by Nichelle Rae
We came to another Salynn city called White Veilvin. The grass was periwinkle, which sadly reminded me of the color of Ortheldo’s eyes, and gold flowers sprung up everywhere, making it even more beautiful. The leaves atop the mammoth trees, which looked like distant relatives of birch trees, were light pink. There seemed to be a white glow all around the land. Every living thing seemed to emit a soft white halo of light, as if the very souls of the life inside were reaching out to embrace the day. It made me feel safe in every way, in my mind, body, and soul.
The Sallybreath Flowers that grew from the hair of these Salynns were gold. Beldorn told me the color symbolized that they were the most powerful of all Salynns. But I really wasn’t impressed, especially after I found out what the Salynns who lived here were like. We had a rather interesting time in White Veilvin. The Salynns there were, yes, very powerful, far more so than those in Galad Kas, but they were also serious, boring, and downright rude and snotty! They never sang, or danced, or told stories like the Salynns of Galad Kas. They thought they knew everything, and everything they decided should go their way or no way.
Just because they annoyed me, I decided to make a spectacle of myself and stir up their quiet lives a bit. I started arguments, complained about the food, dueled with any Salynn who wanted to challenge me (which was a lot), usually hurting them in the process of winning the battle. I poked fun of their clothes, the way they walked, and their grim expressions that made them look as if their faces were etched from stone. I’m surprised they didn’t applaud when I left. Then again, perhaps they did.
One Salynn who really annoyed me was Masinyel, the leader of White Veilvin. The land’s king had disappeared fifteen years ago, without a trace. Fifteen years meant nothing to these people. He may as well have disappeared yesterday, so no one was very concerned. Masinyel was the one everyone answered to in the king’s absence. She knew about my magic, which alone annoyed me, but everything about her bothered me. She didn’t do me any harm; we just didn’t see eye to eye on anything.
We had more than enough heated discussions about my magic and how she thought I should use it. I wanted to keep it secret per my father’s dying request; she thought that I should prance around in my White Warrior form as if I was proud to be what I was, no matter who saw me or what they might think. Well, that wasn’t going to happen, and she wasn’t too keen on my defiance. Nor did she like me winning all our “discussions” by being indigent toward her. I wasn’t really mean; I just made it very clear, in my own way, that I wasn’t going to do what she wanted.
I certainly didn’t shed any tears when we left that place. Rest assured they didn’t shed any either watching us leave. Beldorn lightly scolded me as we rode away, saying that it would probably take three new generations of Salynns to forget about my visit. I smiled triumphantly and took it as a compliment. As our travels continued in the east, I was grateful Dwellingpath was too far to visit. It pained me to think of Ortheldo. I missed him more each day. I wished so badly he was at my side again.
On our way back toward the west, we took a southern route, along the broad edge of an ancient and presently abandoned Humount mountain range called the Black Mountains, now in dreadful ruins. Just passing by the place gave me an incredible uneasy feeling. It lasted the entire week we rode past the mountains. A very deep shadow of dread grew in my mind and sunk into the pit of my stomach. It was enough to make me dread that place for the rest of my days.
“Beldorn, are we going in there?” I asked, looking south into the dead mountain range, secretly hoping the answer would be no.
“No, Azrel,” he replied gravely.
I turned my head to look over my shoulder into his eyes, studying them. “You know something about it, don’t you?”
Beldorn smiled. “You read eyes well,” he said. He looked out ahead of him. “Yes, I do know a bit about it, and you are right to have a dark feeling about this place. Though you could thwart the outcome I foresee, you must keep your secret at all costs for now. There will come a time when you will know when to use them—when to reveal yourself, and to whom.”
I paused. “What do you mean, ‘thwart the outcome?’” I asked.
He squirmed a bit in his saddle. “I think it best not to etch the future with words if it isn’t etched in stone. I cannot see all ends, and what I see now could change. Either way, you will know what to do when the time comes. But let’s not speak of such dark things. This is to be a learning experience for you.”
“Yes,” I replied, “and that being so, shouldn’t I learn what you foresee is going to happen?” Beldorn chuckled “I know the future isn’t etched in stone,” I continued, “and your words won’t change that fact. I would just feel better if I knew why I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach from simply riding by this place.”
“You will make a fine White Warrior,” he said affectionately. “Very well then…”
He told me of the evil that he foresaw happening. I wished very much I hadn’t asked.
We rode past the Humount ruins and continued northwest, stopping hither and yonder on our trek, even passing Galad Kas again. We made it to the Mongerst Mountains, and Beldorn took me past the largest mountain in Casdanarus, called Rocksheloc. It stood alone just before the Mongerst mountain range began, and massive would be an understatement! Rocksheloc was a Humount realm, and because of my affinity for mountains, I desperately wanted to stop and see what it looked like inside. Alas, Beldorn said we didn’t have time.
We passed through a terrible town called Narcatertus, which was the largest human village in Casdanarus. I hated the place the second I looked at it from a distance. It was a cesspool of humanity, and the number of people was suffocating! It wasn’t evil, just disgusting in every sense of the word. Luckily, we didn’t stay overnight at a fleabag inn; rather, we camped at the mouth of Crox Pass, which was the most popular route for merchants and vendors in the Mongerst Mountains.
