Viktor

by Francesco Leo

  He approached the front door and put an ear on it.

  “What am I doing? I’ll see her this afternoon ... she’s probably still resting.”

  The Silver River, which rose from the slopes of Jerrall, flowed slowly and calmly towards the large bridge beyond the village, where it plunged into a waterfall, towards a new path created by furrows in the ground and from there to the great Crystal Sea.

  Viktor stooped down to touch the surface of the water. His image, reflected and accompanied by the dying scythe of the moon, appeared as an inappropriate stain on the creation of nature.

  He contemplated the liquid mirror again for a few seconds before returning home.

  The warmth of the candle on the table at the entrance soon dissipated that fresh morning air that Viktor had learned to live with and the young man fell on his bed.

  He moved in search of a more comfortable position, but something seemed to be making a noise different from the usual creaking of wooden planks.

  Only then did he remember that hours earlier he had moved Xemnath’s Diary from the drawer to place it under his bed, where he believed it to be safer. He decided to leaf through other pages, looking for something useful, so he started reading from one of the passages that caught his eye.

  “[...] The training of the desert hermit seemed almost a lenient for my heartbroken and empty soul.

  The attack of the Daedalus had taken my parents away like a tornado takes lives with it to destroy them and the houses around. That was another time when I felt inappropriate doing what I was experiencing.

  On the other hand, I’d already been through this in the beginning, and just like then I remembered Master Galaeth’s wise, true words.

  “Beautiful things help us appreciate life. The ugly ones to protect it, so that the good times can still live in the heart of those who can get up and continue to fight.”

  It was like this.

  That time I was still too young, and it was hard for me to understand and give due weight to those words. That’s why I ask you to trust Galaeth, whatever he tells you.

  There is only one thing that I think he will avoid telling you - as he did with me - but, when that day arrives, don’t let disappointment get in your way. Whatever he hides, he will do it to protect you.

  I discovered the truth when it was too late, but I trust you will succeed where I haven’t.

  I hope you finish this inexhaustible cycle of lives.”

  There were various terms that aroused curiosity in Viktor’s mind, such as “Daedalus,” “desert hermit” and arcane phrases.

  The diary was written in such a way that only the chosen one, with a good measure of thoughts, could achieve a greater understanding of what was written, but the fact that the name of Galaeth was mentioned in that eight hundred year old diary confused him.

  Galaeth looked human, as he remembered, and if Xemnath had really talked about the same person, how old was his Master?

  At that point, he didn’t know what to think.

  Moreover, he referred to something that Galaeth hid from him, as he had done with Xemnath. What, however, he could not imagine.

  There were too many unanswered questions and this made him feel lost.

  THE CALL OF DESTINY

  V iktor had chosen an old clearing behind his farm to bring everyone together, away from prying eyes and ears.

  First, Gabriel and Selene stood before the young man waiting for Trust to arrive.

  The sound of the trampled grass drowned out the noise of the stalks rubbing together because of the wind and Viktor cleared his throat.

  Trust came when everyone seemed to have fallen prey to their own thoughts and concerns.

  When he had everyone’s attention, the chosen one moistened his lips and wiped a hand under the grey shirt he was wearing, brushing his fingers against the slight protuberance that concealed the talisman of Artemisia.

  “I said I would tell you how things went, so here we are,” Viktor said. “As you well know, when I was sick, before leaving for the Great Talents, I spent time at Selene’s house. During my stay there, I came across a book narrating an old story that, before arriving in Beleth, I believed was for children. It is called “The Star of the Prophecy.” Gabriel and Selene know what it is about, but I wondered if you knew too,” he said to Trust and his father.

  “It’s a very old story. Are you saying it’s true? Have you brought us together here just to say that those stupid things invented to make children fall asleep are real?” First snapped.

  “First, it’s hard to believe such a thing, but we were there. Selene and I have seen what happened that night: fire darts were raining on a city of which there is little left and monsters that should have been extinct are back thanks to dark spells. I don’t say that this is the most probable hypothesis, but it is not to be excluded a priori.”

  Trust’s words dumbfounded First, who stared at the turf at his feet with his right hand trembling. He could not believe what his son was saying, but he didn’t want to acknowledge that he was speaking nonsense either.

  Viktor continued: “The two people who took me away are called Amir and Kanda ... they are members of a secret organization that recognizes every comrade as a member of the Star. The Members of the Star are a group of people who deal with different kinds of threats that may harm the planet and, more than anything else, they are responsible for instructing the chosen one of the Star, the one who will have to wield Arald, a legendary sword with which Zergh can be driven back into darkness.”

  “Zergh ...” Trust repeated softly.

  “Do you know anything about him?” Viktor frowned.

  “I know this story well. They often told it to me too, but as far as I know, Zergh is not the real name of the deity of darkness ... they say that the name belonged only to the individual whose body he took over, a body now consumed by evil and a prisoner of eternity.”

  “Even I thought I heard something similar about it. Whatever his name, since it remains unknown, we must continue to identify him with the name Zergh,” Selene said.

