The Children of the Light: Book 1: Spirit Summoner

by Matt Campbell

  Oasis had a much different look during the day than it had the previous night. Buildings stood proud and cared for along the busy road. The merchants and townspeople they passed were indifferent to them, but not unkind. Once they reached the end of the thoroughfare, they were required to pass through an inner wall, Oasis’ main defense. Like Tyfor, the farming communities outside the inner wall appeared cared for and stable. The city’s fortifications encased the farmland as well, running west to the mountains and east to the ocean. The Kurflinese lived within a cage.

  They reached the southern walls of Oasis shortly after midmorning. The soldiers standing guard at the gate might’ve questioned them had they known they were heading into the Dwarf Borderlands, but Nidic Waq gave the name of a town to the west. The guards let them pass without incident.

  For the remainder of the day, the company of five traveled south across the plains. The low, blunt peaks rising up before them marked the Dwarf Borderlands. They kept their conversations to a minimum, and stopped to rest only twice.

  Nightfall brought them to the bottom of the rolling foothills leading up into the Borderlands where they made their camp. The night air felt crisp, but pleasant. Not long after the company had settled down around a low fire and prepared supper. Erec and Conra talked politics regarding the Kurflinese, and Darr and Jinn talked of home. Nidic Waq remained silent, wrapped in his white robes while sitting before the fire.

  They were finishing their meal when Nidic Waq leaned towards the fire, illuminating his wide features.

  “I want you all to know about the journey in the days to come.” Darr managed a sideways glance at Jinn and found her staring vigilantly at the prophet. “We’ll be taking Fenihks Pass into the Triker. The route is difficult, but navigable. It should take us two days to reach the other side. Afterwards, I’ll take you only as far as the town called the Crossroads before heading west for Jakova.”

  “So how do we get to Arcnor?” Jinn asked.

  “We’ll be met within the Triker by friends who’ll show you the way,” the prophet replied in a gentle tone.

  Conra hunched forward and asked, “Why are you taking us through Fenihks Pass? There are safer routes into the Triker.”

  “The Seekers are still hunting me,” Nidic Waq said. “It will be easier to slip past them on the less traveled paths.”

  Erec laughed. “It’d be easier to go without you then.”

  “If you can find the Soul Seekers before they find you, then yes, you should go without me.” Erec started to say something but Nidic Waq interrupted. “Keep in mind, Erec, you won’t be able to detect their presence physically. You’ll have to rely on your brother’s skill to navigate the Currents for any kind of warning, and by the time he’s able to figure out what threatens, the Seekers will be upon you.”

  Darr suppressed his urge to dispute Nidic Waq. Though navigating the Currents had become much easier, the spirits had failed to warn him of the Seekers in the Valimere. A feeling of deep cold had given the only indication, and that’d been too paralytic to help.

  Nobody had anything to say after the prophet finished. One by one, they rolled themselves into their blankets and went to sleep. Darr thought briefly of who would stay up to keep watch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nidic Waq, his solitary form outlined in firelight.

  * * * *

  The second day went much like the first as Nidic Waq led them up into Fenihks Pass. Compared to the path they took through the Barricades, the terrain might as well be an open field, but their trail oftentimes disappeared amid the winding defiles.

  They camped for the night at the top of the pass beneath a massive rock structure resembling a bird stretching upwards in flight.

  “The Ancients took shelter within these mountains when the Devoid first started its hunt for them,” Nidic Waq said at a slow point in the evening. The sun had just set but it was too early to sleep. “An old legend of theirs told of a bird that could revive itself after death. They named the pass after the structure above us, seeing in this image their own perseverance. After the departure of the Ancients, the name of the pass and its legend survived, passed down by the races of Ictar.”

  Conra hunched forward and said, “The Ancient’s have left much for us to examine.”

  “It’s amazing to me the amount of influence they’ve had on the races,” Nidic Waq replied. “Their stories have passed into Ictar’s history, surviving even the catastrophic violence of the Aeon Wars. It’s a comfort to know some things aren’t subject to the dictates of time and change.”