When we awoke the next morning, Beldorn told me it was time I went home. I stayed awake almost every night for the rest of our journey through Crox Path.
Home. That word sounded so foreign to me. What was a home? Just a place to live? A place where you were surrounded by loved ones? I began to wonder how the people at “home” were going to take to me. Would they accept me? How were these simple but (so I was told) kind people going to react to one with an upbringing so different from theirs? How was I going to react to beings so different from me? So many questions lingered on my mind. But there was no way to answer them yet. I just decided that I would adjust to whatever treatment I got from them, positive or negative. I had to.
Beldorn and I rode for more than two weeks before we came to the woodlands that surrounded The Pitt and rested for the night near a stream. As dusk fell, I looked toward the forest that would take me to my mother, a road I was reluctant to take for some reason. It was probably because I was only used to two ways of living: solitude and travel. Staying in one place for a long length of time, with crowds of beings constantly around, was frightening. But I wasn’t going to admit I felt fear. My father told me to be brave, and I would do my best.
My father. It had been a while since I just sat and thought about him. It made me sad, but as I looked at the road that would take me to my mother, I couldn’t deny the small stir of joy when I recalled how my father looked when he first told me about her. It was the first and only time I’d really seen an expression of peace on his face, and in his voice, and his body language.
He said that after fleeing the battle he traveled Casdanarus for a long time, avoiding any man or Salynn that crossed his path because he was afraid of being recognized. For 3,000 years he did this. But his chosen isolation caused nearly complete madness, and he was ready to take drastic action if he didn’t encounter another being soon. Yet he feared men’s resentment of him, which was still strong 3,000 years later.
The most horrifying thing he said was that he thought about slitting his wrists to end his misery. But he admitted
that was too cowardly by then to go through with it. I had wanted to slap him for calling himself a coward, but I respected him too much. So I just bit my tongue, literally, and let him continue speaking.
He said when he reached that point he knew he had to return to civilization once again. The small bit of sanity that remained with him reasoned that if he did this, he needed to live among a very small and secluded race. This brought him into the woods. Searches and many empty woodlands disappointed him, and he decided he might have the courage to slit his own wrists after all.
Finally, he arrived at the very last woodlands he knew about—and he knew all of them due to the vast amount of time he’d lived and traveled in Casdanarus. He trudged on for endless days, and after about 700 miles finally gave up hope. Weak, tired, and maddened, he dropped to his knees and took out the Sword. It was time to end his existence. He reasoned that at least his child would be safe by not existing. Resting the edge of the blade against his skin, hope swelled inside him as he managed to draw some blood. He thought the Light Gods would have stopped him if he attempted suicide. The only regret he had was not trying sooner. He added pressure to the blade and anticipated the peace and oblivion of death, when suddenly he noticed an opening in the trees ahead of him.
Stunned, he paused in his cutting. He stared for a long moment at the opening fifteen feet in front of him. It hadn’t been there a minute ago. He removed the blade from his wrist and hastily stumbled forward.
When he emerged, he found himself atop a high cliff that plunged deeply below into a strange new land. He said he actually flinched. He’d done nothing but travel for the past 3,000 years and he thought he had seen every blade of grass in Casdanarus three times over. But he’d never seen this land before.
This small land housed perhaps 300 people at most. It was small and secluded. He couldn’t believe it. He marched down the grassy cliffs toward the nearest house and quickly encountered the inhabitants, who seemed only slightly surprised by his arrival. Everyone received him very well considering he was a complete outsider. This land he found was called The Pitt.
The name of the village fit the location: the bottom of a lush green bowl of land. But my father said the name seemed seemedharsh for somewhere so lovely. The people liked it that way though. They enjoyed their solitude, and evil rumors about The Pitt kept others away.
He felt strangely safe among these people. For starters, they didn’t know who he was or, more importantly, who he had been. That alone made it an easy the decision to stay. He called himself Gworrent, and on the day he arrived, the people gave him a house whose previous owner has recently died.
A celebration was in order after he’d been living there for a few days. It was a party The Pitt held every year to celebrate the coming of the Spring season. That night he met my mother, Priweth.
“One look into her piercingly bright-blue eyes and suddenly I could not have enough of her. It was something I’d never felt before,” my father told me.
They started spending a lot of time together, and unfortunately, he had to lie about his past so he wouldn’t reveal his former identity. He wanted to keep his vastly scorned reputation a secret from her because he was afraid he would lose her if she knew. As time wore on, his real past became a distant memory. All he cared about was his future with my mother.
One night, my mother called to him and told him some news—news that should have been joyful but chilled my father to the bone.
“We’re going to have a child,” she said.
My father told me he cried when he heard those words, but that was something I could not imagine at the time he told me this story. I’d never seen him cry until the day he died. Now I could see it so clearly. I could see him looking into my mother’s face and shedding tears, fearful, so fearful for me, his child.
