“To be honest,” Igallik said, “I don’t know what the pain could be caused by. Fortunately, we do have the luxury of three years to find out. I promise you, Galian, I will do my best to uncover the source of this anguish.”
“Thank you,” Galian said. “But I must insist on one thing.”
“As you please.”
“Odin is not to know of this. I have put him through enough.”
“If that is your will,” the head monk said, “then it shall remain between us.”
“It is my will,” Galian said.
“I will comply,” Igallik agreed. “But I must warn you, secrets have sharp edges. One such as this will likely cut both of you.”
“I am aware,” Galian signed.
“Very well,” Igallik said. “Is there anything else?”
Galian shook his head.
“Then you should go tend to your brother,” the head monk said. “Descent hurt him just as badly as it hurt you.”
“Did he suffer?” Galian asked.
“Very much so,” Igallik replied.
Galian swallowed a heft of guilt. “On my way,” he signed.
The moon was still high as Galian bobbed to his quarters. From a distance, he could see Odin waiting at the door. As Galian approached and reached a grinning Odin, the quiet monk threw his arm around Odin’s shoulder.
“I missed you,” he signed. “I’m not sure you know how much.”
“I think I can imagine.”
“Perhaps,” Galian said. “Come, we must talk.”
Odin nodded and then followed Galian inside. As they sat, Galian first gave Odin an appreciative nod.
“Thank you for your decision with Palis. He saved my life.”
“Do you know what happened to him?” Odin asked.
“No,” Galian said. “I saw him for only a moment. It is likely that Forneus found him.”
“Did you see Forneus?” Odin asked.
“No, but I felt him.”
Odin’s eyes looked intently at his brother, expecting a description, but Galian was eerily still.
“Well?” Odin finally prodded.
Galian fidgeted for a moment, his fingers tapping anxiously against his leg.
“He is the most evil adversary I can imagine,” he said finally. “I searched for his presence. I regret that I found it. His aura is so cold it paralyzed my mind. But in the paralysis, Forneus overwhelmed my consciousness. His thoughts became my thoughts.”
To see the fear in Galian’s eye made Odin shudder.
“It took all of my strength to get away,” Galian said. “But the scary thing is, I wasn’t even in his sights. If he had committed his full focus onto me, I would not be here.”
Odin was reminded of why Palis agreed to take the staff back to the afterlife.
“Knowing what you know now,” he said, “do you think we can reclaim the afterlife? Do you think that we and the Forge are capable?”
“There are a lot of factors to consider,” Galian answered.
Odin looked flatly at his brother.
“Is that your real answer?”
Galian exhaled deeply, and then met Odin’s stare with complete seriousness.
“The truth is, we must. That realm is Hell. But you must understand that Hell is not a place, it is a condition. It is a pressure so cruel that good men surrender their morality. The state and power of Hell is fear. People will forfeit many virtues when they are afraid. They surrender to fear, and worse, they become its partner. The victims become the assailants. The afterlife is a raging river of fear, Odin. And even the strongest souls choose to ride the current. It is horrid, but it is survival.”
“So what do we do?” Odin asked. “What can we do?”
“We train,” Galian answered. “We honour our parents, we honour this monastery. We have eight years until we meet our destiny – eight years until we face Forneus. Every day that separates us from that destiny cannot be wasted. Tomorrow, we begin. No excuses.”
Odin knew the seriousness in his brother’s eyes.
“I am with you,” he vowed.
“Alright,” Galian signed. “First, we must take a trip outside the monastery walls.”
“To where?” Odin asked.
“Northton,” Galian replied. “We have an appointment.”
“Should I bring weapons?” Odin asked.
“No,” Galian said. “It is just a small meeting.”
“Easy enough,” Odin said.
Galian eyes lowered – it was clear that he knew something different.
“Take the rest of night to rest,” he encouraged. “But tomorrow, at daybreak, we set out.”
Odin slumped a little – he had waited two months for his brother to come back and now he was being told to leave.
Galian read Odin’s heart as if it were written on a page.
“We will talk tomorrow,” Galian signed. “I need you to be rested. I promise, we will have time tomorrow.”
Odin swallowed his hurt. “As you wish.”
As he exited, he stopped at the door, resting his hand against the doorframe.
“It’s good to have you back,” he said. “I missed you.”
“I know,” Galian replied.
Galian angled his head as he studied his brother.
“I’m sorry about Usis,” he said.
“It’s fine,” Odin lied. “He only proved that he wasn’t our brother.”
“You will see him again,” Galian promised. “Be prepared for that.”
“We’ll get prepared tomorrow,” Odin decided. “Tonight, I may choose to sulk.”
Galian nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”
After tapping the wooden doorframe, Odin forced a weak smile and then left Galian alone.
Galian would stay awake all night.
He now knew the challenge ahead and vowed – at any cost – to secure a victory for the Lyran House. Forneus was greatly powerful. The Serpent Messiah had become a deity of evil. When the sun rose the next day, Galian and Odin would partner in the daunting task of deicide. Forneus – the Serpent God – needed to die.