  Nidic Waq lapsed into silence once more. There had to be more to the story of the Chosen of the Light, but the prophet wouldn’t be telling them anytime soon.

  On the third day, as they descended out of the Borderlands, the rocky slopes merged with the towering pines of the Triker. As usual, nobody wanted to talk. Fear of the Soul Seekers was likely the cause.

  Around noon, the low peaks of the Dwarf Borderlands disappeared behind them. The massive trees of the forest rose up, and the path ahead stretched into darkness interspersed with thin shoots of daylight. No wonder the Seekers had chosen the Triker as their first target.

  When the way forward became too dark to navigate, Nidic Waq brought them all to a halt within a broad clearing illuminated by the fading daylight. They settled down and wrapped up in blankets to keep warm since Nidic Waq forbid any kind of fire. A half moon shone down from above giving a small measure of comfort from its light.

  “I haven’t been forthcoming about Jinn’s role as the Healer of the Light,” Nidic Waq said, his quiet voice breaking the silence. “I prefer to focus on the journey at hand, rather than on the trials ahead. You’ve all been patient, especially you, Jinn.”

  Darr, Jinn, and Conra hunched forward so the prophet wouldn’t have to spread his voice. Erec sat outside their circle, avoiding the conversation.

  Nidic Waq’s features were barely identifiable when he began. “Because of my service to Caeranol, I’m privileged as well. When Caeranol established his covenant, he left only a few details as to what was required of each of the Chosen. There will be four, each with a specific role in defeating the Devoid. The Healer of the Light will carry a talisman called the Moonstone. I’m not entirely sure how this magic is to be implemented, but it will be one of four necessary components.”

  “What does it do?” Darr asked, curious as to the nature of the magic his sister would wield.

  Nidic Waq didn’t immediately answer. “The Moonstone is a relic from the time of the Ancients, but its true origins are unknown. Its power allows the user to break down the physical effects of magic and disperse it back to the Currents.”

  The light of the moon outlined Jinn’s features. Her face masked whatever she felt, and Darr refused to venture a look into the Currents to check on her.

  “So how do I find this Moonstone?” Jinn asked, her tone strong but quiet. “What do I do until I find it?”

  Nidic Waq’s voice turned stern, but not cold. “You do both by staying alive. Along with Caeranol’s covenant, the Divine were charged with protection of the talismans that would bring the fall of the Devoid. Only they know how and where to retrieve the Moonstone, and until you find the Divine who will show you the way, you must stay alive.”

  “How are we supposed to locate this Divine?” Conra asked.

  “The Divine who holds the answers you seek will be near the Sephirs,” Nidic Waq answered. “Caeranol knew the Sephirs would be threatened when the Devoid returned, and he placed his Divine accordingly. When it’s time, the Divine will find you.”

  Herdas, the Divine who helped them in Stern had been sympathetic and understanding of Darr’s trials. He knew why the Sephirs needed restoration. Was Herdas one of Caeranol’s Divine? If so, had they missed something important from him?

  “Be silent.” The words rushed out of Nidic Waq in a hiss.

  Darr froze, listening to the Currents. Whatever Nidic Waq sensed was undetectable to him. At his side, Jinn h
eld herself rigid. Erec and Conra started to move, but another hiss from Nidic Waq halted them.

  “Do you feel it?” Nidic Waq asked, his voice so quiet Darr could barely hear.

  Within his own Light, Darr went cold. He focused, searching for the source of the feeling. Nothing physical accompanied the sensation, like when the spiritual realm had torn open, except this feeling came without the spirits. Numbing cold, endless and unfeeling.

  Three black shapes emerged into the pale light of the clearing, detaching themselves from the shadows of the trees around them, darker than ink spilled on parchment. They stood upright, wearing tattered robes and cowls, and the silvery glimmer of hooked claws dangled at their sides. Their faces weren’t visible, only the depthless void of their cowls.

  The Soul Seekers had found them.