  “Trust, I cannot believe you’re giving support to the boy. All this can’t be real!” First shouted to his friend.

  “Are you saying your son is crazy? Are you saying that Selene, Gabriel and I are crazy after having travelled to the Elders? Think about it, First. Would the Elders, the keepers of the knowledge of all Mirthya, have given hearing, board and lodge to any two youngsters if what they suspected wasn’t true? They know about what’s happening too. Like it or not, you will have to accept the brutal truth,” Trust stood up for them.

  First hesitated before continuing, his panting making his chest move frantically. “And what do these famous Members of the Star have to do with you?” he asked Viktor, staring at him with wide, unbelieving eyes.

  “I’m the chosen one that the Star has to train. That’s why I was there.”

  First was stunned, Trust raised his eyebrows and the youngsters breathed heavily. It was as if the news had astounded them for a moment.

  Viktor told about what had happened at the Den of the Star and about meeting the other two at the monastery of the Elders. Then it was Gabriel and Selene’s turn, who explained what had happened on the mountaintop of Jerral, before Viktor’s arrival.

  Of the entire event, Viktor preferred not to speak of the diary, but he showed the others the pendant of Artemisia that the Elders had entrusted him with: it was proof that he didn’t lie.

  Now what will you do?” First asked his son, in a low, arrogant voice.

  Viktor caught a veiled sadness in his father’s voice and eyes. “I cannot go back to the Den, the dark forces of Zergh are waking and I will have to continue my training elsewhere, they’d find me easily there. I have been told to go to the village of Placym… I’ll find a member of the Star waiting for me there.”

  “How long will you remain in Lezhen?”

  “The time required for my training, I think, at the most, three days,” the boy answered
.

  First protested silently, railing against such a bitter fate.

  When Viktor said he had finished, he was the first to disappear in the late afternoon light.

  ******

  Trust closed the forge door behind him and approached the workbench, determined to satisfy orders from a restless and impatient clientele. His concentration, however, was not as decisive as he was.

  That night he chose to go out for a walk in the company of the light of the stars and his thoughts.

  He had known First for a lifetime and Viktor since Elena, the young woman’s mother, was still alive.

  As he grew up, he realized how he liked to fantasize, until the day Elena passed away.

  For First it was hard to raise two children alone.

  He reacted with great fortitude, but while the youngest succeeded to fit in first, it was a harder trauma for Viktor. It was Selene’s arrival at the village that helped him.

  The girl had lost her mother when she was born, and for this reason, her father decided to take her to Lezhen, a quiet village where the girl could familiarize with the local villagers.

  The old blacksmith sighed, looking at the river. A small group of solitary clouds obscured the stars and cut the moon in half.

  Then, the clouds backed off, and the clear night came back to claim the title of undisputed mistress of those lands.

  A WELL-KNOWN PATH

  T he rising sun radiated the meadows of Lezhen, sprinkled with dew. Some early morning butterflies danced on the vast bed of strong, young stems.

  A slight gust of wind swung the wooden sign of the new village inn.

  The sign creaked a couple of times, then stopped. While a small turquoise coloured bird glided over the kerb of the inn.

  Suddenly there was a slight chatter coming from the inside. Selene was sitting at one of the oak tables and tapping her index finger in a slow, undecided manner.

  The departure with Viktor frightened her, but she was annoyed that he treated her like a child to be protected. She wouldn’t allow her friend to go the middle of nowhere to face any kind of danger alone.

  “Tara, I need a favour,” she approached the counter.

  The innkeeper exploded in euphoric screams. “I didn’t know you were back! I thought you were travelling with that boy ... Gabriel ... “

  “Well ... I was with him, but I’m back.”

  “An unsuccessful elopement?” the woman joked.

  “Tara, Gabriel is four years younger than me!”

  “Love has no age, darling… especially when it’s only a number that makes the difference and, let’s face it, such a small number!”

  Selene was silent, then she changed the subject.

  “I’m not here for this ... I need a favour.”

  “That is?” asked the innkeeper.

  “Nothing in particular. I’m leaving for another trip and I don’t know how long I’ll be away. I wondered if you could keep the house keys until I return.”

  “Such a strange request on your part.”

  “Why on earth?”

  “You have a few more intimate people you could have asked!”

  “They already have enough trouble and I trust you ...”

  “All right, then ... but, just out of curiosity, where will you go this time? You’re getting wet and wild, aren’t you?”

  “I have commissions to attend ... no pleasure trip!” Selene answered smiling at the lady’s curiosity and holding out her keys.

  “See you soon, then. I hope to see you hereabouts soon!”

  “I hope so too!” Selene answered going out.

  She was at the entrance when she heard two men speaking at a nearby table and, as it piqued her curiosity, she stopped and sat behind them.

  “There have been rumours about these things for days. Creatures of the Mountains march towards civilization and are anything but peaceful ...,” revealed one of the two.

