‘Earlier, when you spoke of your journey from the desert, you spoke of the violent storm which brought you back to Mashesh.’ Eliscius measured each word he spoke, maintaining his rhythm. ‘Back from where, Wist? What do you remember of it?’ Seeing the denial in Wist’s eyes, Eliscius did not wait for a reply.
‘When we first met, scores upon scores of years ago, you had no knowledge of your past and I was content to accept this, but I should have pushed you for more. The answers to these questions lie trapped within you; imprisoned beneath your fears and regrets.’ Eliscius ran his fingers over his forehead, tracing the lines of age.
‘What I saw, as I looked upon your dying form, was another world. Your own world, Wist: your own home, where you were born and grew up, where time takes its natural course and you are bound by its laws and constraints. The knowledge of this is within you, but your own mind protects you from the truth. The walls behind which your memory hides are constructed by you. The violence that you have inflicted upon yourself is the instrument by which you have unwittingly traversed the gap between worlds. You have torn the fabric of existence.’ Despite their gravity, Eliscius’ words contained no bitterness, only a trace of dismay marked their passing.
‘And,’ continued the old man with obvious reluctance, ‘this leads me to believe that this is not the first time you have attempted to end your own life.’
The despair beating at Wist’s head threatened to envelop him.
‘Stop,’ pleaded Wist. ‘Please stop it.’
‘No, my son, I cannot. This you must hear, however terrible; however hard it is for you to bear. Your initial sojourn amongst us Wist, this too was accomplished by a failed attempt to end your life. And you brought an unwitting companion.’
Wist’s mind was too battered by the onslaught of Eliscius’ words to draw the conclusion that should have been all too obvious.
‘Tilden was swept along with you, carried in the wake of your actions.’ Eliscius bowed his head a fraction, lamenting his own failures. ‘His intentions from the outset, however, were purely self-serving. He sought domination and control. I should have seen through him. Forgive my self-flagellation. I have had too long to dwell upon my failings.
‘Wist, I believe that you returned to your world. That is what caused the great rift in the world, the Cataclysm that occurred in the desert. I do not know or understand how you were able to return to your own time and place; perhaps you were saved or rescued.’ Eliscius exhaled feeling the weight of his words and the burden he must place upon his pupil.
‘But Tilden did not return with you. He was not slain during the events that followed your passing. I believe he lost his corporeal form upon your translation back to your world. Too often during the course of my prolonged life have I heard his name whispered, but never have I found anyone who had seen or spoken directly to him since the Cataclysm. Wist, your return to our world must have restored Tilden to his material form. What I fear now is that he may have no limits regarding whom he desires to enslave and dominate. I also fear what he has become: who knows what dark places he has found or with whom he has forged alliances.’ Dregan nodded grimly. ‘But also, I believe that in this form he is vulnerable.’
Eliscius took a deep breath as if he had exhausted his resolve. He sat back fully in his chair. ‘I know this will not be painless for you to accept, but accept it you must. We must know Tilden’s intentions and how we can prevent them coming to fruition.
‘Wist, please listen to me,’ pleaded Eliscius. ‘I know I have said many things which you will not wish to hear. Please understand that I bear no animosity toward you. I do not judge your actions or thoughts.’ Eliscius paused and took a sip from a cup that sat atop the table. He looked withered by the telling of the tale.
‘The plague which threatens our world – the Damned – as they have cruelly named them in Mashesh,’ Eliscius winced as he mentioned his former home, ‘I have discovered its source. That its appearance was coincident with your departure from the world is not chance,’ said Eliscius sombrely. Wist barely heard his words now – too lost in his own pain.
‘The Cataclysm that shook the world when you left, cracked the surface of the world. Deep below the surface, without a path for release, a carious ill has slumbered for millennium. With the breaking of the land, it found its path to the surface. It is no surprise that all along the rupture, the poisonous wrong has found its victims. But it is spreading far and wide now. If it is not stopped, it will devour the people of this world. We must stop this, Wist. We must seal the rupture and bring this evil to an end. There is more of which we must speak. Now I require rest before I can continue.’
