. His wide-featured face took on a hard cast. “I know all of this is new and confusing, but you will not be alone in this even though I must leave you.”
The whole world fell out from underneath Darr. “But I thought...”
“I know. You thought I would be going with you, but I’ve other matters I must attend to. The Devoid intends to keep me from securing the Sephirs, and so it is moving its Soul Seekers strategically. But it doesn’t expect there to be someone like you.” Despite Darr’s shock, Nidic Waq showed no sympathy. “Don’t worry, Summoner, for I would never send you away alone and unguided. Head first to Stern and the Sephir of Water. I have arranged for someone to guide you. Leave at first light--you will be found on your way.”
The prophet nodded, turned immediately back towards the door, and opened it to the night.
Darr charged forward, a fury of confusion and objection running through his head. “I can’t leave right now. My father isn’t well, and my brother and sister...”
“Leave at first light. That’s all the time you can spare,” Nidic Waq said before stepping out of the light of the oil lamps and into the darkness of the road beyond.
The prophet didn’t look back.
Chapter Four
“Not all of the Ancients were content with nurturing the land and her people. Some believed the only way to sustain, was to control and conquer. Such was the case of the elder named Symdus.
Symdus hoped to conquer and control death, and at first, his intentions were noble. He was a respected elder, his knowledge of science was profound, and his ability to navigate the Currents, was both accomplished and unique. A rare gift possessed by only a few of the Ancients allowed Symdus to hide himself within the Currents.”
~From A Current History of Ictar, as told by Nidic Waq
In the hours before dawn, Darr sat before the hearth in his house. The fire danced as he contemplated his decision to go on Nidic Waq’s quest to secure the Sephirs. Sleep was impossible in light of all he’d learned, so after a few hours of lying in bed, he went to the sitting room to think. He would leave after dawn, after he told his father.
After Nidic Waq left him staring wide-eyed into the night, he’d been frozen by indecision. Fear alone didn’t paralyze him. The shear uncertainty in determining whether Nidic Waq spoke the truth froze him in place. Deep down, Darr believed the white-robed stranger about the Soul Seekers and their creator, but on the surface, the beliefs the prophet expressed concerning the Light and the Sephirs were foreign, and, truthfully, a little hard to swallow. Everything Darr had ever heard concerning the Currents said the spirits were the ones connecting all life on Ictar. Similarly, the Sephirs connected the Four Elements.
The Light, an unseen force that could be taken away by creatures like the Soul Seekers, both frightened and astonished him.
Perhaps it was so hard to believe because of his fear, but Darr wouldn’t allow himself to be bound by fear and ignorance. He would forge ahead down the path Nidic Waq laid out for him, whether he knew its destination or not. The path would take him on the adventure he’d always wanted to experience, and because doing so would save Ictar.
How would his father react? The old man could barely comprehend his life as a Spirit Summoner, let alone an innate ability to do magic. If he told his father Nidic Waq had chosen him to save the Sephirs from certain destruction, his father would, without a doubt, think he’d lost his mind.
Darr sighed and looked wearily out the front window. The skies were turning a faint leaden gray with the promise of morning. His insecurities melted away, replaced instead with the excitement of what he knew he’d be able to accomplish. This is my chance to see the world, he thought with eagerness and sadness alike.
The Summoner rose from the couch, unable to contain himself, and walked down the hallway to his bedroom. He stripped off his ash-dusted clothes from the day before, washed, then dressed. He took in the familiar sounds and smells of his room, not knowing when he would be there again. It felt odd to him to be leaving, but it also felt right, despite the circumstances.
The Summoner finished off his outfit with a leather belt, and as an afterthought, took out his long hunting knife. It would be his only weapon. He secured it to his belt. Everything else he needed was kept at his father’s store. Darr took one last glance around his room, sighed deeply, and moved into the hall, taking slow footsteps to the door at its end where his father slept.
Carefully, he reached down and turned the handle, opened the door, and slipped inside. He walked on cat-paws to the bedside. His father slept soundly, his bruised face showing no trace of discomfort. Darr smiled to himself. Even in sleep his father defied everything and anything he possibly could. The Summoner sat down on the bed and waited for his presence to wake the old man.
“Darr?” his father whispered, his eyes flickering open. “Is something the matter?”
Darr shook his head, letting the words funnel through his mind before he spoke. “No, father, nothing’s wrong. I came to check on you before I left.”
His father chuckled softly. “Out to start work on the store early, huh? You got my work ethic, boy, that’s for sure.”
Darr smiled and looked down, then back up into his father’s eyes. “No, not to the store, father. I’m leaving Tyfor for a while.”
If the old man was shocked, he didn’t show it. He simply laid there, his head resting on the pillow. “What brought this on?” he asked in a weak voice.
Darr cleared his throat, preparing the lie. “Those soldiers who came here yesterday morning returned last night. They heard about what happened with the fire and thought we might need assistance. I had a chance to talk with them, and they convinced me of the importance of enlisting in the Cortazian Army. I told them I didn’t want to be a soldier, and they said there were other ways I could serve. I think the fire changed me, Father. It showed me I could lose you. Maybe there is something I can do to make a difference.”