My mother tenderly wiped his tears away and asked what was wrong. My father took her hands in his, looked her in the eyes as he said in a choking sob, “Priweth, I’ve lied to you.”
That night he revealed everything to her. He told her who he really was, what had happened to him, and what the female voice from the light had told him about having a child to finish his mission. “Priweth,” he said, “I have to take our baby far away as soon as he is born. Evil will be hunting for him, and I need to train him properly as a warrior and teach him all that I know so he might be able to face it.”
My mother broke down into tears at the thought of losing me and her beloved in one foul blow. I wanted to slap my father again when he said that seeing her cry as deeply as she did made him wish he had slit his wrists in the forest. My mother, however, was gracious and understanding and knew it was for the best. The simple secluded life of The Pitt would not prepare a warrior to face the Evil that she now knew awaited her child.
“So it will be,” she sobbed.
They held each other close that night as they made their plans. They decided that the day I was born my father would take me away in the middle of the night. In the morning, my mother would claim that they had gotten into an argument and he stole the baby while she slept to make her regret defying him. They both cried in each other’s arms at this plan because it meant that my father would never again be welcome in The Pitt. As painful as it was, it was decided, because it was the only way to get me out of there without divulging the real reason: that my father was taking me into the woods to train me to face the greatest Evil this world had ever seen.
At last, during a cold sunrise in December, I was born. My mother named me Azrel, which meant “victory” in the ancient Salynnian language. My father fell face down on the floor and cried because I was a girl, and he knew his daughter would have to take up the Sword and face what he could not. He said he regretted every decision he’d ever made in his life, since they all seemed to bring his beloved daughter to this horrible fate. Women were not created to fight anything, never mind the vile force of Evil that a powerful man couldn’t even handle. He knew, though, that if he didn’t at least try to prepare me as best he could, I would be doomed to meet my end before long.
Late that night he prepared a horse with all the supplies they had purchased to care for me. My father came back to the house and found my mother holding me for the first time—and the last. She was sobbing heavily. “Why can’t I go with you?” she begged him as tears flowed down her cheeks.
My father kneeled before her and ran his fingers through her hair. “Priweth, I don’t want to expose you to this Evil,” he said. “It burns my heart that my daughter has to face this, all on my account.” He fought tears again. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, or Azrel, but at least you can be safe here.”
My mother nodded and painfully handed me to my father. He took me into his arms and then gazed at her face. “In an instant,” he told me years later, “I memorized every curve and every freckle of her face. Then I said the most painful words in my 10,000 years of existence: ‘Goodbye, my beloved Priweth.’ I lovingly kissed her for a long moment then looked into her eyes. ‘My heart will forever belong to you.’”
She looked into his eyes as well. “My heart will forever belong to you, too,” she replied. Then she looked down at me, kissed my sleeping face and whispered softly. ‘Goodbye, Azrel, my beautiful baby. I love you more than you know.”
My father turned and silently left the house, holding me. My mother, teary-eyed and heartbroken, watched from the doorway as he mounted his horse. With a last look back, he gave her a sad smile then sped off into the night with a heavy heart—and a maddening longing to stay.
My mother sounded like a sweet lady, but she was still a stranger to me, and I was still a stranger to her. It would take an entire day and night to travel 700 miles through the woods before we reached The Pitt. By this time tomorrow night, I will have met my mother and brother.
My brother. I smiled again at the image of a young boy dancing around, singing my name. But my smile vanished as I thought about the possibility that he might not like me once we met. What if m
y mother didn’t like me? What if I only caused her pain because I reminded her of my father?
The “what if” questions kept me awake all night. As the sun slowly rose over the very distant hills, I wondered what awaited me in the land I was about to enter: acceptance or rejection? Oddly enough, my biggest concern was not rejection from my mother, but from my little brother.
Beldorn finally awoke as the sun traveled to the eight o’clock hour. He took one look at me and said, “Something troubles you.” I didn’t take my eyes from the woods as I nodded a reply. “I know what it is I think,” he said, standing up from his bed. “We can talk about it when we get going, if you wish. Right now, we’re going to have to reevaluate how you look.”
Confused, I looked up at him and then down at myself. I was rather grubby. The toils of travel showed up very clearly in my appearance.
“I’ll bathe in the stream,” I said and stood.
Beldorn stopped me and presented me with three small vials. “From Isadith,” he said with a bright smile. “This one you put in your hair first, this one second, and this one you use to wash your skin.” He handed me the vials along with a soft, lavender-colored Salynnian cloth and an extra set of clothes. “She wanted you to look your best when you met your family.”
I smiled and shook my head. “What am I going to do about you, Isadith?” I smiled up at Beldorn. “Thank you.” He patted my back gently in response as I headed down the stream to find a shallow place to bathe. I was grateful for Isadith’s gifts. Maybe if my appearance wasn’t so upsetting, I would be accepted more easily.
I found a spot not far from camp. After wetting myself down, I popped the cork of the first vial and the smell invaded my senses. It smelled lovelier than anything I had ever smelled before, and I felt a rush of exhilaration that warmed my heart and soul. Oh, I wanted to stay in that stream and smell those liquids until the sun went down.