Dream of Legends fie-2

by Stephen Zimmer

  “Let us resume our work here, Aethelstan,” he said, with an edge of resolve, though his next words carried a trace of despair. “But is there not anything in this wide world that can ever work to our favor?”

  Aethelstan smiled gently. “In such times it seems there is nothing going in our favor. I can only believe that there are things that happen, far and wide, which we ourselves may never know of, that work to our aid in many enduring ways.”

  “I would like to believe that, but I cannot see it,” Edmund replied dourly.

  “And neither can I, but then again, we cannot see all things, can we, Edmund?” Aethelstan queried.

  He placed his hand again on Edmund’s shoulder, stepping past him before the other thane could feel a need to answer Aethelstan’s question. The question was intended to be more rhetorical in nature, something for Edmund to ponder as he wrestled with his turbulent emotions.

  Edmund hesitated for a moment, perhaps already thinking upon the words. Aethelstan looked back, and gave a gesture to his friend to follow him to the tents.

  The beleaguered sky warrior would need some food and rest, as all of his men undoubtedly would. There were physical needs to address. At least that could be achieved, even if his friend could not really hope to take his mind completely away from his inner torments.

  *

  JANUS

  *

  “Back on the water, where this all began,” Janus remarked to Erika.

  He leaned back closer to her, in order to gain a little privacy for their conversation. Janus was sitting just in front of her in the narrow watercraft, both of them with the haft of an oar held firmly in their hands as they made their own physical contributions to the travel.

  They had been journeying down river for at least a couple of hours. Most of the earlier portion of their travel had been endured in attentive silence, individuals left to their own thoughts as they paddled in a steady rhythm. A rapid pace was still being sustained, though after the initially robust outset Ayenwatha had eased everyone back just a little to preserve strength.

  A few conversations had finally broken out amongst the group, much to Janus’ relief, as the interactions offset the extended monotony of the excursion.

  At first, Erika returned a confused expression to Janus in response to his words. The look vanished after another moment of thought, as comprehension dawned within her eyes.

  “Almost forgot about all of that,” she replied in a low voice. “You were on a boat with Derek and Kent when the fog first came, weren’t you?”

  “Can’t say I really trust the water anymore,” Janus declared ruefully, as he nodded in reply, traces of a mirthless grin playing about his face.

  “And I suppose I don’t trust secluded university areas that are covered in grass, and surrounded by trees,” Erika retorted. She grinned, a fragment of lighthearted laughter escaping her. Dipping her oar blade back into the surface of the stream, she pulled back strongly.

  “But it seems we are on the water, and there are no universities close by,” she stated, as she looked back to Janus again. “So it would seem the burden is greater on you.”

  Her smile broadened, and her eyes sparkled like the very surface of the river that they were now coursing along. For no identifiable reason, Janus immediately felt self-conscious, and not a little embarrassed at the warm, radiant smile that she had given him. He had never felt entirely settled in the presence of a woman, especially a woman with the sheer magnetism and charisma that Erika possessed.

  The more that he was around her, the more he saw that she was truly a rarity among both women and men alike. She was not just imbued with a comely appearance, but also amply gifted in wit, humility, and a quiet strength. It all contributed to the strong presence that she exuded, which he admittedly found both intensely attractive, and not a little bit intimidating.

  “I know I probably sounded pretty stupid there,” he responded, with some hesitation.

  Erika smiled again. “Janus, given what we are all going through, the issue of trust towards anything is becoming pretty muddled these days. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Janus readily assented, as matters of trust struck at the core of everything that he had been struggling with. His voice took on a more somber tone as he replied to her.

  “Yes it is, as you say, certainly muddled. But I miss having at least some sense of bearings, even if they are just very convincing illusions at the end of the day,” Janus said. “I already have more than enough trouble trying to have faith in anything. But I need something to grasp onto everyday, even if it is a simple matter of believing that I will not suddenly find myself in another entire world. And I’m well aware now that even faith in that could fail me at any time.”

  “We all need a little stability to hold onto,” Erika responded, her tone taking a serious tilt. “Finding yourself in a new world is rattling, to say the least.”

  Once again, Janus felt the awkward sensation of having just said something rather ignorant in her presence.

  “Sorry, I made another obviously dumb comment,” he muttered contritely. “I know I’m not the only one shaken up here.”

  Raising his oar back up, he dipped it back into the water with a little more vigor, the burst of exertion born out of his inner frustrations.

  “Hey, it’s okay to say what you feel. You need to get it out. And it lets me know I’m not alone in what I’m thinking these days,” Erika said sympathetically, a smile warming her countenance.

  “You are very kind,” Janus said, just above a whisper, his eyes avoiding contact with hers.

  His gaze drifted over towards the tree-lined banks of the river, before lowering to stare at the currents that their canoe was cutting through. Everything seemed part of an immensely nightmarish dream, the genesis of which was the crushing blow of his father’s unexpected passing. His sheer foolishness in the company of a woman that he found wholly fascinating was just a sliver of the continued feeling of discordance that enveloped him.