Wist sat with his head bowed in his hands, unable or unwilling to raise his eyes. He tried to rouse his anger but he was impotent, trapped within his own weakness. Eliscius nodded painfully to Dregan. He had exhausted himself. The dark mage rose immediately and helped him to move from the room. After they had left, Wist sat once more in a silent room, surrounded by strangers.
‘Well, I do not pretend to understand half of what he said, but it sounds like we are in more than a little trouble,’ said Nikka. His light-hearted tone cut at Wist’s defences. He looked up at the dark dwarf, desperate to reply, but he lacked the fire to release his words.
‘When I was down in that hole amongst the Cerni slaves, I thought about ending it all.’
‘So why didn’t you?’ snapped Wist.
‘My reason was simple: I did not have the opportunity,’ replied Nikka.
--*--
The two days that followed left Wist cold and isolated. He’d refused any food and consumed only a little water. He rebuffed any attempts at communication and had taken to sitting in the small room to which Dregan had shown him. His only companion had been the echoes of conversation that drifted along the dusty corridors of Eliscius’ subterranean home.
Two long days had passed and still he couldn’t force his mind to make sense of the tale Eliscius had told.
This was suicide.
He would not - could not - accept this. He’d been brave and bold during his tutelage in the guards, taught to never accept surrender and to be fearless of imperilment.
It was you, Wist.
His thoughts recoiled from the echoes in his mind. He’d feared this reunion with Eliscius, but the reality had been far worse than anything imagined.
Where have you been?
Many times, he had jumped to his feet in the past two days, determined to confront Eliscius, only for his resolve to fail before he took the two short steps beyond the door to the hall.
He had barely considered what Eliscius had said about the Cataclysm.
Two problems lay at the root of his confusion, intrinsically fused together: where was home, and how did he get from there to here? If he could only disentangle these, then maybe he could find a way to move forward. The scuffle of feet outside announced the arrival of Nikka. Each day, the dark dwarf had come and sat on the edge of his pallet. He had ignored Nikka’s previous attempts to draw him out and, eventually, the Cerni had given up, leaving the unwanted meal at the entrance to the room.
‘Right, I have had enough of this,’ announced the dwarf without preamble. Grabbing Wist by the arm, he brought him to his feet and shoved him towards the door. Ignoring Wist’s protests, Nikka marched him through the halls and back upwards towards the surface. As they emerged out from Eliscius’ cavernous lair, the horripilation of Wist’s skin from the frigid air forced him to rub his arms to keep some warmth in his body.
‘Fresh mountain air,’ grinned Nikka. ‘I doubt anything will clear the fug from you, but I need to taste it at least once a day.’
Wist found, to his surprise, that the sun had not risen yet. From their vantage point, they would be able to see it cut the horizon, out in the vast dunes of the desert soon. A sharp wind arced through him, as he stood exposed on the mountainside. He had lost track of time as he had lay beneath the earth trying to avoid contemplating his fate.
&
nbsp; The Cerni slapped him on the back. ‘You should always try to see the sun rise. Nothing I have ever witnessed can quite compare to the first time I recaptured that lost glory.’
As Nikka’s words faded away, Wist became aware of the sounds of the mountain. The wind marked its icy passing, moaning and whispering through the crags and ravines of the higher mountain passes; small birds sang of the promise that the new day should hold; a nearby stream bubbled contentedly, carrying its bounty down through the mountain.
‘I know what you had to hear cannot have been easy to bear,’ said Nikka, ‘but you should spare a thought for the man who delivered the tale.’
Wist looked at the dark dwarf.
‘It is obvious, even to an old fool such as I, that he loves you. Maybe you missed the tears that he shed, but even without them, he certainly did not enjoy relating your fate. Such are the burdens of power and of foresight.’
‘Why’re you here?’ asked Wist. ‘I’ve had little choice in my fate since I arrived, but why didn’t you just stay in your hole?’ His anger was misplaced and he knew it.