  “I swear that a short time ago I heard the story of a farmer in the East deprived of his herd of sheep… they say that the goblins have already descended to the valley and are moving in packs. If it’s true we must be careful,” the other replied.

  “Dark times, my friend ... dark times!”

  Selene slowly got up from her seat and left the inn.

  She headed for Viktor’s house.

  She immediately recognized First followed by Gabriel, heading to the fields to work; she called out to them in a loud voice.

  When she reached them, they smiled at her.

  “If you want to rest you can use Gabriel’s room, I changed the sheets and…”

  Selene remembered the invitation the night before. She would have spent the two days before the departure at the farmer’s house. It had been his choice. “Perhaps he wants as much company as possible, in these last few days…”

  “Thank you,” she interrupted, in order to avoid First from saying things that ill suited him. Those were words for guests, but she didn’t think of herself as a guest anymore. “I think I’ll rest a while… And Viktor?” she asked immediately after.

  “Oh, he’s sleeping like a log. Last night he didn’t rest very much. Yes he got up early to go to Trust, but he was still sleepy,” he explained.

  “I don’t think you’ll live long if you wake him up,” Gabriel said ironically.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him!” she smiled, then she entered the house, trying not to make a noise. She put her bag on the kitchen chair and headed for Gabriel’s bedroom.

  Only then did she notice the door of Viktor’s room ajar. She approached and peered for a moment inside, watching him as he slept profusely.

  When she was about to leave, a dark notebook struck her from under the mattress. Intrigued, she slipped into the shadows.

  She arrived to the side of the bed and carefully pulled the object out and began leafing through the first pages: it was a diary.

  ******

  The sun was high in the sky when Viktor awoke and he slowly got up leaning on his arms.

  He got washed and dressed and then went out into the hall.

  Judging from the silence, no one had returned from the fields. He thought about having a quick breakfast but, just as he was about to sit down, he recognized Selene’s brown bag and immediately went to look for her.

  When he saw her sleeping in Gabriel’s room, he was surprised, but didn’t ask himself many questions.

  He returned to his breakfast, went outside and headed for an old cartographer’s shop - Maluak - on the edge of the village.

  He arrived in front of the stucco and sandstone house, and then he knocked on the door. As soon as he touched it, it opened.

  “Anybody in?”

  No reply.

  In the entrance, Viktor saw piles of books, scrolls and various writings scattered on the floor, mostly at the foot of the large bookcase stacked against the wall, a wall full of miniatures and maps from everywhere.

  He could hear noises of boxes and paperwork in the entrance immersed in darkness.

  “Who’s there?” a shrill voice asked. A small, thin figure emerged through a small door, carrying some scrolls in his arms. “Ah, the young farmer!” he greeted, spilling his papers on a dusty desk. His glasses slipped a little along his narrow nose.

  “How are you? I haven’t seen you for a while,” the young man began.

  “I’m not exactly in the right mood. And you?” he asked, placing his paperwork on a table and scratching his baldhead.

  “Well, you look good, at the moment. I thought you were engaged in other research ... who knows, maybe this time you’ll discover the elixir of eternal life. »

  “Busy, yes, but not in research. Investigations. Apparently it seems that I found something interesting in the far East,” he explained, bringing his hand from his head to the thick, dark, neglected little goatee.

  “Something in the East? As?”

  “A map. Very ancient, certainly. I’m still working on it, anyway ... until I get to where it po
ints to me, I won’t know if what I think is something concrete or just a hypothesis.”

  “What is it?” inquired Viktor.

  “Boy, did you come here to stick your nose in my studies or because you have something to ask?”

  It was the cartographer who mentioned a hypothetical discovery in the desert, but Viktor didn’t remind him of it for fear that he would react in an unpredictable way.

  “In a couple of days I’ll leave and I need a map of the continent. Detailed, possibly.”

  “You actually need a map? So you’ll probably be away for a long time and who knows where…,” inquired the man, looking at him sideways with stern eyes.

  “Are you going to be the usual you, now, the one who pokes his nose in other people’s affairs?”

  The cartographer merely shrugged and let his head fall back.

  “It’s not very detailed, but I think I have one that’s right for you.” He acquired his typical, albeit uncomfortable, posture again.

  Maluak disappeared slowly behind the same door from which he had entered and Viktor took the opportunity to take a short walk through the immense expanses of knowledge and papers.

  His attention was drawn to a desk in the corner of the room with only a map on it. The desk was terribly tidy, out of place in that general mess.

  The map was very old and badly reduced, but still comprehensible even if it would have been even more so if there had been a legend. The map showed only the contours of two islands, a big one and a smaller one.

  It was Mirthya.

  “It’s hard to read a map that has only the contours of a continent ... or rather, it’s hard to find its utility,” he thought.

  He realized that along the four edges of the paper there were some writings in an unknown language. His attempt to understand the true nature of the map was shattered by resignation.

  When he heard the sound of the door open, he quickly moved to the centre of the room, concealing his inopportune and excessive curiosity.