  In so many ways he was adrift, far out of harmony, and clouded by a fog far denser than the one that had unveiled this new world to him. Looking forward, he quietly watched the pathway of the river as it wended through the thick, hilly forest bordering it. Its course was quite varied, continuing straight for lengthy stretches, turning in sharp bends at other points, or angling into elongated curves to either the left or right.

  Janus turned his head to look in the direction of the riverbank to the right, hearing a sudden splash of water. He saw the outward ripples marking the place where a large fish had broken the surface, and then plunged back down into the depths.

  The meandering of the river, and everything else about it, was not entirely unlike the course of his life. It was a thought that gave Janus pause.

  The water, the banks, the current, and the fish all formed the elements of the river that the canoe was traversing. There was a certain order to all of it, even if he had no idea as to what they might encounter around the next bend in the river.

  Such was life, in a way, traveling down its own natural course, on an unceasing flow that progressed from one moment to the next within its own host of elements. Like the travelers upon the canoes, life held a considerable degree of blindness towards both the immediate and distant future. Life held its own gradual shifts in course, as well as sharper ones, and some periods that appeared rather straightforward. Yet in all cases, time drifted onward like the canoe across the water.

  Janus knew that the river, and the life teeming within it, would continue onward long after he had passed through, just like the world would continue after his own life’s journey had reached its ultimate end. In life, Janus was a passenger on a great and foreboding river, carried forward in the vessel of a physical body.

  As helpless as some aspects of that perception might have seemed, neither could he ignore the unmistakable order to the river, which also echoed life’s journey. Underlying the act of passing down the river in a canoe was a strong sense of des
tination.

  The recognition of the presence of a destination was a small comfort to him, even if he could not so easily liken that aspect of their physical travel to his rumination upon life. It nonetheless brought to mind thoughts of greater powers, ones that might very well lay beyond the natural design that he observed all around him.

  Perhaps life had a destination as well. It was the challenge of handling the ambiguity that was the difficult part, as he could not say for certain that there was a destination, but neither could he honestly rule it out. There was just altogether too much that was deeply shrouded in mystery, and he knew that it would be entirely disingenuous, if not intellectually dishonest, to claim certainty of things that he did not have a full understanding or knowledge of.

  He just wished that he could still the anxieties, especially when the world seemed to be cloaked in ashen gray. The tribal people, such as Ayenwatha, appeared to be unshaken in the things that they held to heart, and not even the immense tragedies that had been visited upon them seemed to significantly rattle their bonds of belief in something greater.

  Janus both admired and envied their conviction, as it was something that he could not fathom within his own life. He realized that he had lost much of the ability to trust in even the simpler aspects of life, especially where they related to other individuals.

  It was a tremendous predicament to be in, as life was anything but a solitary experience. It was undeniable that a person entered and left the world alone, but those two moments were truly aberrations during the course of a lifetime. He lived in a world that left him no chance of persisting within it if he were entirely left to his own devices. The need for at least a small amount of trust in others was paramount, as, in truth, he needed others for the survival of more than just his body; he needed others so that his spirit could endure.

  “What are you thinking about?” Erika asked him, curiosity dancing in her eyes as she looked into his face.

  Janus did not shy away from her gaze, as he brought himself back out of his musings. “I suppose a lot of things… great and small. Sometimes you miss the obvious, but it’s better to figure something out late than never.”

  A slight grin broke onto his face, as he realized that at the very least he had just taken a small step. It remained to be seen whether or not he could take enough steps to come forth from the depths of shrouding darkness that had thickened around him over the past few months.

  Even so, the first step in any path back towards light was the recognition of the absence of it, as well as understanding the need for it. That much, at least, he had achieved.

  *

  LOGAN

  *

  Logan paddled in sullen disquiet, feeling like cursing the very day that he had been brought into the world. Everything seemed like a mammoth mudslide to him, a slow, continual descent into a murky abyss that was neither warranted nor preventable.

  Certainly, none of it involved a course that had been chosen by him, but then again, that was precisely what angered him the most. The sole missing factor in feeling like he truly had even a small degree of free will was the lack of power to make a different choice in the course that was taken.

  Throughout the lands he now found himself within, there were several thousands of displaced people, all suffering a heart-wrenching exodus from their homelands. At an even farther distance, there was a dark and ambiguous threat manifesting, as an enemy force encroached upon the tribal lands. Going even farther, there was an entire world that was not all too different from the decaying one that he had once lived in.

  There was simply no presence of justice, or even sanity, not when the simplest of observations was faced truthfully. The darker forces of the world held the truest advantages, in all of their forms. Their ends would always justify the means. No matter how brutal, no matter how deceitful, one who disregarded the constraints of virtues could act in any capacity to achieve a desired means.

  The forces attacking the villagers were undeniable proof of that reality. Such proofs were everywhere, Logan knew, if one was willing to open his or her eyes, and see what was there for all eyes to see.