The old man’s eyes lost their focus for a moment, turning lost and vaguely sad. He nodded his gray head. “Maybe, Son. Maybe. But, why do you have to go now? Why now when the store’s a mess, and Jinn and Erec are gone? And why go off fighting ghosts and whatnot?”
“Because I don’t think they are ghosts, Father. I think they’re real.” Darr swallowed hard in spite of himself. He’d finally admitted it. His reasons for going weren’t all selfish, but centered on a belief that the Soul Seekers were real, even if the rest of Ictar didn’t believe it.
His father grunted and shifted his body. “Well,” he said with a sigh. “Well, I always did raise my children to think for themselves. Besides, I suppose I can get along without you for a while. Arn will help me out ‘til I’m back on my feet, then no one will be able to stop me.” The old man reached up and grabbed onto Darr’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “Are you gonna be okay? How are you getting to Darlholme?”<
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“I’m going with the soldiers,” he lied again, feeling all too uneasy with how good he was at it. “I have to be going soon.”
The old man nodded and smiled fiercely. “You take care of yourself, and you better have a whole cartload of stories for me when you get back, Boy.”
Darr smiled and nodded back. He imagined he would, though not the ones his father expected to hear. The Summoner rose and looked down on his father one final time. The old man smiled again, then closed his eyes and returned to sleep. Darr smiled in response, both sad and excited.
He walked swiftly from the room and down the hallway. In the sitting room, he retrieved his travel cloak from the back of one of the couches. After taking one last look around the house and whispering an oath to see it again, the Summoner opened the front door and bounded off the porch into the morning light.
A horrible weight had lifted off Darr’s shoulders after he’d spoken with his father, though the tactics he’d used were questionable. Nobody in Tyfor really understood his desire to leave. Most everyone was content with their lives, and they would never know anything beyond the borders of the village. Even though his reasons were selfish, knowledge about the world was a good thing.
Once he reached the cellar of the store, Darr momentarily forgot his doubts. He found his backpack there, a relic if he’d ever seen one, but he cherished it because it had once belonged to his mother. It was also coated with a resin that would protect its contents from the elements, almost as if his mother continued to watch out for him. Darr crammed in a heavy blanket for the cold and a flint for starting fires. Of the little traveling he’d done over the years, he’d never been away this late in the fall. At the back of the room, he went into the cold locker and removed a loaf of bread, cheese, and a pouch of dried beef, foods that didn’t require him to carry heavy cooking equipment. Satisfied, he blew out the lamp.
Everything he needed he had with him. With stunning disbelief, Darr faced the beginning of his journey. Tyfor had nothing more to offer him except a homecoming. He took a final look around at the dawn dusted buildings and homes, and at the carefully tended fields off in the distance that for so long had been a prison. The Summoner knew he’d be longing for the entire landscape in the days to come. With a casual wave, he turned down the road leading east out of Tyfor.
One main road led out of Tyfor and straight to Trenton Pass, and from there, to Stern. He knew about navigating the pass from Erec’s stories of his travels there. Even though Nidic Waq said there would be a guide, Darr had his journey planned out. He didn’t want to put his quest in the hands of someone else.
The Spirit Summoner made his way up the road at a quick, but steady pace, careful not to let his body tire too rapidly. He passed by the outlying farms and houses, keeping his head lowered for he knew the inhabitants would be awake by now. No need to draw attention to himself.
Darr hiked steadily, following the rolling hills upward. Tyfor and its encompassing forest turned into a dark smear in the background.
Morning bowed to afternoon, afternoon waned into evening, and time melted away in the cool fall air. Thick clouds had been rolling in over the past hour, studding the overcast skies with humps of black. A storm approached, and Darr intended to reach the pass before it struck.
He climbed over steep terrain that made his progress more difficult. The Summoner cinched up his pack, keeping his eyes focused on the cut between the mountains before him. Where was the guide Nidic Waq said he’d send? He’d seen no one. Perhaps his guide wouldn’t show and he’d have to complete his journey alone. The clouds overhead grew darker as he climbed higher into the foothills. He pushed on against the cold rush of wind now blowing down out of the Valimere, scrambling up the high slope in a desperate effort to reach the safety of the pass.
When the first few raindrops started to fall, Darr realized he might not know the way to Trenton Pass as well as he thought. A deep ravine cut across his path, barring his passage into the mountains. The Summoner believed the ravine stretched a short distance in length, yet the further he traveled, the longer the ravine grew in width and depth. After another hour of climbing, and with darkness rapidly descending, Darr admitted failure. The ravine was an impassible stretch of overgrowth dragging on for miles up into the Valimere.
When he looked back the way he’d come, the foothills below were small folds of grass and miniature trees. Rain fell in steady sheets, and combined with the wind and darkness, the cold turned from bothersome to miserable. Darr needed shelter, and he knew he wouldn’t find it on the open mountainside.
