The calming hue of the Currents, and the spinning white lights of the spirits, were all he was aware of. He could barely remember why he’d come here. Did he have a family? Did he have a purpose? What was his name?
His questions no longer mattered. He gave in to the memories and emotions of the spirits driving him onward. He reveled in their wisdom and in the countless lives they shared. He danced with them, swirling about the ether as they did. The Summoner shared all his feelings of exhilaration and joy and...
...horror.
He froze. Something clicked in his mind, a tugging sensation. The spirits closed in tight, choking off his suspicions. Something was wrong, but he’d fallen too far into the Currents to figure it out. He couldn’t even remember his own name. Yet, another name had been preserved in the depths of his mind, a name he knew would free him. But he mustn’t speak it. He must will it.
--Racall--
A jolt of certainty coursed through him as he uttered the name, an utterance he made with only his Light. The spirits crowded over him in mad defiance, but their efforts were in vain. Wisteria light gave way to green and a massive shape exploded between the Summoner and the spirits. The ethereal forms scattered in every direction across the Currents. Darr’s memories cascaded down into his head, returning him to himself. First and foremost, he heard Racall’s lesson that the spirits were not to be trifled with for they would make him one of them.
Racall’s broad shape materialized out of the green light, reflecting a number of emotions Darr didn’t know the Archon possessed, worry and relief.
“I hope you have learned a valuable lesson, young Reintol,” he said in the familiar harmonized voice.
Darr was still shaken from his experience. “I should’ve taken greater care when I approached the spirits. How did I reach you? My voice was so strange.”
A trace of satisfaction radiated out of the Archon. “You are learning, Summoner. You are learning how to navigate the Currents as you are meant to.”
Racall motioned towards a light spot in the spirit realm. The forms of Erec and Jinn appeared before them, their Lights unchanged since Darr began his journey into the Currents.
“It is time to return, young Reintol. You have found what you came here for.”
The Summoner looked back at his brother and sister, and he drew his mind out of the Currents...
...he heard the sound of a blade drawn from its sheath.
Darr’s eyes flickered open. Erec stood protectively before Jinn with his sword held before him. The Summoner knew he’d only been in the Currents for what seemed a moment, but Erec’s instincts were faster. In the span of a few seconds, Racall had materialized in the center of the room, robed and hooded.
“Darr, get up!” Erec yelled.
The Summoner leapt to his feet and stretched his arm out to his brother. “Put your sword down. This is a friend. This is Racall.”
The Archon reached up and pulled back his hood. Jinn and Erec gasped, likely from the sight of the giant’s strange green eyes. Darr couldn’t help but smile in recognition of their shock. It didn’t seem that long ago he’d reacted the same way.
Any fears Erec might’ve possessed vanished. He stepped towards the Archon in challenge. “You say this creature is a friend, Darr, but he appeared out of thin air,” Erec stated with his sword held high.
Racall’s leaden gaze weighed down on Erec. “My appearance here has little to do with whether I am a friend or not. Appearances can be deceiving, so take care to judge accordingly.” The Archon looked past Erec. “Hello, little Jinn,” he said warmly. Jinn smiled and rose from where she crouched beside Erec.
The Archon started to walk towards Darr, but Erec took another step forward, coming between them. “You still haven’t answered my question. How did you appear here out of nothing? Nobody uses tricks like that unless they’re using magic.”
“I am sorry, young Erec. I did not realize you had asked a question earlier,” Racall said, his tone smooth and calm. Darr knew his brother must be burning up inside. “And I did not use magic to get here, nor did I appear out of thin air. Perhaps your brother has not told you yet, but I came here from the realm of the spirits. I came because your brother summoned me.”
Darr stared wide-eyed. Racall made the last few steps to the bed and seated himself. How had he managed to summon Racall when he hadn’t been trying?
“Racall, do you mean that voice I used...?”