However, having seen the future, only Galian knew the price of such a destiny.
28
The next morning, Odin woke at daybreak. It was only minutes before he was out of his room, and as he emerged into the courtyard in his full black attire, he was met by Galian lounging on the half wall next to his quarters. Galian was wearing his customary brown robe.
“Morning,” Galian said.
Odin craned his neck towards the clear skies. “A good one,” he replied.
Odin’s eyes shifted back down, and he examined the red leather bag that was hanging from Galian’s hand.
“What’s with the bag?” he asked.
“Supplies,” Galian said.
“Food?”
“No. Nature will feed us. These are just a few things we need.”
Odin nodded. “Shall we set out?”
“We shall,” Galian said.
With that, Galian rose, and the sons of Animus Letum began what would be a two day trek.
While they walked, no topic was off limits. They strolled down a rock path surrounded by two sides of mighty forest, talking about Usis, the Forge, and nearly every other factor that was related to their destiny. They even explored the lengths of Galian’s new power.
“Heads or tails?” Odin asked.
“Tails,” Galian signed.
Odin flipped his coin, and after it had landed back into his palm, he slapped it on to the backside of his hand.
The result was as expected.
“Tails it is,” Odin said. “That’s eighty-five in a row.”
Galian smiled. “I could go all day.”
“And do you?” Odin asked, testing his brother’s new power.
Galian smiled again. “Watch this.”
The quiet monk dropped to a knee, picked up a large stone from the pathway, and then pulled a dagger from the leather bag that he was carrying. As he
inhaled and closed his eyes, Galian shifted the rock in his palm, weighing it as if his hand were a scale. After confirming its weight, Galian underhanded the rock into the bush, and just before the stone crashed down, he lobbed his dagger up into a perfect arc. With a thwack, the stone hit a branch, and as the sound echoed back to the roadway, a small hare bounded out of the shrubs. As the hare leapt across the stone path, the perfectly timed dagger arced down and plummeted blade first into the hare’s back.
Odin’s eyes were wide with marvel. “That was impossible.”
“Obviously not,” Galian smirked.
“So what did you see?” Odin asked. “I mean, which part of that event did you know would happen?”
“All of it.”
“So you don’t even choose what you do?” Odin said. “You follow a script?”
“I have a choice,” Galian said. “My choice was to throw the rock or not.”
“And what if you didn’t?”
“Our entire lives would change,” Galian replied.
Odin eyed his brother for a moment. “Our entire lives?” he repeated. With a laugh, Odin waved off the notion. “There’s no way,” he said. “It was an insignificant moment.”
“Perhaps,” Galian said. “But without it, we would not have had this conversation. Or the next. Or the next. It doesn’t change where we are going, just how we get there.”
“So it changed our timing?” Odin asked.
“Forever,” Galian said.
Odin’s head tilted.
“Do you like this power?” he asked. “It seems like a lot.”
“It is a lot to manage,” Galian said. “But it does give us an advantage.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Odin said.
The quiet monk exhaled with a shake of his head. “The future hurts,” he signed. “My burden is that I feel it already.”
Before Odin could reply, Galian pointed to the hare.
“Can you grab that?” he asked. “That’s our dinner.”
Odin took the cue. “How long until we camp?” he asked as he retrieved the impaled rabbit.
“Not long,” Galian said. “Our site is only a few hours away.”
As Galian held out his bag, Odin dropped the hare into it and patted his brother’s shoulder.
“I know I’ll never understand your power,” he said. “But if you ever need a crutch, you should know that I can bear the weight.”
“I know,” Galian said, “even more than you.”
A few hours later, Galian and Odin were seated around a campfire. The sky was clear, and under the blanket of stars, Odin was cooking the hare.
“I think she’s almost ready,” Odin said, as he rotated a makeshift spit.
Galian made a half-interested nod as he used his power to form different shapes out of the fire’s floating embers. The quiet monk had been reserved for hours, giving only small nods for affirmation.
“Is there something wrong?” Odin asked.
“Not yet,” Galian replied.
“Not yet?” Odin said. “What’s going on with you?”
Galian used his power to extinguish all of the embers.
“Do you ever think about Cole?” he asked.
“About how I killed him?” Odin said.
“Yes.”
“I don’t regret it if that’s what you mean.”
“I know you don’t.” Galian said. “But do you wonder if you halted his destiny: if by killing him, you took more than his life – you took his future.”
Odin shrugged. “You tell me,” he said. “The future seems to be your specialty.”
“I didn’t agree with your killing Cole,” Galian admitted. “It bothered me for many years.”
“You’re speaking in the past tense,” Odin remarked.
“I am,” Galian agreed. “After being in Animus Letum, I see death in a different way. Something in me has changed.”
“For the better?” Odin asked.
“Time will tell,” Galian replied.
The quiet monk began to play with the embers again.
“Tomorrow will be difficult for you,” he said, “but I need you to trust me.”
“You know I do,” Odin said.
Galian smiled weakly. “One day you might not want to.”