With fresh resolve, the Summoner climbed into their shadowy folds. The terrain lost its stability as the rocks of the Valimere completely overtook what remained of the foothill grasses. Trenton Pass was a natural thoroughfare of the Valimere. There should’ve been a road or a path, but Darr saw nothing anywhere in the distance. His confidence slipped away, and with it, his patience.
The Summoner continued to berate himself when he went down in a flurry of loose rock and mud. It took a moment to recover, but when he did, he was completely soaked and disoriented. The rain fell in sheets now, and with nightfall upon him, he couldn’t tell which way to go. The slope of the hill led upwards, but he couldn’t be sure any longer if he would be led back towards the edge of the ravine or further away from the pass.
Doubt evaporated from his mind with the streak of lightning that lit up the sky behind him and the clap of thunder that followed. Darr started up the slope, concerned only with seeking shelter, hiking faster now as he dashed from muddy slide to muddy slide in an attempt to prevent another fall. He made good time, congratulating himself he’d made it as far as he had. Before long, he’d be resting within the shelter of the Valimere. He managed a quick smile. Another bolt of lightning flashed, breaking the Summoner’s concentration as the entire mountainside lit up.
The flash sent him off balance. Darr went down in a heap. He fell harder this time, striking his head against a clump of gravel and mud. He lay for a minute and let the rain beat on him, dazed from the blow. He reached up to his face to check for damage and after finding none, scrambled back onto all fours. The weight of the pack fought against the mud and the angle of the slope, and when he tried to stand, he slipped and fell onto his back.
For a moment, Darr lay in the mud in disbelief, letting the rain wash over him. Everything had gone wrong, leaving him lost, cold, and wet. He tried to sit up, but the weight of his pack pulled him down. In a moment of hoarded frustration, he yelled. He didn’t yell at anyone in particular. The Summoner howled in pure annoyance of his situation, his voice carrying over the sound of the storm itself.
His voice cracked, and the small moment of silence allowed the spirits to come flooding into his mind. The spirits snapped Darr to attention, instantly making him aware of their presence.
Then they were gone.
Darr blinked in surprise against the downpour of rain. What had just happened? It was like a door to the Currents had been opened long enough to feel the presence of the spirits, then closed.
The Summoner lifted his head and looked down the slope. A black shape approached through the torrent of rain. Startled, Darr writhed in the mud, attempting to regain his feet. He managed to roll over and get up on one knee. The black form was right on top of him, a massive, frightening shape. Lightning flashed across the sky, and Darr saw it clearly, shaped like a man, robed and hooded. Soul Seekers!
Without a second thought, Darr leapt to his feet, clawing his way up the high slope. A massive hand clamped down on his shoulder and pulled him back.
Chapter Five
“With the blessing of High Elder Caeranol, Symdus went to work unlocking the secrets of immortality. He established a workshop to conduct his experiments and brought together a team of men and women to assist. Symdus and his assistants studied the Currents, examining its timelessness and searching for ways to apply its secrets to the physical world.”
~From A Current History of Ictar, as to
ld by Nidic Waq
In an instant, the truths Darr perceived about the world were shattered and his life changed forever. With grating clarity, Darr knew the forbidden power of magic had come back into being, and he was somehow a part of it. When the massive hand closed about his shoulder, the hand that belonged to some unimaginable evil, the Summoner automatically joined with the Currents. The spirits flooded in and all truths were laid bare.
And Darr knew no Soul Seeker pursued him, instead, an Archon, somehow brought from the Currents into physical form had ahold of him.
Archons were ghosts, he told himself--they were the spiritual presence residing within the Sephirs, guiding their magic across Ictar in harmonious balance. They weren’t real people and certainly had no physical form. The iron grip spun him around.
“This way, follow me. Quickly now,” the Archon’s voice rumbled, as if born from the stone of the Valimere.
Darr didn’t hesitate. He followed the dark-robed figure down the slope a short distance until they were met by the jagged edge of the ravine, its black maw lit by another flash of lightning.
Hesitantly, Darr looked down into its depths through tearing wind and rain.
“Careful now, young Reintol,” the Archon said above the noise of the storm. “We only have a short distance left to go.”
The Archon started down without slowing, and Darr charged blindly after. Slick and treacherous, the slope had become a muddy wash of rain and loose rock. The Summoner pitched headlong into the ravine with each step, but his guide stopped at every misstep Darr took, an immutable wall, always in the right position to provide support.
They reached the black base of the ravine in a matter of minutes. Scrub brush and thick-limbed pines choked any visible passage, but the Archon forged ahead, making his own path through the darkness and cold. Darr followed after in near blindness, pushing right up against the Archon to prevent separation. They were traveling along the base of the ravine, working their way steadily upwards into the Valimere from what Darr could tell. With each step, he grew weaker and colder. The storm crushed down on them with suffocating force. His legs were beginning to tire, and Darr knew it wouldn’t be long before his entire body gave out.
The Children of the Light: Book 1: Spirit Summoner Page 4