by K R Schultz
Now he had returned to his homeland, and he no longer cared what the gods thought of him. Shelhera’s ashes lay in a cold heap on the other side of the Syn Gersuul, and he suspected his son’s bones lay somewhere in the forest of Khel Braah. His sorrows left a void that nothing filled, and thoughts of revenge served as a poor substitute for his missing child and his dead wife. The lust for vengeance had drawn him back to Baradon, but his rage provided no comfort or peace.
The bustle of the deckhands, while they prepared to unload cargo and passengers, interrupted Aelfric’s reminiscences. Longshoremen filed up and down the gangplank, unburdened the vessel, and stacked bundles and crates on the wharf.
I must keep a cool head and find cover before the guardsmen recognize me. Given my size, remaining inconspicuous among these Abrhaani is a tall order. Aelfric smiled at the pun. The dim lantern light on the dock helps my cause, and the cloak and mantle conceal my identity.
Aelfric never asked and didn’t want to know where Kett found the distinctive light gray garments that passed for a Brotherhood uniform for Aelfric. He focused on a distant point ahead as if he were on a critical mission, avoided eye contact, and feigned disinterest. The guards noticed him before he had gone halfway down the dock. Both guards look just old enough to grow beards. Not much older than Laakea.
“Hold, stranger. What’s your name and business in Sethria,” the guard challenged.
I feel like a wolf with a mongrel pup yapping at me. “Relax, guardsmen. You can see by my clothes, I am a traveler of the Gray Brotherhood,” Aelfric lied. “I am on a pilgrimage to Harthang, where I will pay my respects to my family’s honored dead and give alms there.”
“Then why are you in Sethria?” the second guard asked. “Harthang is far inland. Why travel by boat to Sethria?”
“If you knew where I started, my method of transport and my route make perfect sense,” Aelfric added a touch of annoyance to his tone. He did not offer more information and mimicked the arrogance and secretiveness of a Gray Brotherhood pilgrim.
“Do you wish to detain me?” Aelfric asked, his lip curled in annoyance as he looked directly into their eyes. He stepped closer to the two guards and closed the gap between them. It was a near insult to approach another man without an invitation, let alone make eye contact. They would either yield or challenge him. Inexperience and stupidity can be a deadly combination for all of us, but this too may help me.
The risky gambit worked. The young guardsmen hesitated and broke eye contact while they considered a response to the unspoken challenge from this battle-scarred veteran. Aelfric noted their indecision and pressed his advantage. He thrust out his chest and raised his chin just enough to signal aggression but not enough for an outright threat. “I asked you a question, guardsman. Do you wish to detain me?”
Before they could answer, Kett and his porters arrived with their luggage. The guardsmen, grateful for the distraction and the ability to save face, motioned Aelfric away while they searched Kett, tore apart his baggage, and rifled through his belongings. Aelfric’s heartbeat slowed, and the tension ebbed as he turned and walked up the street toward the inn where Kett had arranged rooms for them. With the immediate crisis past, Aelfric peered down the dark garbage-strewn street ahead, feeling out of place in the land he called home. “I hope I haven’t made a mistake coming here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Wasteland Night
Shadows created by the firelight flickered and danced across the rocks behind them as Eideron, voice cracking, hoarse with exhaustion and dehydration, began the lesson. “Fatigue is no excuse for any of us, you must learn about Quickenings, and sooner is better than later. The concept of Quickenings is an important part of the Synod’s secret knowledge. We teach only those students of the highest moral character about Quickenings.”
“Is that why the Synod tests every young person, Master?” asked Aibhera.
“The tests reveal a candidate’s spiritual potential, but during their time of service to their appointed mentors, we gauge the apprentices’ moral standards. Apprentices may score high marks on the exams, but we have no reliable test for morals and ethics. The extended apprenticeship, where we guide our apprentices’ moral and ethical development, establishes character, and prepares them for the next phase of training.