The Archon raised his hand, silencing him. “Now is not the time for questions about your training. All I have given you is enough to set you on your way. The rest will come so long as you remember the lessons I have taught. Your timing in finding me could not have been better, for tonight I have discovered the location of the Sephir of Water.”
“Is that where you were?” Darr asked, stepping around Erec in the process.
Racall nodded. “There are great shadows masking the Currents. I could not look for the Sephir there, but nonetheless, I located it. It is here in Stern, but deep within...”
“Wait, you can’t be taking this seriously!” Erec sputtered. He stood within a few feet of Racall, his gestures threatening even with his sword lowered. “This has gone on too long, Darr. I don’t care if magic is real or not. I don’t care if there are spirits or Archons or whatever. You’re coming home. Now. Tonight. We’re leaving this city, this creature, and all this madness behind.”
Darr started to object, but Racall turned toward his brother, calm in the face of Erec’s rage. “Your anger is unwarranted, young Erec. It will take you down a path to your destruction should you follow it too far. It will push away everyone and everything you hold dear, leaving you stranded and incapable of ever returning.”
A ripple in the Currents washed over Darr, a peaceful sense of reservation Racall brought out in Erec. His brother relaxed his shoulders and nodded his head, a meek child before an adult. Racall looked over his shoulder at Jinn standing motionless on the other side of the bed.
“Do you see, little Jinn over there? She is so composed and perceptive. She reflects the discipline you require, and you would do well to learn something from her. It is restraint, not anger, you require if you would be a Cortazian warrior.”
The Archon returned his gaze to Darr. “Now, young Reintol, the Sephir of Water can be found several miles within the mountains backing the city. Not up their slopes, but inside their core.”
Darr shook his head. “I thought you said the Sephir was still in Stern.”
“It is, in a manner of speaking. In the waterway passage running beneath Dacon Fortress, the Sephir waits at the very source of the Lourcient River.” Racall rose from the bed. “We must hurry though. I have arranged for the gates and dams of the passage to remain open, but only for tonight. We must go now.”
Without the slightest hesitation, Jinn walked to Racall, looked up at his massive frame, and said, “I’m going too.”
“No, you’re not,” Darr said, giving her no flexibility.
“Yes, I am.” Her large green eyes revealed her determination in the matter. “I must see this for myself if you want my support.”
“I don’t care about your support, Jinn. I want you to be safe.”
His sister shook her head. “If what you say is true, I won’t be safe for a long time, if ever. I won’t be able to accept what you’re doing until I see it for myself.”
“Me either.” Erec strode forward, a stern look on his face that made Darr cringe. “Besides, if I let you go off alone, I’m going to feel guilty when you get hurt.”
An awkward silence fell between them. Darr, now completely aghast, hoped his siblings would realize the danger they were putting themselves in. The Summoner cast his desperation to Racall with the wish he would put an end to this madness.
The Archon disposition was as cheerful as ever. “I suppose it is settled, except for the young Summoner there. He will change his mind. We must leave immediately though--four bodies travel slower than two.”
Rac
all turned and opened the door, ushering Erec out first. Jinn rushed to her pack to retrieve her long knife before following. Darr remained behind, his eyes frozen with helplessness on Racall. The Archon nodded his head in understanding from the doorway before he waved his hand to motion the way out.
Darr reluctantly followed.
Chapter Eleven
“As his hunger increased, Symdus began draining the Light from the lesser races of Man, Elf, Dwarf, and Ogre. When he couldn’t find enough Light to satisfy his needs, he began feeding on his own kind, and when he couldn’t find enough by himself, he created Soul Seekers, elementals created from the Light itself. The Soul Seekers ravaged the landscape, searching out life of any kind to steal Light for Symdus to add to his own. This final act was Symdus’s undoing.”
~From A Current History of Ictar, as told by Nidic Waq
Rain fell in sheets from the dark skies over Stern. Miniature streams ran down the hill from Dacon Fortress into the canals crisscrossing the streets. A calm fell over the city, save for the constant spattering of rain, and the trickling of running water. For the first time in weeks, Stern was at peace.