  Nidic Waq rose to his feet, his forbidding appearance equal to that of the Seekers. The black creatures didn’t move, but they watched. Darr knew better. They were waiting to strike. Nidic Waq took a step back, putting himself before his charges.

  The prophet motioned Darr and his companions to stand. “The Seekers are created from the Light of the Currents,” Nidic Waq said. “They are bound to the physical world only by their robes. Cut through their robes, and the binding fails. Be quick about it,for they’re fast and ruthless enemies.”

  Erec rose to his feet and drew out his short sword. A moment later Conra, with crossbow held ready, appeared beside him. Jinn stepped behind Darr. They both had hunting knives and no other defense except for the men protecting them.

  Terror roared through Darr. He couldn’t fight the Seekers with a knife. On impulse, he established a connection with the Currents, hoping to summon anything to aid in his defense.

  The spirits cannot help you here, Darr. Nidic Waq spoke to him, his words drifting through the space of the Currents. The Seekers aren’t part of the Four Elements and they aren’t subject to the same rules. They can attack you both here and in the Currents. Be patient. Help is on the way.

  Before Darr could relax his mind, Nidic Waq threw his arm wide and released a bolt of white fire from his outstretched hand. The air crackled and the fiery bolt rushed forward, incinerating the middle Seeker.

  The two remaining Soul Seekers rushed aside, missing the white fire and vanishing into the dark. Erec stumbled backwards in an effort to protect Jinn, while Conra fired a bolt from his bow into the darkness. Nidic Waq dove to the side, his fingertips glowing in the moonlight as he bore down on one of the Seekers as it reappeared. The last Seeker’s liquid motion dispersed into the shadows of the Triker and was lost.

  Darr dropped instinctively, missing the slashing claws of the Seeker as it charged into the clearing. Conra fired a bolt pointblank but it only tore a hole in the creature’s robe. From out of nowhere, Erec dashed up behind the Soul Seeker, his sword tearing away at its back. The creature stumbled away and flung its arm around, knocking Erec square in the chest and sending him flying. He didn’t stay down. By the time the Seeker had turned around, Erec tore into it again, dodging blindly past its claws.

  Darr ran to Jinn’s side and pulled her back to the center of the clearing. Conra shouted out a sudden warning and Darr found the other Soul Seeker racing for him. The Summoner froze, anticipating the end.

  A massive axe soared down before him, and a stout figure rose up. In one swift motion, he lifted the axe and brought it down again. The blade split the Soul Seeker down the middle, and robes and all, it erupted into a cloud of ash. Darr fell backwards in shock, crouching protectively over Jinn when the clearing lit up with the white fire commanded by Nidic Waq. The prophet stood before them as the ashes of the last Seeker exploded around him.

  “Is it over?” Jinn asked, her voice shaking.

  “Not yet,” the man who’d saved them said, his voice deep and powerful.

  A Dwarf, marked by his stocky build and dark skin. Another Dwarf appeared from out of the forest, this one taller and leaner than the other, but his complexion unmistakable.

  “There are more heading this way. We must be quick,” the newcomer whispered. He came up to Darr and Jinn, offering his hand and lifting them to their feet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Darr Reintol, but we can talk more once we are safe. My name is Feywen Dery and this is my friend, Lacdur.”

  Nidic Waq emerged beside them with Erec and Conra a step behind. “How close are they?”

  “Close enough to see our teeth,” Lacdur grumbled, his eyes intense.

  Feywen glanced over his shoulder and said, “Grab your things and let’s go.”

  Darr and his companions snatched up their packs. With Nidic Waq behind them, the company chased after the Dwarves into the Triker with the Soul Seekers in pursuit.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “From within the Currents, Caeranol watched the races fight amongst themselves. The spirits had tasked him with maintaining the balance between life and death, but Caeranol did what he could to protect the races from themselves. His reach within the physical realm was short, so he relied on the Currents to prevent the most brutal atrocities from taking place.”

  ~From A Current History of Ictar, as told by Nidic Waq

  Darr and his companions followed Feywen Dery through the black trees of the Triker. The Summoner didn’t know where they were going, and he wished he knew more about the man with whom he trusted his life. Nidic Waq’s faith would have to do.