“Since we are out of options and beyond the Synod’s control, its rules no longer bind us. What I am about to say is meant to give you confidence, not inflate your egos. You both scored higher than anyone in recorded history.” Eideron looked stern. “You will need confidence and courage for the tasks ahead. I hope my teaching helps you overcome the incredible challenges you will face alone.
Aibhera frowned at Eideron’s use of the word ‘alone’ and elbowed Simea, who shifted his position because of it. He raised his eyebrows and glanced at her, but Eideron continued his lecture without pausing. He shifted his attention back to his master.
“Once the apprentice’s master judges an individual has enough strength of character, the second phase of their education begins.”
“What’s that?” Aibhera asked.
“The second phase is the development of gifted students’ Quickenings. Quickenings pose hazards to the user and those around them. If its users have not mastered their egos, power can twist and corrupt those who wield it. Simea, you worked for me for two years, and it was already time to teach you about Quickenings. In your case, Aibhera, we bypass that first phase and skip straight to instruction on the Quickenings. I will take a calculated risk to teach you this.
“Through a Quickening, the Creator pours an extra measure of His power into an individual for a brief time. When the Creator Quickens us, we can become conduits or agents of His will.”
“Aibby and I understand,” said Simea, as somber as his mentor. “This is a special circumstance.”
Eideron nodded, his halo of silver hair gleamed golden in the firelight. “Quickening is the term we use to describe how the Creator endues us with extraordinary power when needed. The Sokai believe everything alive in Aarda exists because the Creator gave it life. His power also holds creation together and keeps it from disintegrating into nothingness.
“Each species has unique ways to receive and direct this power. Individuals within a species may display greater or lesser capabilities with any gifts. You showed the highest levels of potential ability, and you already have a high level of integrity and moral development. Perhaps you can tap skills our people lost millennia ago. That is my fervent hope.
“In recent times, Quickenings rarely manifest among our people. Although we teach the theory, very few have experienced the power of the Creator acting through them. In my opinion, it is because we no longer serve the other species as He intended.
“We are unfaithful to Him, for He designed us to be seers and prophets for Aarda’s other species. The Creator responds to needs. He does not answer selfish demands or display His power to flaunt it; He empowers people to do His will. I suspect your impressive abilities manifested now because the Creator prepares to intervene, and you have a role in His plan. He has created you with a purpose and a destiny.”
“What abilities might we expect, Master?” Aibhera asked.
“That is an excellent question. The dreams you experienced are prophetic Quickenings. Prophecy is the ability to view future events or distant activities. Sometimes prophecy is foreknowledge, knowing things in advance; at other times, it’s the ability to discern between truth and illusion.”
“Are there other abilities available to us?”
“Yes, Simea, the possibilities are limitless, since the Creator’s power is immeasurable. We have legends from the Battle of the Three Kings. In those legends, we Sokai protected people with walls of light, attacked the Nethera with javelins of blinding light, or Shifting, traveling incredible distances in an eyeblink.”
Simea’s brow wrinkled. “Then why must we stumble through this desert? Many Sokai perished during The March of the Ten Thousand. Why not j
ust Shift to Abalon?”
“Excellent questions. A partial answer lies in how much knowledge we have lost during our centuries of isolation. Let us not get bogged down in regret; instead, let me explain what we still know. Aarda is the part of the universe we experience, the Aether is another part, and both are only fragments of creation. Both the Aethera and the Nethera can move at will between Aarda and their planes, which exist at different energy levels than Aarda. Does this make sense to you?”
“Yes, my stepfather, Leoned, is an engineer. Leoned often talks about energy states,” Aibhera said. “He told me liquid water and steam are different states of water. But he says it takes energy to change water into steam.”
“Leoned has provided a perfect analogy. The natural state of water in Abalon is liquid. When we heat water, it gains energy and becomes steam, or it loses energy and becomes ice, water’s solid form. The natural state of humankind is what we experience now. The natural state of the Aethera and the Nethera is the Aetherial form. To interact with them, either we must gain energy to reach their level, or they must lose it to enter ours.”