‘Yours was not the only fate he revealed,’ Nikka showed no umbrage at Wist’s discourtesy, but his voice had lost any of the levity it had contained earlier. A painful shadow descended upon him now.
‘I had been promised news of my kin,’ he continued. ‘Despite my detachment from them, I still garner whatever information I can, even if only to help me avoid contact. Lately, I have had no news concerning my old home. It was unusual to have heard nothing in so long a spell. Eliscius told me of how this plague of living death has spread throughout Sordir.’
Nikka paused, gathering his resolve before he continued. ‘Our oldest stories relate how our forebears were a nomadic people who sought the ideal location to settle. Only after millennia did they finally settle on the valley in which Sordir now lies. From that time onward, our people have built and refined that glorious city, making it impenetrable from attack from any side.
‘I may have turned my back on my race, but to hear of the ancestral seat of my people in such straits -. I chose to live my life outwith the walls of Sordir, but I may have been the first in many generations of Cerni to do so.’ Nikka kicked at a stone and sent it tumbling down the mountainside.
‘I am at a loss, Wist,’ said Nikka. ‘Should I return home to aid, in whatever way I can? Or should I leave them to their fate?’
Wist shrugged away the question with an inclination of his shoulders.
‘I do not wish for you to provide answers,’ said Nikka, smiling. ‘I merely wish to air my concerns aloud. It has been some time since I had - companionship of any form.’
Looking out from the mountain, Wist could see the sun break over the horizon. At such a distance, it provided little warmth and did nothing to shift the gloom from his heart.
‘We should go back in,’ declared Nikka, resolute, as if the sun had provided him with some form of insight to his problem. ‘Eliscius needs to speak with us all once more. We shall each need to decide where our paths lie.’ Apparently satisfied with having witnessed the rising of the sun, Nikka extended an arm to shepherd Wist back into the cavern. Again, Wist shrugged in acquiescence and shuffled along in front of Nikka.
He hadn’t given any thought to what would come next: he had been compulsively blocking out thoughts of the future. To plan the future, you must accept the past: Wist’s past was no clearer than it been when he had woken on N’tini’s farm.
Trepidation marked his steps as he walked down the sloped stone corridor that led them back to Eliscius. When he had attempted to think of what had happened before his arrival in the desert, the fierce pain and anguish he encountered forced him back. Behind it all, the force that held him back was fear; the fear that Eliscius was correct. As they approached the room where they had spoken a few days before, the apprehension swelled in Wist once more.
God damn! How could he speak to Eliscius if he thought he was capable of that? Wist used his indignation to force down his shame.
They stepped back into the graven stone room. Eliscius, Faric and Dregan sat there awaiting them as if they had been there for days. Eliscius smiled at them, indicating that they were to take the vacant seats.
‘Wist,’ Eliscius began, ‘Tyla and Aviti draw close. It is time to decide what our next move should be.’ Wist stared back at his old friend. Aviti. He hadn’t given her a thought in days.
‘Why would you want to hear anything I have to say?’ asked Wist. ‘You think I -’ his voice trailed off, unable to complete the thought.
Eliscius smiled at him. ‘I do not expect you to accept my words yet, perhaps you will in time. What is important now is that we are gathered here and, together, we must decide what we should do. Do you propose that we should ignore the peril that threatens the world or that we should rise and face this together?
‘I remember a boy who was only too eager to take the world on alone,’ Eliscius said fondly. ‘Perhaps, with a little help, you may be more successful?’
‘Perhaps, I’m not the same as you remember, Eliscius,’ said Wist
‘You waste your time with him,’ Dregan interjected, startling Wist. ‘I do not doubt your visions, Eliscius, but I question your interpretation of them. You draw conclusions that, from any other person, I would deem worthy of ridicule.’
‘Please, Dregan, humour an old man,’ said Eliscius. ‘I am well aware of your opinion and, although I value your advice, do not doubt what I have seen.’ Dregan held his gaze for a few moments and then dropped his eyes.