It wouldn’t last, not if Darr failed to find the missing Sephir. Feeling the bitterness of his thought, Darr shook it away.
The Summoner followed behind Racall’s substantial form with Jinn at his side. They walked up Stern’s cobblestone thoroughfare while Erec trailed behind, his cautious apprehension obvious to Darr. The four kept an even pace, growing ever closer to Dacon Fortress, the one time home to the Cortazian Kings. In the darkness of night, the stronghold and all its formidable walls and battlements were visible. Torches burned from the heights, their distant lights marking where soldiers kept watch. The structure took on the appearance of a massive stone cube, the city’s vigilant sentinel. Somewhere at its peak, the Glass Tower rose, the altar room of the absent Sephir of Water, but in the cloudy blackness of night the tower’s framework was invisible.
“Darr, what do you have to do when you find the Sephir?” Jinn whispered, leaning close.
The Summoner stared and shook his head. “I’m not really sure.”
His sister gave him a startled look. “Have you asked Racall yet?”.
“Well, kind of, but he was more intent on teaching me about summoning. So I guess it has something to do with that.”
Jinn didn’t look convinced. “It doesn’t seem like a time to be guessing.”
They continued in silence, leaving Darr to contemplate his situation. Nidic Waq had sent him, not Racall, to secure the Sephirs. Perhaps Racall and Nidic Waq believed he’d find whatever magic he possessed when endangered, but that didn’t seem right. Something about Racall’s presence went beyond being an instructor and guide. It had to do with Darr learning to summon and with whatever awaited them at the source of the Lourcient.
The Archon glanced back over his shoulder, catching Darr’s eye with the movement. He smiled reassuringly before turning his attention back to the road.
The four approached the high wall fronting Dacon Fortress and turned down a side street leading past one of the many surrounding vineyards. It took several minutes to cross the sprawling field, but at its far boundary, they came to a channel cut much deeper and wider than the others.
Along here, the Lourcient River flowed from deep within the mountains and through the city to the Hondor Falls. An iron grate had been removed where the artery connected to Dacon Fortress, allowing entrance into the darkened passage beyond. Racall led them to the channel’s edge and found a spot where metal brackets were hammered into its side, likely for workmen.
Without hesitation, the Archon climbed down and splashed ankle-deep into the stagnant water. Jinn shrugged and followed. She landed with a splash. The water came up to her knees.
Up the high wall of the fortress, the gaze of a lone patrolling sentry landed on Darr, his grim face outlined by the hazy light of a torch. The sentry watched him for a moment, turned, and continued his patrol heedless of the intruders below.
“What do you suppose that was all about?” Erec asked.
Darr shook his head. “I’m not sure. I bet Racall knows something.”
“You know, you rely on that creature a lot for someone who’s supposed to be doing this quest on his own,” Erec muttered.
Darr ignored him and climbed down into the channel with his brother behind him, and in moments, the four stood reunited in what remained of the Lourcient River. Racall led them into the monstrous passage beneath Dacon. He took them forward several more paces onto the passage burrowed into inky blackness, until they came to a narrow alcove barely illuminated by the ambient light. The Archon worked with something for a moment. A spark appeared, and the acrid smell of burning pitch filled the air when two torches sprung to life. The alcove where the torches waited turned into a staircase, winding up into the fortress above them.
Racall handed a torch to Jinn and Darr while Erec glowered at him and said, “Pretty convenient--those torches laying down here in the dead of night when normally this place is underwater. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this Archon is leading you into a trap, Darr.”
“Erec!” Jinn rasped, her face knotted in anger at the accusation.
Darr tried to quiet Erec, but his brother shoved him aside. “I saw the guards up on the walls. They knew we were coming. So tell me, Archon, what’re you up to?”