“How can we gain energy and rise to the Aetheric level?” asked Simea.
“Without the Creator’s power, we cannot. He must pour energy into us, just like we must heat water to turn it into steam. Be aware we risk our physical bodies when we stay at that higher level. Sokai bodies cannot survive for long on the Aetherial plane. Think of it this way. If you had a piece of thread and a piece of rope and you tried to lift a rock with each of them, which one would break?”
“The thread, of course,” said Aibhera.
“That is correct. The Creator designed each of His creatures with different capabilities. Each one can cope with different energy or stress levels. Man cannot live for long on the Aetherial plane, nor are the Aethera designed to live at our level.”
“The rope can lift both light objects and heavy ones, but why not just use the rope for every task?” asked Simea.
“That is fine if you only intend to lift things. Imagine threading a needle with a rope or stitching your torn clothes with it,” Aibhera responded.
“Exactly,” said Eideron, pleased with the young woman’s quick mind. “Each of the Creator’s beings has a special purpose and role. Aetheric beings can discard energy to interact with the physical world. Once they shed energy, they cannot leave this world unless they replenish their power. Without gaining energy again, they cannot return to the Aether.”
“If they became trapped, would Aarda destroy them like the Aether would destroy us?”
“We presume so, but we are uncertain. It may take longer for the Aethera and Nethera to perish here than for us to die in the Aether. A body designed to exist at a higher energy level probably finds it easier to live at a lower energy state than the reverse. Remember the rope and thread analogy. The rope can lift lighter objects while the thread can’t lift heavier ones. Another analogy you may find useful is that of a log and a twig on the fire. The fire consumes twigs in moments while logs burn long.”
“So, the Aether is fire, and we are twigs,” said Aibhera.
“Almost, but not really. The Creator is the fire, and the Aether is a manifestation of His energy or power.”
“Is there an energy state below ours, or are we at the lowest level, like ice is the lowest form of water?” Simea asked.
“The Sokai always believed Aarda is alive. If that is true, that is the lowest level imaginable.”
“Master, tell us how to travel, Shift, the way you mentioned. I am tired of walking,” said Simea with a wry grin.
Aibhera elbowed him and shot him a fierce look.
Eideron croaked with laughter at the byplay. “That is just one of many things I hope you can manage.”
“You?” Aibhera’s eyes widened. “Do you mean we must do this alone?”
“I fear you are correct, my observant youngster. The attempt would kill me. I am too old.”
“Pardon me, Master, but walking will kill you.” Aibhera shifted to a more comfortable position on the rock beneath her. “I can see how this journey depletes your strength, although you hide it. Shifting must be easier.”
“Creator preserve us from sharp-eyed children,” Eideron slumped, sighed, and gave up his pretense of strength. “To answer your earlier question, Sokai can only Shift to a place we have seen, and not every Sokai has the ability. I never expected to return—”
Aibhera interrupted, “Return is not the issue, Master, the survival and success of this mission are.”
“We do as we must fulfill the will of Him who made us, dear girl. Our future is in His hands, not our own. Let us continue, shall we? Without the interruptions, if you please.”
“Yes, Master,” they both chorused, chastised by his gruff words.
“Let me cover the Quickenings common to the three species, but understand the list is not exhaustive. To recap, the Creator quickens the Sokai for prophecy, Shifting, and protection. Battlefury is an Eniila Quickening, as are justice and Voice of Command. He quickens the Abrhaani for healing, compassion, and mercy.
“Besides their spiritual abilities, the Eniila have prodigious physical power and regenerative capabilities, but without copious amounts of food, the Eniila grow weak. The Eniila have an affinity with fire and a talent for working and shaping metal, but they cannot read and have no written language. Unfortunately, they are also belligerent, short-tempered, and prone to violence.