‘I believe -’ Nikka began, ‘I believe that we should go to Sordir.’ He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. ‘It may be that they have found a way to fight this evil that grips my people and yours. I find myself unable to abandon them to that fate.’
Eliscius nodded gently to Nikka. The conflict within Nikka was obvious to all of them. ‘You would not get far on your own anyway,’ said Nikka, his smile sitting awkwardly over his discomfort.
‘A good choice, Nikka,’ said Eliscius, ‘and as good a place as any to start.’ Eliscius turned next to Faric, ‘What path do you choose? Will you take these next steps beside us?’
‘We made our choice before we arrived,’ Faric’s mien remained implacable as he spoke for himself and Tyla. ‘Our die is cast alongside you - and Wist. We shall share your end, for there is no other for us now.’
‘And what about Aviti?’ asked Wist. ‘Do you presume to choose for her?’
Dregan raised a pointed eyebrow at Wist’s impertinence. ‘No, of course not,’ Eliscius replied patiently. ‘Each one of us here is free to choose our own course. I do not presume to speak for anyone else.’
‘And what of you, Wist? What shall you do?’ asked Eliscius.
‘What else can I do? Stay here until Tilden finds me?’ Wist felt far from free to choose.
‘You must decide if you wish to accompany us,’ said Eliscius. ‘It is essential that you understand this: I will not force or coerce you in anyway.’
Wist could see a way out. If he could prove that Eliscius’ assertions about him were wrong then he could move on from this mess.
‘Yes, I will go,’ agreed Wist, ‘but I will speak to Aviti before we leave.’ Eliscius exhaled deeply.
‘I'm going to prove you wrong,’ said Wist. Dregan snorted at his bravado, but Eliscius smiled once more.
‘I hope that you do,’ said Eliscius, ’I hope that you do.’
As Eliscius concluded, Faric howled. It was a gut wrenching, primal sound that tore at Wist’s exposed nerves. His shock at the scream was compounded by the source. He had never guessed that Faric was capable of such passion. He watched as the violent exclamation ceased and the Lyrat dropped to the floor.
Released from his stasis, Wist leapt the two short steps to Faric’s side, but he could not rouse him. ‘What’s happened to him?’ Wist yelled. Faric had been so implacably dependable, so immovable. Wist simply couldn’t lose him.
‘The Lyrat
pair,’ said Dregan, rising to his feet.
‘Go to the mountainside,’ said Eliscius. ‘They cannot be far. Take Nikka and see what you can determine.’
Eliscius moved beside Wist, his hands passing quickly and precisely over Faric’s prone form.
‘He lives, but I fear he is in shock. Move him to his room and lay him upon the bed.’ Eliscius had sloughed off the years and the leader from a lifetime ago emerged.
Wist hauled Faric’s unresisting form to his bed. He stood back and watched while Eliscius tended to him. It reminded Wist of Tyla’s ministrations on Aviti after the attack of the Waren. He waited for Eliscius to conclude his work in silence.
After a moment, Eliscius sat on the bed beside Faric, resting one of his withered hands on the unconscious Lyrat.
‘Will he – will he recover?’ asked Wist.
‘There is no physical harm to his body that I can find. The only conclusion I can come to is that he is in shock, the source of which I can only guess is his bond to Tyla, as Dregan has presumed.’
Inside Wist, his passivity splintered: obliterated by the threat to Aviti. If Tyla had fallen then Aviti – Aviti was lost without Tyla’s protection. As he turned to leave and find Nikka and Dregan, to race to Aviti and damn the cost, Faric’s eyes flickered.
Then they opened fully, staring straight ahead. He sat up and looked from Eliscius to Wist and then back once more.
‘I cannot sense him, he is –,’ Faric struggled to grasp the words he needed, ‘- gone.’ Grief and loss enveloped Faric. The normal flat expressionless mien of the Lyrat was contorted, tortured and broken. So distorted was the face that looked back at Wist that, if he hadn’t carried the Lyrat to the bed himself, Wist would never had known who it was.
The Redemption of Wist Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3: The complete collection Page 18