With a shake of his head, Galian let himself fall flat against the earth.
“I’ll wake you in the morning,” he signed.
Odin stopped turning the spit, puzzled by Galian’s resignation.
“You’re not going to eat?” he asked.
Galian shrugged. “Not hungry.”
Exhaling, the quiet monk turned his back to the fire and balled up inside his brown robe.
Odin rotated the spit a few more times, watching his brother as a mass of anxiety grew in his gut.
“What do you see?” he whispered to himself.
As promised, Galian woke Odin at daybreak. Galian had already gathered some berries from the surrounding forest, and as Odin sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes, Galian presented him with breakfast.
“Eat up,” Galian said. “We need your muscle today.”
Odin nodded his head lazily. “I thought you said it was just a small meeting.”
“I did,” Galian said. “And it is.”
Odin took a handful of berries and stuffed them into his mouth, filling both of his cheeks until they swelled out of the sides of his face.
“I need a minute,” he mumbled.
“You have five,” Galian replied.
Five minutes later, the sons of Animus Letum were on the road again.
Odin was still trying to capture his wakefulness, and as he laboured forward, he stared down the long road with weighted eyelids.
“How far to Northton?” he asked.
“We are fairly close,” Galian said. “We will be there before noon.”
“Will it matter if we’re late?”
“Yes. But we won’t be.”
“Are you sure about that?” Odin taunted. “What if I change our timing? What if I fall right here and go back to sleep.”
“You don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Fall asleep.”
“Just watch me,” Odin said.
With a mocking yawn, Odin knelt down and then laid on the stone path.
“You see,” he said as he reclined awkwardly over the road. “You were wrong. I just changed our timing.”
“I didn’t say you wouldn’t lie down,” Galian replied. “I said you wouldn’t fall asleep.”
With a quick jerk of his hand, Galian used his power to start dragging Odin across the stones.
As Odin slid sideways across the pathway, he tried stubbornly to ignore the rocks sticking to and scraping his back, but after a half minute, the young Lyran leapt back to his feet.
“Fine,” he said as he picked stones from his clothes. “I’ll stay up.”
“I thought you might.”
With a smile, Odin shoved his brother off balance.
“Your vision is a strength,” he said, “but I believe your body is still a weakness.”
“Don’t do it,” Galian said.
Odin started to dance in front of his brother, throwing jabs into the air.
“Oh,” he taunted, “you’ve seen what I am about to do?”
“I recommend against it,” Galian signed.
“I bet you do.”
With a quick release, Odin jabbed at Galian’s shoulder.
Gracefully, Galian weaved back, and the punch sailed harmlessly past him.
Odin’s eyes lit up. The challenge was on.
In quick combination, Odin threw a flurry of fists and feet at his brother, but with the very same grace, Galian ducked and weaved away from each of them. It was like trying to punch the wind.
As Odin’s hands fell back to his sides, he offered his surrender.
“Fine,” he said dejectedly. “You win.”
“Not yet,” Galian replied.
With a
confident smile, the quiet monk closed his eyes and nodded. Instantly, twenty stones lifted off the roadway, careened inwards and pelted Odin’s hunched up body.
“Alright, alright,” Odin cried. “I’ll shut up and walk.”
“Wise choice,” Galian said.
It was just before noon when the twins arrived in Northton. The township was an older one, and the bulk of its center was entirely surrounded by steep hills of dense forest. The town’s stone structures were built on the low ground, nestled in the center of the rising wall of trees. The layout made Northton appear like it had been built at the bottom of a crater – albeit a very green one.
The sun fell upon Northton magnificently. Because of the surrounding wall of forest, a shadow was almost always painted over the town, and as the accents of light and dark swept over the town structures, Northton appeared as if had a restless soul – it was in a constant motion of light and shadow.
From atop the wall of forest, Galian and Odin watched the town for a long while.
“Better than looking at a log wall,” Odin said.
Galian nodded. “Without question.”
The two continued to take in the view, choosing to leave a long silence between them.
“Do you see our destination?” Odin said finally.
“I do.”
“Is the timing right?” Odin asked.
“Almost,” Galian replied. “You see that farmer?” he asked as he pointed down into the township.
Odin peered over the grids of green farmland. “On the left?”
“Yes. As soon as he goes inside the barn, we will walk down.”
“Alright,” Odin agreed.
Galian tapped his hand gingerly against Odin’s shoulder and then pointed a few times at the path in front of them.
“Pretty steep,” he said.
“I’d say,” Odin agreed.
Galian offered a sheepish smile. “You mind giving me a lift?”
Odin laughed. “Do you already know if I do?”
“Yes.”
“Then what’s the point of asking.”
“Manners,” Galian replied. “If you prefer, next time I will just jump on your back.”
Odin shook his head and dropped to a knee.
“Climb up,” he said.
After Galian hobbled next to his brother, he climbed clumsily onto Odin’s back.
“Is the farmer gone?” Odin asked as he rose to full posture.
Galian pointed in affirmation.
The Sons of Animus Letum Page 28