  The lying merchant could smoothly gain the sale that the honest merchant could not attain. The deceptive craftsman could hide a blemish or weakness in structure, where the honest one could not. An errant laborer could twist his way out of failing a task, where the honest would willingly face consequences, with their full weight of penalty.

  An invading army, without the burden of virtues, could readily annihilate their enemy, destroying civilian and warrior alike. A truly honor-bound people would be above employing widely destructive and indiscriminate tactics, and in adhering to such ways could well suffer a comprehensive defeat in the long run.

  The list of examples was practically endless, demonstrating the enormous advantages that the amoral or immoral person held over the one who embraced a moral code. It was a drink most bitter to the tongue, and maddening to the mind.

  In the middle of a substantial river, within a sprawling forest, in the midst of a vast new world, Logan felt himself to be little more than a speck of foreign dust on the strange planet.

  He could see Erika and Janus talking together in one of the canoes just behind him. It was true that the two of them shared his unfamiliarity with the new world, as well as his familiarity with their world of origin. It was a very basic bond among the exiles, but it was one that Logan valued nonetheless.

  Janus was of the silent, more contemplative type, and Logan keenly sensed that the man was wrestling with a tremendous internal struggle. Erika was undeniably an attractive woman, with a real flare of life to her. Depending on the day, it was either an irritation or enjoyable, as she was not shy about saying whatever was on her mind.

  Logan was conscious of his genuine friendship with Antonio, and he was grateful that he had someone with him from his former world that he knew well.

  He was also aware of the fact that Ayenwatha and his tribal people were going to great lengths to care for the small band of outsiders. The tribal people were under a tremendous burden, and still they strove to protect and guide Logan and his companions.

  Yet ultimately, despite the various bonds, Logan felt quite powerless and alone. It was a weighty and forlorn emotion that threatened to douse the fires of his spirit, rendering him dead to the world. Even so, the same fires within him could not be so easily soaked, and he burned fiercely to find some possible way to seize a degree of control over the course of things.

  He chanced a glance back towards Ayenwatha. The tribal leader was focused on his paddling efforts, and paid Logan no heed. The noble warrior’s muscle and sinew worked in a flowing harmony, a striking example of symmetry and motion. Each instant, the tribal warrior looked like a skilled artist’s sculpture, as he worked the oar with a strong posture rife with rippling striations of musculature.

  Logan knew that Ayenwatha was one of the most respected and greatest warriors of his village and tribe. He was a living example of the highest values that the tribe embraced, a man disciplined in the ways of nature and of the spirit.

  Even so, Ayenwatha still had been set to desperate flight, along with all of his people.

  Logan turned his eyes back to the front. A determination gripped him, as he promised himself that one day he would find his way into a position where he could not easily be put to flight, or made helpless.

  One day, he would make his own determinations, and not be vulnerable to the reasonless, fickle whims of fate.

  *

  LEE

  *

  Gunther’s mood was severe, his face and hair caked with sweat as he bustled through the doorway into his woodland home. Lynn and Erin had watched him striding briskly towards the building, from a small window opening on the upper level. They had been alerted to his impending presence by a sudden restlessness among the Jaghuns.

  Hearing the comments of the two women as they saw Gunther emerge from the forest depths, Lee and Ryan had hurried down th
e stairs to await the woodsman’s entrance. Lee felt impatient and on edge as he waited for the door to open, and the information that he anxiously sought to be delivered.

  It was difficult enough for Gunther to move into the room, given that all of the Jaghuns crowded around and pressed their bodies together, close to the thick wood planks of the front door. Gunther barely responded to the greetings of the creatures, looking both distracted and pensive as he set his great bow down.

  Lee could tell at once that something was very wrong.

  Gunther looked towards Lee and Ryan, not even bothering to give them a greeting. He asked bluntly “Where are the other two?”

  Lee pointed upstairs.

  “The two of you up there, come down, now!” Gunther yelled upwards, before turning back towards the others.

  He waited tensely until the two young women had come down the steps to join them. “No luck is with us. None whatsoever. The Avanorans are coming in force straight towards this dwelling. Far too many to even think about a fight. It is certain that they will find this place, and I am not so naive as to think that they will respect a man’s dwelling. We must go!”

  “How far away are they?” Erin asked.

  Erin, like the others, presented anything but a calm facade. Wide-eyed panic was written all over her face as she looked to Gunther.

  Lee’s greatest anxieties were spawned by the deep worry etched across Gunther’s face. In the short time that he had known the stalwart woodsman, there were some clear traits that rose prominently to the surface.

  Gunther was not the sort of man to openly exhibit consternation, unless there was truly a very daunting reason. The entire patrol of the bestial warriors on the winged steeds had not rattled him in the slightest. He had been wholly unflappable in the aftermath of that conflict, except for the trauma at the loss of his Jaghun.

  Lee knew without a doubt that fear did not come lightly to the tall, brawny woodsman. That alone, more than anything else, gave Lee the most cause to be afraid himself as he saw the agitation in Gunther.