Christill opened his eyes, but his vision was too blurry to make out much. He didn't think that it was possible to have such a terrible ache in his mind. Even the slightest movement sent a shock of pain through his head making him nauseous. When his vision slowly returned he could make out the Dargonian camp. Several fires burned low in the miserably cold wind and the Primals sat together in groups, eating what little rations they had left. He tried to move his hands but found that they were bound tightly behind his back, as were his feet. He struggled to move into a sitting position and then fell back down when he saw Novokai sitting casually on a flattened boulder a few feet away.
"I'm surprised to see you stirring so soon," said Novokai, with a hint of pleasure in his tone. "Your body took quite a beating this morning."
Christill looked around and noticed that they were still deep in the Beon Ranges. The dark, snow capped mountain side reflected the rays of sunlight down on them as the day reached its peak. He then shifted his gaze over to Novokai and saw that Queen Triel was lying at his feet, unconscious. He glared into Novokai's eyes furiously. "What have you done to her?" he demanded.
"Nothing that I haven't done to you," replied Novokai, letting out a snide laugh as he toyed with Christill.
Christill looked down at his chest which was bare and saw fresh cuts and bruises along his body. His trousers were tattered and mud caked and in several places torn from what appeared to be whip marks. He could not remember what had happened since his capture, but the scaring on his body indicated that he had been with the Dargonians for a few days. The Queen was in no better condition. Bloody scabs covered her face and her eyes and lips were dark blue from prolonged exposure to the cold.
"Tell me how is your head?" asked Novokai.
"Why should I tell you anything, you pig!" replied Christill, spitting at Novokai.
Novokai began to laugh then opened his hands in a peaceful gesture. "It is up to you whether you give me the information that I want willingly. I can take it by force if I want, Christill."
Christill's eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"
"I know much about you Christill Greyspell. Born in Feldom, stolen by the Miirvkin and then returned to your homeland, only to be captured by the Dargonians," he laughed cruelly.
"You read my mind," said Christill, realizing why his head hurt so much.
Novokai nodded slightly. "I did what I needed, but I could not find all of the information that I was seeking. I found it exceptionally hard to probe your mind...but rest assured that I can try harder." A vicious smile appeared on Novokai's face, showing that he was clearly enjoying himself. "Let me ask you something. Tell me why you think that Dievu was so willing to risk his life to save you?"
"Dievu wasn't trying to save me, fool. He was here to rescue the Queen," said Christill. His hatred of Novokai was growing with every word.
"You are wrong," argued Novokai. "Dievu knew that he had no chance of rescuing the Queen and was willing to leave after finding our location. But once he saw you in danger he was willing to risk his own life to save you. Despite the importance in getting his knowledge of the Queen's whereabouts to the Feldonians. He obviously held you in high worth."
Christill thought about it and had to admit that it was strange that Dievu would risk the Queen's life just for him. "This is a ruse," he replied. "You are trying to trick me."
"You are one of the Children Valerious, Christill."
Christill stared at Novokai with a frown.
"The ones disciples refer to as the Valiant," continued Novokai and when Christill still seemed confused he asked, "Did Dievu not tell you? Oh my, how very interesting," chuckled Novokai. He slowly shook his head in a mocking fashion. "It's strange that he would keep this from you. He obviously saw this when he first probed your mind...Why do you think he allowed you to join the Queen's company so easily?"
Christill had no idea what he was being told. "What lies are you trying to convince me of now?"
"Let me educate you," said Novokai. "The Children Valerious, the Valiant, are the children of Teefarrnur, Christill. Every few years a child is born with a gift from the gods. We call it the Be'Ruchta. It means that you are meant to be a disciple. You are meant to wield the power of the gods on this world. You are one of their champions, Christill. A true child of the guardian gods."
"Why should I believe any of this? I have never heard of such a thing," replied Christill, still fixing an angry gaze on Novokai.
"Of course you have not heard of it. What would the Miirvkin know of the magical world?" Novokai replied. "You have the essence of the gods within you, Christill. The Be'Ruchta is a part of your body that was once part of the gods themselves. You have been chosen by them to be a disciple."