Erec scowled up at Racall, but the Archon remained immovable and without emotion. “I have told you once before, young Erec, but we are here to take back the Sephir of Water and restore it to the Currents. I have made the Divine of Stern aware of what is going on, and they have made the arrangements that will allow us access to these tunnels.” Before Erec had a chance to respond, the Archon turned his back and continued down the tunnel.
Darr looked back at his brother, wanting to question his rationale, but instead he followed after Racall with Jinn at his side. Erec stood rooted in place.
“This is nonsense,” he yelled. “Sephirs and magic and the Divine--the Divine of all people should know there’s no magic anymore. They’d never sanction this. I’m telling you, Darr, he’s leading you into a trap.”
The Summoner stopped walking. Surrounded by the halo of light from his torch, he turned towards Erec’s shadowy form and said, “No, Erec. He’s not leading me into a trap. I’d know it if he was. Now, you can follow us, so we can prove you wrong, or you can go back. Either way, I don’t care.”
With a curt nod, Darr turned and continued down the passage. A moment later, Erec’s footfalls splashed through the water to catch up.
The waterway of the Lourcient was a masterpiece of Dwarf engineering, built during a short alliance with the Cortazians during the Aeon Wars. The retractable locks and dams built into recesses within the rock amazed Darr. The mechanisms were hundreds of years old, but still in use today, all controlled from within the safety of Dacon. An enemy could never gain control of the Lourcient River unless they gained control of the fortress, and no one ever had. Though someone had managed to steal the Water Sephir.
The little company navigated their way through the locks, all of which had been opened for their passing. In the near dark and slick with moisture, the dams were their most formidable obstacle, but Racall knew of hidden footholds that allowed climbing. After nearly an hour of travel, the passage lost its unnatural, manmade appearance. The walls were no longer smooth from the hands of bricklayers, but smoothed from the power of the river itself. Menacing, jagged stone overhangs drooped from the ceiling signaling their arrival inside the mountains.
“Racall, what do we have to do to get the Sephir back?” Darr asked. As he awaited an answer, his hand fidgeted at his sides.
The Archon sloshed through the water, but his voice echoed clearly against the passage walls. “I was wondering when you were going to ask. I warned you not to let your fear rule you.”
Darr remained patient, letting the spirit creature slow his march long enough to pace himself alongside the S
ummoner and his sister. Erec still trailed several feet behind, brooding in the shadows.
“As we traveled through the Valimere, I told you about the Four Archons’ relationship with the Sephirs,” Racall said.
Darr thought it over. “Yes. You said the Archons were the voices of balance within the Sephirs. Nothing is more important to them than holding back Chaos.”
Behind them, Erec let out a long sigh. Racall ignored him. “That is correct. But sometimes, the Archons are forced to destroy in order to maintain. A windstorm must sometimes destroy a thriving forest, or an earthquake will sometimes swallow a valuable water source. This is why the Four Elements all have a counterbalance found in another element, to ensure one element cannot grow stronger than the rest.”
“What does that have to do with the theft of the Sephir?” Darr asked, a twinge of annoyance in his voice.
The spirit creature smiled and walked ahead. “Every force of life and magic wears a second face, and the Archons are not exempt from this rule. We carry dark urgings within ourselves that allows us to destroy and corrupt when it is necessary. For the most part, our destructive sides are kept controlled and repressed, though sometimes they break free. Sometimes they are summoned.” Racall’s tone grew deeper and ominous. “We call them Ovids.”
Darr grew quiet. The spirits had already begun to whisper warnings of the deadly creature into his mind. The Ovid they would face was born from the Water Sephir. That’s why Racall was with him. Earth was the natural counterbalance to the element of Water.
“Summoned?” Erec asked, his tone skeptical. “Who would summon such a creature? The Soul Seekers?”
Darr remained silent. He still didn’t want to tell his siblings about the Devoid. Not only did it stretch his already unbelievable stories further, but he wasn’t quite sure he believed it himself. The Devoid was too much of a myth to accept as real.
The Children of the Light: Book 1: Spirit Summoner Page 10