“The Abrhaani understand agriculture, the arts, and herbal healing, and they can sense the emotional states of individuals. They have an affinity with plants and water. Sailing and agriculture, for example, are two of their strengths.”
“What is the downside for the Abrhaani?”
“The Abrhaani become sick in prolonged darkness, and despite their creativity, they lack concentration. They flit from one interest to the next without completing the tasks they start.
“The Sokai are builders and engineers and can master wind and earth. We see the Aetherial realm better than the others, and we can dispel the Dark Ones’ illusions. We have kept and protected more history and lore than the other two species because we fled the conflict and took much of Berossus’ library with us.”
“Do we have weaknesses too?” Simea asked.
“We do. The Sokai are prone to legalism and rigidity of thought. We seek and enjoy stability, routine, tradition, and comfort. We are often prisoners of those things because we refuse new methods and fresh ideas. We obsess over details at the expense of compassion and mercy. The other species say the Sokai cannot see the mountain for the pebbles.”
“That explains a great deal, doesn’t it, Sim?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Shifting
Eideron continued his teaching. “When we abandoned Berossus, our city in eastern Baradon, and traversed the eastern wasteland in search of a refuge from the fighting, we took much of our knowledge with us. Education was paramount in our culture. However, the Abrhaani and the Eniila have descended into barbarism because of their constant warfare.
“There is one artifact of enormous value that we no longer possess, a book called The Chronicles of Aarda, also called The Aetheriad. We lost it long before the Thousand Years War. An Aethera named Naom’han wrote it. The Aetheriad might contain knowledge useful to help stem the dark tide, but enough about the book, since we do not have it.
“There is a myth of a faithful remnant of Eniila who follow the Creator. The story, an unsubstantiated legend, alleges that our ancestors entrusted them with the book since they believed the Eniila warriors could best protect the precious volume. After so many years, the Eniila may have lost the book, or they may have used it for kindling. The Eniila cannot read and might not have valued The Aetheriad enough to preserve it. I doubt our forebears expected millennia to elapse before someone looked for it.
“Tomorrow night, I will teach you what I know about Shifting, instantaneous travel between two points. Of all the Quickenings, this one shoul
d be most useful to us. You must prepare and concentrate. We are too exhausted and hungry to walk farther today. I have shared enough for a first lesson and laid a foundation for what must follow.”
After a meager ration of water and a scanty meal, they rolled themselves in their bedrolls. Aibhera soon fell asleep. Simea remembered what Eideron had said about Shifting and memorized his reference points for Shifting tomorrow. Simea placed a medallion, a birthday gift from his mother, in a crack in the rock. He felt it might help find his location better than the landscape alone. When he was satisfied, he joined Aibhera in sleep.
Simea roused and shifted position when Eideron fed the fire before dawn and thought he heard the rustling of parchment before he faded back to a night of restless sleep.
At dawn, Aibhera awoke to the sound of her teeth chattering. “How can it be so blasted cold,” she muttered. “We broiled all day, and now I am frozen half to death.”
“The March of the Ten Thousand says scorching days and icy nights are common here.” Eideron’s muffled voice issued from beneath his blankets, only the top of his head protruded from under the bedroll. “It’s part of the wasteland’s charm, I’m afraid.”
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I was awake. It’s too cold to sleep,” Eideron said. “We should get started; the activity will warm us.” Eideron stood and wrapped his blankets around his shoulders while he coaxed the campfire back to life.
Aibhera shook Simea awake.
By the time they finished a sparse meal of dried fruit and bread and repacked their gear, the sun painted the wasteland in golden light. Long black shadows lay in the hollows and crevices to the east where Abalon’s black volcanic cone rose high above the plain.
“Which way are we headed?” Simea asked.
“The ancient records say our people took several routes to Abalon. Most survivors came from that direction.” Eideron pointed directly away from the sun’s bright disk hanging above the horizon. “I hope the sunrise bodes well for our success.”