  Jinn looked back at him, her round face outlined by shadows and small fragments of light. Darr couldn’t communicate with her, so he focused on keeping his senses sharp instead. Tree trunks whipped past them, blurry shadows in the night, and their footfalls were soft from the thick padding of needles on the forest floor.

  Several times, Feywen stopped and brought them to a halt. He would stand still for several moments as if searching for something. Sometimes he would send Lacdur on ahead while he waited in silence with the group. It appeared Feywen and Lacdur communicated through sign language, but Darr couldn’t be sure. Every time they stopped, no more than a few minutes passed before Feywen led them onward.

  They ran for more than an hour before they finally stopped. The Dwarves found an outcropping of boulders with a crevice on one side that opened up into a small cave. Feywen and Lacdur kept their eyes on the trees around them while they shuffled their charges inside. When Darr and the others were under cover, Feywen whispered something to Nidic Waq before racing off into the night with Lacdur.

  The small company sat motionless and silent within their hideaway. Nidic Waq guarded the entrance of the cave, an immutable presence facing out into the night. Erec and Conra retained their loose confidence, rooted in their mutual need for physical excitement. Darr sat with Jinn huddled next to him, her small frame tense, like his own. He’d been completely unprepared for this last encounter with the Soul Seekers.

  Midnight approached when Feywen and Lacdur returned, their bodies bringing in a blast of heat from their overworked muscles. Lacdur dropped down and drank from an ale skin. Feywen sat down in an empty space along the cave wall away from anyone else.

  “They’re gone,” Feywen said after a moment’s rest.

  A collective sigh brushed through the little cave, but Darr thought it might have come from him alone.

  Lacdur stopped drinking and set the skin aside, wiping his hand across his mouth in the process. “They put up a pretty good chase. Had to lure them halfway to the Borderlands before we could ditch them and head back.”

  “So we’re safe?” Darr asked, wanting only one answer.

  Feywen nodded his head. “We will be safe enough for tonight. The Seekers think we went north into the Borderlands, and they’ll not turn back tonight.”

  “How’s that possible?” Conra asked. “You had to have left some kind of trail.”

  “They can’t find us, Elf,” Lacdur said, his voice rough and reprimanding. “The Seekers don’t see things the same way as you and I. ‘Aos--I don’t even think they can see.”

  Feywen inter
jected, “Lacdur and I have been studying the Soul Seekers for almost...four months now...” He paused, took in a deep breath. “We know them better than anyone else in Ictar, except perhaps Nidic Waq. We’ve been tracking their movements and patterns in an attempt to prepare a better defense. Very soon, we’ll report back to the generals in Jakova so they can make use of our information.”

  “What do you mean, they can’t see?” Conra asked again.

  “The Seekers are creations of magic thinly contained in vestments of the physical world,” Nidic Waq answered. “They embody the primal force of death, and as such, they merely seek out life and consume it.”

  “So how did you avoid them?” Erec asked.

  Lacdur laughed and said, “We tricked them. We outdistanced them, then we doubled back far away from where they could sense us. They’re shadows chasing shadows now.”

  Darr couldn’t imagine the courage it’d taken the Dwarves to test the Soul Seekers.

  “How did you two get involved in this?” Darr wondered aloud.

  Feywen leaned back into the cave wall, his features cloaked in the deep shadow. “That, my friend, is a long story. I’m afraid tonight is not the night to tell it, but just know I do this for personal reasons, Lacdur as well. These are the respects we pay to our king.” The Dwarf hesitated a moment before adding, “And my father.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Erec blurted out.

  Lacdur slammed his hand down on his knee, his features agitated despite being saturated in the dark. “It means exactly what it means, Boy.”

  “Feywen Dery is the son of Gyrot Dery, the late King of the Dwarves,” Nidic Waq interrupted, his voice calming. “He’s been kind enough to take you all to Arcnor, so I’d let the matter rest for now.”