"Stop lying!" screamed Christill.
"You may be one of the Valiant but you are still a fool," said Novokai with a look of disgust. "Do you ever recall anything in your life that you could not explain. Something that happened which you later struggled to understand."
Christill tried to think back. He then recalled the time that he had leapt from the stone whilst being chased by the Irian. It had seemed as though the world around him had slowed. That seemed so long ago now, yet the feeling remained etched into his mind. Then he recalled the dream he had experienced after they had been attacked by Cathan outside the Arcein Arena. The dream had been so vivid. And that voice, it had called something out to him as he followed the figure up the grassy hill. The word came back to Christill. "Valerious," he whispered, his eyes betraying his alarm.
Novokai smiled. "All of the great disciples are Children Valerious. As am I," said Novokai proudly. "We at the Academy of Gushkall spend decades searching for the Valiant amongst the children of Dargon. Most of those few that are born with the Be'Ruchta will never come to realise that they were chosen. It is a rare thing indeed that one is found. That is why Dievu risked his life to save you."
Christill's head began to spin. How could this be? He was just a simple boy that had never done anything special. He had never worshipped any of the gods in his life. "You are lying," he said defiantly, though his words were less confident. "You are just trying to fill my head with nonsense."
"Believe what you will," said Novokai calmly. "I sensed it when I probed your mind. That was why I found it so difficult to get through to your memory. Your body uses the Be'Ruchta to protect you from magic. Why do you think that Dievu was able to bring you back to Fellarrnur?" Christill's eyes suddenly widened in surprise. Novokai noticed and was pleased that he had made a mark. "Oh...did Dievu not mention that it is near impossible to bring someone back from death. Only the Valiant posses the ability to return, and even then, it is an extremely rare occurrence. The power within you must be strong indeed for you to have returned from the Third Plane."
This was too much. Christill's shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes in resignation. As much as he did not want to believe Novokai, it explained many things. He should have known that Dievu would not allow a simple youth to join the Queen's company. And to offer to take him to Duathnin, to train in the Academy of Nyrune, he must have known all along. He had been holding back so many times that they had spoken. But what did it matter now?
He looked back up at Novokai. "So then what do you intend to do with me and the Queen?"
"The Queen will be kept alive. Zephra wishes to learn her secrets. But I haven't decided what I will do with you yet," replied Novokai with a grin.
"What could the Queen possibly know that could help you?"
"The Queen is the true ruler of Feldom, Christill. With her out of the picture and Zephra ensuring the assassination of the Honour Guard, there will be no one to hold Feldom together when Dargon sweeps in."
"The Honour Guard are dead?" asked Christill. Though Dievu had only told him a little of the Maloreichar, he knew enough of their importance to the Alliance.
"I assume that they are. There shouldn't have been too many difficulties."
Christill's head dropped. He had t
hought he had finally found a home in Feldom, and now it seemed that everything was once again falling apart. He was not even sure whether he could trust Dievu anymore. What had he done to deserve a life of torment and failure?
Novokai stood up and smiled. "Well I have enjoyed our little conversation, but I have more important matters to deal with. The Queen still has some answers to give me," he said, motioning to one of the Primals nearby. The assassin walked over and picked up the unconscious Queen.
Christill tried to move to help her but was answered with a powerful strike to the back of his head that caused his vision to spin. He hit the ground hard and saw stars when he opened his eyes. He glanced behind and saw the Primal named Rhucia standing over him with a club in one hand and a long whip in the other.
"Don't kill him, but have a little fun," said Novokai as he walked off to torture the Queen.
Rhucia smiled sadistically and uncoiled his whip. He then struck out at Christill's chest. The other assassins watched happily as Rhucia lashed out again and again, opening long gashes in Christill's body. The pain was unbearable and soon Christill couldn't even manage to scream. He huddled into a ball as Rhucia continued to whip heartlessly, until the pain became too much to handle and he slipped into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE CITY OF WAR
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 65